His Risk to Take Read Online Free

head. Strangely, it comforted him, knowing he didn’t have to say the words out loud.
    “Are you hungry?”
    Ruby quirked a dark brow at his sudden question. “You’re going to cook for me at one in the morning?”
    “Have a seat,” he directed. After a moment of hesitation during which Troy suspected she was battling the urge to ignore his instruction, she pulled out a dining chair and sat, watching him expectantly. “Omelet, okay?”
    “Let’s see what you got, Chicago boy,” she responded, her lips edging up into a smile.
    Troy threw an exasperated glance at her as he walked to the refrigerator to begin pulling out ingredients. “What tipped you off? The accent?”
    Her smile dimmed a little, and he remembered. In the picture she’d seen of him and Grant in their uniforms, Wrigley Field had been in the background. Thankfully, she changed the subject. “What part of town are you from?”
    “Oak Park. It’s a suburb just west of Chicago. You familiar?”
    “I’ve been through Chicago once or twice,” she hedged.
    “Really.” He pulled a Tupperware container out of the fridge and set it next to the carton of eggs. “Why do I get the feeling you weren’t there to catch a Cubs game?”
    She ignored his question. “Are those prechopped peppers in that Tupperware container?”
    Troy cracked an egg into a bowl. “Yeah.”
    “I’m not sleeping with you.”
    “Jesus,” he choked out. “How did we arrive here from prechopped peppers?”
    Ruby pushed back her chair and stood, the poster child for nervous energy. “You must cook for girls pretty often to chop up peppers in advance, that’s all I’m saying. So if there are strings attached to that omelet, I don’t want it. No matter how good it tastes, the answer is no.”
    “Actually, the peppers are for me.” He gestured with the spatula. “My mother is a chef back in Chicago. It’s just something she always kept in the fridge, and I guess I got used to it.”
    “Huh.” She sat back down and watched him cook the omelet. Once he’d finished, he slid it onto a plate and set it in front of her, then pulled out his own chair and sat.
    “Who taught you how to play pool like that?”
    The fork paused halfway to her mouth. “I see. You cooked for me, so now I’m obligated to answer your questions.” When Troy simply waited, she sighed, muttering something about cops under her breath. “My father.”
    “And he approves of you going to these places on your own? Using the skill he taught you to take people’s money?”
    “Approves?” She quickly swallowed her bite. “He encourages it.”
    Troy’s hand flexed on the table as that infuriating piece of information sunk in. “That’s great. He knowingly sends you into dangerous situations. Sounds like he really cares about you.”
    Ruby flinched a little at his sharply delivered words, and Troy desperately wished he could take them back. Her hand came to rest limply beside her plate, like he’d made her lose her appetite. When she spoke, her voice sounded different. Less confident. And it sliced through him. “Maybe you’re right. But I don’t think he sees it like that.” She set her fork down, crossed her arms over her middle. “You’ve heard that proverb, teach a man to fish and you’ll feed him his entire life? Teaching me how to play pool was his way of feeding me for life. He didn’t, doesn’t , know any other way.”
    Troy leaned forward. “Listen, I didn’t mean to say your father doesn’t care about you. I’m sorry if that’s how it sounded. I just don’t think hustling pool is the safest way to make money.”
    Her chin came up, filling him with relief that he hadn’t completely shaken her self-assurance. “I didn’t come here for a lecture. We just met. You have no say in what I choose to do.”
    “What did you come here for? You thought about taking off back at the bar. Searching for the quickest exit route. Why didn’t you blow me off?”
    She smiled a little.