Ryan bought the parts for the skylight—Gen had said she would reimburse him—and arranged with Will to meet him at the ranch to help him put the thing in. They met at the house on a Thursday morning and then went out to the old barn together hauling a ladder, a power saw, and a toolbox.
The morning was bright and clear, the sky so blue it almost hurt to look at it, a cool breeze ruffling Ryan’s hair and making the grass ripple.
“You ever done one of these before?” Ryan asked Will.
“Not exactly. But I researched it last night on the Internet. Should be pretty simple.”
It was just like the college boy to do his research. Probably a good thing, too, since Ryan’s style would have been to get up there and start cutting and hammering and hope something good came out of it. Usually, it worked out.
Will explained what they had to do, then they leaned the ladder against the side of the barn and climbed up.
“Is it just me, or does this seem not entirely necessary?” Will asked.
“It’s not just you,” Ryan said as he ascended the ladder. Will was already up on the roof.
“Why are we doing this again?” Will asked. “I mean, I’m not complaining. I volunteered. I’m just wondering.”
“We’re doing this so Gordon Kendrick can pretend he’s outside, instead of actually going outside, where there is, apparently, a breeze.”
Will nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
They were both up there, almost thirty feet above the ground, contemplating the placement of the skylight, when they heard a voice calling Ryan’s name.
“Hey, Ryan! Are you up there?”
Gen. Her voice did unpredictable things to him. First it sent a quick hit of adrenaline to his chest, and then it made him feel unaccountably warm. The roof was steeply pitched, so he had to crawl on his hands and knees to the edge of it to look down at her.
“Hey,” he said companionably.
“Oh, God, it’s a long way up there. Be careful. Don’t fall and break a leg or anything. I’d feel really guilty if I asked you to do something stupid and you ended up killing yourself.”
“Well, it is stupid,” he agreed.
“I know. I know it is. Have I thanked you for doing it?”
“You have.”
“Well, thank you again. Really.”
He found that he enjoyed her gratitude, enjoyed making her happy. He also enjoyed the view from up here. She was wearing a low-cut top, something black and clingy, and the angle gave him enticing scenery that had nothing to do with the rolling hills or the ocean off in the distance.
“Happy to do it,” he said.
He was just starting to head back toward Will when she said, “Ryan?”
“Yeah?” He turned back toward her.
“After this is done, I’d like to take you to dinner. You know, to thank you for the skylight. Which is a stupid job you shouldn’t have to do. But you’re doing it anyway. And I’d really like to … you know. Do something. For you.”
She sounded nervous, and he was aware that she wasn’t just asking about a thank-you dinner. His heart started to beat a little bit faster, which struck him as a non-manly kind of response. Still, there it was.
“I’m not about to say no to that,” he said, trying to sound casual. It sounded casual to his own ears, but there was no accounting for hers.
“Well, good then.” She nodded in a that’s that kind of way. Her hair was loose today, and the sunlight made it glimmer like new copper. “Okay. I’ll let you get back to it.”
She started to walk away, then turned back as though she’d forgotten to say something. Then she nodded again, and turned again, and then she really did walk away.
It was Ryan’s effort to watch her walk away—to see the sway of her hips and the bounce of her hair—that caused him to lose his balance and slide toward the edge of the roof and the thirty-some feet of air beneath. He splayed out flat like a starfish, and that, thankfully, stopped him. The fact that he’d narrowly averted broken bones, head injuries, and possible paralysis caused his pulse to pound so hard he could hear it thump in his ears.
“You okay there?” Will asked from a few feet to Ryan’s left.
“Holy shit,” Ryan said. He tried to steady his breathing.
“That was Gen Porter down there, wasn’t it?” Will asked mildly.
“Uh … yeah. It was.”
“Distracting.” Will grinned.
“Holy shit,” Ryan said again.
“What am I doing? Why did I do that? What the hell was I thinking?!” Gen was back at the gallery, which was empty except for her, and she waved an arm for emphasis as she ranted into her cell phone.
“You asked a man you’re attracted to out on a date,” Kate said. “It’s the kind of thing adults do.”
“It’s the kind of thing idiots do,” Gen said. “Idiots, when they get all hot and bothered and take leave of their senses.”
“He said yes,” Kate reminded her.
Gen plopped into the chair behind her desk. “Yeah, but I told him it was a thank-you dinner for the skylight, and so now I don’t even know if he knows it’s a date.”
“He knows,” Kate said.
“How do you know he knows?”
Kate sighed. “He’s not stupid.”
“No, but he’s a man. Men don’t have a clue about this stuff. Emotions, and expectations, and … and subtext.”
“That’s true,” Kate admitted.
“But I couldn’t very well say, ‘Hey, Ryan, you want to go out with me on a date that I’m calling something other than a date because I’m too big of a wuss to admit it’s a date?’ ”
“Well, I guess you could, but it’s a mouthful,” Kate observed.
“So now I don’t know what to do,” Gen fretted.
“Yes you do.”
“No, I don’t. Tell me. What should I do?”
Kate’s voice was patient. “You take him out to dinner, say thank you for the skylight, then run your hand up his thigh during the soup course.”
Gen didn’t say anything.
“Gen?”
“Sorry. I was visualizing.”
“You’ll be okay,” Kate said. “You know how to do this. You’ve dated men before.”
She had. But those men weren’t Ryan. Just thinking about her hand and his thigh and the soup course made her palms damp.
“Right. I have. I can do this,” Gen agreed.
“Just, the licking thing?” Kate said. “You should probably save that for after dessert.”