Unlikely (5 page)

At his urging, she brought Sasha into the house. The dog immediately ran over to the full water bowl set out for her, lapping up the liquid happily but noisily, then she plopped down unceremoniously on the dog bed Ryan had carefully placed in a corner of a dining room that was so neat it resembled a movie set.

“Would you like to see the house?” Ryan asked. The dog crossed her front paws primly, and rested her head upon them. Sasha was settled in for the long haul. It sounded like Ryan wanted to show his house off, and the dog wasn’t complaining, so Sophie obliged, albeit a little hesitantly.

“Um, sure,” she said. The kitchen was a small but ultra-modern affair with a fully stocked wine refrigerator and gleaming new stainless steel appliances. The rest of the house followed suit. Everything was new and clean and somehow not entirely lived in.

“And you were going to bring a dog into this house?” Sophie asked, incredulous. “How were you going to deal with the hair and the inevitable doggy mess she would have left you with?”

“I bought a dust buster,” Ryan said, brandishing the new-looking small silver and gray vacuum.

Sophie did nothing to hide her smirk as she looked at him under her purple bangs. The rest of the house was bachelor central. She would never understand, in a million years, why all single men had black leather couches. Ryan’s was a black leather sectional, a nod, she guessed, to the recent trend in L-shaped couches. The house was modern with distinct lines, open skylights, and integrated upgrades everywhere. The master bath even had a bidet. A
bidet
, for goodness sakes. She didn’t even want to think about that.

The last room he showed her was the master bedroom. She had no idea why the view of a king-sized sleigh bed covered in a flawless tan and navy striped duvet made her warm all over, but she needed to get out of there
—fast. She’d get what she came for and go home. Now. She was about to scurry her way out the door and into her car when she barreled into Ryan, who’d been leaning casually against the doorjamb.

He caught her in his strong arms and set her back just
a few inches.

“I think I need to get going before I rip your clothes off and take you right here,” Sophie said, trying her best to scare him off.

Ryan had the good grace to blush. But her words had the opposite effect. “I think that’s an excellent idea,” he said, his voice husky. While she was trying to figure out what was a good idea, he kissed her. Sophie’s last coherent thought was that in the future she would learn to keep her big mouth shut.

Oh, lordy have mercy on her soul. His mouth felt as good as she remembered. Better. He tasted like the honey in his breakfast tea and warm, masculine heat. Sophie wanted nothing more than to give herself over to the sensation of
his sensual lips rubbing hers, having a time honored duel with his tongue. Maybe even do the horizontal mambo. Part of her hoped that with this man, at this time, things would be different. But they wouldn’t be. They never were.

Every time a man so much as made a pass at her, touched her, kissed her like Ryan was kissing her, she reacted like an adolescent.

But Ryan’s hands had a calming effect. They slid from where they had been caressing her shoulder and moved beneath the tiny straps of her tank. Her nipples puckered in response and Sophie’s fear subsided a little, her body softening, yielding to his touch. Ryan moved from kissing her lips to gently brushing her eyelids, her nose, and her forehead with his mouth. She relaxed. They’d covered this ground before. Kissing she could handle.

The panicky feeling subsided until he spoke, and pulled the strap of her tank top aside.

“Oh God, I’ve been waiting to do this all morning, to taste every last one of those freckles, to have you beneath me,” he whispered fiercely.

Sophie was breathing rapidly now, in full panic and retreat mode. Ryan mistook her shortness of breath for passion, and started to propel them toward the bed.

“I have to go, Ryan,” Sophie said, pushing hard against his chest. Cool air brushed against her bare skin, and she looked down, noticing for the first time that her top was askew. Embarrassed to see even part of her breast exposed to his intense blue eyes, she stopped on the bedroom threshold and adjusted her tank. “Sasha and I should get home now.”

He sighed deeply, audibly. He held his hand against his chest, calming his breath, trying to ease his obvious arousal. She averted her eyes from his tented cargo shorts until his breathing slowed.

“It’s not going to happen for us, is it?” he asked, shoving his fingers through his tawny hair, leaving the wavy strands sexily mussed. Her fingers itched and her body throbbed, all clamoring to pull him to her and soothe the ache they both felt. With practiced ease, she pushed the feelings away and turned her back on him, navigating the way to the front door.

“Ryan, it’s nothing personal, really,” she threw over her shoulder. “Can you help me load the kibble into my car?”

They silently packed the dog stuff into her pint-sized trunk and were barely able to close the lid. She put Sasha in the new collar and attached the multi-colored woven leather leash.

“You’re all set, Sunflower.”

“Thanks for all your help. You’re a truly nice guy, Ryan. I hope you find what you want out there.”

“And that can’t be us? You can’t bend your no-lawyer rule just this one time?”

“I can’t,” she responded quietly as she buckled herself, then the dog in safely. He’d even thought to buy the dog a harness for car travel. She turned on the car and put it in drive. With her foot on the brake, she spoke with a sense of finality that she hoped she conveyed to Ryan.

