Lonesome Ryder: Lonesome Ryder / Restaurant Romeo. Carol Finch

wide before leaving the ranch that morning. Now they were shut tightly, enshrouding the room in gloom and doom.

      “What happened, Seymour? Did you get lost?” Wade asked. “I knew I should’ve given you a compass and drawn you a map.”

      “Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you looming there in the shadows,” she tossed back flippantly as she juggled the paper sacks and plastic bags in both arms. Four more sacks dangled from her fingertips.

      “I distinctly remember asking you not to yank open all the drapes and allow the glaring sunlight in here.”

      “Right, Count Drac, I forgot that blood-sucking vampires prefer cryptlike darkness,” she countered as she headed for the kitchen without glancing in Wade’s direction. “Now where’d I put that stake I intended to drive through your heart? It’s never around when I need it.”

      He ignored her taunt. “Why’d you change the furniture in here? I nearly broke my other leg when I rounded the corner, expecting the furniture to be exactly where I set it.”

      “Well,” she said, halting in the middle of the room. “According to feng shui—”

      “Who the hell is he? And what does he know about rearranging my ranch house!” he blustered.

      “Feng shui is the Chinese philosophy of interior design,” she explained.

      He let loose with a disgusted snort. Surprise, surprise.

      “It’s based on the theory that if you change your environment, you can change aspects of your life.”

      “I liked my life just fine until you got here,” he grumped.

      “Well, feng shui will make you feel better,” she insisted, “because now this room is well balanced and well lighted—or it would be if you’d open the drapes. This room creates and promotes the flow of positive energy to counter your negativity.”

      His response was another disgruntled snort.

      “So, how’d the roundup and branding go today?” she asked.

      “Fine. Quint got kicked in the shin while inoculating one of my calves,” he reported.

      “I’m sure that made your day.”

      “Damn, Seymour, whaddya do? Have your tongue sharpened while you were in town?” he called after her.

      “Ah, you noticed. Glad to know I didn’t waste my money.”

      “Are we eating tonight? Or am I supposed to chew on my fingernails to stave off the hunger pangs?” he asked.

      Laura dumped the sacks on the kitchen counter and grinned to herself. She wasn’t sure, but the bite in his words didn’t seem as sharp as it once was. Now his tone leaned more toward teasing humor. Could it be that Wade actually missed having her around to torment and was actually glad to have her back? Naw, must be her imagination and Annie’s ridiculous notion that beneath all that razzing and taunting Wade liked her and was determined not to let it show.

      “Supper will be ready at the usual time, Your Majesty,” she called to him. “Oh, and before I forget to tell you, I took the liberty of inviting Duff up to the house to dine with me tomorrow night.”

      “Liberties aren’t included in your job description,” Wade threw back.

      “Too bad. He’s going to teach me to play poker, guzzle beer and smoke cigars. He also promised to teach me how to two-step later in the week so Annie and I can go honky-tonkin’ Saturday night. She’s gonna set me up with a hot date.”

      “You don’t have to shout,” Wade muttered as he propped himself against the kitchen wall.

      “Sorry, I thought you were still in the living room.”

      “I wouldn’t advise accepting any date Annie Nelson arranges for you. She has lousy taste in men.”

      Laura paused from sorting and arranging the cold food in the fridge and flung him an annoyed glance. “There was nothing wrong with her taste in men during college. I met her boyfriend, Mark Childress, this afternoon. I’d give him an eight on a scale of ten.”

      “A five would be pushing it,” he remarked.

      Laura let her appreciative gaze wander over Wade’s muscular physique, admiring the way he filled out his shirt and jeans. Annie was right. Wade Ryder oozed sex appeal. He was definitely beefcake material and she’d like to sneak another peek at all the rippling muscle and sinewy flesh concealed beneath his clothes.

      “Depends on who you’re comparing him to,” she said belatedly. Compared to Wade, Mark wouldn’t register a three.

      Whoa, don’t even start comparing other men to Wade, she cautioned herself. That implied Wade was the standard measure of excellence.

      “What are you looking at, Seymour?” he questioned as he glanced curiously down his torso. “Did I button my shirt improperly?”

      Laura snapped her attention back to the interior of the fridge and placed the food on the glass shelves. “Not to worry. You’re properly buttoned up, except for your lip and it would require surgery to keep that shut.”

      “I’m trying to make friendly conversation.” He scowled at her and his thick brows flattened menacingly over his eyes.

      Friendly? That’d be the day. “Don’t strain yourself, Ryder. You have enough injuries already,” she snapped.

      He held his tongue so long that Laura glanced up to determine the problem. Her breath lodged in her throat when those laserlike green eyes zeroed in on her. His penetrating gaze made a thorough sweep of her knit blouse, denim shorts and the exposed length of her legs. She felt her body burn each place his riveting gaze touched. Was something going on here that she’d missed while she had her head stuck in the fridge? How could they possibly have gone from snappy repartee to this sizzling sensual awareness that leaped back and forth between them like two-twenty volts of electrical current?

      One smoldering look from Wade and desire contracted inside her like a coil of fire. She’d never experienced anything remotely like this before.

      Laura felt as if time had ground to a halt, as if the looks passing between them were trying to define themselves. Yet, she wasn’t sure she could correctly decode the message he was sending because she constantly received mixed signals from him. Nevertheless, she was helpless to restrain the feminine vibes her body bleeped at him. Just what the heck was going on between them? She wished she knew for certain.

      Was it hot in here? Suddenly the heat seemed stifling and breathing was a real chore. Her gaze dropped to the sensuous curve of his mouth and Laura was struck by the tormenting realization that she was starving to death for a taste of him. She wondered what it would be like to exchange kisses rather than saucy retorts, wondered how it would feel to be pressed familiarly against that rock-solid body, despite his encumbering cast and sling.

      Call her reckless and crazy but she’d really, really like to know how it felt to be kissed and held by him. For the sake of curiosity, if nothing else. Oh right, who was she kidding? Her curiosity wasn’t the only thing that was dying to find out how well he kissed.

      Laura’s heart stalled in her chest when Wade pushed away from the wall and took one, then two hobbling steps toward her. Then he halted in his tracks, muttered something to himself and stood there, looking at her as if he was waging some tormenting internal battle. Her heart plummeted to the tiled floor and she felt like whaling him upside the head for refusing to approach her. He just kept staring at her with that exasperating mixture of hungry need and wary caution.

      Hoo-kay, if he didn’t have the gumption to just kiss her and get it over with then she’d have to take the initiative. After all, she’d come to Oklahoma to break old habits, explore her newfound freedom and make her own decisions without her brothers’ constant censorship.

      Mustering her courage, Laura closed the small distance between them, pushed up on tiptoe and kissed him squarely