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  Ryder’s Boys

  A Sun-Soaked Gay Romance Bundle

  Cody Ryder

  Written by Cody Ryder

  Copyright© 2019 by Cody Ryder. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Hello!

  SUMMARY

  Thank you for reading!

  Our Rhythm

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Bounty of the Heart

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  A Cup of Joe

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Also by Cody Ryder

  Thank you for choosing to read my Ryder’s Boys Bundle! Please subscribe to my mailing list for notification of sales, freebies, and new release updates!

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  SUMMARY

  Ryder’s Boys is a sweet and fluffy contemporary gay romance bundle featuring three sun-soaked novels set in glamorous Southern California. Fans of fast-paced, lighthearted stories (and dogs!) will love this wonderful collection.

  Our Rhythm

  Wedding photographer Luke Golden desperately needs a change. He’s been single since college, and he just can’t admit to himself that he’s got a thing for men. That is, until he meets Will Masterson at a client’s wedding. He’s impossibly handsome, he’s got a voice of gold, and he’s one of the most famous pop stars in the world. As the notes of their passion begin to perfectly harmonize, they must do everything they can to keep their relationship out of the public eye and away from Will’s uptight and authoritarian stage mother. Can the two men keep their secret hidden, or will the curtain come crashing down on their love forever?

  Bounty of the Heart

  After being left by his fiancée and losing his job, Roy Winterfield struggles to redefine his views on romance, believing he’ll never love again. Everything changes when, at a local farmer’s market, a vendor selling fresh vegetables turns out to be someone from Roy’s youth—Dakota Heart, the only boy he’d ever loved. The two former lovers find passions quickly rekindling, but Roy needs healing, and Dakota doesn’t know if he can let himself fall in love with him again. Can one adorable dog, the healing power of nature, and the warm memories of a past love keep fragile hearts from pulling apart?

  A Cup of Joe

  Bruce LeFlorette is the owner of a struggling boutique coffee shop, the business passed down to him by his late parents. With the family legacy on his shoulders he’s had no time for romance, especially when the big corporate cafe opens up just down the block. His only respite from the stress of his failing business is by blowing off steam at his local boxing class. When Bruce meets Joe Jordan, the two hit it off fast—especially when Joe finds himself no match for Bruce’s fast fists. After a hard defeat, he just can’t stop thinking about the fiery younger man. The attraction between such passionate souls is undeniable—but what will happen when they discover they’re one another’s biggest business rivals?

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  Our Rhythm

  One

  I remember there was a time when I used to love going to weddings. People you loved and cared about all in good spirits and dressed to the nines, the alcohol flowed and the food was usually pretty damn good. By the end of the night, everyone was having a blast, and maybe, depending on whose wedding it was, you might leave having met someone special yourself.

  The time I loved weddings was a period right in my last couple years of university, when a whole chunk of my friends decided to settle down and get married. I was working on getting my degree in photographic arts at the Art Center in Pasadena, just a few years later than a majority of my peers due to a era of bumming around and “finding my calling”. It seemed every other month I was hitting up a friend’s wedding, and it seemed like every time I’d have at least one new friend drunkenly say to me, “Hey Luke, seeing anyone yet?”

  Well, things haven’t changed much in that realm in the three years since I graduated. Still single. I’d tried dating girls in the past, but none of them did it for me, and the thought of actually going out with a guy…? I won’t lie, it scared me. I had trouble just admitting that I was attracted to men, my upbringing had insured that, so the prospect of being intimate with one? Well, let’s just say I’d resigned to a life of perpetual bachelorhood. But I was okay with that, at least that’s what I told myself. I had a career to try and make, after all, even though it was going absolutely nowhere.

  Maybe part of it was my internal struggle. I thought at the very least I’d have been hired by some commercial firm right out of university; after all, Art Center held that kind of reputation which is why I braved the six figure tuition to follow my passion to become a photographer, but here I was, three years down the line, struggling to pay off my student loans and the rent to my shitty North Hollywood apartment, and the only work that I had was as a wedding photographer.

  And that’s why I used to love going to weddings.

