With that in mind, she threw open the front door. Kyle stood there—more dressed up than she’d expected and looking strikingly attractive in his tailored gray pants and crisp blue shirt.
With an appreciative gleam in his eyes, he took in her cream peasant top and jeans. “So you do own pants.”
Rylann opened her mouth, ready to give him the speech about not complicating things, no matter how great the sexcapades had been—when he held up his hand, cutting her off at the pass.
“Before you get rolling with the lecture, or start heading for the hills again, you should know that this is a no-strings-attached visit. I have something for you.” He held up a silver wine gift bag that flashed with so many sparkles and sequins it nearly blinded her.
Rylann pulled back in surprise. “Oh. Wow.” She hadn’t been expecting him to come bearing gifts. Especially one so bedazzled.
He shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. “The bag didn’t look quite as shiny in the store.”
Whatever this was, he looked adorably nervous about it. Rylann held out her hand. “Let me see.” Intrigued, she took the bag from him, pulled out the wine bottle, and read the label.
India Ink.
“It’s one of my favorites. You remembered that,” she said, staring at the label. “Thank you.”
He made a big show of trying to look nonchalant. “It’s no big deal. Jordan had a couple bottles sitting out, so I grabbed one.”
Rylann leaned against the doorway. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Kyle, because I really love the wine. But what’s the catch?”
“No catch.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, I just thought we could…hang out and talk.”
He looked as shocked by the suggestion as she was.
“Talk?” Rylann stared at him. “Are you feeling okay? You’re being very…not you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked indignantly. “That I can’t hang out with a girl without sex being on the table?”
Good question. “I don’t know. Have you ever hung out with a girl without sex being on the table?”
He immediately scoffed at that. “Of course.”
“Not including high school.”
His busted look said it all.
Rylann smiled. “You might want to plead the Fifth to avoid self-incrimination.”
Kyle looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “I swear—no more law geeks. Ever. From now on, I’m sticking with simple, easygoing girls whose goals in life do not seemingly include driving me insane.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Look, here’s the deal: today was a good day for me. And strangely enough, you, Rylann Pierce, are the first person I wanted to tell about it.” He held out his hands in exasperation. “Do with that what you will.”
Later, Rylann could tell herself that she’d simply been sucked in by the wine-bottle gesture and how cute Kyle was when he got worked up and pissed off at her like this. But if she was being honest with herself, she’d have to admit that the fact that he’d wanted to tell her about his day had kind of melted her rational, pragmatic, noncrazy heart a teeny, tiny little bit.
So without saying a word, she took a step back, making room for him to come inside. With a victorious grin, Kyle followed her, standing close as she shut the door behind him.
Rylann pointed. “Remember—hands to yourself.”
“Of course, counselor.” He winked. “Unless you say otherwise.”
SINCE THE TEMPERATURE was in the low seventies and the night sky was clear, Rylann suggested sitting outside on the deck located off the back of her third-story apartment. She set the open bottle of India Ink between them, on top of the wooden bistro table she had purchased the previous weekend. She’d also picked up a few planters and some flowers, transforming the deck into an urban minigarden.
“I like it out here,” Kyle said, sitting back in his chair with his glass of wine. “That’s the one downside of my apartment—no outdoor living space. Trust me, you notice that quickly when serving home detention for two straight weeks.”
“I’ve seen the penthouse, Dimples. I’m not exactly crying a river.”
“More tough love from Prosecutrix Pierce,” he said. “Shocking.”
Rylann laughed. ” ‘Prosecutrix Pierce’? Is that what you call me?”
“I find it has a certain authoritative ring that suits you.” Kyle caught her checking him out. “What?”
She gestured to his shirt and pants. “What’s with the business-casual attire? I’m on pins and needles, waiting to hear about this good day you’ve been having.”
“I had two job interviews earlier today.”
Rylann raised her glass to his, thrilled for him. “Congratulations. That’s really great, Kyle. How do you think the interviews went?”
“Very well. I hired both guys.”
Rylann cocked her head, confused. “Wait—you hired them?”
He took another sip of his wine, looking pleased with himself. “Weren’t expecting that, were you?”
“No. But now I’m really intrigued.” Rylann studied him curiously. “What are you up to?”
So he told her. As they sat there drinking wine, Kyle told her all about the consulting business he planned to start. Granted, she understood about half of what he was saying, the other half being coded in computer-speak and tech terms, but it didn’t matter. He was clearly passionate about the subject and extremely driven, and that made the entire conversation absolutely fascinating.