George didn't feel the need to say more. The team had their orders, their jobs and there was nothing more to say.
"Three days. Back here at 11:30 a.m. I want us ready to make a plan."
As everyone started to filter out she remained in her seat. Her gaze drifted subtlety to where Riordan sat. He wasn't moving as of yet and George thought perhaps he might have some questions about what sort of vehicle he was supposed to procure.
Or at least that was what she told herself she was waiting for. She would never admit to anyone that she was hoping to talk to him alone. It had been some time since they had talked and this place had a way of making George sentimental. She told herself she picked it because it was the most secure location for this discussion.
George told herself a lot of things.
Riordan told himself a lot of things too but he didnât seem to repress as many things as George did. He gave brief waves and head nods to everyone as they exited then as the last of them left his eyes slid directly over to George as he tried to suppress a grin.
âGood job with the prep. Youâve come a long way since the day we first met.â
He kept it nice and simple. No pressure, no promises though if sheâd ever finally let down those damn walls of hers he might push harder.
Well, he wouldnât play fair but he wouldnât push, either.
Standing up, he came up behind her and pulled her hair over her shoulder so his hands could settle upon her shoulders. His fingers pressed and circled into her muscles, easing out the tension that he knew sheâd be holding in her neck and back.
George raised an eyebrow at his compliment. A smile tug at the corner's of her mouth as he stood and came up behind her. She was about to turn to look at him when her hair moved and hands rested on her shoulders. George swallowed but found her mouth slightly dry. Damn you. He always did things like this to her. Made it hard to focus.
Strong fingers found knots in her neck and into her shoulders that George wasn't aware had formed. Her eyes closed and despite her willpower she began to relax under his hands.
"Different sort of job this time. I haven't changed that much have I? You haven't changed. You never do." George let out a small chuckle. There was a pause. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as Riordan hit a knot in her shoulder.
âYou havenât changed?â He mused playfully, suppressing laughter though it could be heard in his tone.
âEverything about you has changed. The girl I hired to wait on my customers when this place first opened? When it was just a handful of us?â Shaking his head though she couldnât see it, he grinned as he pressed his thumbs on either side of her spine and ran them up to her hairline in one smooth, steady stroke.
âI see her in you still, sometimes. Not often, though. The girl back then wouldnât be able to pull the kind of contracts you get for CKSD. Wouldnât be able to negotiate with corp big wigs and have them begging at your doorstep for your favor.â
George sighed and tried to shift but when Riordan's thumbs pressed up her spine she stopped moving. She was annoyed that he thought she had changed so much and that she couldn't tell if it was for the better or not.
"Alright so the girl you first met here wouldn't have let you rub her back but you mean there was never an inkling that I'd be more than a waitress?"
Her head tipped a bit downwards. She normally avoided letting someone get so close or so physical but like with everything else Riordan was different.
"We have come far but I wouldn't say people are begging at my doorstep. No one can find it." She chuckled openly now. "Mark saw to that."
George was deflecting, turning the conversation from herself to others.
"What do you think of the team?"
Riordan tsked her change in topics, reverting back to her first question instead of allowing her to shift the focus of the conversation from herself.
âYou should know better than that, George. Hell, Iâm surprised the woman in front of me if letting me rub her back. Progress!â Teasing one second, serious the next. âNo, the girl I met seemed more than a waitress even when she was a waitress.â
He left it at that. Everytime their conversations got too deep or went too far into the unknown then somehow they ended back up at square one so heâd take baby steps this time.
Progress.
He gave one last deep rub, circling his fingertips into her golden flesh before easing his hands off of her shoulders. Riordan circled, sitting in the chair beside her and propping his feet upon the table once more as he leaned back, pondering her last question a bit as a relaxed silence slipped between them.
George stiffened a little under his fingers. Her eyes narrowed a little, though Riordan couldn't see them. Her back went straighter as he came to sit beside her. He was relaxed while George slipped once more into a business-like demeanor.
I will need to be more guarded.
She realized just how careful she would need to be. She had been too comfortable, letting him rub her shoulders. Perhaps it was this place and all the memories it held within its walls or maybe she was just tired. The reason did not matter but the fact that they would be working so closely for a length of time meant caution was needed. Rio could get under her skin in all the ways George was so careful to protect against.
