Roughing It with Ryan. Jill Shalvis
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Taylor sighed and rolled her head on her neck. “What gave me away? The not wanting to put money into the trees?”
“Let’s just say desperation recognizes desperation.”
Taylor laughed. “You know what? I like you. Okay, here’s the humiliating truth. I grew up with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth—the best of schools, the whole works. College at Brown University, courtesy of Great-Grandpa’s Swiss bank account. After graduation, I traveled Europe for fun.”
“Also on Grandpa’s Swiss bank account?” Suzanne guessed, and when Taylor nodded, she shook her head. “I’m not feeling sorry for you yet.”
“I know, we’re getting to that.” Taylor lifted her hands in a surrendering gesture. “I was spoiled rotten, I admit it. I never worked a day in my life, never worried about money, nothing. Then Grandpa, who I only saw every few years when he felt the need to see firsthand how his money was paying off, up and died on me.”
“How inconsiderate,” Suzanne murmured.
“But he left me this building.”
“It’s prime real estate. It’s got to be worth a for tune.”
“Yeah, if you have a fortune to spend on it.” Taylor grimaced. “He didn’t leave me any money to go with it, not one single dime. I’ve never had to save money and I don’t have a job so I’m flat broke.”
“Except for this building.”
“Except for this building,” she agreed. “Obviously I need tenants, as I’ve found I’m rather fond of eating.
I figure I can get cash flow from the rentals. And as it all starts to come in, I promise to fix the place up. If you want to help, I’ll give you a break on the rent. So…still want the loft?”
Suzanne might have grown up with her comedian father, who thought everything was a joke, but she did have a brain. “Why not just sell and pocket the dough?”
Taylor vehemently shook her head. Not a single hair fell out of place. “Cave on my first real challenge? No way.”
Suzanne felt herself let loose a genuine smile—her first since finding her belongings stacked in the hall and the locks changed. “You know, I think I like you back.”
Taylor’s return smile came slow and easy. “Good.” There seemed to be relief in that smile. “Here are the rental forms. Just you, right?”
“Just me. Single forever, from this point on.”
“Ah. Something else we have in common.”
“I mean it. I’m…” What the hell. “I am relationship cursed.”
Taylor laughed, then when Suzanne didn’t, her laughter faded. “You’re…not kidding.”
“Not on this, believe me.” She lifted a hand and made a solemn vow. “No matter what the temptation, I shall resist.”
“I’m with you. No matter the temptation,” Taylor agreed just as solemnly. “Even temptation in the form of a magnificent tree man with an ass that makes my knees weak.”
Suzanne’s lips twitched. “Even that.” She signed on the dotted line.
“To us,” the pretty blonde said, lifting an imaginary toast. “And a prosperous future all on our own. No men. Soon as I can afford it, I’ll buy real champagne to toast with.”
“To us,” Suzanne agreed with a smile. “Good luck, Taylor.”
“And to you, Suzanne.”
Suzanne raised both her imaginary glass and her gaze to the ceiling, picturing her loft above.
Luck? She, for one, was going to need it.
2
RYAN ALONDO stood in his shower, head bent as the hot water beat down on his back. His hands braced on the wall kept his exhausted body vertical because he wasn’t certain he could trust himself not to fall asleep right there on his feet. He stood that way until the hot water gave out and he turned off the flow of water.
And then found not a single towel in sight. “Angel!”
“I know, I know, I took the last clean towel.” A giggle followed from just outside the bathroom door. “Sorry.”
Great, she was sorry and he was bare ass naked. And cold.
Outside the small beveled window of the bathroom came the sounds of a whipping wind. A storm was definitely brewing but he was too tired to think about what that might mean to the countless property owners who had disregarded his recommendations that old trees be cut down before they blew down. Right now he just wanted to dry off, eat something and then sleep for a decade or two. Since no towel had materialized, he shoved his wet legs into his jeans, wincing when the thick denim clung to his wet body.
When he stepped out of the bathroom, Angel’s voice came from the kitchen. “Your fridge is empty but I found a can of soup. I heated it up for you.”
His fridge wouldn’t be empty if she hadn’t had friends over studying until all hours the night before, but he refrained from pointing that out because, as he walked into the kitchen, she was smiling at him.
As always, the heart he’d never learned to harden caved.
“I know it’s a pain in your butt having your baby sister crash at your place,” she said softly, watching him sit at the table and pull the bowl of soup closer. “But Russ and Rafe are such pigs I can’t handle their place.”
Their brothers were pigs, so he nodded and started eating. He was starving. But soup wasn’t going to cut it, so he could only hope something more substantial still existed in his cupboards. Anything.
“Lana’s place will be ready by the weekend, and I’ll move in with her.”
Ryan put down his spoon, and looked at his baby sister. She wasn’t really a baby anymore at eighteen but as he’d practically raised her, it was a tough image to dispel. The baby sister he’d taught to read, slug a baseball out of the park and drive a car in between the dotted lines was going to move in with Lana, a fast, big-mouthed girl whose behavior made his jaw feel too tight. “I thought Lana had a live-in boyfriend,” he said carefully when what he really wanted to say was “no way.”
“She kicked him out.”
Much as he wanted his own space back, including his clean towels, he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he thought Lana’s no-good boyfriend was around. “Promise?”
“Promise.” From behind, Angel wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his. “You’re cute when you’re worried. I love you, Ryan.”
He groaned. “Oh no, the I-love-you card. What do you need?”
She laughed in delight. “Nothing. For a change. Absolutely nothing.”