Ricochet (31 page)

Rachel slid her pen down the line items on the latest building supply invoice and her finger down the packing slip for the delivered items. Her vision blurred again, and this time, blinking didn’t make it better.

She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her lids, rubbing at the fatigue. A nap sounded like heaven, but she didn’t have the time. Josh had dragged out the supposed quick visit in town, trying to make it into a freaking date or something. Thank goodness he’d left to check on another site this afternoon. But he’d be back soon. She knew that three days a week would turn into five. Or more.

She’d been backed up on work ever since she’d returned. New employees, the cook, the housekeeper, bookkeeping… She’d been running all over the site since she’d returned and just recently sat down to start on paperwork, only to have her vision blur.

Of course, no sleep last night hadn’t helped. Or the way she kept thinking about Nathan today.

“Stupid men,” she muttered, picking up with the list where she’d left off.

Within three lines, her gaze blurred again.

She exhaled and slapped her pen on the desk. “Forget it. I need to wake up.”

She left the office and walked toward her room, her gaze searching for signs of Nathan—something she’d caught herself doing all day. But his truck was still gone from the lot, and Charlie had told her he’d gone to visit a friend in Santa Ynez.

The days were still long, and everyone else had drifted off the job, returning to their bunks after dinner or joining the pickup game of basketball on the makeshift court behind the stockyard.

In her room, she changed into running clothes and pulled her hair into a ponytail, looking forward to the release of all the stress that had built up since last night. She grabbed a bottle of water from the pack by her door and stepped out of the cabin, determined to return only after she was drenched in sweat and her mind was empty. She walked toward a path that wound through the mountains before returning to camp, but before she reached the trail, Nathan’s truck turned onto the property and up the main drive toward the lot and Rachel.

Her heart skipped. Her stomach squeezed. She swore under her breath and kept walking. His drove up next to her and slowed, leaning over and rolling down the window on the passenger’s door. “Hey. Going for a run?”

“Yes.”

They came to a crossroads where Rachel needed to turn left, but Nathan’s truck was in the way, and he slowed to a stop, blocking her path. She finally met his gaze, and just as she knew they would, those gray-green eyes pierced her chest and wound around her lungs.

“You read my mind.” He put the truck in park and shut down the engine. “I was just thinking a run would feel good.” He stood from the cab and rounded the bed. “Want company?”

“No, I want peace.”

She turned away and felt his hand on her back. Just a light touch. “Hey, come on.” His voice was overly congenial, surly trying to smooth the rough patch they’d had that morning. “I can be ready in three minutes.”

She gritted her teeth and turned back to him, doing her best to pretend he didn’t affect her. “Nathan, really. We don’t need to make this harder than—”

“Rachel.” He grinned, held his hands out. “It’s just a run.”

Okay, maybe she was holding on to something that he’d already let go of. Conflict always rolled off a guy’s back faster than a woman’s. She certainly didn’t want to make a problem where there wasn’t one. “Three minutes. Then I leave.”

He jogged to his cabin, and Rachel used his truck to stretch her calves and hamstrings, wishing she had the guts to be a bitch and just tell him no. Her life would be so much easier if she were.

Or if she weren’t so attracted to him.

Or if she hadn’t noticed a new lightness in his eyes. In his voice.

Or if he weren’t so damned adorable when he was trying to be…well, adorable.

When he returned, he stopped three feet away and rested an arm on the truck bed. “It’s a gorgeous night for a run on the beach.”

“No. Josh already completely messed up my schedule with that trip into town that took way longer than it should have. I’m behind on everything.” She started toward the trailhead.

Nathan fell into step beside her, then cut in front of her with a playful spark in his eyes. One she hadn’t seen since that first night together. “It’s going to be a beautiful sunset over the ocean. I won’t get many more chances to see those.”

She crossed her arms. “That is so cheap.”

He twisted his mouth, half smile, half smirk. “Cheap but true.”

There was something different about him. Something…looser. Easier. More open. And it only made her want to find out why.

“It’s only a fifteen-minute drive,” he said with the flash of his flirty smile—something else she hadn’t seen since the bar. And it still hit her chest dead center.

She exhaled heavily. “There, run, back. Period.”

“You got it.” He beamed, and Rachel’s stomach floated.

He started the drive quiet, tuning the radio to one of the only stations that came in, a contemporary country station, and relaxing into the soothing drive on the sparsely populated two-lane highway through the rolling green hills toward the ocean.

“What did you think of San Luis?” he asked, naming the town she’d visited with Josh. And if he knew she’d gone there, he knew who she’d gone with. Rachel’s stomach muscles tightened in preparation for an argument, and she second-guessed her decision to put herself in a situation where they could argue freely.

“It’s really cute,” she said. “Have you been there?”

“I stopped on my way back from Santa Ynez. There are a lot of nice towns along this part of the coast.”

When he didn’t bring up Josh, she relaxed into the seat, soaking in his smile, those warm green-gray eyes, the stubble on his chin. There was something about knowing he would be gone soon, knowing she wouldn’t see him again that made her want to memorize him. “It’s a beautiful area.”

“I can help you in the office when we get back. Get you caught up.”

She slanted a sidelong glance at him. “Who are you, and what did you do with the real Nathan?”

He smirked. “Fine, fine. I’ve never been all that great with paperwork anyway. Speaking of, thanks for getting that SOP and the action plan past Marx.”

“I didn’t do anything but type up what you already had. You did all the work.”

“‘You’re welcome’ works fine too,” he said.

A moment of silence stretched as they turned off the smaller road and onto the Pacific Coast Highway, then drove only a short distance to a strip of dirt leading to an open beachfront and parked.

“God,” she said, looking through the windshield at the smooth surf and the coral hues of the setting sun. “That’s crazy-beautiful.”

“Yeah.”

His soft response made her turn to glance at him, and she found him already looking directly at her. Heat rushed her face before she could even think to control it. She looked away and reached for the door handle. “It’s going to be a beautiful run. How did you find this?”

He got out and rounded the hood, and she walked ahead of him down the narrow footpath.

“Google maps.”

That sounded suspicious, but once her feet hit the sand, she didn’t care how he’d found this little slice of heaven. The air was cool, the beach empty, the sun heavy in the multicolored sky, the surf quiet. Rachel already felt her tension melting away.

“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.

When he pulled a lighter from his pocket, she said, “We don’t need a fire for five minutes.”

“I’ll smother it with sand.” He lit the paper and sat beside her, pulling off his own shoes and socks. “It’s all about the ambience.”

“Ambience? I never would have imagined that word was in your vocabulary.”

“I don’t blame you.” He grabbed the bottle of wine behind him and turned around with an opener and plastic cups.