Let Me Be the One
Page 61
She paused and pressed her hand flat to his chest, right over his breastbone. “Every other word that voice says is your name, Ryan. The truth—my truth—is that Italy isn’t a step up if it’s also a step away from you and the future we’re building together.”
“But will you be happy taking the San Francisco fellowship when you could have had Italy?”
“Actually, ” she informed him with a lift of one eyebrow, “I can pretty much guarantee that I won’t be getting that fellowship.”
“Screw James and Anthony. Your project is brilliant. The other board members will make sure you get it.”
She made a face. “James came to my studio today. He had another charming offer for me.”
“That’s it!” Ryan exploded. “I’m going to k—”
“You don’t need to do anything to him. I already did.”
She told him everything, every word, every nuance of her showdown with James. And then she told him about the phone calls she’d made to the other members of the fellowship board to tell them about what James had done, and likely to more women than her.
“Today when I was putting the finishing touches on my project, I remembered something I knew a long, long time ago, but forgot somewhere along the way. From the first moment I picked up that ball of clay in Mr. Barnsworth’s art class, I loved the way it took shape beneath my fingers. As long as I have that, I’ll always be happy, whether I’m making sculptures of poodles out in the garage or trying to sculpt water in some fancy art studio with my name out front in big, bold letters.” Her smile was radiant. “Everything I ever wanted, everything I was ever looking for, was there the whole time. It was inside of me.” He could feel his heart beating through to her palm as she said, “And you.”
* * *
“I know you wanted to go slow,” Ryan began, but even as he was saying the words, he’d reached around the back of her neck to undo her necklace and was already getting down on one knee.
Not both.
One.
Vicki opened her mouth, but no sound came out, even though his name was right there on her lips.
“I know it’s only been a week since you came back to California. I know we’ve only had two official dates. Well, one, actually, since I mostly just ripped your clothes off and took you in your studio the other night, so it might not count as an actual date. And I also know we’re in the middle of a dirty stairwell in a St. Louis hotel right now.”
Finally, laughter bubbled from Vicki’s lips.
Because even when Ryan was down on one knee, he was still her friend.
Her best friend.
And he still made her laugh...all while making her burn hotter than she’d known her inner thermostat could go.
“I’ve already lost fifteen years without you. I’m not going to waste another second. You’re everything I’ve been looking for. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” Ryan looked at their linked hands, her sculpture come to life. “That night we held hands in the water outside my house, I felt the same thing you did, Vicki. That nothing, not even water strong enough to carve cliffs, is as strong as our connection. Nothing is ever going to break us apart. Not jobs or miles or creepy bastards. Make me the happiest man alive. Say you’ll marry me and wear this ring.” His mouth curved up into another beautiful grin that took what was left of her breath away. “Let me be the one for real this time.”
One more time, her whole world came down to her hands, to the deliberate way she held out her left ring finger for Ryan, to the cool slide of platinum across the heated surface of skin, and then to the scruff of his jaw against her palms as she held his face and kissed him.
“You’ve always been the one, Ryan. You always will be.”
A heartbeat later, he’d scooped her up into his arms and was practically jogging up the steps.
She was laughing even as she asked, “What floor is your room on?”
“The tenth.”
She only laughed harder at the thought of his trying to run ten floors with her in his arms, but she knew better than to try to stop him when he was hands-down the most determined man she’d ever known.
Of course, she wasn’t surprised when he made carrying her up ten flights of stairs look so easy. He was barely even winded as he pushed open the door to his room.
What did surprise her, however, was when he put her down on the bed, told her to stay put in that deliciously dominant voice of his, and went back into the front room to make a phone call. Wondering what he was up to, her heart pounding in anticipation, a few minutes later she heard a knock on the door and Ryan saying thank you to someone in his low voice.
His gaze was full of wicked intent when he came into the bedroom, his hands held behind his back. “Remember what I wanted to do to you our first night together?”
Even though it had barely been a week since they’d first made love, that night had been such a blur of pleasure and sensation that all she could think to answer was, “Everything?”
She loved the purely carnal sound of his laughter.
“You always have been able to read my mind,” he teased her. “Now take your clothes off and I’ll show you.”
He sat back on the couch against the opposite wall, still hiding whatever was in his hands from her.
Even after making love several times that week, she was amazed to realize there were still so many firsts for them, like stripping down for Ryan. She’d done it over the phone the night before, but never in person. He’d always ripped the clothes off her before she could do a thing to help.
Inherently shy, it was tempting just to quickly shove off the tank top and leggings she’d worn from the studio to the plane and beg him to join her on the bed. But that wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
Slowly, she got up off the bed and walked across the room to stand in front of him. With every step, Ryan’s gaze heated up more and more. Her nerves gave way to a rush of joy.
He was hers.
And she was his.
Keeping her gaze locked with his, she reached for the hem of her tank top and slid it up over her waist, then her br**sts, one slow inch at a time. By the time she pulled her shirt up over her head, and uncovered black lace, air was whooshing out of Ryan’s lungs.
“Gorgeous, Vicki. You’re so damn gorgeous.”
She was smiling by the time she threw her shirt to the side. “Wait,” she teased, “there’s more.”
Her thumbs went into the waistband of her leggings a moment later so that she could slide them down over her hips to reveal the matching lace thong. Just as her leggings fell to the floor and she stepped out of them, he wrapped two big hands around her bared bottom cheeks and pulled her into him so that he could press kisses against her stomach, her hip bones, and then the sheer fabric covering her sex.
