Chapter Five
IT ASTOUNDED VIOLET, that Missy’s debate of each ballroom stretched on, as though she’d never stepped a foot either of them. Then afterwards, she expressed the need to take another tour before making her final decision.
It was two ballrooms, pick one or the other.
However, unexpectedly, Violet’s short tolerance had nothing to do with Missy, or Joel for that matter...it was because of Ryder.
Exiting the lobby washroom with her blouse wrinkled, her panties twisted, and her mind...well...blustered, in a way that she’d never experienced in her entire life, had Violet shifting uneasily inside...but not on the outside for Ryder to glory in.
I appreciated that skirt more, when it was hiked up around your waist...ugh!
But why did the suggestion make her want to hike her skirt up right there in the lobby, and kiss that badgering man’s lips?
The fact that the Bensen couple were marrying in less than a month hadn’t even negatively passed through Violet’s mind. She should appreciate the diversion in her thoughts. After all, the Bensen wedding was responsible for her morning fluster.
If only the commotion in her head wasn’t caused by the knowledge that Ryder’s relaxed, laid-back eyes were waiting to meet hers and send her a look. Not just any look, like that of a casual acquaintance. No, Ryder continued to send her teasing looks, lusting looks, I know what we did looks that were childish and maddening.
Violet knew what they did. She couldn’t believe what they had done and she certainly didn’t need reminders from Ryder.
Violet, what were you thinking? It was clear, thinking hadn’t had any part in that regretful decision. Another prime example of the result of her filter avoidance.
What was Ryder doing here anyway? Playboy, take-a-woman-in-the-washroom, Ryder was offering his input for his best friend’s wedding. A wedding...a ceremony of united love. That was odd. He was odd.
He was hotHe was hot.
Violet’s unwelcome diversion clouded Missy’s voice as she explained the pros and cons of each ballroom to Joel...again.
Violet didn’t notice how more involved Joel was with this wedding compared to theirs, like she might have, if her eyes hadn’t went against her will to not look, and found Ryder.
What is wrong with you?
His outfit didn’t even look disheveled. Not his designer slacks or dress shirt or the sexy way he styled the longer locks of his hair upwards in a wave, while the sides were cut shorter. Nor was his presence unsettled, like Violet, even if she knew she wasn’t allowing it to show.
If you weren’t allowing it to show, you would have never looked at Ryder...again.
As expected, Ryder was watching her.
Why did you look if you knew he was going to be looking at you?
Did he do this with all the women he sacked? It was kind of creepy. She decided Ryder was odd and creepy.
Ryder winked at her.
He was so hot.
Violet turned away, appalled.
Liar. Did anyone see her break-down and show how bothered Ryder was making her?
Probably one of those bridesmaids shoved so far up his royal rear noticed.
Could this appointment get any worse? Or stretch on any longer?
She even considered going against her word, and texting Emma to finish this meeting. Emma would think Violet was requesting her presence to avoid the happy couple, rather than avoiding the best man, who was making it clear he would love another rendezvous in the washroom. The scary part was, deep down, hidden behind her filter, Violet wanted to take his hand and guide the way. That was crazy. That was crazy! If sex with Ryder was always that good, no wonder the bridesmaids were rubbing up against him at every opportunity.
Well ladies, I already took him for a joyride today. Not helpful, Violet.
Violet forced her eyes back to Ryder, deciding to face him head on, finished with playing his game. He could send her all the seductive looks he sent to all the women, but it didn’t mean that Violet would fold.
Ryder didn’t shy away from her stare, and she hadn’t expected him to. It was about proving to him that she wasn’t a little toy he could toss around, and that his handsome face wasn’t luring her, like he was challenging. What Violet hadn’t expected was the abrupt change in his look. Like a sudden change in wind direction, the seduction vanished from Ryder’s stare, along with the torturous teasing. The gaze he cast her was new, different than any man had ever given Violet. It was almost as though he was looking at her, actually looking at her...not her last name or the trailing line of assets that followed. That was crazy...wasn’t it?
Ryder left his spot, standing between two of the bridesmaids, to walk across the large tiled floor to Violet. Did he like what he saw? What did he see? What everyone else did?
He stopped beside her, less than a foot away...too close for comfort. Their arms were so close to touching. Violet could literally feel the heat tugging them together.
Ryder leaned over even closer to whisper, “I would go with the silver ballroom.”
So? She didn’t care.
Why would you choose the silver ballroom?
The wedding coordinator in her was curious...not herself. Violet had discovered over the years, couples who chose to unite under the tents at the beach, seemed madly in love, seeking a romantic union, while those who chose the ballrooms selected based on financial status. The gold room was grander, more impressive and upheld a respected reputation. Why would Ryder choose the silver ballroom?
Violet didn’t dare ask or show interest in his reasoning, but she didn’t have to, Ryder continued. “I mean the gold ballroom is obviously premium, with elegant theater-style decorating, larger area, and draping chandeliers.”
How did he notice draping chandeliers?
“However, I like the wall of windows at the back of the silver ballroom.” That was Violet’s favorite feature too. “It would be incredible for a winter wedding especially.”
He was right. Words could not describe how breath taking the backdrop of a winter snowfall through the glass, with the trees lightly dusted, creating a winter wonderland, was.
Violet didn’t concur out loud, instead she opted to put him in his place.
“Ryder, if ever the day comes for you to share vows with that one lucky lady, I will personally set you up with reservations...” She glanced at him. “...free of charge and make sure you experience exactly what the silver room has to offer.” That day would never present itself.
Violet turned her attention back to the wedding party. Her attention to the wedding party. That was a joke. Her concentration hadn’t been on the Bensen party since they left the lounge, but rather on the man standing beside her.
Ryder chuckled, a low dangerous, somewhat amused chuckle, before speaking to her in an even lower tone. “Why don’t we scrap reserving it for my lucky lady and reserve it for the two of us.”
Her teeth gritted together.
Hog.
He continued. “I wouldn’t mind hiking you onto the head table...” Against her will, the vision he described flashed in her head.
Violet refused to look at Ryder. Her fingers tightened around her iPad and her jaw clenched. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop it. Yes, she was showing emotion. Yes, she was letting him witness the effects of his words, but damn it a clenched jaw was better than the glare no one would mistake and inevitably question.
Missy and her posse continued to debate the ballroom.
Pick a room. Pick a room!
Joel made his way to Violet and Ryder. He stopped directly in Violet’s vision, so his un-tucked sweater was all she could see. Violet didn’t miss his rounded middle or his hands touching the small of her back. She realized a long time ago, that his intentions had not been to protect her or love her until death do them part. No, Joel was a selfish man, and he’d only ever thought about himself.
Joel’s attention was on Ryder.
Thank goodness.
“Ryder, tell me about what kept you? Don’t leave out any details. I want to hear all about the blonde and the brunette.”
I don’t want to hear! Keep your composure. I should text Emma. I should join Missy and the bridesmaids to hurry this along. I should be anywhere, but right here, right now, listening to this conversation.
Violet’s fingers didn’t retrieve her cell phone and her feet wouldn’t move. They were both attached to the part of her that did want to hear what Ryder had been up to before he arrived. It was probably one of the better ideas she’d had all day. Violet needed a crucial reminder of the man Ryder in fact was. An essential dose of reality telling her that Ryder was not looking at her, or even wanting to know her better. Ryder was a playboy. Her gut told her differently. Or else it was hope. Hope? For what? That Ryder wasn’t the man Joel said he was. Why? What difference did it make?
It didn’t make any difference. In order for Violet to move past the reaction that her body was having to Ryder, she needed to listen to this conversation and experience the authentic Ryder.