Taming Ryder

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I find myself, once again, eating my troubles away in the parking lot of Happy Burger. Piti sits next to me, watching in amazement as I scarf handfuls of fries down at a time.

"You have a really big mouth."

I shoot her a glare, but continue chewing. I can't think of a good comeback, so I just flip her the bird.

She shrugs. "Sorry, but it's true. I've never seen anyone that could fit thirty fries in their mouth at once."

"I'm having a crisis here!" I say through a mouth full of food. "You're supposed to be supportive, Piti."

"Oh, don't you go questioning my loyalty, girl. I have to sit here and watch you eat like a starving dog, I'm doing my job as your best friend."

I wipe my mouth on the sleeve of my sweatshirt and stuff all of my trash into the Happy Burger bag. "I feel sick now."

"That's because you consumed your body weight in processed meat."

"It's a f*****g hot dog, Piti, stop referring to it as processed meat."

"Well, it is. Do you have any idea what's in a hot dog? It's all of the left over parts that are grinded down into-"

"Okay, okay! That's enough!" I shout, putting my hands over my ears. "I really hate you sometimes."

"You love me," Piti replies with a smirk as she backs out of her parking space and drives away.

Since I quit my job and now have no source of income, I've decided to move in with Piti temporarily. She's still hoping I'll take Jack's offer and go back to my old job, but there's no way in hell I'll ever do that. Instead, I've been using Piti's car while she's working to job search. I must've given my resume out to fifty different companies, but so far, no luck.

I'm running out of money, still have no car and if I don't get a job soon, I'll have to do the unthinkable; ask my dad for help. I'll go back to Jack, drop to my knees and beg for my job back before I'll ever ask Ronald Ramsey for help.

While Piti stops for gas, I decide to go inside the gas station and buy a pack of cigarettes. I don't normally smoke, but I'm looking for anything to help me relieve some of the stress. After I pay the cashier, I tuck them in my back pocket and exit the store.

"Smoking is bad for you, you know."

I stop in my tracks and my heartbeat starts to speed up. It's been about two weeks since I've heard his voice, but I'll never forget it. I turn around to see his smirking face.

"I'm sorry about what happened with your boyfriend," he says, taking a step closer to me.

My eyes catch his and I gulp, taking a step back. I'd forgotten about that night and how violent Ryder had gotten. There's something about him that makes me feel uneasy, yet intrigued at the same time. I blink a couple of times to regroup and quickly look away. "Yeah, he's actually my ex-boyfriend, but you did get kind of crazy."

My eyes meet his again and as if he can sense that I'm afraid of him, he backs away from me. "I'm not the monster you think I am."

"You sure could've fooled me," I say quickly.

He sighs and rakes his hand through his messy, brown hair. "Look, I'm sorry things got out of hand, but the guy pushed you. And...I just lost it."

Somehow in the midst of everything that's happened to me since that night, I totally forgot that Nick pushed me down. How could I forget something like that?

"I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. I don't even know you, how could I think you're a monster? It's just...you really beat the s**t out of him," I say.

"I try to avoid physical confrontation these days, but my dad raised me to never lay a hand on a woman. I expect everyone else to live by that rule as well or...catch these hands," he chuckles, holding his hands up.

I laugh along with him, getting caught up in his amazing smile and adorable dimples. While there's definitely something about him that seems almost dangerous, I can't help the way my heart pounds every time he comes around. If he is following me, or if he has some kind of evil intentions, my body clearly isn't getting the memo.

"Well, my friend is waiting for me," I say, throwing my thumb over my shoulder in Piti's direction, "I better get going. I'll see you around, Ryder."

"Wow, you remembered my name."

"I did," I smirk.

"You never told me yours."

I flash him a flirty smile, which he returns. "Courtney."

As I walk back to the car, Piti's eyes are glued to my face and I know I'm about to be bombarded with a million questions. I've been talking about this mysterious tattooed guy a lot over the past couple of weeks, but Piti has never actually seen him.

I get into the car and put on my seat belt. Piti is still watching me expectantly, but I intentionally leave her hanging.

"Hello? Are you really going to just pretend like that didn't happen?"

I shrug. "What are you talking about?"

She blows out a frustrated breath. "You know damn well...you know what? Never mind." She drops it, but she mumbles under her breath like she always does when she's frustrated with me.

I look over at her and smile. "Nothing happened, Piti, so there's nothing to talk about."

She glares at me before turning her attention back to the road. "Nothing, huh? You've been my best friend for more than two years. I know when you like someone, okay?"

"Like someone? I don't like him. I told you, he's not my-"

"Not your type, I know. But have you ever considered that your type is jerk? Nick was a jerk, that guy Austin you dated was a jerk...they're all the same. Maybe it's time you change your type up a bit."

