She's the One: COunting on Love, Book 1 (24 page)

“Why not?” she wanted to know.

“Because we already…did that.”

Gabby’s eyes got wide. “Oh. Well, then it means that she doesn’t want to sleep with you
again
.”

He scowled at her. “No way. That is
not
what it means.”

“Dude, if she wanted to keep sleeping with you, she’d be saying things like ‘I made a trip to Tease and need you to help me try some new things out’,” Gabby told him, referring to the sex toy and lingerie shop downtown.

He sighed. “Seriously. I don’t think that wanting to be friends is about not sleeping together.”

“So what do
you
think it’s about?”

He knew exactly what it was about. And he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. “She thinks she’s taking care of me.”

Gabby looked intrigued by that. “You’re the happiest, most satisfied guy I know. You have this Zen thing going on.”

He nodded. He really did feel Zen most of the time. At least until Amanda Dixon had come along.

“So you don’t want to be just friends, but that’s what she wants?” Gabby said. “Sounds like it’s time to make a break.”

Yeah, it did. And usually he wouldn’t need someone else telling him that. But this was Amanda.

“Would it sound stupid if I said that I think being just friends would help
her
? She has this thing about taking care of the people who matter to her. It’s who she is. She thinks I need this, so it would be like I’m doing something for her.”

Gabby smiled slowly. “And you like the idea of her taking care of you because you want to be someone who matters to her.”

“I…” He sighed again. “Really like her.”

“Are you fricking
kidding
me?” Dooley Miller’s voice came from the break room doorway.

Ryan groaned, then turned to find Dooley Miller, Mac Gordon and Sam Bradford coming into the room. They had the late shift. And if Ryan hadn’t been so distracted, he would have thought of that and would have gotten out long before they showed up. He hadn’t seen any of them since the day they’d tracked him down at practice and discovered his secret about Amanda.

Dooley was pulling out his wallet and Mac was grinning. Dooley started to hand a twenty to Mac. “We are talking about Amanda Dixon, right?” Dooley asked.

Ryan shot up off the couch. “Keep it down.” He looked toward the door to the locker room. “Conner’s still around.”

“Yep, guess we are,” Dooley said, handing the money to Mac.

Ryan frowned at them, then Sam. “What’s that for?”

Sam shrugged. “Mac told Dooley you’d be head over heels the next time they saw you. Dooley thought you were a bigger player than that.”

Ryan stomped over to toss his soda can in the trash. “I said I
like
her.”

Sam took an apple from the bowl on the counter and took a big bite as he nodded. “That’s how I went down,” he said after he’d chewed. “Wanted her first, then liked her. That’s the point of no return.”

“Me too,” Dooley added. “If you just want to sleep with her, that’s one thing. Or if you
just
like her. But once you combine them, you’re in trouble.”

Ryan glanced at Gabby, who was taking it all in. “Well, we’re going to be friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Mac said. “Been there, tried that.”

“Seriously. That’s what
she
wants.”

“You haven’t slept with her yet?” Dooley asked. “Come on, man.”

Ryan coughed and averted his eyes.

Mac laughed. “Guess you already took care of that part.”

“Oh, boy,” Dooley said. “You mean she wants to be just friends
after
the sex? Ouch. Sorry, man.”

“Shut up,” Ryan said. “It’s not about the sex.”

“Yeah, this means even more than the sex,” Gabby said.

Dooley shook his head. “That’s stupid.”

Gabby threw a pencil at him.

“What do
you
want?” Sam asked Ryan. “The sex, the friendship or both?”

“For her to have what she wants,” Ryan admitted.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, you’re in trouble.”

“We’re going to be
friends
. She wants to show me that I deserve to be more than a lay,” Ryan said. “I think that’s…nice.”

“That is nice,” Mac agreed. “She’s worried about your self-worth and shit. Kind of something a mom or an older sister worries about, you know?”

Ryan flipped him off. “It’s how Amanda’s wired. It means that I matter to her.”

“And you want her to feel good about making you feel good,” Dooley said. “Got it.” He pocketed his wallet. “No more betting against Mac. He’s got you pegged.”

Mac looked pleased as he tucked the twenty in his front pocket and reached for the bag of chips on top of the fridge.

Ryan knew he should keep his mouth shut. Instead he said, “So, Mac and Sam, you probably could give some good advice about a guy dating a friend’s sister, huh?”

“Thought you were just gonna be friends?” Dooley asked.

“Well—” Yeah, they were. He did mean it when he said it was important to Amanda and so important to him.

“Hypothetically?” Sam suggested.

“Sure. Hypothetically,” Ryan agreed.

Gabby snorted from where she was still parked in the armchair, blatantly eavesdropping.

“Well, hypothetically I’d say proceed with caution,” Sam said. “It’s a big deal to a guy like Conner—I mean a big brother.”

Mac shoved him.

Dammit. Ryan knew that, but, yeah, okay, so he’d been hoping to hear Sam say they were all overemphasizing how much Conner would care.

“But,” Sam went on, shoving Mac back, “never underestimate the power of making her happy.”

Mac gave his friend a grin at that and Sam rolled his eyes.

Ryan took a deep breath. Okay, so he and Conner had that in common—making Amanda happy was a big deal to them both.

He turned to Mac. “Anything else?”

Mac lifted a big shoulder. “Don’t let her brother convince you that he knows everything
about his sister. Every woman has secrets and needs that her big brother doesn’t know about.”

Ryan would have typically laughed at the dirty look Sam gave Mac, but the man’s words had hit Ryan hard.

Did Conner know how much Amanda needed to be needed?

