Page 11 of The Heartbreaker

Of course I hadn’t worn this. I’d changed after I arrived.

I didn’t know what I was thinking. He somehow got my brain all twisted around—and I wasn’t thinking.

“All I have with me are workout clothes. Yoga pants. A tank top. A zip-up sweatshirt?—”

“Since I’m assuming you don’t want to come back to my place—even though I make one hell of a mac and cheese”—he laughed—“we can go to this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that’s not far from here. They have the best ramen I’ve ever had in my life.”

My eyes bugged, my mouth hanging open for several seconds before I voiced, “Did you just say ramen?”

“I did.”

Out of all the food choices, he had gone with one of my favorites and just what I was craving.

How did he know?

Was he somehow inside my head?

“Sigh,” I drew out. “It’s impossible for me to turn down a good bowl of ramen.”

“It’s like I read your mind …”

The only things missing were the sweatpants, although yoga pants were just as cozy, and the messy knot—I’d opted to leave my hair down even though it reeked of the strip club. There was so much perfume sprayed in the back room where we all got ready that when I left each shift, I smelled like I worked at a scent shop. Everything else—the company, the ramen, the iced green tea—was beyond perfect.

Maybe too perfect.

Which was why I hadn’t kept my eyes off Ridge, stealing glances at him at every red light while I’d driven us to the restaurant and the whole time we’d been here.

Where were this man’s flaws?

What was off about him? Because something had to be off. He couldn’t be this fabulous …could he?

“My daughter loves it here,” he told me, twirling some sun noodles around his chopsticks. “We come almost every Sunday. We’ve tried different ramen places around town, but this is her favorite.”

“She has good taste. The ramen is incredible.” I savored the soft-boiled egg, my eyes closing as I chewed. “I’d want to come here every Sunday too.”

He smiled, running his thumb across his lips.

Why was that simple movement—that pure, innocent swipe—so sexy?

“That’s our day-date day—that’s what she calls it. We go to the park, we come here for lunch, and then we go to the horse barn.”

I recrossed my legs, my knee briefly grazing his. “She rides?”

“She recently got into it. Little did I know, when she first started, it would take up so much time. Gymnastics was a few hours a week—tops. Swimming was the same. But my little one doesn’t want to just ride, she wants to help bathe the horses and brush them and feed them, and we end up being there until dinner.” His finger stilled by the corner of his mouth. “Daddy, they need my tender touch, or they can’t do their horsey-riding things, she tells me.” He shook his head, smiling. “How can I say no to that? She has a soft spot for animals, and I have a soft spot for her cuteness.”

As though my heart hadn’t already been pounding, it was now on the verge of exploding. Not just from the voice he used when he imitated her, but his whole demeanor.

“I don’t mean to talk about her.” His hand touched my arm, the warmth of his skin almost a shock compared to how cool it was in the restaurant. However, it wasn’t the temperature that sent vibrations through me. “I know it must be boring to hear about someone else’s kid.”

I knew he’d made a statement that I needed to respond to. I just couldn’t yet.

There was something besides words that was taking over my body.

A feeling that had come out of nowhere.

It started in the spot that he’d held for only a second and traveled.

To my chest.