Chapter 9

Nine

Ryder

M onday comes much sooner than I want it to.

As I sit at the counter of the Kandy's cafe, my mind replays the last few days. Each of the days were spent much like the first one—with Kandy under me, over me, taking me any and every way she could. I keep thinking I'll have my fill of her and be ready to move on, but since taking her in the diner's kitchen, it seems every time I sink into her delicious, sweet body, it only serves to fuel my craving for more.

Of course, all the times I took her is mixed with all the frequent interruptions from her neighbors—a call involving a goat and dog caught tangled together in a sewer drain. Apparently, a frequent occurrence. A distraught young woman needing a can of gas brought to the side of the road where her car stalled. A guy needing a power of attorney form notarized, and someone with an urgent desire to license their dog.

It found that in addition to being the owner of the town's only restaurant, mechanic shop, gas station, and fire chief, Kandy is also the only notary in a fifty-mile radius and the town clerk.

The woman never sleeps.

By this morning, I was ready to put her on the back of my bike and ride off into the sunset with her just to give her a few minutes of peace. But she never once complains about all the people around her needing something.

Over the weekend, my thoughts lingered on the idea of continuing my relationship with her. I even entertained the idea of moving her into my Boston apartment. But as the weekend progressed, I learned a few things about Kandy. Her mother passed first from a car accident and her father followed shortly after. Her belief is he died of a broken heart. All this happened only a year after me and my family uprooted to New York City.

The poor woman hadn't even graduated high school yet and already lost both her parents.

The gas station and diner had been theirs, and the only thing she has left to remember them by.

I also learned that the people I labeled busybodies at the diner Sunday morning were actually the people Kandy considered family. They stepped up to the plate when she was alone at seventeen and hadn't expected to be left to take care of herself and her parents' business at such a young age. My feelings about her nosy neighbors softened once I realized one of the reasons she did so much to care for them was because they'd all been the ones to take care of her when she was alone in the world.

Having lost so much at such a young age, followed by the loss of her douche fiancé to her maid of honor, it made it crystal clear Kandy needed the people of her town as much as they needed her. She needed to feel like she had a place in this world. With each new revelation, the idea of taking Kandy back to Boston faded a bit more and by this morning I knew for a fact she was here to stay.

And while I can offer her all the comforts money can buy, no one can replace a sense of belonging. I never had to fight for a place in this world. I grew up with a family support system, commanded men in battle and fought hard to bring them all home alive. I'm friends with most of them and the ones who have retired from service now work with me in my securities firm.

No fancy sprawling apartment with modern decor takes the place of family and friends.

"Hey, there, boy. I hear you're hitting the road later today." Tommy slides onto the stool next to me, clapping me on the shoulder.

I tip my chin down in acknowledgement.

"I just poked my head into the workshop and Kandy is working on your bike. Guess you're excited to get back to the city and leave our little Podunk town behind. Big shot like you."

I turned my head swiftly to look at the old man next to me. "You know about me? I didn't think the news of my firm travelled this far."

Tommy reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a rolled up magazine. He slaps it on the counter between us so the glossy business magazine with my picture on the cover is face up. "Ryder Wolfe, you think your family's old friend don't check up on you from time to time? Think your momma doesn't call and share all the news she can to my Betty? You're out of contact with your old high school friends, but not us old-timers. We stick together."

Speaking of high school friends. Kandy's the only one of them I've seen around.

"Seems like a lot of people have moved away."

Tommy nods. "Yeah, yeah. Small towns aren't for everyone. You gotta love the people around you and their quirks to make it work."

I smile.

"I hear ya, Tommy. I hear ya."

"Not sure if you know about what happened to Kandy's parents?"

I nod. "She told me about the accident and then her dad passing."

"Well, not sure if she mentioned it or not, but when her dad left us I kinda stepped in." He rubbed the back of his neck, obviously ill at ease.

Kandy hadn't mentioned it, but it isn't too tough to see Tommy taking care of the girl he knew since birth. "She needed someone and you were there. That's not easy."

He shrugs. "Something like that. I've tried to step in and help her like I'd have wanted him to do if he were in my shoes. But no one can replace a girl's daddy." He picks up the magazine and slaps it back down on the counter as he all but squirms on his stool. "Well, hell. What I'm trying to say here is…what are your intentions toward Kandy? You two haven't exactly made a secret of the fact you've been going at it like bunnies since you got here."

