“I’m fine.” He could sense she was hedging as shecontinued, “Just … figured we could set a time. For our next date.”
He let the pause stretch, listening to the cadence of her voice. It sounded normal. It also didn’t. “Are we okay?” Fuck him. Was she upset with how the night went? She didn’t give off those vibes.
“Okay? What? Of course, we’re okay. I’m so happy about us. I just need to talk to you about something, and I’d rather not do it over text. It isn’t anything about us, I promise. Something here at the mine.” The rush in her voice and the sincerity of her words helped to relax him.
Relax? Yeah, the uncertainty had piled on fast, and her answer took a fuckton of never-before-imagined crap off his shoulders. Damn, his ass puckered tight and fast on that one. Fuck him, he was going crazy. Sun stroke. He’d blame it on the sun. Yep. He wasn’t freaking the fuck out because of innocent comments. He was stroking out. That was his story.
“All right,” he said finally. “Tonight work for you?”
Her exhale sounded lighter. “Tonight works.”
“I’ll pick you up at the camp gate after I wrap here.”
“Perfect. See you then.”
The call ended, but the faint tension in her voice lingered in the back of his mind.
Jug glanced over. “That Riley?”
Talon pocketed the phone. “Yeah.”
Jug’s grin was slow. “Date night?”
Talon’s tone stayed even. “Yeah. Date night.”
The roadto the mining camp twisted through low, rocky hills, the kind that radiated heat long after the sun dropped to the horizon. By the time Talon had pulled up to the camp gate, the air had cooled a bit.
Riley was waiting, leaning against the fence in dark jeans, hair pulled back, a loose shirt tucked casually at the waist. The guard at the gate pretended not to notice the way she straightened when Talon’s SUV rolled up.
“You’re late,” she said as she climbed in.
Talon checked the clock. “Right on time.”
She buckled her seatbelt, giving him a sideways smile. “I was ready early.”
“Then you’re just impatient.”
Her laugh was soft, and it rolled through him in a way that had nothing to do with the desert air.
They drove to the small town thirty kilometersaway. It was neutral ground where Guardian and mining company politics didn’t hang in the air. The restaurant was quiet, low-lit, the kind of place with cold beer, good steak, and tables tucked far enough apart to keep conversations private.
Over dinner, Riley was relaxed, her eyes bright, as her conversation effortlessly shifted from his day to sharp observations about environmental compliance. “… so I tell Marisol that the shipment invoices look perfect this quarter, and she nearly falls over.” Riley shook her head, sipping her wine. “She thinks I’m joking. I’m not sure what that says about our usual numbers.”
Talon’s brow lifted faintly. “Sounds like you’re keeping them on their toes.”
“That’s the job,” she said lightly. “Make sure they’re doing the right thing, keep everyone happy, keep the board happy …” She swirled her wine, her voice trailing just enough.
He leaned forward and steepled his fingers. “That’s a lot of pressure for one person.”
Her smile came quick, practiced. “It’s what I signed up for.”
“You’re good at it.”
That earned him a softer smile, one that felt closer to the woman she was.
“Tell me what’s bothering you.”
She glanced at him, her expression thoughtful. “You know I’m worried.”