“I don’t date lawyers, Ryan. And I don’t like sex.”
And with that, she sped off down the windy road.

What normal person disliked sex? She sure seemed to appreciate what had been heating up between them in the bedroom. When Ryan finally fought past the cloud of his own arousal, which had blinded him to a lot, he realized that she was somewhat nervous or tense
when they were necking like teenagers. He had chalked it up to the fact that everyone was apprehensive their first time with someone new.

Standing in the living area holding his very erect dick was not going to help him figure out what to do, if there was anything to do. He took himself to the shower to do something to ease the ache Sunflower had caused.

Sophie wanted to pull over somewhere on Mulholland Drive and bang her head against the layers of sedimentary rock exposed on the side of the road, but the sheer drops on either side of her car stopped her cold. She’d spent her teen years and her twenties working very hard to cultivate a certain persona. She wanted to be a very sexually confident woman who spoke her mind and could handle her man.

What was wrong with her? Two kisses and one caress from a man and she was putty in his hands, admitting her deepest, darkest secrets to him. Thank goodness he didn’t know her name. She’d never have to face him again and relive the humiliating episode in his bedroom. Any other normal woman, she knew, would have just slept with him right then and there. But not her. No siree.

A mere kiss and she froze up like an iceberg. No one used the word frigid anymore. It seemed like a word from a bad 1970s romance novel, but if the shoe fit… She shrugged wearily. The few times she’d been with a guy, it had taken a lot of Dutch courage to get her in the sack. Since she was not exactly sober during the encounters, she didn’t remember much, and what she could recall was downright cringe worthy. She was all bark and no bite.

Even if she could get over her sex problem, her anti-lawyer rule was an absolute. She’d lived under her father’s thumb for too many years to even go there with a man, no matter how much he wet her whistle. There were hundreds of professions out there, and she’d date anyone from any job
—garbage man to CEO—but not anyone who’d passed the bar. She’d had a lifetime worth of uptight, rigid, and controlling men. No matter how nice Ryan seemed on the outside, she’d be a fool to get involved with someone whose profession defined his personal life. She was sure Ryan’s pro/con list for the dog and the neater than neat house exemplified exactly what she didn’t need in a man.

Two weeks later, Ryan tucked his hand-tailored, button-down, monogrammed shirt into his tan wool pants and debated on whether he should add a sport coat to his ensemble. When he tried on the navy blazer, even he had to admit it made him look ten years older. When did he get so conservative? He felt geriatric compared to Sunflower. Part of him—well, if he were honest with himself, all of him—wished he were spending the evening with her. Thinking about how he would dress for a date with her made him decide to vote a definite “no” on the sport coat. He looked in his closet again, wishing he paid far more attention to those metrosexual magazines he saw at the checkout stands and a lot less attention to the California Lawyer monthly journal.

Scrutinizing himself in the full-length mirror, Ryan decided that beauty was in the eye of the beholder. He wanted people to judge him for who he was on the inside. He laughed. There were two clichés that did not jibe with looks
-obsessed L.A. He just hoped that his date was not as shallow as most of the women he had met in the last few years. If she was, it would be an early night.

He grabbed his car keys from the kitchen counter and ran his hand through his hair one last time, trying not to look at the empty dog crate still assembled in his dining room. It was time to forget Sunflower and Sasha. Most of his life wishes had come true
—he’d overcome his hardscrabble background, and he had graduated from a prestigious law school. It was tempting fate to think he could have a woman just because he wanted her. Unlike his other successes, dating was a two way street. That’s why he was going out with Holly Prentice tonight. She had given an unqualified “yes” when he’d asked her out, no playing around, no games. Holly worked in marketing and community development in the vast world of Equia studios where he worked as an in-house labor attorney.

Equia Children’s Entertainment, quickly approaching its centennial, was one of the most well-known animation studios in Los Angeles. Its Otto the Otter trademark was almost as recognizable as Mickey Mouse. Ryan had met Holly when he had done some work on an insurance contract she needed for a volunteer event.

He had run into her on the lot occasionally after that. It was nice seeing a friendly face among the thousands of employees he saw each day. And if they both had a few free minutes, they would grab a coffee in the commissary. Since sitting at home, racking his brain as to why Sunflower would not date him was not getting him anywhere, he hoped a date with Holly, who was smart, funny and definitely pretty would break the hold Sunflower had on his heart.

The woman who answered the door was worlds apart from the woman he knew from work. Holly was wearing a tiny bronze dress that left little to the imagination and some kind of sparkly cream that made her skin glow. All that exposed leg and curly hair was wrapped up in a woman that was just his type.

Despite all that, he just wasn’t that into her. He worked to hide his disinterest, hoping he wasn’t too transparent. He made sure he kept up his side of the conversation while they drove to the appropriately trendy restaurant, and ordered the right wine and two of the celebrity chef’s specials.

Holly sipped from her wine
glass and pushed around her uneaten dinner.

“Hey there,” she said softly, stopping him in the middle of a sentence. “I can see this isn’t going anywhere between us. What’s really on your mind tonight?”

Ryan closed his blue eyes briefly. “I met someone.”

