One minute you're at the top of your game, and the next, you receive a hit that knocks your skates out from underneath you.
Still reeling after an unexpected loss, Ryan Nyberg not only finds himself back in his beachside hometown of Neptune Bay, bu...
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"What time is it?" Bowen asked.
Stirring my homemade meatballs and tomato sauce as I waited for the pasta water to boil, I spared a glance over my shoulder and saw him swinging his legs impatiently as he watched the clock. "Twenty after six," I chuckled, "which means Sloane should be here in about ten minutes."
"But that's so far away," he groaned impatiently. "Do you think there will be time for me to show her my kitchen set before we eat dinner? She likes to bake, so I think she'll like it."
I suppressed a grin at how adorable he sounded, wondering if he had a little crush brewing. He'd certainly been playing with the plastic kitchen playset his parents had got him two years ago more over the last couple of days than he normally did. He'd also been buzzing with energy all afternoon after Sloane had accepted his dinner invitation.
Though if he did, I couldn't really blame him. She seemed to grab the attention of Nybergs without trying.
"There should be time," I replied, "but if there's not, you can always show it to her once we're done eating. She's not just going to eat and leave."
"Okay."
Two minutes later, I covered the saucepan to let the contents simmer, dumped a healthy portion of spaghetti into the boiling pot, and just when I started to clean the counter up a bit, the doorbell sounded.
"She's here!" Bowen exclaimed excitedly, jumping off his chair so fast that he nearly toppled to the ground face first.
I was there to catch him though. "Careful," I said as I righted him back onto two feet. "Why don't you go bring Scout in from the yard and I'll answer the door?"
His bottom lip jutted out in disappointment, but he didn't try to argue as he took off quickly toward the back door.
I, on the other hand, moved towards the front door and with each step I took, felt a clamminess rouse on my palms. Wiping my hands on my jeans, I opened the door to see Sloane standing there, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. For a split second, I thought I saw a hint of stress in her expression, but it was gone before I could fully place it, replaced by an at-ease expression that had her brown eyes shining and perfectly pink lips quirking upward.
Enthralled, I couldn't help but take in the rest of her. Her long black hair was no longer in the signature ponytail she wore for work, instead cascading past her shoulders in big, bouncy waves that showed off the purple streaks she rocked. She'd also changed out of her work clothes and now wore a cropped denim jacket over an off-white, flowy dress that stopped right above her knee. To me, she looked just as good in this moment as she had earlier today while working, though I did have to admit, I was a massive fan of the way her dress's neckline swooped low, showing off her magnificent cleavage.
I knew for sure I hadn't been the most discreet as I lifted my gaze back to hers and noticed the pink flush that now coated her cheeks. "Hey," I greeted, finally letting my gaze drift past her to see there was no extra car in the driveway. A crease of confusion formed on my forehead. "Did you walk here?"
