Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
He nods and swallows another bite of bacon. He hasn’t complimented anything I’ve made but he hasn’t complained about it either. Should I count that as a win?
“Is it the Cessna?” I ask. He’s so hard to talk to. Sometimes, I think maybe he likes me. Other times, he just seems to tolerate my presence. I wish more than anything that I knew how to read Ryker.
He nods again, and I finally give up. He obviously doesn’t want to talk to me. Why should he? I’m just the girl who interrupted his life and brought trouble to his doorstep. He’s probably counting down the minutes until I’m gone.
I stand and gather the plates. I’m rinsing them in the sink when Ryker comes up behind me, like last night.
“I could show her to you,” his voice is a quiet rumble. How is it that everything he says sounds so damn sexy? I’d love to hear him narrating one of those dirty books I enjoy listening to.
I squeeze my thighs together, wondering if my panties will survive the ride. I definitely shouldn’t have chosen my tight yoga pants today. He’ll know in five seconds just how turned on he makes me.
“Come away with me on an adventure, tigress.” His fingertips trail down the back of my t-shirt. Even with the material between us, his touch brands me. But this is a different kind of branding than the one I had. This is one I actually want.
“What’s her name?” I ask Ryker as he pulls his truck to a stop in front of a small building that reminds me of a big garden shed. He said it’s called a hangar and pilots use them to store their planes.
“My Queen,” he answers casually.
I was worried the hour-long drive to the plane would be a bit awkward, but Ryker and I passed it in comfortable silence. I work to keep my tone light and teasing, “So Luna is the love of your life and the plane is your queen? Any other females in your life I should know about?”
“I have a guardian angel,” he says.
I’m not sure if he’s talking about a person or an actual angel. Either way, I’d never mock someone for their beliefs. Mom believed in angels. Now I can only hope she’s one. If she is, I hope she can’t see me. She’d probably weep to know the horrible things I’ve seen and done. “I bet your angel is pretty.”
“The prettiest,” he murmurs. “Now, come on, I’ll take you for a ride if you want.”
I want a ride with Ryker, but something tells me that we’re talking about very different things. Still, I unbuckle my seatbelt and follow him into the hangar. He pauses outside to greet another man. He just waves briefly before hustling me inside. He murmurs something under his breath about not trusting Howard.
I don’t know what that means, and I don’t ask any questions. It’s a skill I developed from the way I grew up. Questions draw attention to you. But if you’re quiet, you can learn a lot about your enemy.
My mouth drops as soon as I see the red and white plane. It’s so much bigger than I imagined. Standing next to it makes me feel tiny. “This is yours?”
He pats the side of the plane. “It’s the Cessna 172 Skyhawk I told you about.”
We’d talked about it briefly at the party. Neither of us could afford to be out on the balcony too long. It would attract unwanted attention. But something about those stolen moments together made me feel closer to Ryker than I ever have another person. It was like we saw into each other’s souls. That kind of connection is rare…and dangerous.
“It’s beautiful.” My words make him stand a little taller and I reach out and run my hand along the plane. Cool metal greets my fingertips. “You’re really going to take me up in her?”
“As soon as I get through the pre-flight check,” he answers.
“Can I help?” I move to stand closer to him. I’m fascinated by this machine and the fact that Ryker knows how to handle it. “Did you learn to fly in the military?”
“This is just a hobby. It has come in handy a couple of times. Now the first rule of the preflight inspection is removing jewelry. It can get snagged while you’re working.” He removes his rings and pockets them. Then reaches for his leather wrist cuffs. He pockets them too but not before I see the scars. His skin is mottled and damaged in these places. Not the neat lines of someone who’s tried to end it all. No, this is different. Maybe more like he was captive at some point.
I quickly drag my gaze up even as my heart fills with sadness for him. What exactly did he see? Is this the reason for the pain that haunts him? Is his angel still watching over him?