She's not wrong about my type being jerk. I have always attracted the rich, arrogant guys whose only interests are in themselves. Ryder doesn't seem at all like one of those types. Not that I know enough about him to know exactly what type he is.

"He's attractive in a s****l fantasy about a bad boy kind of way, but as a boyfriend? Not a chance," I say, thinking out loud.

"I think you should give him a chance. I'm telling you, fate wants the two of you together or you wouldn't keep running into him like you do!" Piti says excitedly.

"Maybe I'm not running into him. Maybe he's a serial killer and he's following me."

"Girl, shut up. If he were a serial killer, you'd be dead by now."

Days go by and I haven't received the first phone call about a job. I'm starting to lose hope and I'm dreading what my options are if no one calls; Jack or my dad. I can't admit defeat just yet. Instead, I'm going to do something I should've done a long time ago.

I dress up a little more than usual, putting a little extra time into my hair and makeup. I put on a pair of fitted black jeans and a simple white tunic. I take Piti's car into the city since she's working today. I've been specifically looking for jobs in graphic design, but I haven't explored other options yet. I'm also a skilled photographer, painter and sculptor. I've never looked into artistic jobs before because my dad always insisted that they were a waste of time. But at this point, what have I got to lose?

After aimlessly wandering around downtown for a while, I start to get hungry. There isn't anything nearby but a coffee shop and a bakery, so siding with my sweet tooth, I decide to go with the bakery.

When I walk in the front door, I'm hit with the most delicious mixture of scents; gingerbread, cinnamon, and my personal favorite, buttercream frosting. I walk around the glass counter and practically drool over the danishes. I haven't had one of those in ages.

"You should definitely go with the danishes."

"Ryder?"

He smirks at me and leans over the counter, resting his muscular, tattooed arms on the glass top right above the danishes. "Small world, huh?"

I try to keep my eyes on his face rather than his body. "You don't seem like the type of guy that would work in a bakery."

"And what type of guy do I seem like, since you seem to know me so well?" he asks with a grin, putting those adorable dimples on full display.

My cheeks blush in embarrassment, but I quickly recover. "Well, I don't know yet."

His smirk grows even wider. "Well, for starters, I don't just work here," he says, taking out a danish and placing it into a small, yellow box. "I actually own this place."

My eyes widen in surprise. "Really? So, did you make these danishes, too?

He nods proudly. "I made everything in here." He slides the danish over the counter and smiles. "Try it and let me know what you think."

I pick the box up and pull out the warm, gooey danish. I take a small bite and moan in delight. "Wow, this is amazing."

He smiles victoriously. "I know."

I set the box back down on the counter and smile sheepishly. "I feel like such a jackass now. All this time, I thought you were some kind of deranged stalker."

He shrugs, but his smile starts to fade. "I'm used to it."

An awkward silence passes between us before he straightens up and wipes his hands on the towel that's tucked in his apron strings. "So, are you here to buy something or are you just stalking me?"

I chuckle at him using my own words against me. I guess I deserve it after being a presumptuous b***h since the day I met him.  "I'm actually out looking for a job."

"A job? I thought you had one."

"I quit a couple of weeks ago," I sigh, "I just couldn't deal with my pain in the ass boss anymore."

"Any chance you're good at decorating cakes?" Ryder asks, walking through a door that I'm assuming leads to the kitchen and emerging seconds later with a tray of the most delicious looking brownies I've ever seen. "I don't offer specialty cakes because I'm not the best at decorating them. Unfortunately, my sister got all of the creative genes."

"Well, I've never really tried before, but I don't know. Maybe?"

Ryder nods in the direction of the kitchen. "Follow me."

I have to admit, I'm a little apprehensive at first, but I follow him anyway. The kitchen is a mess, with pots and pans, flour and sugar everywhere. He pulls a cake from the refrigerator and sets it down on the counter. He takes a box filled with tubes of frosting out of the cabinet and sets it down next to the cake.

"If you want to try your hand at this, be my guest. I had to take wedding cakes off the menu since I suck at them. Unfortunately, that's kind of a cash cow. It would be great to hire someone with some actual artistic talent that could get them back on the menu for me."

He grins and tosses a tube of frosting to me. I catch it and bite my lip, feeling giddy all of a sudden. "So are you telling me that you'll hire me if I make this cake look good?"

His eyes turn a bit more serious, but he never loses that amazing smile. "I would be thrilled if you could make this cake look good," he says, looking down and biting his lip. "But..." he looks back up at me and a wave of butterflies rush through my stomach. "If you want a job, Courtney, you got it. Even if the cake looks like shit."

My heart pounds at the thought of seeing Ryder every day. While I'm still apprehensive of him, I can't deny that he makes me feel things I've never felt before.

And I like it.