I stare at the gruff man who is the closest thing Kandy has to a father and feel a bit of discomfort creep in. I've never blushed before in my life but Tommy has me thinking I'm about to have my first time.

Years in the military and a few more building my company from the ground up didn't afford me a lot of time to stop and think about others' feelings. But damn, sitting here now, I feel like a teenager facing the father of my prom date.

Only in this case, my prom date's dad is well aware that I've been spending every spare minute screwing his pretty, innocent daughter.

Before I can formulate an answer, the diner door slams open so hard it bangs off the back wall. A tall man sporting a blond buzz cut and wearing camo cargos and an olive drab t-shirt stomps into the diner. All the pretty candles Kandy lit in the remaining pumpkins blow out, and it pisses me off to see her hard work unappreciated.

Bloodshot blue eye meets mine. The guy looks like he went on a binger and forgot to clean up before stepping into public.

I don't care if this is the last place to get food on the way to somewhere else, he could keep moving. I slide to my feet, glancing at Tommy.

Gone was his concerned father's expression. In its place is one I am beginning to become familiarized with again.

It's the one he wears when he stumbles across a juicy piece of gossip. He leans back on his stool, elbows resting behind him on the counter. He looks like he is resisting the urge to rub his palms together.

What the hell?

"Buzz. What brings you here?" Tommy askes.

Buzz? Ah. I see.

At the name of Kandy's erstwhile fiancé, the hair on my neck stands on end and I stretch my hands at my sides, itching to knock the guy flat on his ass.

"Where is she? Kandy?" Buzz yells toward the order window, completely ignoring my presence.

Pretty sure he won't be ignoring me for long. I've been waiting to get my hands on this guy since about five minutes after I got here. I can feel a grin tugging at my lips at the prime opportunity dropped in my lap.

Before I have a chance to say a word or really even make a good fist, the diner door slams open again.

This time Kandy storms in, her hair flying wildly around her shoulders. My grin widens a little when I realize she is wearing the gray Henley shirt from yesterday. The sleeves are rolled up about a hundred times and the hem hangs almost to her knees over a pair of black leggings. Her violet eyes flash with fiery anger as she takes in the scene going down in the middle of her diner.

This is about to get good. Those eyes land on me, and the full force of their fire make my dick hard enough to pound cement.

Damn, I love watching my girl get riled.

At first I think Buzz will be her first victim, but it's a good thing I don't bet. She looks through him as if he were a ghost and levels me to the floor with one look. "You are not going to hit him."

Well, talk about deflating a man's plans. I roll my shoulders a bit, wondering if she'd get mad if he threw the first punch and then I hit him.

But apparently being the recipient of Kandy's attention suddenly makes me less invisible to Buzz. His gaze rakes over me and he glares like I'm supposed to cower or some shit.

Not gonna happen, buddy.

But it is Kandy he addresses. "Who the fuck is this?"

When Kandy's head whips around and she pins him with a look hard enough to wither a dandelion from a thousand paces, I almost feel sorry for the man. Almost.

"Oh, sorry, Buzz." Kandy's voice drips with disdain. "I didn't recognize you without Shana's mouth wrapped around your toothpick-sized dick. You know I'm glad I got to see the less than stellar package before tying the knot with you. I doubt you could have taken my virginity with the lack of size."

Ouch. Damn. I chuckle and Buzz's gaze darts to me for a brief instant before returning to Kandy.

"Come on, Kandy. You know Shana didn't mean anything to me."

Kandy crosses her arms and faces off against him. "Well, gee, don't I feel special that you ruined our wedding for my supposed best friend that meant nothing to you!"

"That's not what I meant. You know I always loved you."

"Yes, I could feel the love when I saw you fisting Shana's hair while she was on her knees in front of you." Kandy held a finger up. "No, wait. That wasn't love I was feeling. It was nausea." She practically spits the last word.

"You've got to understand, Kandy. You don't know how much pressure I was under."

Standing back watching this whole show unfold, I wonder if Buzz has always been this whiny. I don't remember him from school so I don't have anything to go on.

I weigh my options here. I want to step in and end things with my fists, but Kandy shouldn't have to deal with this piece of shit in the middle of her diner.

And I have a feeling she needs this confrontation. And as much as I might want to fight her battle for her, she doesn't need me for this. So instead, I stand my ground and keep a careful watch. I'll do my best to let my girl have her say.

But if the fucker gets out of line, I'll be right there to put him back in his place. Which is nowhere near my girl.