Holly’s release of breath was audible. “That’s such a weight off my shoulders. I met someone too. Well not exactly someone new, but I’m sort of involved with someone I’ve known for a long time, though I don’t think I want to be… ” She trailed off, seeming a little embarrassed by her candidness. “What about you?”

“I met this woman that I can’t get out of my mind.”

“What’s she like?”

“She’s nothing like me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I met her in the craziest way. We were trying to save this dog on the freeway—”

Holly interrupted before he could finish his thought. “Wait. Are you talking about Sophie? My best friend, Sophie Reid?” She was suddenly more animated than she had been anytime that night.

“I didn’t exactly get her name.”

“But… Well, how would you describe her?”

“She’s about five foot three or four with yellow, no, now I think it’s purple, hair and a sunflower yellow Volkswagen Beetle with this clever vanity plate… ”

“EW A BUG,” they said together, laughing.

“That’s definitely Sophie,” she said, pausing uncertainly. “Are you guys—um—seeing each other?” she asked politely, though it was obvious from the sudden change in her demeanor that she already knew the answer.

“She won’t see me,” he said soberly. “But I’m pretty sure that there’s something there between us. I mean, on the surface we don’t have much in common, but it’s like we’re meant to be together.”

“Mmmm, she doesn’t date lawyers, you know,” Holly said. “It’s kind of like a bright line rule with her.”

“Why?” he asked, hoping Sophie’s best friend could shed some light on what he considered an unreasonable prohibition.

“I don’t feel comfortable disclosing that,” Holly said, clamming up. Clearly, she was in the “girls’ club.” He’d be lucky if he got one more morsel of information out of her tonight. “That’s something she should explain to you herself, I think.”

“I don’t exactly know how to contact her,” Ryan said, putting on the
lost little boy look that most women couldn’t help but find endearing. “Can you give me her number at least, so I can have that conversation with her?”

But Holly didn’t seem the least bit affected by his plea. “I’m sorry, I thought I heard someone’s voice,” Holly said, looking over to the crowded three-deep bar, distracted for a long moment. She turned back to the table. “Ryan, I don’t think I’d feel comfortable going against her wishes like that,” Holly said, clearly preoccupied, looking over her other shoulder now. She turned back to their conversation again, but she had lost her earlier enthusiasm. “I can tell you that she’s helping me do some volunteer work at the Korby Center next weekend.”

“The Korby Center?”

“You know how I organize volunteer events for Equia, right? Well, I’ve had a little problem getting volunteers for this thing we’re doing next weekend. We’re supposed to landscape and redecorate a residential home for foster kids who’ve aged out of the system.”

“Oh, I saw that in last month’s Otter newsletter. It seemed like a worthwhile cause. I’m surprised more people from work didn’t volunteer.”

“Well, it’s not too late to add yourself to that list. We can always use more volunteers. Plus, I guarantee Sophie will be there.”

He nodded, smiling once again. “I’d love to help you out.”

Holly chuckled. “I’m sure the Korby kids will appreciate your altruism.” She looked over her shoulder again. “I’ll, uh, e-mail you the details.” She looked at his crisp tailored clothes. “Oh, and you should dress down
…way down.”

They took a few minutes to finish up their coffees, and had just stood, ready to go, when a dark haired man strode over purposefully.

“Crap, Ryan. It’s Nick, that guy I’m sort of seeing.” Her speech grew hurried. “If I don’t get to say it later, thanks for the evening, it’s been great. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you and Sophie. I think you’ll be good for her.”

“Can we talk for just a second?” the Nick guy asked brusquely. He cast a quick disapproving glance at Ryan. “Alone.”

Sensing that the conversation Nick and Holly were about to have was for their ears only, Ryan took that opportunity to step away. “I’ll just arrange things with the valet. See you outside, Holly.”

When Ryan came back to take Holly home, it was clear that she and Nick were in their own universe and didn’t look for the world like they needed to be disturbed. But he wanted to make sure she was okay with that. It was the right thing to do.

As he approached, he heard her say, “I owe it to him to see this night through.”

Ryan cleared his throat. Nick dropped his hands and stepped back from Holly, their intense stare broken.

“Holly, you don’t owe me a thing. I had a very nice time with you tonight, but it looks like you have your hands full. So if everything’s okay here… ” She gave a reassuring nod. “I’ll see you at work sometime.” To Nick, he said, “You’re a really lucky guy. Make sure you get her home safely.”

With that, he turned on his heel and headed toward the line of shiny late model cars the valets had lined up
for the patrons leaving the restaurant and got in to his Acura, smiling. Whether it was God, karma, kismet, or fate, Ryan would not look a gift horse in the mouth. People were right when they compared the entertainment industry in Los Angeles to high school. It was the most intimate circle of people. And it had led him straight to Sophie. Sure, the date hadn’t gone well. It had been a freaking disaster. Nonetheless, he grinned like a fool the whole way home. By the time he met Sophie next weekend—He rolled the name around. Sophie. It suited her—he’d be ready, with a plan.