Maybe. But Conner had three other sisters to worry about too. Amanda deserved someone’s full attention.

“Thanks, guys.” His mind still spinning, Ryan started for the break room door.

As he pulled it open, Mac called out, “Kaye!”

“Yeah?”

“It’s not cool to mess with a friend’s sister. So…don’t just mess around.”

Ryan swallowed hard. That was it right there. He wasn’t messing around with Amanda.

And if she needed to just be his friend, then, by God, he’d be the best friend she’d ever had.

Chapter Eight

He’d picked the least sexy or romantic movies he could come up with.
Mission Impossible
and
The Dark Knight.
He’d ordered very unromantic food—hot wings and nachos. No one wanted to kiss and get sexy with buffalo sauce on their breath. He’d dressed in running pants and a T-shirt, like he would with any of his buddies. And he left all the lights on and sat in the recliner instead of beside her on the couch.

But even sitting several feet away from her with the lights on made him want her.

In spite of all the precautions, he still found himself shifting restlessly, not catching any of the major plot points of the movie and barely tasting the nachos—even the jalapenos.

It didn’t matter how many things Tom Cruise blew up—Amanda Dixon was in his house, she smelled amazing and she looked…cute.

He knew she’d been trying for casual and comfortable, just like he had. But it didn’t matter. Jeans or skimpy party dress, he wanted her.

In fact, at the moment, he wanted her more than he had the night at Frigid. Her being here like this, trying to be his friend, liking him, the wing sauce and hot peppers the spiciest things that would occur that night… It all made him feel…like writing her a love note. Something sappy and cheesy just to make her smile and to be sure she was thinking of him. He never did sappy and cheesy with the women he hooked up with.

Ryan rubbed a hand over his face and tried to concentrate on the movie again.

But two minutes later, he was thinking about Amanda again.

The jeans reminded him of the night she’d dropped everything and met him and Emma at the hospital. She’d been disheveled that night, but still took charge and made sure Emma had everything she needed and that everyone was doing their jobs one hundred percent—just like she did.

That wasn’t the first time he’d seen her protective instincts toward her family. He distinctly remembered the time Conner had gotten burned on a call. It had been a house fire and he’d been treating an unconscious victim too close to the house. A burning shingle had come down, and he’d reacted to protect his patient. The shingle had landed on his arm, giving him second-degree burns.

Amanda had been there almost immediately after hearing the news and demanded to know every detail, going so far as to chew Cody’s ass because he’d been one of the firemen on the scene and hadn’t dragged Conner away from any threats. She and Cody had gotten into a shouting match that had landed them in front of the then-chief the next morning. Amanda hadn’t backed down even for the chief.

What Ryan remembered even more than her standing up to the big fireman was when she’d left Cody to come yell at
Ryan
because, as Conner’s partner, he should have been watching out for him. When he mentioned that he’d been busy with his own patients, she’d jabbed him in the chest. And when he said that if this was how she reacted when he got a second-degree burn on his arm, Ryan didn’t want to see her if Conner ever
really
got hurt, she’d gotten right up in his face and said, “You’re right. You don’t want to see me then.”

“What?” she asked, looking over at him.

Ryan realized he’d been watching her instead of the movie. But it was cute how she picked the tomatoes and peppers off her chips, but was sure to choose the ones with lots of cheese.

He never thought women were cute.

He shook his head and turned back to the TV. “Sorry. I didn’t know you didn’t like tomatoes.”

He never noticed that much detail about how women ate.

Good God.

“I like cold tomatoes,” she said. “But not hot. But I like tomato sauce and tomato soup,” she added.

He kept his eyes on the action on the screen. Tomatoes were not cute. Tomato soup was not cute.

At least they never had been before.

“I’ll remember that,” he said.

Amanda shifted to tuck her feet up underneath her on the couch. He noticed that her toenails were painted a pink a few shades darker than her shirt. The color reminded him of the color of her nipples.

He shifted on his chair cushion.
That
was not a we’re-just-friends kind of thing to think about.

She lifted her glass to her lips and drank, and Ryan faked an itch on his face to block the sight of her licking her lips after she swallowed.

It didn’t matter if he saw it or not. He’d had those lips around his cock. He could conjure that image and the feel of it in a millisecond.

He shifted again and gave a real effort to concentrating on the dialogue.

Then she reached for the remote on the arm of his chair to turn the volume up. That simple motion shouldn’t have stirred the air enough that he could smell her body spray.

But it did.

He worked on not groaning.

He was going to be her friend. He was.

But having her over here like this was not a good idea. They were alone, there were lots of sturdy horizontal surfaces, there was whipped cream in the fridge, and they were sitting in the same room, not three feet from where he’d laid her back, spread her legs and made her come just a few days ago.

His erection throbbed, his gut tightened and he shifted again.

Being friends with her might just kill him.

Amanda used the remote to pause the movie. “Be right back.” She headed for the bathroom.

This was torture.

Every time Ryan stretched his long legs out or shifted in his chair or cracked his knuckles, she was aware of him, his body, how he filled up the room.

Heck, every time he breathed or blinked she felt like she refocused on him. She had no idea what was happening in the movie. She had no idea if the wings or…whatever else they were eating…were any good. She frowned and thought hard. There was something else out there on the coffee table other than the wings. What the hell was the other food he’d ordered? She lifted her head and stared into the mirror. Holy crap. She was in trouble.

She knew nothing except that sitting in the living room where Ryan had given her tea, the best massage of her life and an amazing, fast, delicious orgasm was not a good way to keep from wanting sex from him.