completely relaxed.
Ryder longed for that same feeling, but ever since finding her in his house, his body had betrayed him, going on full alert. He’d spent the last seven days walking around at half-mast, thanks to Darcy flooding his brain.
Sitting next to her now had his cock rock hard and aching.
They sat in silence for a couple minutes, but it didn’t feel awkward.
Finally, Darcy turned to him. “Looks like we’ve hit that point in our relationship where we’ve run out of things to talk about.”
Ryder nodded. “It was inevitable.”
Darcy’s eyes were pure mischief when she said, “But at least we’ll always have those three magical hours in the elevator. We had a good run, you and me.”
“That we did.” Ryder enjoyed their banter. There weren’t too many people in his life he joked around with. As the boss, employees tended to be on their most professional behavior around him. And unfortunately, the rest of the people in upper management were stuffy assholes.
Ryder considered that…and realized he probably fell into that category as well.
So, with the exception of Darcy and the boys, there wasn’t a lot of playfulness in Ryder’s life.
“You were absent from the office a lot this week,” Darcy mused.
He was secretly—foolishly—pleased she’d missed him. “I was working at the stadium.”
“Yeah. That’s what Helen said. I was sort of hoping you were playing hooky for a few days.”
“I don’t play hooky.”
“You know,” she began, “there’s a saying about all work and no play.”
“I believe I’ve heard that expression before.”
She sat with one leg tucked under the other, her tight jeans fitting her like a second skin. He imagined himself reaching over to peel them off her so he could run his hands over her firm calf muscles and push her thighs—
Mercifully, Darcy interrupted that fantasy before it went way too far. “Don’t you ever get sick of wearing ties?”
Ryder had intended to change into more comfortable clothing, but he’d been distracted by her and the baby. He loosened his tie, swallowing deeply when Darcy shifted closer, untying the knot completely and pulling it off him. Once again, her actions felt vaguely familiar. Especially when he took the tie from her, slowly wrapping it around his palm, recalling her desire to be tied up in bed.
Darcy watched his actions, and he could tell her thoughts were traveling along the same path. Especially when her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip.
He’d told her they wouldn’t kiss again, and he’d meant it. At the time.
Now, a week had passed and proven his willpower wasn’t as strong as he’d thought.
He took a deep breath, then tossed the tie onto the coffee table.
Darcy leaned forward and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, as if it was completely normal for her to do so, and again, he had this sense that they’d been here, done this before.
The words “don’t stop” flashed through his mind and sparked a memory.
“You’ve done that before,” he whispered.
“I didn’t think you remembered that night. You were very drunk.”
That night.
Suddenly, things clicked into place. Ryder didn’t recall much at all, nothing more than images and the impression of not being alone for the first time in a long time. The first year or so after Denise died had been one long, dark period of time where the only thing he’d felt was unbearable loneliness. Darcy had taken care of him that night.
“Darcy…” he started. But she didn’t give him a chance to finish. Which was good because he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say anyway.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, lowering her hands after unbuttoning just that one button on his shirt.
He groaned. “Why do I get the sense this isn’t going to bode well for me?”
“Clint’s eleven now.”
“I know. I was there when he was born.”
Darcy ignored his joke. “You’re getting perilously close to that time when he’ll suddenly be too cool to want to do stuff with his dad.”
Ryder nodded slowly. He’d begun to witness that with Vince and Leo. Vince hit puberty and became a moody bastard. The boy’s eye-rolling and persecuted sighs drove Leo insane.
Clint, however, still approached most days with a childlike wonder and excitement. Just last weekend, Ryder had suggested they throw the football around in the backyard because he wanted to unplug the kid from the video games for a few minutes. He’d also figured the activity would help divert his own thoughts from Darcy.
Clint had perked up instantly, shut down mid-game—something unheard of—and they’d spent nearly two hours outside, playing,