Ricochet (Renegades #3)(27)
Author: Skye Jordan

His cock swelled, and he shifted on his feet to relieve the pressure.

“Now, that is refreshing.” She didn’t sound as approving as she did relieved, but it was still the first positive thing she’d said to him since she’d set eyes on him again. “Could you rub off on him while you’re here?”

Troy made a disgusted sound in his throat. “You have no idea—”

“Don’t.” Ryker shot Troy a glare that promised pain. “Even.”

Rachel clicked a pen on the desk and pointed to the paper on the right. “Release form—if you kill yourself, it’s your own stupid fault.” Then to the one on the left. “Emergency contact—the person we call to tell them how stupid you were.”

Ryker grinned as he scribbled his signature and the basic information into the blanks. He liked her more by the minute. Wanted her more by the second.

Wes slapped a hand to Ryker’s shoulder. “Let’s clear out of here and let Rachel get her perfect little world back in order. That always improves her mood.”

Everyone turned for the door. Troy tossed Ryker a harness.

“Nathan,” Rachel said, “can I have a minute?”

He faced her again, barely holding back the you can have a hell of a lot more than that on his tongue.

“Rachel,” Troy said, his voice edgy, “stop calling him Nath—”

“Troy,” she snapped back, “stop bossing me around and get out of my office.”

He muttered something under his breath as he followed the others down the stairs and slammed the door on his way out. Rachel flinched and closed her eyes on a growl. “Damn two-year-old.”

“I’ll have a talk with him.” Ryker swung the harness over his shoulder. “Listen, I really don’t want to make trouble for you. And I don’t plan to. I’m sure we can—”

“Nathan,” she cut in, pressing all ten fingertips to her desktop and leaning in, her expression…tortured was the only way Ryker could describe it. “You can’t accept this job.”

His immediate reaction was to lash out, a rebellious response rooted in his childhood and one that had gotten him in his share of trouble growing up. The army had taught him how to control that impulse for the most part, but this was one of those borderline moments, and the muscles along his shoulders and spine tightened while heat gathered at his core. “Excuse me?”

She straightened, her gaze on her blotter while she flexed and clenched her fingers into fists. When she lifted her gaze to his again, her mouth was tight, her eyes dark with determination, which only intensified Ryker’s need to push back.

“This is the most important stunt in Renegades’ history,” she said. “Pulling this off is already going to take a miracle. We can’t afford any additional obstacles. Now there’s Josh, and having you on board…” She shook her head, her mind’s chaotic spin showing in her eyes. “It won’t work. It’ll all fall apart. You…you…can’t take the job.”

She’d managed to slam his ego from every angle, and anger roiled inside him to soothe the hurt. To take his ego out of the equation, he pulled on his training, tempering his words.

“Troy is the closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother,” he said, trying like hell to force his voice into a steady, unquestionable tone instead of the erratic mess that wanted to come. “And he loves this company as much—if not more—than you do. He’s asked me to take on this job. Your boss has asked me to take on this job.”

“That’s because they’re nervous about getting a contractor in time. But they aren’t doing the groundwork. I am. And I—”

“Do you have a contractor?” he asked. “Right now, today, to take on this job?”

“No, but—”

“But, they need someone right now. Today.” With the harness over one shoulder and the plans in the other hand, Ryker stalked toward the door. “Do what you need to do to get your head straight about this, Rachel, because if Troy needs me, I’m there.” He turned and met her gaze before walking out. “Regardless of the obstacles.”

8

“So this is how the other half lives,” Ryker murmured to himself as he stood from the Avalanche and took in Jax Chamberlin’s Malibu beachside mansion.

If Troy had told him to wear swim trunks as a prank and this turned out to be some swanky dinner, Ryker was going to beat him into kidney failure.

He drew the bridge plans off the passenger’s seat, tossed his duffle with a change of clothes and a six-pack of beer over his shoulder, and started up the stone path to the front door, drawing the cool sea breeze into his lungs. The house was mammoth, the exterior stucco rich with detail around every corner. The gardens were lush and manicured. And Ryker had never felt more out of his element.

At the front door, he pressed the bell and took a deep breath to expand his tightening lungs. He stared at the handsome pair of heavily carved wooden entry doors while his mind played with possible ways Rachel could greet him tonight, but none came out in his favor. He’d done the right thing. But how could it have been right if he’d had to remind himself half a dozen times today?

A door swung open, revealing Troy—in swim trunks, a T-shirt, and bare feet.

Thank God.

One disaster averted.

“Dude. It’s about time.” Troy stepped aside and held the door wide. The edgy, sultry sound of My Darkest Days’s “Porn Star Dancin’” floated from the house’s interior. “We’re putting the steaks on the grill, and I’ve got a Firestone Walker 17 waiting for you.”

Troy’s mention of the brewer Ryker loved reminded him of the beer he’d brought, and he fished the six-pack from his duffle. “For the stash.”

“The guys are anxious to hear what you thought of the plans.” Troy took the beer and closed the door behind him. “Welcome.” The female voice drew their gazes. Ryker found himself looking at a live version of Barbie. No…scratch that. She was way more beautiful than the doll. Tall, built, gorgeous, the woman shocked Ryker stupid. She wore a long sarong-type hot-pink-and-white tie-dyed skirt knotted at one hip and a white halter-style bathing suit top. She held out her hand. “I’m Lexi. You must be the man who’s going to save the day.”

Save the day. Hardly.

There had been a time when Ryker saw himself as badass. A time when he’d believed himself a hero. Age, maturity, and facing the reaper a few times brought him down to earth quickly. Now, he doubted he’d ever envision himself that way again.