Tide Changer

Six

Rys stared at me, dressed in a sleeveless black shirt and faded blue jeans. I gave him a pathetic little wave, ready to put the cheesecake on the ground and do a runner.

But his lips twitched, and he opened the door wider as if inviting me in.

"Hi," he said. "Are you feeling okay?"

I jerked my head in a yes and extended the cake to him. "I brought you this. It's an apology cheesecake."

He took the box from me. The slight twitch of his mouth became a full-blown grin. "I've never tried an apology cake. Thank you, and come in."

I followed him into the house, giving myself another pep talk so I wouldn't blurt something inappropriate. Unlike my rental, Rys's one-story home had modern, clean-cut furniture and minimalistic decor — mainly framed abstract prints — that belonged on the pages of a design magazine.

"Coffee?" Rys asked, entering the ample kitchen.

"Yes, thank you. So, you bought the house last year."

Rys turned on a state-of-the-art espresso machine and opened the box from the bakery. "This looks amazing. And yes. Last year. How do you like your coffee?"

"With milk, if you have some." I leaned against the kitchen island. "Why Marfolk? You mentioned work, and I... God, I'm nosy."

He grabbed two glass cups from the cupboard and some milk from the fridge. "You're anything but. I work in the hospitality sector."

"Hotels?"

What were the odds? I didn't tell him my last name yet, but if his job involved hotels, he probably knew both my father and Brock's.

"Among other things," Rys said, pouring milk into a small stainless steel pitcher he then placed under the steam wand.

A few minutes later, he gave me a cup of cappuccino with the perfect amount of milk foam on top and a piece of cheesecake on a plate. "Would you like to go outside? It's pleasant in the shade."

"Sure."

The patio Rys mentioned last night was behind the kitchen sliding doors. A laptop and a stack of papers took up the low table next to the loveseat where we sat. Rys scooped up the documents and set them aside.

"Were you working?" I asked.

He brought the cup to his lips. "Yes. I wanted to check on you but figured you'd sleep in."

I curled my hands around my drink. "I'm sorry for last night. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Lyra."

"What?" I said in a voice so low I doubted he'd hear.

"There's not a single thing you should apologize for. If anything, I'm sorry for not realizing something was wrong. Let's try the cake."

It was Rys's polite way to change the topic. Gratitude and relief filled me because I didn't want to revive last night's embarrassment. On the other hand, I did want to know what I told him. Did he know I was in a relationship? Did I tell him about the break?

We finished eating and having coffee in silence. Rys took our empty cups and dishes to the kitchen and sat beside me when he returned. "Thank you for the dessert."

"You're welcome. Can I ask you something?"

Rys rested his arm on the back of the loveseat, edging toward me an inch. "Sure."

"What did I tell you last night? I don't remember much after you appeared in my backyard."

He reached out and moved a loose curl away from my cheek, gently tucking it behind my ear. My skin sparked when he touched it, and heat traveled in a slow wave over my neck when I realized I didn't want him to remove his hand. "Why do I feel you want to know something else but are scared to ask?" he murmured.