2. Michela

Chapter 2

Ryan's home is even more stunning than I'd imagined. Tucked away from the bustling small city, it's an oasis of tranquility. The drive up the winding road had me second-guessing my GPS, and I almost called him to ask for directions, but eventually, the gleaming lights of his place appeared. It's modern with clean lines and enormous windows that give a panoramic view of the forest beyond.

I grab the bottle of wine I picked up in town. Ryan offered to let me shower at his house since I hadn't found my bathroom supplies, but I put my foot down on that freaking bad idea. While he went home to order us dinner, I rushed around and found a change of clothes and my bathroom box.

I knock on the door, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness flutter in my stomach. I can't freaking believe I'm actually having dinner with grown-up Ryan Rinaldi. As my brother's best friend, he was a constant fixture in our home until he moved away to attend college in Houston. Then the boy who's always owned me, heart and soul, disappeared completely, crushing my young hopes and dreams.

From an early age, I knew without a doubt that he was meant to be mine. After all, he'd owned my heart from the beginning. I had hoped he'd eventually return after college, but it never seemed to happen. I kept up with what he's been doing through my brother and Granny Em, Ryan's grandmother, always hoping he wasn't seeing someone.

After graduating from college, I decided to make a move to Silver Spoon Falls since it was apparent Ryan didn't plan on returning to New York. Now that I'm here, I have to find a way to convince him we're meant to be before my brother gets wind of what I'm up to.

Taking a deep breath, I look around. The house is even more stunning in person, with its sleek modern lines and expansive glass windows that reflect the evening light. Standing here, waiting for Ryan to answer, I can see how much of himself he's poured into creating this space.

The door swings open, and there he is, looking effortlessly handsome in a casual button-down and jeans. He smiles that same disarming grin that turns my heart to mush.

"Michela," he says warmly, stepping aside to let me in. "It's so good to see you." Oh my God, he looks good. I barely resist the urge to fan myself. He stands at an imposing height of over six-feet-five inches, his presence commanding attention the moment he enters a room. His broad shoulders and muscular body scream strength and power.

His face is striking, marked by chiseled features that could easily belong to a classic Roman god. High cheekbones and a strong jawline give him a timeless, rugged handsomeness, enhanced by his well-groomed beard that frames his face perfectly. His beard is dark, matching the rich, deep tone of his hair, which he keeps neatly styled. His skin has a subtle tan, hinting at time spent outdoors, and his overall demeanor is one of calm authority.

But it's his eyes that draw you in the most. Dark and intense, they seem to hold a depth of emotion and wisdom. When he looks at you, it's as if he sees right through to your soul. His gaze can be both penetrating and comforting, capable of conveying a thousand unspoken words.

"Hi," I reply, stepping over the threshold. The warmth of his home envelops me immediately, both in temperature and ambiance. "This place is incredible."

"Well, you haven't seen anything yet," he says, leading me through a spacious hallway that opens up into a wide, open-plan living area. Every detail is meticulously designed, but there's a lived-in feel that makes it feel welcoming instead of sterile.

"Wow," I breathe out, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. "You've really outdone yourself."

He chuckles as his warm chocolate eyes meet mine. "Thanks. It was a lot of work, but it's finally starting to feel like home."

Ryan guides me toward the kitchen, where a marble island takes center stage, surrounded by state-of-the-art appliances. There's a bottle of wine and two glasses waiting.

"Would you like a drink?" he asks, already reaching for the bottle of my favorite red wine.

"Absolutely. Good taste," I say, slipping onto one of the barstools by the island and handing him the bottle I brought. I can't believe how well my plan is working. "This place... It's like something out of a magazine."

He pours the wine and hands me a glass. "It's been a project, that's for sure. But I wanted it to be a sanctuary, you know? Somewhere to escape from the craziness of work."

"I can see that," I say, taking a sip. The wine is rich and smooth, and I savor its taste for a moment. "Tell me about your life after escaping from New York." I intended to tease him, but the hurt is evident in my tone.

He leans against the counter, glass in hand, and sighs. "Where to begin? After college, I started my consulting firm and it was a rough start—long hours and lots of trial and error. But eventually, I found my footing. Getting this place was a way to reward myself for those grueling first years."