âEclectic.â A deep rumbling laugh shook his torso and he met her gaze as grew more serious. âA good team for the job. Jobs? I still canât believe youâre pulling three at once, technically. Parnasse seems either wounded or socially inept. Classic hacker stereotype but I donât believe it. Intelligent as anyone Iâve ever met, with respect to a select few.â
His dimples showed as he flashed another grin at George, proving that she was one of those select few before he continued on.
âFalke. Well, fuck, itâs Falke. Iâm pretty sure even if he was close to passing out and surrounded by enemies he would rip out his own spine to beat people to death with it.â
Amused at the visualization, he rested his jaw in the curve of his hand again. It was a pose he deferred to quite frequently when relaxed and his brow furrowed.
George moved one shoulder, a half committal shrug. "The contracts line up just right. I have the resources and people to put together the team why not take advantage?"
She looked him over somewhat critically. "Yes the team is eclectic but very, very good." She tapped a finger on the table. "What is with the little frown? You will give yourself wrinkles if you keep that up."
One dark eyebrow lifted in curiosity. He seemed relaxed but there seemed to be more there. "You think I have missed something?"
This wasn't said with its normal sarcasm. Not with Riordan. They had known each other too long and George trusted him in a way that she trusted no one else in the world. It was the reason he could sometimes sneak behind her carefully placed wall.
He gave a subtle shake of his head though a smile threw off the seriousness of his look. âNot at all. Just wondering where it will all go to hell. Murphyâs Law and all.â Then he gave his own half-shrug and laughed. âCanât play the what ifs and alternate scenarios if we donât have all the information, though.â
The truth to his worries came out seconds later.
âMaybe you should sit this one out. Iâm sure thereâs a way for them to install cams everywhere so you can see how the newbie works out.â
She stared at him for a moment. "Sit this out? You better than anyone know what I have riding on this. Three contracts. Three."
It was George's turn to frown. "You don't want me looking over your shoulder? Is that it?"
She tried not to sound hurt or annoyed. Did her best to be calm and unreadable but there were hints of it if someone were looking and knew her, which of course he did.
Riordan reached up, smoothing his fingertips up along the sides of his nose, briefly pinching the bridge before smoothing them across his brows. The short span of time it took for him to complete the motion reined in his emotions so he didnât roll his eyes at her or chuckle at her conclusions.
âYou know better than that.â
His voice had dropped down. Even in the quiet stillness of the room, it wouldâve been hard to catch his words if they hadnât been sitting right next to one another.
After he eased the tension from his forehead, he settled his steely grey gaze upon her. âI worry about you, George.â
Both her eyebrows raised. "Worry? About me?"
This concept, this idea that he worried about her shook her more than George would have thought possible. She waved her hand as if to brush it off.
"There is nothing to worry about Riordan."
Her teeth clenched and she stared at him. "Why would you worry about me?"
Once again, he suppressed laughter. Sometimes he wondered if she really built her walls so incredibly thick and high that she didnât realize the signs flashing brightly right in front of her face. It could be partially his fault. He had taken to flirting with every woman that stumbled across his path but he had his reasons. George wouldâve turned tail and run if he had been more forward. He knew it by the way she talked of other men in her life, or lack thereof. He knew it by the way she used to flinch or tense her muscles when he first started touching her. Hell, giving her a massage in the early days of their friendship might have earned him a swift kick to the nuts.
Now, she still tensed but she was slowly letting him see more of the woman that she hid so carefully behind the barrier she had erected.
So, instead of professing feelings outright, he danced around the topic again. Sarcasm threaded through his voice as he answered her.
âObviously, I donât think youâre up for the job. Youâve spent too long in your cushy office at a desk, answering calls and keeping your contracts in order of priority. Everyone is going to be so worried about you watching their every move that youâre going to throw them off their game and itâs all going to go to hell.â
His eyes sought hers once more, capturing her gaze and forcing her to acknowledge him before the faintest hint of a smile curved his lips.
âNow stop grinding your teeth and acting like an ass, doll. Iâm worried about your safety and I have every right to be. You are by no means fragile or made of glass but if anything were to happen to you I would upend the entire combat zone in order to exact my vengeance.â
Then, acting casually, as if nothing of import had been discussed, Riordan leaned forward and grasped one of the mochas that Falke had delivered to them earlier. Taking a sip, the sweetened coffee was barely lukewarm but still palatable and he eased back into his seat once more.
