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“No, but he’ll keep working remotely for me. My guys will patrol the places the cameras can’t see then provide physical security for the guests and the event,” he said. “Don’t worry, we’ll stay out of sight.”

“That’s fine,” she said, and pressed deeper into the seat. “God, I love seat warmers.”

He took the turn up to the security facility and glanced at her to see her eyes drifting shut. The long lashes lay on her pale, smooth cheeks. He dragged his eyes away, mocking himself for noticing a woman’s fucking skin. He was losing it, and there were only two good ways to get a grip. A long fuck session, or an hour of squats and bench presses.

“Are you too tired to go to your practice?” he asked, proud that he kept any sign of eagerness out of his voice.

Unfortunately, her dedication to her roller derby teammates matched her passion for Cavendish.

“Hell no!” she replied, sitting up in the seat. “This might be the last practice for a while.”

Ryder forced a smile, hiding his disappointment. He told himself it was for the best that they didn’t get any closer than they already were. He knew more about Nita than he should, which meant he was getting dangerously close to violating his personal rule of no emotional involvement.

“Good. I’m ready to go whenever you are,” he replied. “Or is it too early?”

“No, I’d love to get there early,” she enthused, pulling out her phone and tapping. “I owe my friend’s daughter a skating lesson. Do you need to do anything before we go, though?”

“Nope. I’ve done as much as I can until those cameras get here tomorrow. And my coat’s already in the trunk. Do you need to change, or…?”

“I’m good. I just need to grab my skates and my bag,” she replied, her hand hovering over the door handle as they pulled up to the rocky hill and the door to the facility. “I’ll just be a second.”

She jumped out and slammed the door, racing to the metal entrance and swiping her wristband to get in.

Deep down, Ryder couldn’t shake the desire to unravel the layers that comprised Nita, even if it remained an unfulfilled desire. Maybe this was a different kind of edging. Being unquestionably attracted to someone but holding off on satisfying that need to know them better.

As promised, she was back in a flash, flinging two heavy bags on the back seat and returning to the passenger seat.

“Thanks again for coming along,” she said as he reversed away from the building and headed away. “Can I buy you a late lunch on the way?”

“You don’t have to, but I’ve been taught to never say no to a lady,” he replied.

“Wow,” she murmured in a sarcastic drawl.

“Are you surprised that I’m letting you buy me lunch?” he asked, trying to temper his smile.

“I’m surprised because I think you just called me a lady,” she said, then punched him hard enough on his arm to make it tingle.

“You’re welcome. I think,” he said, then couldn’t help his grin.

18

Nita sat in the plush leather seat of the Mercedes Benz, her fingers clamped on her egg salad on sourdough sandwich as she glanced around the parking lot. No sign of Luke’s oversized truck. Maybe she’d been worried about nothing?

She should have been relieved, but she felt dumb instead. She’d brought Ryder here for nothing.

She raised the last half of her sandwich for a bite, the tangy sourdough tempting her senses. She stole a quick glance at Ryder, who sat beside her, his eyes fixed on her. His roast beef on brie was nothing but a memory, his hand rising to wipe the last crumb of it away from the corner of his mouth.

“Pretty fucking good for a sandwich, am I right?” she murmured before tearing off a bite.

“Best sandwich I ever had,” he admitted, but she could tell he’d been about to say something else. Probably something about why he was there.

“So, this guy Luke. You said he’s never gotten physical with you?” he asked.

She tipped her head from side to side as she chewed, thinking of all the times Luke had grabbed her arm or shoved her shoulder. They had all started out as loving gestures that had somehow turned mean, especially when she hadn’t replied to one of his texts, or he wanted her to go home instead of hanging out with the girls for a drink.

She swallowed then replied, “No really.” She didn’t want to exaggerate anything. It’s not like Luke had punched her in the face or anything. All of her bruises came from derby bouts.

“Not really,” he repeated, and his jutting chin told her he was interpreting her words differently. “So he’s sort of gotten physical. Does he carry a weapon?” he continued.

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