When Lorenzo told me about Ryan working a second job, I wondered why he would need to do that. Now my curiosity is getting the best of me. "And the bouncer job?" I ask, curious to hear more about that surprising twist. "Lorenzo told me you have a second job." According to my brother, Ryan is raking in the dough hand-over-fist, so there's no reason for him to work a second job.

Ryan laughs, the sound genuine and warm. "That was kind of a crazy decision. I wanted something different to balance out my work life. Something physical, you know. Keeps things interesting."

I giggle at the thought. "I can picture it now—Ryan: businessman by day and burly bouncer by night."

"Hey, it's a fun side gig. Keeps me on my toes." He shrugs nonchalantly. "And I'm actually a security specialist, not a bouncer. I'll take you to the Sterling Rope sometime to check it out."

"The Sterling Rope?" It's a crazy name for a bar. I investigated this town when Ryan moved here, and I never came across The Sterling Rope.

Something undefinable enters his gaze as he stares at me silently. He rubs his bottom lip for a few moments before admitting, "It's a BDSM club, kitten." Oh my. I feel my eyes widen as my mouth falls open before I'm able to control my reaction to his news. "A very private club. I'll show it to you sometime." My lady parts wake up at the heat shining from his dark brown eyes, and I almost forget he used the silly nickname he gave me years ago.

"I don't think ‘kitten' really fits me anymore." I glance down at my full figure.

"You'll always be my kitten." He grabs the bottle of wine and refills my suddenly empty glass. I take a huge sip to cool the heat coursing through my body.

"What made you want to work in a BDSM club?" And do you use the club yourself? That thought causes my heart to squeeze.

"A friend of mine works part-time as a security specialist. He caught me at a weak moment, and I agreed to give it a try." Ryan refills his glass. "It gives me something to do."

"Do you use the club?" I can't keep the question to myself anymore.

He shakes his head and stares into my eyes. "I haven't," hunger flashes through his dark eyes as he adds, "yet."

"Oh." I barely resist the urge to fan myself as I drink my wine.

Ryan takes mercy on me and dials the heat down a notch or two. "Enough about me. How have you been?"

I play with the wineglass stem, gathering my thoughts. "Well, I worked two jobs to get through school, but I loved every minute. I graduated top of my class and got a job teaching third grade at Silver Spoon Falls Elementary. Plus, I saved enough money to buy a nice little starter home."

He frowns at me. "I can't believe Lorenzo and your uncle let you work two jobs to get by."

"I didn't give them a choice." I had no idea Lorenzo never discussed the situation with Ryan. "I wanted to do it on my own."

"I bet that went over like a fart in church." He chuckles as I roll my eyes at his silly analogy.

"Pretty much." I smile back and shrug. "It was harder to convince Uncle Leon. Lorenzo stopped trying to tell me what to do years ago."

"He might act like he's letting you do what you want, but I'm betting he's still trying to run the show," Ryan tells me unnecessarily.

"By the time I was six, I knew how to make Lorenzo do what I wanted," I admit, giving away one of my biggest secrets.

"You are something else, kitten."

We fall into an easy rhythm, sharing stories of our respective struggles and triumphs over the last few years. The ambiance of his home, combined with the wine and the crackling fireplace, makes this evening feel almost surreal. It's as if the years apart evaporate, leaving us with the connection we always had. Now, I just have to hope he's feeling the same way I do.

It's getting hard to keep my eyes open, and I realize it's time to call it a night before I'm tempted to jump Ryan's bones. "Thank you for tonight, Ryan," I say softly, looking around his stunning home once more. "It's been really nice catching up."

He walks me out to my car and opens the door for me. "The pleasure was all mine, Michela. I'm going to follow you back to Silver Spoon Falls." I open my mouth to argue, but he places his finger across my lips. "I'm not letting you drive back to town after dark alone."

"Careful, Ryan. Your inner caveman is coming out," I tease and slide into the driver's seat.

"I'll show you my inner caveman." He smirks and leans over to kiss my lips. My mind turns to mush as his warm lips move over mine. I melt back into the seat and lose track of everything around us. He steps back and gives his head a shake. "Now, be a good kitten and drive straight to the apartment."