Ricochet (Renegades #3)(53)
Author: Skye Jordan

“Huh?” Charlie asked.

“The example Josh wanted,” Jax told him. “Of a real-life bridge taken down in the same way Ryker wants to take out this one.”

Marx picked up his second piece of pizza. “That bridge didn’t have any cracks in the foundation pillars. It didn’t have a smaller blast happening prior to the main blast, which could weaken the structure. And it didn’t have the weight of filming crew and equipment. It also wasn’t taken down piece by piece, but blown in one blast.”

The front door opened behind him. It had to be Rachel. She was the only one missing. But he held Marx’s gaze. “None of that matters. The crack I found would only threaten the stability of the bridge in an earthquake. And the amount of RDX I plan on using to blow chunks out of the asphalt in the first blast are so small they won’t touch the structural integrity of the road or the bridge. You’re creating problems where there are none.”

“That’s my job to imagine all the worst-case scenarios and assess the risk that could possibly occur.”

“But we also know”—Rachel’s voice drew his gaze as she walked toward their table—“that there’s a difference between worst-case scenarios and impossible scenarios.”

Ryker had one of those crazy “chorus of angels” moments he’d never believed in. But time slowed, and all his attention homed on her.

Something was different. Like firecracker different. She looked gorgeous, as usual, in a casual blue print dress, the fabric flowy and draping along the luscious curves of her body. The uneven hem hitting her high thigh and the tiny straps exposed her shoulders and chest. And his body flashed hot.

She came directly to the end of the table, her gaze direct on Ryker’s. Her creamy skin was pinked from the day’s sun, and her hair was still damp from her shower, spilling crazily over her shoulders in loose waves and making Ryker think about feeling it sliding over his stomach, his thighs, threaded through his fingers, fisted in his hands.

Fire blasted through his groin, and the sexual ache in his gut deepened into pain.

Rachel stopped at Charlie’s chair, placed her hand on the back, and leaned into it, her other hand on her cocked hip, but her gaze held on Ryker’s, as if she were trying to read him. She darted a look toward the twins, her gaze roving over each of them slowly.

His mind flashed with the sight of the room from outside in the dark night, suddenly sure Rachel had seen the twins coming on to him, and only hoped she understood the game he played with them was for everyone else’s benefit.

Marx whistled low through his teeth, drawing Rachel’s gaze.

“Rach…” His eyes ate her up, and a whole different type of frustration added knots along Ryker’s nerves. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” she said, meeting his gaze directly. “I only caught the end of that conversation, but I could swear I heard you toying with the laws of statistics.” Her mouth turned, but the grin was sly. “Did you need me to calculate the statistics of an earthquake occurring during the short duration of this project at a magnitude required to actually cause risk to life or property? Because you know how I love to play with numbers. And you know how I also love to bring down the overhead for Renegades. So, seeing as a calculation like that would do both, I’d be all over it.”

“Well, now that you’ve pointed out the unlikelihood of that event,” he said, his smile edgy, “I can see it wouldn’t be worth your time.”

She gave him a nod of approval and glanced toward the table, where the food had been laid out. “Now that I’ve had a shower, I’m suddenly feeling the length of the day. I’m going to grab some food, mix myself a drink, and take them back to my room.”

“Rach,” Jax said. “We’re going to finalize the action sequence when we’re done eating. I know Ryker’s going to need your help putting that together.”

She scooped salad onto a paper plate, added two slices of pizza, and two brownies.

“He’s a great note taker.” She licked brownie crumbs off her fingers and shot him a halfhearted grin. “And he’s also fond of telling me just how to do things, so I’m sure he’ll relay the details you finalize. But right now, I’m burned to a crisp, and I still have to make final edits to the SOP to satisfy Josh’s OCD.”

Jax darted a look at Ryker. He was frowning at Rachel, trying to read this…odd…mood, and Jax’s expression mirrored Ryker’s.

“Are you okay, Rach?” Jax asked.

“Sure.” She peeked into a cardboard box stuffed into the corner. “There it is.” She set her plate on the table and pulled two bottles of liquor out of the box. “Why didn’t anyone break out the booze? Am I the only one who needs a drink around here?”

She turned a plastic cup over and poured in clear liquid. Ryker glanced at the label and saw the image of an orange. Vodka. Mandarin. The memory of the taste of orange on her tongue that night flooded him with lust. The amount of alcohol she added to the cup in comparison to the amount of soda confirmed she was serious about the drink. And Ryker’s mind was already filling with her tipsy smile, her giggle, the loose, soft feel of her eager mouth.

“I could use one.” He stood and met her at the table. “Got whiskey in there?”

“Absolutely.” Her eyes darted to the side, barely meeting his through her lashes. “I made sure to pick up some Firestone too. It’s in the kitchen.”

“Beer?” Ray, one of the other construction workers, called from the table. “Did I hear Firestone?”

“Kitchen,” Ryker told him. “Next building to the right.”

“Sweet.” Ray pushed his chair back and exited.

Ryker poured whiskey into a cup as Rachel cut a lime in half and squeezed it into her drink. With one swirl of the liquid, she tipped the drink back and took two big swallows.

“Whoa, sugar,” he murmured under his breath, his cock growing hard at the sight. “Remember what that did to you last time you chugged.”

She lowered the cup and sighed, eyes closed. “Can’t seem to forget.” Before he could interpret or reply, she offered him the other half of the lime for his drink and lifted one corner of her lips in a pathetic attempt at a smile. “Enjoy your night.”

“Wait…” he murmured, but she’d already turned and started toward the door.