Tomorrow, she promised herself. She’d focus on personal business, including driving over to Ryder’s. That was probably better anyway. No chance of interruptions, problems, no ghost who might decide to play games.

Just the two of them. She glanced down to where D.A. snoozed on the floor.

Well, the three of them.

She got two glasses from the cupboard, was about to pour her own when she heard feet on the stairs.

Naturally, she thought, and put the glass down again.

Chip Barrow’s sandy hair stood up in mad spikes. Along with his tattered jeans he wore the faded Foo Fighters T-shirt he’d worn for check-in. Only now he wore it inside out. She doubted he realized it.

He gave her a sleepy, sex-drugged smile she envied bitterly.

“Hey.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry to bother you.”

“You’re not. What can I do for you?”

“Me and Marlie were wondering about maybe some dinner. Like I could get takeout so we could just . . .”

“Couldn’t be easier.” Though there would be one in their room packet, Hope opened a drawer for Vesta’s menu. “They’re right across the street, and they’ll deliver if you like.”

“Really? Awesome. Pizza’s like just right. It’s good, right?”

“It’s very good. I’d be happy to call the order in for you when you decide.”

“I know what Marlie likes.” His face shone as he said it. “We could do a large, with pepperoni and black olives. And some of this dessert here. This Chocolate Decadence. Sounds awesome, too.”

“I can tell you it is.”

“Um. Can they maybe bring it up to the room? Just like knock on the door?”

“No problem. Would you like a complimentary bottle of wine?”

“Seriously? Yeah, that’s great.”

“Red or white?”

“Um, why don’t you pick? Ah, could we get a couple of Cokes, too?”

“Give me one minute.”

She got a tray, an ice bucket, screwed two Cokes into the bed of ice. Added the wine she’d opened for herself, the two glasses.

“This is so cool. Marlie’s blown away by the room. We even turned on the fireplace. It got pretty warm, so we opened the windows, but it’s, you know, romantic with the fire going.”

She bit down on the inside of her cheek. “I’m sure it is. I’ll—Oh, Ryder. This is Chip.”

“Hey,” Chip said.

“How’s it going?”

“Awesome.”

“Would you like me to take that up for you?” Hope offered.

“No, thanks. I got it. And you’ll order the pizza and stuff?”

“Right away. Give it about twenty minutes.”

“Cool. Marlie’s going to dig on the wine. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

As he carted the tray out, Hope pressed her lips together to hold back the laugh. “Awesome,” she murmured.

“What is he, twelve?”