Ricochet (Renegades #3)(89)
Author: Skye Jordan

“Yeah, okay.”

He shifted on his feet, glanced over his shoulder, licked his lips before turning back to her. There was a professional distance to his manner now, one that made her feel like they were ten miles apart. And, damn, that really hurt.

“You, um…” he said, glancing over her, “look great.”

Her stomach fell. This discomfort only verified what she already knew, what she’d known going in—this was for the best.

So why did her eyes sting? Why did she have to fight herself not to drop the damned box in her hands and throw herself into his arms?

She cleared her throat and nodded. “You too.”

Let it go. Walk away.

But she found herself saying, “I hear Ray’s doing well.”

His gaze lowered to the box, but she’d spotted the flash of guilt in his eyes before he’d hidden it. “Much better.” He cleared his own throat. “Even getting some movement back in his fingers. Docs say he should fully recover with PT. A real miracle…or so everyone keeps telling me.”

She smiled, happy for Ray, relieved for Nathan, but her heart hurt too bad to hold on to the expression. “Thank God for small miracles, I guess.”

His lips quivered into a lopsided smile, and for an instant, just an instant, those pretty eyes warmed. The door opened, and three members of the construction team spilled out. Still, Nathan held her gaze as the men apologized and passed between them.

Rachel’s heart fluttered. She waited until the guys were out of earshot, and when Nathan didn’t rush off as she’d expected, she found herself searching for a way to break the ice between them.

But she couldn’t, and the apology—one she’d realized she owed him after getting Nicole’s message—just rolled out of her mouth. “Nathan, I’m…I didn’t mean to push you so hard. I just…I…”

The door opened again, and Josh stepped out, biting into a piece of toast. Rachel’s eyes fell closed for one long moment while her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. When she forced her eyes open again, she kept them away from Nathan’s.

Josh glanced at Nathan, then smiled at Rachel. “Just the beauty I was coming to see.” He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and looked down at the box. “Is that the horn?”

“Yeah.” When she glanced back at Nathan, he was gone—at least emotionally. Physically, he still stood a few feet away, but emotionally, there couldn’t have been a thicker wall around him. Uncomfortable gooseflesh rose on her arms. “I was going to, um…” She forced her gaze from his and back down at the box. “Give it to Brad to take up to the bridge.”

“No need.” He tossed his uneaten toast into a trashcan nearby and took the handle from Rachel. “I’ll take it up.” Then he looked at Nathan. “See you up there?” he asked, clearly dismissing him.

Nathan turned away without responding. And without looking at Rachel. Just like that, the fragile connection between them, one that had been so strong just days ago, snapped.

She blinked fast to keep the sting in her eyes from turning into tears and turned out of Josh’s embrace. “Thanks. I’ve got a lot to do before the blast.”

And walking away from Josh after seeing Nathan again made one thing blatantly clear to her—she hadn’t been denying Josh dates because she was afraid of commitment or even because they worked together. She’d been denying him because there was no chemistry. No connection. No intimacy. No challenge. No excitement.

No…risk.

All of which she’d had in abundance with Nathan.

Rachel waited until the last minute to hike up to the bridge, and now the camp was eerily quiet with the entire staff settling in to watch the spectacular show Nathan had planned. Only the kitchen staff bustled around the camp, preparing for the after-party.

Jax had returned midday, along with Wes, Troy, Keaton, and Duke, and all the Renegades had stopped only to poke their heads in and tell her they missed her and bitch about the temp running the office before they hightailed it up to the bridge.

Rachel made the final entry into the cost analysis sheet and looked at the total. Nathan had brought them in twenty thousand dollars under budget, meaning that as long as this stunt went off as planned, their stunt work in the Bond film would officially be declared a success, and Renegades would see a huge influx of cash, employees, and work. If something went wrong tonight…

No. She wasn’t going there. Everything would work out fine. Awesome, in fact. And Rachel was pretty damned sure that afterward, Jax and Lexi would be announcing wedding plans.

The thought made her think of Nicole. Of Dante.

And she felt nothing but a pang of regret for the whole mess. No anger. No sadness. No loss. Now she just felt lonely. And foolish.

She pulled out her phone and created a new text message.

RACHEL: I can’t forgive and forget the way everyone wants me to. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fully trust you again. But you’re my sister, I’ll always love you, and I hope you and Dante find happiness.

She pressed Send, heaved a breath of relief that she wasn’t holding on to that ugly anger anymore, and turned off her phone.

With all the bookkeeping complete, Rachel shut down her computer with a small sense of accomplishment and locked the office on her way out. She hiked up to the bridge because she needed the exercise to banish some of her nerves—over seeing Nathan, over interacting with him in the presence of men who knew her well enough to spot her discomfort if she didn’t hide it well, of something going wrong with the stunt, of someone getting hurt…

Those had all faded by the time she reached the halfway mark. Dusk was closing in, and even from the side of the mountain, she could see and hear the activity above. She could sense the excitement and stress.

And by the time she reached the top, the filming choppers already had their blades rotating. She stood at the edge of the cluster of staff in the safety zone, which had been dramatically increased for the big blast, and crossed her arms. In the control booth, also moved to a distant plateau about twenty yards from where Rachel stood, Jax spoke to Nathan, while Nathan’s focus remained on the choppers. The setting sun dragged shadows over the day, making it impossible to see Nathan’s expression, but even from where she, Rachel could sense his intensity.

Troy spotted her and threaded through the crowd to stand at her side. “Can’t wait to finish this and get you back.”

“Don’t start in on the temp again,” she said. “I’ll fix anything she messed up.”