Roughing It With Ryan

“Don’t forget, great kitchen,” Taylor said. “And as your landlord, I give you permission to run your business out of your place.”

Suzanne felt like a fool with all of them looking at her, but she was putting her foot down on this one.

Opening a catering business was as bad as…as dating. A recipe for failure, and she’d failed enough. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“Would you excuse us a minute?” Taylor asked the men, and hooking an arm around Suzanne’s neck, backed them up a few feet. “Are you crazy?” she whispered. “This is an excellent opportunity. A job and a hunk, all in the same turn.”

“We swore off men,” Suzanne whispered back.

“No, we swore to remain single. Nothing was said about living like a monk. Suzanne, have you seen him look at you? Do this. Do him. It might relax you a bit.”

“Taylor!”

“Oh, it’s just a job. A one-nighter at that. And hey, if I can sell off my beloved furniture to keep us in this damn building, you can make a few snacks for a party.”

It burned, but Taylor was right. With a sigh, Suzanne turned back to the waiting men, then nearly swallowed her tongue at the way Ryan was looking at her, a little smile curving the lips she knew tasted better than even ice cream. “Okay.”

“Okay, you’ll do it?” asked Ryan’s worker. “You’ll cater the party?”

She looked into his hopeful eyes, and also his worker’s. “I’ll cater the party.”

“Cool!”

Ryan just smiled, and damn if her stomach didn’t quiver. “Why are you doing this?” she asked him softly.

“Doing what?”

“Being…nice.”

“I’m always nice.” He laughed when she merely lifted a doubtful brow. “Okay, maybe I don’t like to cook.”

“Can’t you mean,” offered the first worker, zipping his mouth when Ryan sent him a long look.

Hmm. So the man wasn’t perfect after all. He couldn’t cook. Somehow that made Suzanne feel better. A lot better.

IF SUZANNE THOUGHT about how much she’d done in just three days her head would start spinning. And seeing as she was busy hunched over a large tray, putting together the innards for egg rolls as fast as her fingers could move, now wouldn’t be a good time to get overwhelmed.

She’d moved her belongings, few as they were, from the loft apartment down one flight of stairs.

Taylor let her borrow some furniture so that the bigger apartment didn’t seem so bare. Suzanne had scoured the South Village want-ads for a job and had blisters on her fingers from filling out applications. And because she did love it, and because she’d grown fond of eating, she agreed to several more catering jobs-as a hobby only. She and Taylor had gone outlet shopping to stock her new kitchen, which indeed, with some cleaning-aka hours of elbow grease-had turned out to be more than she could have hoped for.

Of course her living room was still empty except for her favorite candles here and there. And it would stay that way for a while, as she’d used her one credit card on the kitchen. But that was the least of her problems at the moment.

Ryan’s workers, Rafe and Russ, she’d learned, were young, wild and wonderful. For their twentieth birthday party they vowed to eat whatever she cooked, though they’d admitted they loved Chinese food. In light of that, she’d made a huge tub of fried rice and was nearly finished the egg rolls.

And she was loving it.

As a hobby. The thought of doing this seriously as a business terrified her.

“Oh yeah, that’s a girl.” Russ, followed by Rafe pushed into her kitchen, their noses wriggling as they sniffed appreciatively at the scents.

“Smells heavenly,” Taylor agreed, right behind them.

“Oh, man, I’ll say.” Russ rubbed his belly. “We’re done for the day, heading home. See you there with all this food, right?”

“Right,” Suzanne said, then looked at him over her shoulder. “Wait. You mean you’re heading to Ryan’s house?”

“Well, yeah. But his house used to be ours, so I still say it sometimes.” Rafe reached in to steal an egg roll but Suzanne rapped him on the wrist. “His place used to be your place,” she repeated as understanding dawned. “You’re…brothers.”

“Yep.” Russ beamed. “But don’t tell Ryan we told you, he doesn’t like people to know we’re related.”

Aha! Proof positive Ryan-the-Gorgeous was in deed just a pretty face. Sure, he had a kiss that could melt bones, and sure, just a look from those dark eyes made her stupid, but inside he was petty and a big jerk. Good, because petty and jerky she could resist.

Probably.

“If everyone knew we were brothers, then the other laborers might figure out we get the best hours and more pay.” Russ glanced pathetically at the egg rolls. “And if they figured that out, they’d also figure out we have less experience than some of them, and Ryan doesn’t want a mutiny.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Taylor said, looking like a queen surrounded by her servants, as always dressed to the hilt. Today she wore a linen sundress with nary a wrinkle despite the fact she’d been digging through her storage unit making a list of inventory. “Isn’t that sweet, Suzanne?”

Yeah, sweet.

Damn it.

“What’s sweet?” Ryan wanted to know, squeezing into the kitchen with an easy smile and a shirt, thank you God, which meant maybe Suzanne had half a chance in hell on maintaining her concentration. He’d been distracting her for days, smiling at her, talking to her. Pretending to be a nice guy, which she had to admit, he seemed to have down to a science.

More reason to steer clear. She destroyed nice guys. Her aimlessness, her lack of regimentation and her Carter family ways drove men crazy, made them selfish and turned them into men who accused their exes of needing sex therapists.

Unconcerned about the danger lurking in his future, Ryan moved past the others, leaned in toward Suzanne and sniffed. “Mmm. Heaven.”

She stepped aside. “It’s just food.”

“I meant you,” he said, a smile in his eyes. “You smell like heaven.”

Determined not to react even though her knees did that annoying wobble thing, she put her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me I was cooking for your brothers?”

His smile didn’t falter. “Would you still have taken the job?”

Damn it, probably not.

With a playful tug on her apron, he grinned. “You sure look cute in the kitchen.”

He probably thought women were cute pregnant and barefoot, too. “Are you hitting on me?”

“Definitely.”

She had to laugh. What else could she do? Besides, laughing hid the tremor in her voice. “Everyone out,” she decided, shoving them all toward the door, ignoring the groans and moans. “Out, out, out.”

“See you tonight,” Ryan whispered in her ear, managing in the shuffle to stroke her jaw with his big hand. “Save me a dance.”

Did he have to have such a voice on him? When he lowered it like that, all husky and suggestive, it sent shivers down her spine. Remember the vow-no men. “I don’t dance.”

He studied her with those sleepy, sexy eyes. “I can teach you.”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t, I said I don’t.”

He just smiled. “We’ll see.”