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Blaze’s innocent curiosity seeped into his words. “What was his name?”
“It was a she. Her name was Nita.”
“Oh. Did she work at the place where your job was?”
“Yeah.”
“Did she do what you do?”
“No, she did more legal kind of things.”
“Did you get to do any fun stuff?”
“Actually, she was on a roller derby team. Do you know what roller derby is?” he asked.
“I saw a movie once about girls who did that. It’s like roller skating and hockey mixed together,” Blaze said, sounding excited.
“Yeah, buddy. That’s exactly what it is.”
“Did you get to see her do it?”
“I got to watch a practice,” he said, the memory of Nita in her satin shirt and shorts coming back to him, making him smile. “She’s really good.”
“Maybe she’ll come to Chicago for one of her games, or whatever,” Blaze suggested. “And then I could meet her.”
A bittersweet ache settled in Ryder’s chest. What was it about kids and their ability to see the simple things in life? “I don’t know if she travels this far for a bout.”
“Well, why don’t you call her and ask her?” Blaze suggested, sounding very much like he thought his dad was an idiot.
“It’s… kind of complicated,” he finally murmured, playing with a thread on the worn bed spread.
“Geez, it’s just roller skating, dad,” his genius son said.
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
44
Aroar woke Nita up, and she groaned as she sat up on the back seat of the rental car. Her back complained at having to sleep there last night, but all the discomfort would be worth it. She couldn’t mistake the sound of the Indian motorcycle growling up the driveway.
The address she’d gotten from Ryder’s contract had surprised Nita.
She’d expected something out of her own price range, but more like some cool condo in downtown Chicago. She hadn’t expected a small estate on the outskirts of the city. But when she thought about where he’d want to raise his son, the sleepy neighborhood made sense.
Although his motorcycle would wake up the dead.
She scrambled out of the car, bracing against the stiff wind her raincoat wasn’t prepared for. Even piling on two t-shirts under her turtleneck didn’t keep the winter chill out.
Now, standing outside of the small rental car, awkwardly fussing with her clothes that she’d picked to seem more “normal,” she questioned the brilliance of her idea. Why did she think surprising a guy like Ryder was a good idea? Let alone camping out on his doorstep like a groupie?
As his motorcycle rolled into sight around an immense oak tree, it was too late to do anything but give a weak wave.
His eyes flashed with a few different expressions. Wide with shock, then frowning with confusion, then narrowing with… well, she didn’t know with what. She just hoped it wasn’t anger, because it looked exactly like anger. Thankfully, his eyes settled into a blank look, which maybe was the worst of all.
He pulled the motorcycle up beside her, looking from her face to the car and back. He revved his engine, then killed it, kicking out the kickstand pad and pulling his helmet off.
“Hey,” he greeted.
“Hey,” she replied, trying to smile but knowing it came out more like a grimace.
