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I happen to know he tends to go for men more than he does women, even if he’s an “equal-opportunity Southern boy” as he told me once. A fact I’m not sure Ryker is aware of—and if he is, he doesn’t show it. By the grumbles and short answers he’s been giving Joey, one would think he dislikes the younger man—yet it doesn’t seem to bother Joey. He just keeps on ribbing him and calling him Tornado Daddy.

I try to keep my face neutral and pull out my phone.

“How’s Mother Nature looking, Fin?” Joey asks.

I study the reflectivity and velocity radar maps on my app before responding. “We haven’t reached severe yet, but we’re heading in that direction.”

Joey leans forward and studies my phone. “Hot dang! Those numbers look beautiful.”

He pauses for a moment before pointing to a cell that’s not far from us.

“Got some clear signs of organization here.” He leans back and claps his hands together. “We’re gonna have a good time.”

“Be prepared to hustle at a moment’s notice,” Ryker says.

I turn my focus from the radar to the profile of my serious professor, who’s normally not so serious. I remember one class where he turned on the movieTwisterand passed out popcorn from the vending machine because he thought it would be more fun than learning for the day. That is not the man sitting next to me right now.

Ryker looks at us briefly as he puts his blinker on to turn into the gas station parking lot.

“Stretch your legs, and if either of you need to use the bathroom, now is the time.”

Joey salutes. “You got it, Dad.”

I hold back another laugh but don’t look to see Ryker’s reaction. Not because I don’t want to, but because I’m distracted by the massive armored vehicle and two men thatcome into view.

“Thor.” Joey takes the words out of my mouth. “Holy shit, ‘tis a thing of beauty.” He smacks Ryker on the arm.

Ryker’s lip twitches into a smile, and his eyes crinkle around the corners. Figures the first real smile I’ve seen from him since yesterday is because of a vehicle.

“Wait till you see it up close,” he says, the giddy inflection I’m used to hearing when he talks about what he loves returning.

Joey lets out a low whistle as Ryker slows near Thor, catching the attention of the other team members. I immediately recognize them from Ryker’s chase videos: Ezra, his communications lead—or “The Pulse” as the internet calls him—and Hawk, whose real name is Diego, his researcher/data analyst and longtime college friend.

Butterflies take flight in my stomach now that I’m finally here. All thoughts of what happened between Ryker and I last night leave my mind, and the thrill of the chase enters my body, lighting me up from the inside to the point I feel like I must be glowing. This feeling is why I signed up for this in the first place—I just have to remember that every time Ryker pisses me off.

“Hawk and Ezra are going to take my truck, and the three of us will be in Thor for the time being,” Ryker says as he comes to a stop. “Get your gear out of the back but leave anything you need for the motel tonight in the truck.”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” Joey salutes and then pops open the door. The sound of him greeting Hawk reaches my ears as I move to exit, but a hand on my thigh stops me. I gasp from the contact, but it’s gone as soon as it was there.

“Sorry,” Ryker says, squeezing his eyes shut. “I didn’t—” He exhales.

“It’s fine.” I unbuckle my seat belt while the lingering burn of his touch sparks on my thigh. “Did you need something?”

He turns his body, eyes intense. “I—”

“Come on, Finley!” Joey yells through the window.

Ryker presses his lips together in dissatisfaction, but I don’t want to linger in the truck. He told me he regretted what happened, and that’s that. It’s showtime, and I need to be on my game.

I turn away from Ryker and open the door, stepping out into the heavy Oklahoma air. There’s a light wind, but the storm is far enough away from this location that there’s no rain or extreme winds.

Joey pulls me into him and walks us to the two smiling men. I shouldn’t be starstruck, but much like the first time I saw Ryker standing in front of the lecture hall earlier this year, my mind goes blank.

“This is Finley,” Joey says, dropping his arm.

Hawk steps forward first, reaching out his hand. Like Ryker, he’s a handsome older man. Rugged and tall, sun-kissed skin, dark-brown hair, a well-trimmed mustache and scruff.

“Nice to meet you, Finley, I’m Diego. But as you may know, you can call me Hawk. I’ve heard a lot about you.”