She almost rolled her eyes. Almost. If it had been anybody else the sarcasm would have made her leave. She had zero tolerance for pandering and crap like that. George knew he was playing more than anything. His eyes focused on her and she didn't look away.
"I'm the ass?" He took the coffee as if it were nothing, as if his words were tossed around lightly. George licked her lips. "Nothing will happen to me. I have to be there."
Her eyes shifted, looking down just briefly. The barest hint of doubt. George looked up at him again. "The only way to make sure each contract is met to the letter is to see it first hand. Only way to see Atticus work is in person. Don't worry, I wouldn't want you to play martyr on my account. Too many women would mourn you."
Her head turned. She wasn't sure why she went there but she had and there was no taking it back. "Look. I don't need a babysitter. Never have."
George stood. Her chair slid out behind her. She couldn't bring herself to look at Riordan yet. "You shouldn't worry about me."
He barely prevented a scowl from gracing his mouth as she took his comments in the wrong direction of where they were intended and his stare hardened as she threw in the jab about women mourning his absence.
âIf I donât worry about you then who else will? Obviously not yourself.â
Well, that hadnât quite reversed the course of the conversation and steered it back to safer ground, had it?
He rubbed his hand over his face again and practically growled. She had a way of driving him insane, in more ways than one, whether she knew it or not.
âGod damn it, George. Why is it such a surprise to have someone care about you?â
Her head snapped sharply to face him. She took two steps towards him. "I have always done fine before. Made it to where I am now."
He wanted to know why it surprised her, why it seemed to unnerve her that someone cared but George couldn't bring herself to let him behind her wall. Her hand came down on the table. The echo filled the small room.
"Look around you Rio, has much changed since we were kids? There is still the zone, still the gangers and in the end there is no one to care about you."
It was harsh and she almost instantly regretted it. George shook her head. Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "If people care they get hurt. Let them in and they hurt you."
Her eyes closed for a moment. When they opened again she forced them to meet his eyes. "I appreciate the concern but I'll be fine. I am there to observe, not engage. The danger isn't to me. Go protect Imogen or Teagan. They will need it."
She bit her tongue. The pain would force away any emotion that might surface as she tried to maintain her composure. "Is there anything else?"
Oh, that did it.
Riordan was suitably impressed by her defiant gestures and words. Hell, it was probably one of the things that he admired about her the most. He hadnât planned on this⊠interaction but she left him no choice. He had wanted to wait until after this message. A huge mission with three contracts, a new hire and more people than he had ever worked with at once. Why was he not simply manning up and giving a curt shake of his head before leaving the room? Leaving her all to herself since she so obviously wanted to be alone?
Because it was George, dammit.
He stood, placing them on equal footing with similar stances. He placed his coffee down upon the table and began circling the room. Placing the table between them so that he wouldnât strangle the ever-loving piss out of the stubborn, hard headed woman.
âBullshit.â
The word was sharp. His voice lowering as he lost the humorous undertones that always seemed to accompany everything that came out of his mouth.
âYouâre a coward.â
Even without looking at her, he could guess her reaction. She would tense. Her muscles becoming rigid as she steeled her spine and her eyes would take that flat, matte look that they always did when she held her anger in check.
âLet them in and they hurt you? You know how I feel about that sentiment. You wouldnât be where you were today unless you take risks. Chances. Did shit that too many other people were too scared to do. So why, when it comes to⊠friendsâŠâ There was a noticeable pause that was easily swept away by the onslaught. âDo you clam up? You trust your team with the biggest ploy of CKSDâs history but have someone give a shit about you?!â
He leaned forward, both palms flattened against the top of the table as he stared at her.
âBetter clam up. Better enter your emotional panic room.â
He kept his lips pressed closed but he ran his tongue against his teeth, silently willing her to come back at him with equal ferocity.
George tensed. Her whole body tightened. Her jaw clenched to the point of painful. "Bullshit? Coward?"