  Now instead of the good spirits all I got was the stress from the exhausting wedding party, having to wrangle the photos with people who were trying to juggle a multitude of other things all counting on me to make sure they still looked their very best. The grueling hours on my feet, the iPhone photographer aunties who always got in the way when I was trying to capture an important moment, and not to mention every single gig was a painful reminder of my single-ness.

  It was a Friday night, and I sat at my computer finishing up a batch of images from a wedding I had shot the weekend before. I was exhausted and I had another to shoot tomorrow. I rubbed my eyes, the images of smiling couples against gleaming golden sunsets, wedding ring macro shots and dress preparations all blending into one pastel twinkly mess.

  In school I had studied commercial work – shooting products for advertisements and things like that, but my real dream was to shoot home architecture and gardens. I absolutely loved shooting people’s living spaces, lighting them and setting them up in a way that captured the essence of what made their house feel like home. I dreamed of traveling the world and shooting homes of all different types of people, from the tiny, nature harmonized spaces of Tokyo to the ultramodern high rise penthouse apart
ments of Dubai, and of course everything in between.

  Yesterday I had gone for an interview with Homeowner’s Mag, a top online publication that did the type of work that was just up my alley. They were sending their photographers around the world, they were marketed towards trendy and forward thinking young professionals, their design aesthetic matched mine almost perfectly. Finding a company actually looking at portfolios was rare. Landing an interview was even rarer. Getting to the second phase after that would be a damn miracle, but I needed this job. I had to get out of the wedding biz and get my real career started.

  I hit export, uploaded the photos to my website, and then sent off a link to the client. I was going to shut off my computer, when I paused at the file on my desktop titled LukeGolden_Portfolio.PDF. I opened it and scrolled through the photos I had shot during my senior year at college, the same portfolio I had submitted to Homeowner’s Mag. I reassured myself that I was a sure fit. I glanced at the clock – two thirty AM. Christ. Another late night, another early morning. And I had a terrible suspicion tomorrow's clients were going to be one of those difficult ones. I hopped in the shower, brushed my teeth, and was out before my head hit the pillow.

  Two

  “So, Luke, just so I have this straight,” Carol, the bride’s mother said, interrupting me as I worked on a getting a shot of the bride being made up by her tittering bridesmaids. It must’ve been the tenth time in the past hour the woman had come to me with questions about the photos. “You’ll be sure to get a shot of the rings? And during the ceremony, during the kiss, I want you to make sure that the photo will be extra magical.” She said “magical” with a flourish of her fingers, like they were sparkling pixie dust. “Do you know what I mean? With the glowy dots in the background.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ve got it all covered,” I said for the tenth time.

  “Okay. But you’ll be sure to get the vows from both angles? And with the glowy dots?”

  “Carol, I’ve got it all covered. April and I will make sure everything is shot perfectly, don't you worry.” April was my business partner, and happened to be the only friend who knew about my preferences. I held the camera back up to my eye and snapped a couple shots, trying to get back into my groove, but I could still feel Carol hovering by me.

  Glowy dots. Some clients couldn’t resist giving suggestions, which wasn’t always a bad thing, they had ideas for shots that they really wanted and I was happy to give that to them, but there were people like Carol who had to micromanage everything about a skill she had absolutely no knowledge of. By “glowy dots” she probably meant “bokeh”, the thing that happens to points of light in the background when you shoot with a shallow depth of field.

  I finished up inside and went out to grab a quick breather before guests started arriving and things started to get really intense. The venue was beautiful, an idyllic and rustic little place that had the feel of an old Spanish mission, tucked up onto a hill overlooking the ocean. It was pleasantly cool for a California June day, which I couldn’t have been more thankful for. Nothing worse than rushing around with photo equipment strapped to me like Rambo in ninety degree weather.

  I saw April sitting on the edge of a fountain by a table with a poster of the bride and groom that said “Life Starts Here!” printed on it. She was smoking a cigarette, her Canon DSLR placed in her lap. April was a couple years older than me, had shoulder length brown hair, dark eyes, and always wore a no-nonsense look about her that she called “resting bitch face.” She and I had met through a mutual friend during school, and we became good friends almost immediately. April had a never ending reservoir of snark, and I loved her for it. I always knew I could count on hearing her honest opinion on things.

