Playing Dirty (Risky Business, #2)(23)

My anger drained away.

“Ryker’s never forgiven me,” he said. “I’ve tried to tell him what was really going on, how she lied to us and was using us, but he’s refused to listen to me. He’s convinced I’m lying to him. Eventually, I gave up trying.”

“Do you blame yourself for Natalie’s death?” I asked.

His eyes were empty when he answered. “I should have listened to her, believed her. But she made me choose between being with her or lying to my best friend. I felt like I’d already betrayed Ryker. I wasn’t about to keep doing it. It was a no-win situation.”

It was heartbreaking to watch him as he told the story. The guilt emanating from him was like a living thing, despite the stoic way in which he spoke. Amy was right; it wasn’t kind to speak ill of the dead, but Natalie sounded like she’d been one really messed-up person.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “What does this have to do with me?”

“I just thought you should know the whole history before you got further involved with Ryker,” he said.

“You mean, in case Ryker’s really just using me to get back at you for what happened with Natalie.” A suspicion I’d once had myself, though it had faded as the weeks with Ryker had passed.

Parker’s expression didn’t change. “The thought had occurred to me. He knows, or suspects, how much you mean to me. Just like he knows where I dock my boat.”

“So you’re saying he planned on you seeing us together Saturday?” I asked. “That’s ludicrous. We’ve been dating for months. Why now? And besides, that wasn’t even his boat.”

“I just want you to be careful,” Parker said. “I’d hate to see you hurt.”

“I think that’s an awfully big reach—and a huge insult to me—to imply he’s just using me. You say you didn’t like seeing us together. Why? Because you think he’s using me? Or is there another reason?” I held my breath, waiting to see what he’d say. What did I want him to say? Yeah, I didn’t want to think about that.

“You want to hear that I’m jealous,” he stated.

“I didn’t say that.” But yeah, okay.

He moved toward me, his long legs covering the distance between us in the span of one heartbeat to the next. Leaning down, he put his lips by my ear. He was so close, I could smell his cologne and feel the heat of his body. My eyes drifted closed of their own accord.

When he spoke, his warm breath brushed my skin and I shivered.

“I’ve wanted you since the day you walked in my office,” he said. “And every day, every moment, since.” I could have sworn his lips touched my neck, and I forgot how to breathe. Then he was out the door and gone.

*

I couldn’t sleep that night. I was still upset about how dinner had gone and I tossed and turned, doubts as to whether I should continue seeing Ryker spinning in my head. Of course, he may not want to see me anymore either. It felt like one of those milestones in a relationship where we could either turn the next corner or it would go down in flames, and I didn’t know which way it was going to go.

To my surprise, I heard the faint click of the lock on my front door opening. After a moment, I heard the familiar sounds of Ryker setting his weapon, holster, and handcuffs on the kitchen counter. A thrill went through me that he’d come, but also a whisper of caution. Was this a sign? Or just a booty call?

To avoid succumbing to the latter, I scrambled out of bed, hurriedly running my fingers through my hair to straighten it. Sliding my feet into my Ugg slippers—best things ever—I ventured into the living room.

It was chilly and I shivered. The pajama shorts and tank I wore provided little warmth without a blanket over me.

Ryker was standing in the kitchen, the outline of his body dimly lit by the one light I left on over the stove. He was looking at his phone, but glanced up when I got closer. He slid the phone into his pocket as his gaze raked me from head to foot and back. A shiver danced across my skin and it wasn’t from the cold.

“I didn’t know if you were coming,” I said. “After dinner tonight, I didn’t even know if we were still dating.”

Ryker leaned back against the counter with a sigh. “I’d hoped we could discuss this later,” he said. “It’s late.”

Nausea churned in my stomach. Oh God, was he breaking up with me?

“So you thought you’d pop by for a sleepover, and then break up with me?” I asked. “I don’t think so. I’d rather we discuss it now.” No sense prolonging the inevitable. “You accused my father of being a mob boss.”

Ryker scrubbed a hand over his face, glancing away from me. I waited. That had been a pretty big accusation to level and I hadn’t taken it lightly.

“Sage, the Muccino family is huge in Chicago. I don’t have to tell you that.”

I shrugged. “My father has five brothers. They all run their own businesses, started from the ground up. They help each other out from time to time.” The list of cousins and relatives was endless on my dad’s side.

“Our organized crime division has been keeping files on them for years,” he continued. “You don’t think your father’s paid off government officials to get the kind of monopoly he has over the liquor distribution in Chicago?”