Ricochet (Renegades #3)(31)
Author: Skye Jordan

Disappointment filled his eyes, but frustration tightened his face. Rachel moved on.

“I don’t know if we can get the same products you use in the military. What do you normally work with?”

A sharp shot of something new flashed in his eyes before his gaze dropped away. Pain? Anger? She only knew the sight hit her at the center of her chest and burned.

“The things I normally work with would be highly frowned upon for civilian uses. Gasoline, ball bearings, bullets, unexploded RPGs, cell phones…” He shook his head, took a breath. “I won’t know what I’ll need until I construct a plan.”

He looked directly at her, his eyes shadowed, and forced a smile. “Are you always this efficient?”

“I try.”

“Impressive.”

“Thank you.”

His gaze lowered from her eyes and skimmed her face. “Do you like your freckles?”

The beer must have finally hit her, because she couldn’t make sense of that question. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Your freckles,” he repeated in a low, soft voice. “Every time I was going to mention them last night, you did something that made me forget my own name.” He reached up and ran his index finger down her nose. She startled at the intimate touch, leaning away. The move was automatic, her mind instantly aware of all the attentive gazes nearby.

Her stomach felt like it was trying to jump off a cliff and fly at the same time. “Um…thanks.” She glanced down and away, her mind flashing to the night before, to now, all over the freaking place. “So…when do you think you can get me copies of all your records? Josh is going to want to see them first thing.”

He hesitated. “If I could get all that together for you by tomorrow morning, would that make you happy?”

The thought delivered anticipated relief, and she exhaled heavily. “Very.”

“Then I’ll work on it.”

She gave him a suspicious frown. “Really?”

“Why is that a surprise?” he asked, his lips turning in a small smile. “I’m really not here to make you miserable.”

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. She was officially unnerved, unsure how to act or react.

He set his beer down on the deck and leaned back on his palms. His shoulder muscles rolled easily beneath his skin. The thick, smooth ropes of muscle in his biceps and forearms flexed. She ached to feel those arms pulling her close again.

“So tell me about this consultant guy,” Nathan said. “Marx.”

Rachel turned her gaze back to the pool and finished off her beer, trying to find a way to explain Josh—another complicated man.

“He’s…hard to read sometimes. He’s intelligent, dedicated to safety, and willing to work with people. If there’s a problem, he’ll help you solve it. If he has concerns or sees a better way to do something, he’ll share them.

“He’s…um…” She searched for a politically correct way to categorize Josh’s other characteristics. “He’s…very…detail oriented. And thorough. And precise.”

“Are you trying to say he’s OCD?”

She darted a look at him. “Maybe, yeah.”

“Anal?”

She grimaced and lifted a shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “Um…sort of.”

“Generally a royal pain in the ass who makes everything harder than it has to be.”

She rubbed her hands down her thighs. “Sometimes, but he really is a—”

“Great guy.” Nathan finished, his tone jaded.

She shot him a look. “Yes. He is.”

Ryker gave her one of those knowing smirks before he looked away.

“Hey, man.” Wes’s voice carried across the manicured lawn. “Good to see you.”

She and Nathan glanced at the house as Josh stepped through the sliding glass doors and shook hands with Wes.

Oh shit.

She hadn’t expected him so soon. When she’d talked to Josh earlier, he’d said he’d be on a job until late and would try to make it before everyone was smashed. With Nathan in this edgy mood, and Josh…well, being Josh, she anticipated eventual animosity building between them.

As Josh greeted the other men, Rachel saw him through new eyes—Nathan’s eyes. Aside from Josh’s clean-cut look and Wes’s messy Renegade style, the two men actually looked a lot alike—both over six feet, both blond, both handsome. Wes fell into the wicked rebel category, while Josh was more of the sexy CPA type.

“That him?” Nathan asked, his voice a little on the dark side.

“Yes. I’m sorry, I wanted to prep you before he got here.”

He laughed, the sound cynical. “Baby, I don’t need prepping. The fucking president could walk in here, and I’d be ready.”

She darted a glance at Nathan to gauge his mood. But his expression had changed so completely, he looked like a different man. His face was tight, his jaw hard, lips thin. And his eyes… Those weren’t the warm, flirty eyes that had eaten her up at the bar. Not the lust-filled eyes she’d drowned in last night. These eyes were…sharp, intense, assessing.

“I’m…” she started. “I didn’t mean—”

“Do you always socialize with business associates who have influence over a project?” he asked without taking his eyes off the men as Josh made the rounds to shake hands, take a beer, bullshit. Nathan’s gaze swung back to Rachel’s. “Or is he more than an associate?”

“What?”

Once the shock wore off, she saw the harsh comment for what it was, a flash of male competition. This had been her fear from the start; Nathan and Josh were too much alike. And problem upon problem tipped in Rachel’s mind like dominos.

She gripped his forearm, drawing his gaze again. “Don’t, Nathan. Don’t make this about you and me. That was one night. This is Renegades’ future. Troy’s future.”

Understanding softened his gaze. She didn’t want to pull her hand away. Sensed he needed it. And she loved the feel of him—hard, warm…so solid. But when she glanced toward Josh again, he was scanning the yard, and Rachel removed her hand as his gaze landed on the pool and found her.

They’d worked together for months, and he had to have looked at her hundreds of times. But his gaze felt so much heavier now, when she was sitting next to Nathan, sure Josh would see or sense their attraction. She didn’t owe Josh anything. It was a ridiculous thing to worry about. Yet…