The words were whispered as her hands balled into fists. It took all her willpower not to reach across the table and smack him. George let a slow but hard exhale out through her nose as she stood straight. Her chin raised defiantly, just a little. There was a tremble there, almost imperceptable.
"Heaven forbid a woman keep her emotions in check. Going to call me an ice queen next? What about frigid bitch?"
George lifted a hand and waved it as if dismissing him. She turned her gaze from him. "If it is all bullshit, if I am such a coward then what are you doing here still? Why bother? I am sure there things that need the attention of the wonderfully charming Riordan. Don't waste your time here."
Better to do it this way. Keep him away. Better for both of them.
He was her friend, her oldest and most trusted but even here, even with him she couldn't let the wall down. It only led to pain and someone getting hurt. She wouldn't do that to him. Not Rio. She couldn't stand to know that she had caused him real hurt.
"This path leads to nothing good Rio. I've told you that. I wouldn't wish me on anyone." Her voice dropped and she closed her eyes. "You win. I am horrible and closed off. Anything else you want to tell me?"
He seethed.
Not at the fact that she called him Rio. No, she was one of a small handful of people that were allowed to use the nickname. He held his anger in check but at the same moment he knew they needed this. They had skated along the edges of their emotions for far too long.
His reason was because he didnât wish to push her into something she was uncomfortable with. And Georgeâs reason? George had shown her true colors. As altruistic as she tried to be, he could hear the pain lance through her voice as she spoke of being hurt. Of not being cared for. Pain worked both ways and she was as scared of being in pain as she was of causing that same pain in another person.
Sadly, Riordan wasnât always predictable and he rarely allowed others to plot and plan his life for him.
So when she asked if he had anything else that he wished to tell her he let out a low, slow chuckle.
âGeorge.â
The venom in his tone had left and he rose up a little, grasping onto the back of one of the chairs so tightly that his knuckles whitened.
âIâm still here because despite what you think⊠I will always be here for you. How many years have we known each other?â
His head cocked to the side as he studied her, forcing her to recall the time that theyâd been coworkers, acquaintances, then friends though never more.
âOver a decade and how many times have I caused you pain? How many times have I abandoned you, leaving you alone? How many times have I called you a bitch? An ice queen?â He straightened and began to come back towards her, his fists clenched as his tone became slightly more aggressive.
âYou seeâŠThe only failure to this plan of yours? Of never letting anyone close enough so that no one ends up hurt? Of keeping yourself closed off to lessen the pain?â Riordan came to a stop right in front of her and his eyes remained upon her face as he spoke.
âIs that you donât get to make the choices, all of the time. People will care whether you want them to or not. People will rail themselves against those god damn walls of yours time and time again, begging entry and even if you hold fast in the name of protection or self preservation, you canât play God.â
The muscles in his own jaw were strained as the tension rode through his neck. Funny how not 10 minutes ago he was massaging her shoulders to release her stress and now he was the cause of her tension.
âI will care about you whether you wish for it or not. Whether you see it or not. If you had ever taken a second to peer over those barriers around you then you wouldâve seen the truth in my words way before tonight.â
Actions always seemed to overtake words when emotions ran high, until you couldnât help but act upon them. His hand raised but he didnât hit her. He would never hit George. No, instead he slid his hand behind her head, weaving his calloused fingers into her hair and he drew her close whilst leaning down. Capturing her lips in a kiss, as if showing her the truth of his sentiments would be enough for the both of them. His lips claimed hers for the briefest of moments before he tore himself away from her once more.
And his voice was ragged when he spoke again.
âThis path leads to nothing good?â
A pause. Silence again until his lips tilted in that roguish grin that seemed to be his mainstay and his eyes inadvertently dipped to her lips before he took a full step away from her, letting her hair slip from his grasp.
âTell me that didnât feel right, George. If not me, at least be honest with yourself. Tell me that thisâŠâ He pointed between the two of them before his hand dropped to his side. âIsnât worth it. That the chance of something remarkable doesnât outweigh the risk.â
Yet, he didnât give her the chance to respond. Whether fear over her answer pushed him towards the door or whether he felt shame from stealing the kiss. A kiss that he had imagined time and time again yet had never had the chance or the guts to claim it.
So, without a word or a glance back he popped open the door and stalked through the bar, giving only the smallest of nods towards Tank as he exited.