The Mix-Up (Southern Hearts Club #3) - Melanie Munton Page 0,39

a bone. After all, he did give me an orgasm. And in return, I’m pretty sure I’m giving him another case of blue balls.

Me: No

His shoulders sag, though he doesn’t appear entirely satisfied.

Ryder: If he touches you again, he’ll get another black eye. Just so you know.

His behavior has been so erratic and confusing. I can’t figure out where this sudden possessiveness is coming from. Has it always been there and Myles’s kiss just brought out Ryder’s inner beast? He said it had nothing to do with sibling rivalry, and strangely, I believe him.

Me: And what if another man touches me? How did you think this was going to work? You going to beat up every guy who flirts with me?

His nostrils flare in anger.

Ryder: If I have to. But you’ll eventually come to your senses and realize that my hands are the only ones you want on you.

It’s my turn to raise my eyebrows.

Me: That’s mighty presumptuous of you.

Ryder: No, that’s perceptive of me. I KNOW you, duchess.

My heartbeat stutters at his self-assuredness. I admit I’ve let down my guard with him more than with most people in my life, but that’s because we’ve been forced to spend so much time together. I don’t let many people really know me. My inner circle is practically microscopic. I haven’t let Ryder become one of those people.

Have I?

Because if that’s true, then he knows my fears, my weaknesses, my insecurities. He knows what I’m working toward and what I’m fighting against.

Impossible.

We’ve never opened up to each other like that. We haven’t revealed intimate details of our pasts, our childhoods, our dreams. He doesn’t know anything.

I’m in the process of typing out that exact message when West’s voice comes through our headphones. “We’re about to begin our descent.”

How appropriate.

It feels like all I’m doing in Ryder’s presence these days is falling.



Our client is an attractive redhead in her early forties who started a bakery delivery service that now has branches all over the Southeast. She hired The Colson Group to run an ad campaign when she opened a branch in Charleston, which she’s since initiated at all of her other locations. Honestly, I think she keeps extending her contracts with us because she wants to diddle my boss.

I hate her.

Thank God she’s married.

Although older than Ryder by ten years, she looks closer to his age. She’s pretty and fit and sophisticated, not to mention wealthy. He’s a beautiful, red-blooded man who would snag female attention if he lived in a dumpster. I can’t help but wonder if he would go for her if she was single and not a client. I’ve never seen Ryder with a girlfriend, so I don’t know what his usual type is.

Me?

Try not to sound too hopeful, dearie.

“Mrs. Mercer,” Ryder greets her with a charming smile. “It’s good to see you again.”

She leans in for a cheek kiss that clearly takes him off guard. She’s never offered him anything more than a flirtatious handshake that lasts a few seconds too long.

“Lovely to see you, too, Mr. Colson. But I’m afraid it won’t be ‘Mrs.’ for much longer.” She heaves a half-hearted sigh. “Mr. Mercer and I are divorcing.”

Real subtle, lady.

She sounds super broken up about the split.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Only someone who’s been around him as much as I have could tell how uncomfortable he is. Clearing his throat, he gestures to me. “You remember Ms. Castellanos.”

Her smile is much icier when it’s aimed at me.

Right back atcha, bitch.

“Of course.” She gives me a stiff nod. “Pleasure. Well, should we get down to business, then?”

An hour later, I’m close to snapping my pen in half and letting the black ink explode all over the soon-to-be-ex Mrs. Mercer’s silk blouse. Like an octopus when it feels threatened. She hasn’t stopped smiling at Ryder, can hardly keep her hands off Ryder, and keeps shoving her medically-altered cleavage at Ryder.

Maybe I’ll just stab her with the pen instead.

For his part, Ryder’s maintained professionalism, despite her advances, though his voice hasn’t exactly been cold and aloof. Granted, Ryder’s voice is naturally sultry and provocative. It’s as if he has no control over the way every sentence comes out as a seductive purr that’s being whispered in your ear.

Mrs. Mercer here is taking it as an invitation.

So many times I’ve wanted to lay my hand proprietarily on his arm. To let this cougar-on-the-prowl know that this one is taken and warn her to back the hell off unless she wants me