Page 6 of Erotic Temptations 2

He did not just say that.

“Sounds like a win-win for you. Free groceries and a show.”

“If you want a show, just come to my gym class,” Ryan replied, that lazy grin making my stomach do backflips. “Those kids are wild.”

“What are you teaching these days? Dodgeball still a thing, or has it been banned for public safety?”

“Dodgeball, freeze tag, some kind of yoga I had to Google. Turns out third graders are better at downward dog than I am.”

I pictured Ryan in spandex yoga pants and immediately regretted every decision that had led me to this moment.

Outside, wind smacked us like a cold, wet towel. I nearly dropped the eggs, but Ryan rescued them and me, holding both with one arm. He grinned over the bags, eyes bright.

We settled in, heat on full blast.

He looked over. “So what’s the plan? Saving your mom from kitchen chaos or just hiding in your room with your phone all day?”

I debated. “Honestly? I’d planned to nap and avoid family drama. But I’d settle for not ruining Christmas.”

“Not possible,” Ryan said. “You’re basically the only thing your mom’s excited about this year. Well, you and the actual holiday.”

I snorted. “She’s excited about new ice cube trays. I’m just the runner-up prize.”

He shook his head, eyes still on mine.

The drive home was quick. He swung the truck into my parents’ driveway like he owned the place and helped haul bags up the icy steps. Mom practically swooned when she saw him. IfI’d brought home a Nobel Prize, I doubt she would’ve looked as pleased.

“Ryan! You look wonderful!” she said, taking the bags from him like he was Santa’s secret twin.

He grinned. “Hi, Mrs. Clark. Got your supplies. Alan had me on a tight schedule.”

Mom beamed at me, like I’d discovered penicillin instead of just snagging the last can of baking powder.

Dad poked his head in from the living room, eyebrows raised. “Ryan, you’re a better man than me for surviving the grocery store this close to Christmas.”

Ryan shrugged. “I didn’t mind.”

“Well, it was very sweet of you,” my mom said. “Alan’s lucky to have you as a friend.”

“Thanks, ma’am.”

I wasn’t sure who was smiling wider.

“You two hanging out today?” She glanced between us.

Ryan’s gaze flicked to me.

“Sure,” I said. Because I clearly loved torturing myself.

* * * *

Snow fell off my boots and landed in a sad little clump on Ryan’s welcome mat. The foyer was bigger than I remembered, but maybe nostalgia was a liar. Inside, the air smelled like strong coffee and eucalyptus. The scent clung to the walls, mingling with something warm and toasty wafting from down the hall.

Ryan shrugged out of his jacket, shook it once, and hooked it on a peg beside the door. My own coat landed next to it, a smaller, flimsier thing that instantly regretted its choices. Glancing up at him, I forced my hands into the pockets of my jeans, trying very hard not to stare at the way Ryan’s sweater hugged his shoulders. I was fine. This was fine. I’d just been lured into the lair of the golden retriever next door, thehuman one, and his kitchen was already making me feel wildly underdressed.

His house was all wood floors, mismatched rugs, and a couple of framed sports jerseys on the wall. Not a throw pillow in sight. The living room looked like it had survived a bachelor-apocalypse, but in a clean way. Either he cleaned up for guests, or he was just that rare breed—the tidy single guy.

Ryan caught me taking it all in, lips quirked. “It’s chaos, but it’s home.”