He pulls out my guitar case and passes it to me. My mouth goes dry when he suddenly whips off his shirt, exposing a muscular chest and a set of six pack abs unlike anything I’ve ever seen up close. His scent hits me in a wave — sweat and cigarette smoke and something distinctly male. It’s an intoxicating combination. I try to glance away, but my eyes seem to be superglued to his skin.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I stammer. My grip is so tight on the handle of my guitar case, I’m surprised it doesn’t snap in half.
Ryder winks at me as he tosses his work polo into the back of the van. After a second of digging around, he locates a faded gray band t-shirt and yanks it over his head. I can’t make out any of the letters except LIVE AT THE RYMAN at the bottom.
He shuts the sliding door with a soft click and peers down at my face. I must look at little shellshocked, because he grins wider than I’ve ever seen.
“Don’t worry, I often have this effect on women. It’ll pass. Just give it a few minutes.” His voice drops to imitate the monotonous tone of a medical infomercial. “If your condition persists for longer than four hours, please consult your doctor.”
Blushing, I punch him lightly on the arm. “Shut up.”
He takes the guitar from my grip and glances down in anticipation. “Ready?”
“For…?”
“Whatever we came here to do.” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
I blast the same the look back at him. “You’re not coming in with me.”
“You’re going to make me wait in the car like a dog with the window cracked? It’s a hundred degrees out here! That’s just inhumane, Felicity.”
“You don’t have to wait for me! I’ll get home on my own.”
“How?”
“I’ll call a cab.”
He shakes his head. “That’s ridiculous. I’m already here.”
“But…”
“Look… it’s an assisted living place, right?”
“Nursing home,” I murmur. “How’d you know.”
“There are about seventy handicap parking spots within a hundred-yard radius.”
I crack a smile. It’s true.
“I’m guessing there’s a waiting room.” He stares at me. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“Great. I’ll wait in said waiting room. You do whatever it is you came here to do. And when you’re ready to leave, I’ll drive you home. Simple as that. I promise I won’t even ask you any questions about you covert ops mission here at the lovely Ashcroft.”
“Elmwood,” I correct lowly.
“Whatever.”
My heart is hammering against my ribs as I stare up at him. I can’t think of a thing to ask except, “Why?”
He looks confused. “Why what?”
“Why would you do this for me?”
“Friends, Felicity. Remember?”
What a strange concept, for a girl who’s never had any.