“You were gone when I woke up,” he said, brushing a kiss to my lips.
“I promised Megan we’d work out this morning,” I said. His hands had settled firmly on my hips, pulling me against him. “She’d have killed me if I bailed on her.”
“What do you want to do today?” he asked.
“You don’t have to work?”
“Nope. I’m all yours.”
A whole Saturday just to spend together without either of us having to work was an unexpected pleasure. He’d been working so much lately, we hadn’t had time to just be together.
“I just need to run home and take care of McClane first,” he said.
I grimaced at the mention of Ryker’s huge police dog. The canine had flunked out of his training and Ryker had adopted him. I wasn’t a dog person, so of course McClane adored me.
Ryker’s phone buzzed and as he checked the text message, I began cleaning up the kitchen. Neither of us were amazing chefs, but between Ryker and me, we managed to cook a few nights a week.
“Hey, that’s a buddy of mine,” he said, coming up behind me. “Texting me, asking if we want to join him on his boat on the lake today.”
“What kind of boat?” I asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “Does it matter? It’s a beautiful and sunny September day, and winter will be here all too soon.”
“I like winter,” I protested, loading dishes into the dishwasher.
“You’re crazy,” he said. “Snow and ice, colds and flu. Winter sucks.”
“Christmas and fireplaces, sweaters and a white winter wonderland. It all depends on how you look at it, Mr. Cynical.”
Coming from behind me, he slid his arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck. “Maybe if I have you to cuddle with in front of a fire, I won’t mind the cold as much.”
“Maybe not,” I agreed. Things were going well with Ryker. Too well. It was almost scary if I dwelled on it. So I didn’t.
“Go change and don’t forget your suit,” he said, pushing me toward the bedroom.
I supposed there were worse ways to spend a Saturday than lounging on a boat on Lake Michigan with my boyfriend.
I slipped my bikini on and wore my shorts and a T-shirt over it, layering on a light button-down shirt in case it got chilly this evening. I grabbed my sun bag with my hat and sunscreen, slipped on a pair of sandals, and was ready to go.
As expected, McClane was exceptionally enthusiastic to see me when we arrived at Ryker’s house, and I grimaced as he tried to lick any part of me he could reach.
“McClane! Sit!”
The dog obeyed Ryker’s command—eventually—his tail thumping the ground and his tongue lolling as he gazed up at me in adoration.
“If you’d just say hello to him, he’d leave you alone,” Ryker said, heading past me into the hallway that led to his bedroom.
“That is so not true,” I muttered.
“I heard that,” Ryker called out. I shot a glare down the hall.
Gingerly, I patted McClane’s head a couple of times. “Hi, McClane. Now stop trying to lick me.” As I’d feared, petting him only encouraged his enthusiasm. I squealed in dismay as he jumped up, placing his paws on my shoulders. A big warm puff of dog breath blew right in my face and I nearly gagged.
“McClane, get off her,” Ryker said, walking past again and snapping his fingers. The dog reluctantly sat back down on the floor, his ears drooping. The dejection on his face almost made me feel bad for him. Almost. I heard the sound of dog food rattling in the kitchen and so did McClane. His ears perked up and he was off like a shot.
I waited, not daring to get within McClane’s line of sight again, and Ryker came back from the kitchen. He’d changed into a white tank, a worn pair of jeans, and as I’d done, he’d thrown on an unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt over the top. His dog tags glinted in the sunlight as he climbed on his motorcycle and slid on mirrored shades.
Yum.
“Let’s go, babe.”
No need to tell me twice.
I put on the helmet I so disliked and climbed behind him on the back of the bike—a mode of transportation I was gradually becoming accustomed to, but doubted I’d ever feel safe doing—and wrapped my arms around his chest to hold on. It was hot today, already pushing the mid-eighties, and I could feel sweat trickling down my back.
Thirty minutes later, we were pulling in to a lot and parking. My legs felt numb from riding the bike and my knees were rubbery. The sudden quiet after the engine had been roaring in my ears was a welcome relief.
“So who’s the buddy?” I asked, following Ryker as he took my hand and began walking down the pier. I could smell the water now and there was a hard breeze blowing, easing the heat a bit.