“How did you learn to do this?” Doyle wondered.
“Curiosity, I guess. I took apart this old radio, then an old answering machine, one of my broken remote-control cars, stuff like that. Figured out how to work them together to play spy. This’ll be a little more sophisticated. But it’s pretty down and dirty.”
“You need dirt?”
“No, it’s an . . .” Sawyer glanced up at Annika. “Ah, you look good. I mean, you always look good, but—”
“Thank you.” She trailed a finger over his shoulders as she walked
behind him. Then sat on the edge of the table, her back to him as she faced Doyle.
Yes, she knew the ritual.
“You drive the boat very well.”
“Good thing.”
“It’s a very good thing. Maybe you could teach me. I like to learn. And in return, I can teach you to do the handsprings.”
“I do handsprings, I can’t hold a sword.”
“I can teach you to do it with one hand only. You’re strong.” Deliberately, she reached over, tapped his biceps. “You could spring with only one hand, so your sword sweeps at the legs, and your feet kick the face.”
“One hand?”
“Yes, I can teach you. And the running up a wall, both hands free, to flip back? It would be useful to you in combat. Would you like me to show you?”
“Sure. I’m up for something new.”
When he rose to go with her to the strip of lawn, he glanced back at a scowling Sawyer, then up at Riley. She grinned, then leaned on the rail to enjoy the show.
She heard Sawyer curse. “Problem, cowboy?”
“Nothing. Just a little burn.”
She watched Annika, dress billowing down toward her head, gorgeous legs flashing up in the spring.
“I bet,” Riley said, and grinned again.
CHAPTER TEN
Sawyer worked through it. Riley had come through with what he needed, now he’d use it to make what they all wanted.
He did his best to concentrate, to ignore Annika’s instructions to Doyle, Doyle’s comments back.
And her laugh. Doyle—not much of a laugher—sure seemed to be having a hell of a fucking good time.
Cut it out, he warned himself when he felt annoyance and outright jealousy crawling over his skin. He had a job to do, worlds to save, and couldn’t be worried about part of his team tumbling around on the stupid lawn.
Maybe he’d like to learn how to do a one-handed handspring. Doyle wasn’t the only one with upper-body strength.
Maybe Doyle had the kind of upper-body strength that bench-pressed Toyotas, but still.
He tried to settle down. No point in singeing his fingers with the soldering gun again because he was watching them instead of what he was doing.
Then Sasha came out, sat beside him. “We figured pizza in about an hour, if that works for you.”
Grunting, he finished wrapping enameled wire around a bolt, cutting off the ends. “I want to keep at this,” he said, and stripped the ends of the wire. “I can take it inside, grab a slice.”