Read Online Dylan (Bachelors of the Ridge #1) by Karla Sorensen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Karla Sorensen
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said as I scooped him up under my arm. He wiggled in my grasp, but I could feel his tail thumping against my side, so I figured it was just excitement. When I pulled the front door open, Kat stood framed under the circle of light from the fixture next to the door, her brown eyes wide in her face. Clutched against her chest was a giant—and I meant giant —white, plastic bowl. The top was wrapped in aluminum foil, which crinkled when she shifted her grip.
“I made potato salad,” she blurted out, blinking rapidly at me, but not walking through the door. “I’ve never made it before, and maybe you guys don’t even like it. Not everyone likes mustard, you know. Or potatoes. And we don’t even need to eat it. You know what? I can just leave it in my car.”
She turned to march back to her car, but I snagged her elbow and gently pulled her into the house. “Kat,” I said when she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Thank you. I’m sure it’s delicious.”
“It’s probably not.” Her eyes were still firmly trained on the bowl while she set it on the kitchen counter. I swallowed a laugh. Her nerves were like a physical presence separating us from the rest of the group. But there was something so endearing about it, and about the way that she’d obviously dressed up to hang out with us. Her skirt was a blinding orange, cut short and fit tightly around her slim hips. Her tank top was zebra print, and matched the strappy black and white sandals that wrapped up her shins. She must have done her hair too, because the messy strands looked a bit more uniform, held back by a bright pink headband.
“You look very nice,” I said carefully, as I typically made it a habit to not compliment the appearance of women who worked for me. But I couldn’t help it. She looked like a fluorescent highlighter, bright and blindingly fun in the masculine space of Garrett’s house. Her face whipped up to me, a lop-sided smile of gratitude spreading over her face.
“I’ve never been to a guys’ night.” She shrugged, finally looking more at ease. “It was either this or my Broncos jersey and yoga pants. I decided to embrace my role as the lone feminine presence.”
Then she looked around the counter, saw the lack of any real food beyond what she’d brought along. Her face flushed and she blinked away from me again. So I shoved Leonidas at her, and the distraction worked. She cooed and cuddled him, laughing delightedly when he tried to climb up her shoulder to sniff at her headband.
Garrett ambled into the kitchen and ruffled Kat’s hair. “Hey, Sprite. How’s it hangin’?”
Kat narrowed her eyes, shifting Leonidas in her arms. “I’m not positive how to answer you. Don’t men ask that question in regards to their penis?”
I choked on the sip of beer I’d just swallowed and Garrett froze, staring down at her with a mixture of horror and amusement. “Yes we do, Kat. And the fact that you just said that out loud means you are welcome at guys’ night for the rest of your life .”
She beamed up at him, the wide smile taking over her face so completely that her eyes crinkled around the edges. While Garrett loaded up a plate of her potato salad, the rest of the guys wandered in. I introduced her to Tristan, Michael and Cole, who all gushed appropriately at the amount of food she’d brought. From where I was leaning up against the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen, I watched her cheeks pink up with pleasure and her body language relax as she chatted with them.
Her comfort was making me feel better, like I’d accomplished something. But I still didn’t think that made Garrett right, that I was trying to ‘fix’ Kat because I had more time on my hands. Even if he wasn’t right though, his voice still niggled at the back of my mind.
“So, Kat,” Michael said during a lull in conversation, “are you originally from Denver?”
She hadn’t answered all my questions the other night when we were at PetSmart, so I
“I made potato salad,” she blurted out, blinking rapidly at me, but not walking through the door. “I’ve never made it before, and maybe you guys don’t even like it. Not everyone likes mustard, you know. Or potatoes. And we don’t even need to eat it. You know what? I can just leave it in my car.”
She turned to march back to her car, but I snagged her elbow and gently pulled her into the house. “Kat,” I said when she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Thank you. I’m sure it’s delicious.”
“It’s probably not.” Her eyes were still firmly trained on the bowl while she set it on the kitchen counter. I swallowed a laugh. Her nerves were like a physical presence separating us from the rest of the group. But there was something so endearing about it, and about the way that she’d obviously dressed up to hang out with us. Her skirt was a blinding orange, cut short and fit tightly around her slim hips. Her tank top was zebra print, and matched the strappy black and white sandals that wrapped up her shins. She must have done her hair too, because the messy strands looked a bit more uniform, held back by a bright pink headband.
“You look very nice,” I said carefully, as I typically made it a habit to not compliment the appearance of women who worked for me. But I couldn’t help it. She looked like a fluorescent highlighter, bright and blindingly fun in the masculine space of Garrett’s house. Her face whipped up to me, a lop-sided smile of gratitude spreading over her face.
“I’ve never been to a guys’ night.” She shrugged, finally looking more at ease. “It was either this or my Broncos jersey and yoga pants. I decided to embrace my role as the lone feminine presence.”
Then she looked around the counter, saw the lack of any real food beyond what she’d brought along. Her face flushed and she blinked away from me again. So I shoved Leonidas at her, and the distraction worked. She cooed and cuddled him, laughing delightedly when he tried to climb up her shoulder to sniff at her headband.
Garrett ambled into the kitchen and ruffled Kat’s hair. “Hey, Sprite. How’s it hangin’?”
Kat narrowed her eyes, shifting Leonidas in her arms. “I’m not positive how to answer you. Don’t men ask that question in regards to their penis?”
I choked on the sip of beer I’d just swallowed and Garrett froze, staring down at her with a mixture of horror and amusement. “Yes we do, Kat. And the fact that you just said that out loud means you are welcome at guys’ night for the rest of your life .”
She beamed up at him, the wide smile taking over her face so completely that her eyes crinkled around the edges. While Garrett loaded up a plate of her potato salad, the rest of the guys wandered in. I introduced her to Tristan, Michael and Cole, who all gushed appropriately at the amount of food she’d brought. From where I was leaning up against the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen, I watched her cheeks pink up with pleasure and her body language relax as she chatted with them.
Her comfort was making me feel better, like I’d accomplished something. But I still didn’t think that made Garrett right, that I was trying to ‘fix’ Kat because I had more time on my hands. Even if he wasn’t right though, his voice still niggled at the back of my mind.
“So, Kat,” Michael said during a lull in conversation, “are you originally from Denver?”
She hadn’t answered all my questions the other night when we were at PetSmart, so I
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