Ricochet (Renegades #3)(65)
Author: Skye Jordan

“Man,” she breathed, hands on hips. “This was a great idea.”

“I have them…occasionally.” He looked both ways on the beach and pointed toward the right and bluffs in the distance. “How about that way?”

They started off in an easy jog, and Rachel took a few minutes shaking the tension from her arms, loosening up, then picked up the pace, but not by much.

“How often do you run?” he asked.

“Not as much as I used to since I joined Renegades. Maybe three times a week now.” This was both awkward and comfortable. She knew him deeply in some ways, yet not at all in others, and the imbalance felt odd when she thought about it too much.

“Let’s go look at those alcoves in the cliffs.”

He pointed to the bluffs on her right and the multitude of shallow little almost-caves the overhangs and walls created. But as they jogged closer, Rachel saw that several were far deeper than she realized.

“These are cool.”

He slowed, then stopped and glanced in one. She followed, fascinated by the formations. He walked to the next and glanced inside. “This one is different.”

She pulled her gaze from the rock and followed Nathan to the next, peering around the stone wall and into the deeper alcove. Her gaze caught sight of something laid out inside and stepped closer. “What’s—”

Then she recognized a blanket spread out. A bottle of wine, a white pastry box…

“Someone’s here.” She grabbed Nathan’s forearm and pulled him back, glancing around the beach again. The sunset cast a pink reflection on the wet sand, and she realized they’d stumbled upon someone’s romantic evening. Her heart squeezed and softened at the effort involved in the setup. “We should go before—”

“We’re here,” he said. “No one else is coming.”

Her gaze jumped to his. “What? What are you…?” She glanced back at the setup, and her heart did a horribly uncomfortable gymnastics routine in her chest. Rachel dropped his arm and stepped away. “Nathan…you didn’t…you didn’t do this.”

“Yeah, I did.” He reached for her hand again, and Rachel pulled back, but Nathan held tight. “Hold on a second—”

“I told you this morning…” Stop. Back up. Relax. Don’t snap. She took a deep breath through her nose, her gaze on the sand. Control was slipping away. Control of everything important in her life.

“I know that thing with Jax and Josh freaked you out last night.” He eased the grip on her arm, feathering his fingers toward her hand, “and I might not like it, but I do understand.”

She didn’t understand, and a flutter of panic trickled through her chest. “Nathan, why did you do this?”

“Because it’s as close to privacy as I could manage for us under the circumstances.”

Shit. She licked her lips, shifted on her feet. With one hand on her hip, she pushed the other into her hair. “Nathan…we don’t need privacy. I can’t keep up this…this…secret sexcapade with you.”

He laughed at her description of their relationship. But Rachel didn’t find any of this humorous. This had to be the sweetest thing any man had ever done for her, and she was twisted over it.

“I knew this would happen. I knew it,” she said more to herself than to Nathan. “I knew in my gut I couldn’t handle this kind of thing, but I listened to people who aren’t like me, and now I’m in way over my head.” She looked at Nathan, pointing. “I told you last night I knew you were too much for me. I said I’d try. And I tried. And it didn’t work.” She turned toward the car and started walking. “You have to take me back. You agreed to a run. This is not a run.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” He came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist.

She tensed and wiggled in his grasp. “Nathan, why are you making this so hard? Why can’t you just let it go?”

“Shh,” he said, his lips pressed to her hair. “Hey, stop. We’re alone now. Just you and me. No one knows. Everything is fine.”

She stopped struggling, embarrassed at how hard she was breathing from little more than trying to free herself from his arms.

“There you go,” he whispered in her ear, resting his jaw against her temple.

He eased her back against his body and swayed so slightly she almost couldn’t tell, but the undeniable relaxation of the movement drained the tension from her muscles. She kept her hands on his forearms, ready to pry them away…because she was already on the edge of turning into him and letting him make her forget all about her problems in the outside world.

“Five minutes,” he murmured. “Let’s sit down, have a glass of wine. Relax for five minutes with me, Rach. You might live at the beach year round, but I won’t see another sunset over the ocean for two years.”

Well, shit.

Yes, she knew he was using that to get her to stay. But she also knew it was true.

She took a breath and slid her hands down his arms. “Five minutes.”

His head tipped as he pressed his face to her hair and exhaled. He planted a quick kiss to her hair, then released her before she could push him away and took her hand, leading her toward the alcove.

At the blanket, he held her hands as she lowered to her butt, then he crouched and started unlacing her shoes. She pulled her feet back, but he moved with her, his hands fast and efficient.

“I don’t need my shoes off for five minutes,” she said, reaching out to push his hands away. But he already had one shoe off and dodged her hands to grab the toe of her sock and tugged. “Nathan.”

“You’re at the beach,” he said, making a game of getting her other shoe. “Put your toes in the sand, even if it’s for five minutes.”

Despite her frustration, her discomfort, her confusion, she found herself laughing as he dragged off her other shoe and sock.

He sat back, setting her shoes well off to the side. “There. Isn’t that better?”

She sighed and dug her feet into the sand. Leaning forward she crossed her arms on her knees and gazed at the sunset. Yeah. This was better. But she wouldn’t admit that to him. He was definitely a give-him-an-inch-and-he’d-take-a-mile type.

He disappeared behind her and made a ruckus in the back of the alcove that drew her gaze over her shoulder. “What are you…?”

He reappeared with pieces of wood in his arms, passed by, and dumped them three feet away in the sand. Then proceeded to build a wood teepee with a center of paper.