Page 2 (1/2)

Joan Swan

This had been an epically stupid idea

Josh Marx propped his elbows on the picnic table, flanking his laptop, and stared out at the ocean beyond Dana Point Harbor, in California With a storeneral public had deserted the beach, and only a sades Stunt Coe

On the beach, Jax Chah the air toward Wes Lawson, Renegades’ top stunt driver The wind hooked the ball five yards inland, and Wes launched off his feet, stretching until he was horizontal to the sand, ar…

The ball brushed his fingertips and changed trajectory, spinning away as Wes dove—face-first—into the sand

The others broke into hysterics Wes pushed to hands and knees, shook sand out of his hair, and spit it out of his

Rubi, Wes’s girlfriend, jogged up the beach, grabbed a towel, and tossed it to Wes, then wandered toward the picnic table She darted a look at the notepad at Josh’s elbohere he’d jotted calculations “Done yet?”

“Not even close” Josh returned his gaze to the sea, a bittersweet knot forh, you’ll have that risk assess but plug in numbers”

“Can’t create it without your help” The co to happen, anyway?”

Josh heaved a breath and rubbed the backs of his fingers against the stubble on his jaw He’d been so busy with different consulting gigs, he hadn’t had tiive her the inforht after Christanother job”

“You’re on”

Wes and Jax were tossing the ball again