Kaitlyn Rice - Renegade

He shrugged, and lifted a hip to slip the green square into his back pocket. “I was overdue, anyway. What else?”

She almost giggled. The next suggestion was the coup de grâce. “The motorcycle.”

His eyes grew serious. “What about it?”

“It doesn’t mesh with a professional appearance, and it would remind most folks of your renegade tendencies.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What else?”

She leaned in and spoke softly. “Watch what you do. Word gets around, even in a town the size of Kirkwood. But you know that.”

His eyes bored into hers, and she recognized her friend.

She also recognized the pain of betrayal, but she wasn’t sure whose—his or hers.

She hopped off the chair and started pacing. “Attending a few civic events wouldn’t be a bad idea,” she said. “And start looking for pet charities.”

“Sure,” he said, causing her to stop walking and study his face. He sounded too agreeable. “Is that all?”

Tracy noted the angled grin. The laughing eyes. The rise and fall of that muscled chest. She sighed. Some things, she wouldn’t ask him to change. “For now.”

“I can do every single thing you named, except one,” he said as he stood and tipped the trash upright.

“What’s that?”

“I won’t lose the bike.”

She shrugged. “Is it worth having affluent members of the community avoid your business because they think you’re a member of some biker gang?”

“Absolutely.”

She opened her mouth, prepared to argue, but he didn’t give her time.

“I could show you why I want to ride it,” he said.

She laughed. He’d sounded just like the boy who had been her constant companion through childhood. Until he’d reached puberty and discovered other girls.

And then her sister.

Tracy’s smile tightened until her cheeks hurt. “That’s not necessary,” she said, wincing at her prim tone.

Her place in Riley’s adult life was professional, at best. She couldn’t allow herself to feel close to him.

And she needed to get out of here.

She barely had the brainpower to further her plan, but she knew it’d be wise to continue her show of acceptance. As if it were base in a childhood game of tag, she backed up to the purple door and put her hand on the knob. “I’ll send over a fee schedule,” she said as she scanned the room for her car keys. “And give you the weekend to think about it.”

Procrastinating again, but it was the only option she had. Since the office visit hadn’t provided her with a clue to Riley’s motives, she’d have to exhaust a few sources from home. She’d do an Internet search and make a phone call or two, then on Monday morning she could hand Booker a list of all the reasons she couldn’t take the job. Maybe he would take pity on her and do the consultation himself.

Or better yet, maybe Riley would have gotten into trouble by then and left.

The keys were nowhere. Tracy remembered that she’d transferred them to her briefcase after she parked. The same case that was now around front on the light table.

So much for Ms. Superefficient.

“You’d need to know what sort of expenses you would incur by using me,” she said. As Tracy heard the mischosen words fall out of her mouth, she cringed, waiting for the corners of Riley’s mouth to lift.

She wasn’t disappointed. He had his mischievous smile down to a science. “I’m sure you’re worth any price.”

She didn’t return the smile. “Although it does seem as though you could benefit from help with organization, I’m not sure it would be wise for the two of us to team up.”

At his questioning expression, she explained, “This is a big job for an inexperienced organizer.”

He shook his head. “The gold-star girl could have organized this office at fifteen.”

The cornflakes fluttered as Tracy stared out at the clutter of Riley’s front office. He was right. That was the sort of turmoil she could handle. Her fingers were practically itching to sort through binders, revamp the filing system and map out the most efficient use of space.

She offered him a brisk smile. “I’m going back around front to retrieve my briefcase, but you don’t need to walk me out. Will you be here Monday?”

He nodded.

“I’ll call you then,” she promised.

Finally she turned the door handle and stepped outside. Before the door closed between them, she couldn’t resist a final look back.

Her heart quickened at the too-long hair and wickedly handsome expression—just as she’d known it would. And when he winked at her, she felt a definite pang of desire.

Which was exactly the sort of turmoil she couldn’t handle.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.