Page 66 of Resist

“That’s kind of stupid.”

And before I can correct her on using the word stupid, Ryker pipes up. “I was out running, and it got really hot.”

“So you took your shirt off?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Then where is it?” she asks, and the laugh he emits says her question caught him off guard.

“Um . . .”

“I like to run too,” she says, moving past the shirt topic just as quickly as she broached it.

“Yes, Lucy has one of the fastest times for a lap at her school.” She holds her hand up, and I high-five the achievement she’s so very proud of.

“You do?” Ryker says, slapping her hand as well. “I bet you’re faster than me.”

“I am. I know it.”

Ryker sputters a laugh, and his smile lights up his face in a way I’ve never seen before. He’s relaxed, without the usual lines of stress that crease his forehead or the calculating scrutiny that typically owns his eyes.

“Is that your bike?” Ryker asks, cutting the debate off and rising to his feet.

Lucy nods emphatically. “Yes. The wheels—the extra ones—have superpowers,” she says, referring to the training wheels and my explanation to her of why she needs them. When her hand slides into Ryker’s without him even hitching a step, I just draw in an unsteady breath.

How easy it is for her to trust.

How easy it is for all kids to trust.

“Superpowers, huh?”

“Yes. I can ride without my feet on the pedals.”

“No way!”

“Yep.” Lucy’s hands are on her hips as Ryker squats down and pretends to inspect all the parts of her bike.

“Wow. This sure is a cool bike. Do you think I’d fit on it?”

Lucy’s giggled “No” floats through the air.

“Well, can I see you ride it, then? I want to see the superpowers.”

Lucy’s eyes grow big as she looks to me for consent, and when I nod she lets out a whoop, gives Ryker another high five, and then methodically gets on her bike. She starts to pedal, and Ryker walks beside her as she goes. He shouts words of encouragement, exclamations of awe, and the two of them laugh as she makes her way around the path.

I stare at them, my life and my . . . I don’t know what Ryker is. My unexpected? Because for a man who is determined for me to be his date—his escort—this sure doesn’t feel like it.

And I’m scared to admit what this feels like. Normal? Comfortable?

Your mind’s running, Vaughn. It’s running away to places you needn’t dare go. He’s a client. He’s a ruthless one who not only has threatened your livelihood but now knows about the one thing in your life that you’d give up anything—do anything—for. Your one vulnerability.

Yet as I watch him with her—laughing, joking, playing—I have a hard time seeing that side of him. And an even harder time not softening toward him more than I already have.

“You go around again!” he tells Lucy as he grabs his chest, pretending to be exhausted from keeping up with her before collapsing on the grass at my feet.

Lucy giggles and meets my gaze to make sure I nod and tell her it’s okay to go around again. As she starts to pedal, I look down and meet the upside-down face of Ryker.

“Thank you.” It’s automatic on my tongue with a sincerity I rarely feel. “Most people don’t know how to be with her. They say her specialness doesn’t bug them, but you can tell they are uncomfortable and don’t know what to do . . . but you—”