Playing Dirty (Risky Business, #2)(6)

I supposed there were worse ways to spend a Saturday than lounging on a boat on Lake Michigan with my boyfriend.

I slipped my bikini on and wore my shorts and a T-shirt over it, layering on a light button-down shirt in case it got chilly this evening. I grabbed my sun bag with my hat and sunscreen, slipped on a pair of sandals, and was ready to go.

As expected, McClane was exceptionally enthusiastic to see me when we arrived at Ryker’s house, and I grimaced as he tried to lick any part of me he could reach.

“McClane! Sit!”

The dog obeyed Ryker’s command—eventually—his tail thumping the ground and his tongue lolling as he gazed up at me in adoration.

“If you’d just say hello to him, he’d leave you alone,” Ryker said, heading past me into the hallway that led to his bedroom.

“That is so not true,” I muttered.

“I heard that,” Ryker called out. I shot a glare down the hall.

Gingerly, I patted McClane’s head a couple of times. “Hi, McClane. Now stop trying to lick me.” As I’d feared, petting him only encouraged his enthusiasm. I squealed in dismay as he jumped up, placing his paws on my shoulders. A big warm puff of dog breath blew right in my face and I nearly gagged.

“McClane, get off her,” Ryker said, walking past again and snapping his fingers. The dog reluctantly sat back down on the floor, his ears drooping. The dejection on his face almost made me feel bad for him. Almost. I heard the sound of dog food rattling in the kitchen and so did McClane. His ears perked up and he was off like a shot.

I waited, not daring to get within McClane’s line of sight again, and Ryker came back from the kitchen. He’d changed into a white tank, a worn pair of jeans, and as I’d done, he’d thrown on an unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt over the top. His dog tags glinted in the sunlight as he climbed on his motorcycle and slid on mirrored shades.

Yum.

“Let’s go, babe.”

No need to tell me twice.

I put on the helmet I so disliked and climbed behind him on the back of the bike—a mode of transportation I was gradually becoming accustomed to, but doubted I’d ever feel safe doing—and wrapped my arms around his chest to hold on. It was hot today, already pushing the mid-eighties, and I could feel sweat trickling down my back.

Thirty minutes later, we were pulling in to a lot and parking. My legs felt numb from riding the bike and my knees were rubbery. The sudden quiet after the engine had been roaring in my ears was a welcome relief.

“So who’s the buddy?” I asked, following Ryker as he took my hand and began walking down the pier. I could smell the water now and there was a hard breeze blowing, easing the heat a bit.

“His name’s Troy and I served with him,” Ryker said, alluding to when he’d been in the Marines. “He’s a mechanic now, only works on the high-end luxury vehicles. Does pretty well, I think.” He stopped and pointed. “That’s his boat there.”

Shading my eyes since not even my dark sunglasses were doing the trick in the blazing sunshine, I looked where he was pointing. It was a beautiful cabin cruiser yacht, large enough for several people, and spotless. Yes, it looked like Troy did pretty well, indeed.

“C’mon,” he said, tugging my hand.

There were three women and two men already on board, along with two kids running around.

“Hey, Dean!” One of the women approached us. She was wearing a one-piece suit with a pair of cutoff shorts, and was obviously several months pregnant. She gave Ryker a hug. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, Sammy,” he said. “How you been feeling?”

“I’m doing well, thanks,” she said, resting a hand on her stomach. She glanced expectantly at me.

“This is my girlfriend, Sage,” Ryker said.

“Nice to meet you,” I said as I shook hands with Sammy. She was a cute girl, probably about mid-twenties like me.

“Same here,” she said with a friendly smile.

“Where’s Cody?” Ryker asked.

“He’s still at work. He should be here soon.”

“Hey, Dean! About time you got here.”

One of the men had approached. He was a big guy with massive biceps and a bald head gleaming in the sun. His sunglasses hid his eyes from me, but his white teeth flashed in a grin. “Looks like you been busy.”

“Tyrone, my man, this is my girl Sage.”

“’Bout time you brought a lady ’round here,” Tyrone said. Rather than take the hand I held out, he wrapped an arm around me and squeezed. “You need to make an honest man outta him, Sage.”

I grinned back, liking Tyrone immediately. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Tyrone, leave the girl alone.”

I turned to see who I assumed was Tyrone’s wife. She slapped his arm playfully and he let me go, then introduced herself as Anisha.

The last couple on the boat were the boat owners—Amy and Troy—who also were the parents of the twins, Robin and Ricky. They were just as nice as the other friends of Ryker’s that I’d met. Cody showed up pretty quickly after that and it was obvious he was smitten with his pregnant wife, solicitously making sure she was comfortable and had everything she might need within easy reach.

And only as I watched Ryker help Troy unmoor the boat did it occur to me that all of Ryker’s friends were married, several already with children. Could it be I’d actually found that elusive creature … a man who wanted to settle down? We hadn’t talked marriage and family, as I was a faithful adherent to the rule to never be the first to bring that up. Too many commitment-phobic men ran scared at the mere mention of the M-word.