Roughing It With Ryan Read Online Free

man, they’d stop trying to set him up on disastrous blind dates. So far the plan had worked like a charm. “No hot date,” he murmured. No class. Just his bed. Alone.
    Heaven.
    And it was that. So much so that when he finally crawled under his sheets, practically whimpering with gratitude, he was out before his head hit the pillow.
    And stayed out until he woke with a jerk when the phone rang at one o’clock in the damn morning.
    Sorely tempted to ignore it, he stared at the offending receiver. Sleep was trying to tug him back under, but it could be Russ or Rafe, in some sort of trouble.Or worse, Angel, in need of his help. “Better be good,” he said in lieu of a greeting.
    â€œRyan?”
    Not Russ, not Rafe. Not Angel.
    â€œRyan, it’s Taylor Wellington.”
    And not the police or hospital, thank you God, just Taylor, the woman with the nightmare oak trees.
    He’d been surprised, and quite honestly disappointed, when she hadn’t seen the urgency of her own situation. After all, she’d called him, greeted him in an outfit that cost more than his truck, then turned her nose up at his price to take down the trees, which had been damn reasonable, if he said so himself.
    â€œTaylor…is everything all right?”
    â€œNo. Remember that tree you warned me about?”
    â€œWhich one?”
    â€œAll of them, but most importantly the one on the east side of the building. It just fell on my roof and through the loft apartment’s bedroom. I really need you to clear it. Now.”
    That particular tree had been at least one hundred years old, massive and severely damaged from the last few Santa Ana winds. The sheer size of the thing had worried Ryan, with good reason apparently. “At least the apartment is empty.”
    â€œ Was empty. Tonight it has my new roommate in it,Suzanne, the woman you saw me interviewing today.”
    The image of Suzanne flashed through Ryan’s mind—long, wavy, dark-red hair, a lush, generously curved body beneath a flowing sundress. Crystals hanging from her ears, and the biggest, greenest, most expressive eyes he’d ever seen.
    There’d been awareness in those eyes, an awareness he might have been interested in, if his life could handle one more interest. Now dread filled him. “Is she—”
    â€œShe’s okay, but the way the tree fell, it’s blocking her way out.”
    â€œI’m on my way,” he promised and hung up the phone, only to immediately lift it again to wake up his crew, made up of Rafe and Russ, his two younger, very groggy twin brothers. At least they’d been in their apartment, alone and available, he thought with relief, racing for his truck. Old habits were hard to break, which meant he still felt like mom, dad, boss and older brother all at the same time—too many hats for any one person.
    He lost five minutes stopping at his office, but if he was going to be pulling a tree off a building, he needed the big rig from the yard there.
    As he switched trucks, rain slashed through hisclothes, aided by a vicious wind that wouldn’t help him tonight.
    She’s okay, Taylor had said, but the devastating possibilities made him go as fast as he dared. South Village was deserted, unusual for the trendy streets, even at this hour. The storm had sent everyone scampering home.
    When he finally pulled up in front of the building, his stomach tightened. The huge old oak had indeed hit the roof. And as Taylor had said, just the far east corner, which was both good and bad. Good, because the main structure and all three floors were intact. Bad, because the crash impacted the loft apartment, specifically the bedroom, where according to Taylor, Suzanne was at this very moment. The window was gone, blown out, as well as the entire left half of the front wall, where the tree protruded obscenely.
    Ryan squinted past the downpour and squeezed the arm of a worried Taylor, who stood on