  “Carol wanted me to remind you about the glowy dots,” I said, sitting down next to her. She laughed and took a drag of her cigarette and then offered the box of American Spirits to me. I shook my head.

  “She pulled me aside earlier today when I was taking some shots with the zoom,” she said. “Asked me if I was standing close enough. I thought she was going to ask to look through the viewfinder just to make sure.”

  “Things never cease to be interesting with a client like her, huh?” I said. “The bride and groom seem like great people, though.”

  She nodded. “Getting to see people like Sarah and Matt tie the knot is what makes this job worth the pain. So. You hear back from your housewife magazine?”

  “Homeowners Mag,” I corrected. “And no, nothing yet. Any time now, though.”

  April took a final drag of her American Spirit, knocked off the ember and then tossed the butt in a trash can beneath the table next to us. “Well I hope it works out for you, Luke, even though it would mean me having to find another partner. Your work is amazing.”

  I smiled at her and checked my watch. Guests would be showing up any time now. We would go back and take some last minute shots of the bride and groom before the regrouping for the ceremony. “What about you, April? How's your blog coming?”

  April had been trying to get an entertainment news blog off the ground during college, but despite her efforts and excellent writing skills, it’d never gotten much traction.

  “I’ve got a voracious and loyal fan base of ten people, one of which is you and three of which are my parents and sister. I don’t see that doing much for me, unless I somehow catch a break.”

  “Hey, that’s six loyal followers,” I said, and we both sighed.

  The guests began to arrive and take their seats in the gazebo where the ceremony would be held, and April and I went around snapping photos. A group of high school girls who I learned were cousins of the bride all posed for a photo for me before retreating to their seats to take copious amounts of selfies. April and I brought out our lighting equipment and set up a strobe flash behind a diffuser as a fill light for when bride and groom took their vows, then I quickly went to the venue manager and asked if he had any Christmas lights we could hang up to give Carol her “glowy dots.” He did, and the three of us strung them up on the wall.

  There was a hushed and excited exchange from the high school cousins and for a panicked second I thought that the ceremony was about to begin when we weren’t completely ready, but when I looked up I saw that guests were still making their way in to their seats. No, the girls were talking excitedly amongst themselves, occasionally turning around to peek at someone who was at the back of the room. I noticed that a few others were looking now too; quick attempts at discrete glances. I saw that a man had entered – tall, with perfectly quaffed golden blonde hair and wearing a sharp navy blue suit with sunglasses. He shook hands with a couple people, and others were looking up from their chairs at him, smiling.

  Who was this guy? Old friend of the groom’s, maybe? That didn’t really account for the teenage girls who were gawking at him. He removed his sunglasses, revealing bright ocean blue eyes and there was an audible gasp from the group of cousins as he did so. They watched him with intense interest as he took a seat near the back of the friend’s section, but by himself. It seemed like he wasn’t close with anyone here.

  “Luke, help me with this light stand?” April called, snapping me back to the present.

  “Sure, sorry,” I said, and hurried over to get the thing extended and set up. The cousins were now giggling and whispering amongst themselves. Maybe the guy was some sort of celebrity? I didn’t recognize him, but these days, anyone could be internet famous.

  April and I took our places, snapping the occasional photo of the guests as they chatted in their seats. I had forgotten all about the blue-eyed mystery and settled into my work focus. We’d shoot the ceremony, have a quick break, and then be all in again for the next few hours until the end of the night.

  Then the music started, and the ceremony began.

  So despite my complaints about the grind, and despite having said that I used to like weddings, there’s still magic in that ceremony that gets to me every time, no matter how terribly stressful the client i
s to work with, or how tired I am, or how much I wished I was out shooting something related to my desired career and skill path. I’m in my zone making everyone look their very best, but when the bride and groom exchange their words to each other I can’t help but look up from my viewfinder and smile. In all of the weddings I’ve shot over the past three years, I can honestly say that every time, that moment contained a bit of real magic. Hopes for the future, the binding of two souls together forever, an opening of a door to new lives together.