Ryder nodded and that’s when she saw the pride in his eyes. He was riding at the forefront of this community project like he was born to do it. Because he was a strong, good man who cared about his community. He was a leader.

“So, have you ever had apple cobbler before?” he asked, holding another spoonful out for her.

Part of her wanted him to go on speaking about the Hall and his love for the city of Diamond. She’d suspected that his need for self-control was about some deep insecurity. And maybe there was a little of that, but she saw, too, that it was born from a deep devotion to the people he loved. He believed they depended on him, and he’d die before he let them down. No wonder he put such pressure on himself to keep control.

She knew that look in his eye, though. He needed a little distance. So she took the cobbler with a smile.

“No, never had it before,” she said. “The group home had mostly boxed meals, and none of my foster parents ever cooked much.”

Ryder stilled.

Whitney went pale. At least, she was pretty sure she did, since she felt the blood drain from her face. She never talked about her life. Her past. Any of it. She’d had her sister to talk to, and that was it. And she was gone now. So there was no reminiscing about her less than stellar childhood required.

Yet she’d just opened up to Ryder like he was her soul mate or something.

“How many foster parents did you have?” he asked.

She shrugged, trying for a flippant demeanor, but Ryder’s gray eyes were penetrating, like he could see right through her.

“Lost count,” she admitted. “But about two a year. Then there were bouts in the group home until another family was selected.”

“That’s why you said you were from everywhere.”

“We stayed near the Boston area.”

“We, as in you and your sister.”

She leaned toward him and licked her lips. He obliged her with another bite of cobbler. It gave her a minute to think. Usually her thoughts would be about how to get out of this conversation, but for some reason, talking to Ryder didn’t feel so bad.

“Yes, we stuck together.”

“I’m glad. So you had a sense of home wherever you went,” he said, and the softness in his voice made that hole in her chest throb. He understood. They were two totally different people from totally different walks of life, and somehow he said the one thing that summed up perfectly her life, her sister, and what Kacey had meant to her.

“Yes. She was like home.” Just saying it crushed her. Yeah, she went from place to place now, no roots, because once she’d lost Kacey, no place had ever felt like home again.

“I’m sorry you lost her.”

He didn’t ask how or why, or go for the gory details. He was calm, allowing her to lead with whatever she wanted to tell. And she appreciated him for that. More than she ever thought she could appreciate anyone.

“So…” She slapped her thighs, hoping for a subject detour. Because, truth was, she wanted to hear about Ryder. He’d opened up to her a little, and she valued that information dearly. It was a glimpse into the man he kept hidden. The man she enjoyed being around. “Word around the BBQ is this Hall you’ve redone is a big hit.” She snagged his hat and put it on her head.

“It’s a landmark for the town. It’s large and old, but with it restored, and by adding the auditorium, there will be an opportunity for some theater projects, plays, and events to be held there. Which is great for the city.”

“And that woman you talk to owns it?”

He looked at her. “Clara Davenport is the daughter of Milton Davenport, the man who owns a lot of property in Kansas.”

“Ah. So she must love that you’re in her building a lot.”

Ryder smiled. “Why, sweetness, if I didn’t know better, it’d sound like you were fishing.”

“Nope,” she said quickly. But crap, was she? She was out of her element here, thanks to this whole not-a-date-but-sort-of-a-date-thing.

“Clara and I went to school together. That’s it. She’s…”

“Persistent?”

“Something like that,” Ryder said. “Where did you go to school?”

She frowned. “What kind of question is that?”

“One I’m interested in. I didn’t know, with you having to move so much, if you got to stay at the same school.”

“For the most part we stayed in the same district. But our housing situation changed a lot. So it’s all a blur.”

“Making friends must have been hard.”

She looked at the silvery pools of his eyes, eating her up. Ryder and Penny were close. They had the same friends now that they’d had when they were young. And they were all close. That kind of family was something Whitney had always thought to be a myth. But the town of Diamond embodied the word “family.” If they took you in, you belonged for life, no matter who you were or where you came from.

Pain welled up in her chest. This was why she didn’t do the whole “talking and getting to know people” part of dating.

Ryder held out another spoonful of cobbler, and she took it, glad for the distraction. Chewing slightly was calming, and so was the food. So was Ryder’s presence, actually. He looked at her and waited with what seemed like infinite calm and control. And for the first time, she felt the urge to talk about her sister.

“Kacey was all I had,” she said. “She was really sweet, always setting goals and looking on the bright side. She took joy in every damn thing in life.”

Ryder nodded, listening intently.

“She died last year. Car accident. I was with her.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetness.” His low tone made her heart swell. He was there, not pushing, not asking, just letting her talk. Letting her be who she was. He wasn’t reaching out to rub her arm like she was some broken, pitiful thing. He simply held out another spoonful of dessert, and she took the bite.

“I miss her. I try to live the way she did. Moving. Experiencing everything I can.”

“Smart.”

She frowned. “You think so?”

“You do what you want, when you want. Always moving, no one to answer to. You live for yourself and for your sister. I can see the appeal of that. Heck, in some ways, I envy you.”

“But sooner or later, won’t it catch up to me?” she asked, not because she meant it but because she’d heard it so many times she couldn’t stand to hear it again.

“No,” Ryder said with seriousness. “I don’t think anything can catch up to you, sweetness. You’re a special kind of wild.” She smiled, and heat spread from her mouth to her stomach. “But sooner or later, you may want to be caught. For real.”

Was he serious? He couldn’t be talking about himself…could he? He couldn’t honestly be thinking that she’d stay… Or could he? And if he was serious, could she stay? Would she want to?

No, surely not. There was a reason she lived in the moment and never stayed in any place or with any one person for too long. And as far as staying here with Ryder, hadn’t he just said it himself? Their very natures were on opposite ends of the spectrum. As much as she yearned for roots, she was wild at heart. And as much as he yearned to be wild, he was rooted in Diamond with all the self-control he could summon.

“I’ll never want to be caught for real,” she whispered. It was too permanent. There was too much life to live. Too many memories to outrun.

Ryder set the bowl on the bedside table. “Then I pity the person who tries to catch you.”

Her chest stung on his admission, and she didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to think, because he was taking up too much room in her mind and her heart. She needed to get back to her plan. This was supposed to be casual, right? No dates. No romance. None of the heavy emotions he was pulling out of her.

Which meant it was time to poke Ryder until that alpha side of his took over.

“You came in tonight and said you thought of tasting me?”

He nodded.