Ricochet (Renegades #3)(29)
Author: Skye Jordan

“I know,” she said, “I miss you too. I always find myself turning to tell you something before I realize you’re not there.”

The obvious intimacy between them made irritation creep down his spine. He was annoyed that he cared. He shouldn’t give a shit. She was another chick he’d tapped on leave. Nothing new. The only difference was now he had to work with her. No big.

Keep telling yourself that, loser.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta go,” she said. “I promise I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you too.”

Rachel disconnected and set her cell down. Her sigh rocked her shoulders, and her gaze remained lowered toward her feet moving in the water.

This building irritation was not a great way to be feeling when he faced her. They already had enough tension between them. But they were both here, and they were both going to have to get over this rough spot.

“Just do it already,” he muttered under his breath, and pushed his feet forward.

Rachel disconnected with tears in her eyes and set her phone down on the pool deck. Bracing her hands on the tile edge, she stared down into the light aqua water and took a deep, slow breath. Held it. Then released it in a slow, steady stream. That always took the edge off.

She felt bad for her parents, their only children estranged like this. But Rachel had spent her entire life taking care of them. Of Nicole. Putting everyone else first. And look where that had gotten her. Putting her own needs first now was the right thing to do.

Some days she needed to remind herself of that fact more often than others.

“Hey.”

The deep voice startled her, and she jumped and glanced over her shoulder. Nathan stood in the shadows, a beer bottle in each hand, wearing long white swim trunks with a big red hibiscus pattern and a matching red tank that clung to every luscious muscle underneath and exposed the others across his shoulders and down his arms where his gorgeous flag tattoo blended perfectly.

A ball chain around his neck drew her gaze. The silver disappeared into his tank, but she could see the outline of his military dog tags beneath the fitted fabric, reminding her of his lies. Of how naïve she’d been to think learning as little about him as possible would make jumping a stranger less complicated. And of how she was making it all worse than it had to be.

“Hey,” she said. “Guess the bridge plans didn’t compel you to book an early flight back to the Middle East.”

“You were hoping, huh?”

She huffed a laugh but couldn’t manage a smile. “I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind.”

“Ouch.” He winced. “But I guess I can’t blame you.”

“And I can’t blame this situation all on you, either. Sit.” She patted the tile beside her. “We should talk.”

He lowered to the pool ledge, and his familiar scent touched her nose. Musky, a hint of spice, an edge of citrus, and so very male. Her mind flashed with wicked memories from their wild night, and the desire to straddle his lap, bury her face in his neck, and breathe him in swelled low in her belly like a craving. But that would never happen again. And she needed to clear the air between them so they could work together.

But she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze from the outline of the tags beneath his tank. She lifted her hand and tapped the metal with her knuckles. “Where were those last night?”

He glanced down, then back with the same guilty look she’d seen so often in the eyes of the other men here tonight. “Uh…in my pocket.”

“Did you put them in your pocket before or after you met me?”

His mouth slid into a sideways purse and his gaze lowered.

“You’re ridiculously transparent.” Not to mention insanely adorable when he was caught in a lie. But, she realized, only to transparent to those without a sex-crazed brain. It was a little late for the no-regrets plan she’d made, but she didn’t have to dwell on them. Rubbing her hands along her thighs, she curved her hands around her knees, and propped her feet on the pool’s gutter. “I’m, um…I’m really sorry for how I acted earlier today. I’m…” She exhaled, pressed her lips together. God, she sucked at apologizing. “I was totally blindsided and reacted. I’m not letting you off the hook for throwing me that curve. You knew it was unfair, knew we had friends in common, knew we could eventually meet up, and you still purposely held back. But I shouldn’t have told you not to take the job.”

Nathan’s feet swung in the water. “I did hold back. And it was shitty. I should have thought it through, should have tried harder to tell you.” His voice took on a light sarcastic edge. “Definitely should have snuffed that killer night of delirious sex—one I’ll remember for the rest of my life—and told you I was Ryker.”

She wasn’t naïve enough to believe that admission, but—true or not—a bubble of pleasure grew beneath her breastbone. She squashed it and huffed a laugh, turning a really? expression on him, but he only grinned. He was exactly what she expected of a player—charming, unruffled, cunning, and slick. But last night, that’s all she’d expected.

Now…shit, now everything was different.

“Then,” he said, lightening his tone, “you could have dropped me off, and we could have both gone to bed frustrated and alone. Definitely a better answer.”

“You’re missing the point.”

“Just sayin’.” He shrugged and offered her one of the beer bottles. “Can we call a truce?”

This was what she wanted, right? No drama. She wished he wasn’t so damn…likeable.

She reached for the bottle and tipped the beer to glance at the label. She laughed out the title, “Forbidden Fruit?”

“Firestone. And…it seems appropriate.”

Movement near the house drew their gazes. Lexi came through the sliding glass doors with a platter and passed it off to Wes, reminding her that he must have gotten a glimpse of the two former models on his way in. Which might explain his easy attitude. His desire to draw a truce. Once a man saw French chocolate nearby, Hershey’s lost all appeal.

“Did you meet Lexi? And Rubi?” she asked, watching him closely over the rim of her bottle as she took her first sip.

He nodded, expressionless. “And Keaton and Duke. Are there any more?”

She swirled the beer in her mouth enjoying the rich, earthy, fruity blend, and hoping like hell the alcohol hit her bloodstream soon. “Wow, that’s good.” Then to Nathan asked, “Any more what? Renegades or drop-dead gorgeous women in the group?”