“But will you be happy taking the San Francisco fellowship when you could have had Italy?”
“Actually, ” she informed him with a lift of one eyebrow, “I can pretty much guarantee that I won’t be getting that fellowship.”
“Screw James and Anthony. Your project is brilliant. The other board members will make sure you get it.”
She made a face. “James came to my studio today. He had another charming offer for me.”
“That’s it!” Ryan exploded. “I’m going to k—”
“You don’t need to do anything to him. I already did.”
She told him everything, every word, every nuance of her showdown with James. And then she told him about the phone calls she’d made to the other members of the fellowship board to tell them about what James had done, and likely to more women than her.
“Today when I was putting the finishing touches on my project, I remembered something I knew a long, long time ago, but forgot somewhere along the way. From the first moment I picked up that ball of clay in Mr. Barnsworth’s art class, I loved the way it took shape beneath my fingers. As long as I have that, I’ll always be happy, whether I’m making sculptures of poodles out in the garage or trying to sculpt water in some fancy art studio with my name out front in big, bold letters.” Her smile was radiant. “Everything I ever wanted, everything I was ever looking for, was there the whole time. It was inside of me.” He could feel his heart beating through to her palm as she said, “And you.”
* * *
“I know you wanted to go slow,” Ryan began, but even as he was saying the words, he’d reached around the back of her neck to undo her necklace and was already getting down on one knee.
Not both.
One.
Vicki opened her mouth, but no sound came out, even though his name was right there on her lips.
“I know it’s only been a week since you came back to California. I know we’ve only had two official dates. Well, one, actually, since I mostly just ripped your clothes off and took you in your studio the other night, so it might not count as an actual date. And I also know we’re in the middle of a dirty stairwell in a St. Louis hotel right now.”
Finally, laughter bubbled from Vicki’s lips.
Because even when Ryan was down on one knee, he was still her friend.
Her best friend.
And he still made her laugh...all while making her burn hotter than she’d known her inner thermostat could go.
“I’ve already lost fifteen years without you. I’m not going to waste another second. You’re everything I’ve been looking for. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” Ryan looked at their linked hands, her sculpture come to life. “That night we held hands in the water outside my house, I felt the same thing you did, Vicki. That nothing, not even water strong enough to carve cliffs, is as strong as our connection. Nothing is ever going to break us apart. Not jobs or miles or creepy bastards. Make me the happiest man alive. Say you’ll marry me and wear this ring.” His mouth curved up into another beautiful grin that took what was left of her breath away. “Let me be the one for real this time.”
One more time, her whole world came down to her hands, to the deliberate way she held out her left ring finger for Ryan, to the cool slide of platinum across the heated surface of skin, and then to the scruff of his jaw against her palms as she held his face and kissed him.
“You’ve always been the one, Ryan. You always will be.”
A heartbeat later, he’d scooped her up into his arms and was practically jogging up the steps.
She was laughing even as she asked, “What floor is your room on?”
“The tenth.”
She only laughed harder at the thought of his trying to run ten floors with her in his arms, but she knew better than to try to stop him when he was hands-down the most determined man she’d ever known.
Of course, she wasn’t surprised when he made carrying her up ten flights of stairs look so easy. He was barely even winded as he pushed open the door to his room.
What did surprise her, however, was when he put her down on the bed, told her to stay put in that deliciously dominant voice of his, and went back into the front room to make a phone call. Wondering what he was up to, her heart pounding in anticipation, a few minutes later she heard a knock on the door and Ryan saying thank you to someone in his low voice.
His gaze was full of wicked intent when he came into the bedroom, his hands held behind his back. “Remember what I wanted to do to you our first night together?”
Even though it had barely been a week since they’d first made love, that night had been such a blur of pleasure and sensation that all she could think to answer was, “Everything?”
She loved the purely carnal sound of his laughter.
“You always have been able to read my mind,” he teased her. “Now take your clothes off and I’ll show you.”
He sat back on the couch against the opposite wall, still hiding whatever was in his hands from her.
Even after making love several times that week, she was amazed to realize there were still so many firsts for them, like stripping down for Ryan. She’d done it over the phone the night before, but never in person. He’d always ripped the clothes off her before she could do a thing to help.
Inherently shy, it was tempting just to quickly shove off the tank top and leggings she’d worn from the studio to the plane and beg him to join her on the bed. But that wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
Slowly, she got up off the bed and walked across the room to stand in front of him. With every step, Ryan’s gaze heated up more and more. Her nerves gave way to a rush of joy.
He was hers.
And she was his.
Keeping her gaze locked with his, she reached for the hem of her tank top and slid it up over her waist, then her br**sts, one slow inch at a time. By the time she pulled her shirt up over her head, and uncovered black lace, air was whooshing out of Ryan’s lungs.
“Gorgeous, Vicki. You’re so damn gorgeous.”
She was smiling by the time she threw her shirt to the side. “Wait,” she teased, “there’s more.”
Her thumbs went into the waistband of her leggings a moment later so that she could slide them down over her hips to reveal the matching lace thong. Just as her leggings fell to the floor and she stepped out of them, he wrapped two big hands around her bared bottom cheeks and pulled her into him so that he could press kisses against her stomach, her hip bones, and then the sheer fabric covering her sex.
