Wild on You

by Tina Wainscott

  His grin didn’t waver as he chomped on the piece of bacon he was holding. “I’ll take it as I see fit. And I see fit to take it as a compliment.”

  She swallowed back the sound of frustration and stuffed a piece of lettuce in her mouth. As they ate, she tried not to notice him enjoying his meal. Oh, and he was. He even used the last piece of country-fried steak to mop up the remaining gravy on the plate. Sheesh.

  She pulled her gaze from all that enjoyment and popped the cap off the purple marker she’d chosen. Risk and Addie … not. Instead, she wrote FIGHT FOR ANIMAL RIGHTS on the bowl and her website on the handle. “I’m going to call Gil, see if he’s noticed anything strange going on at the research lab.”

  “Sit over beside me so I can hear him.” Risk gave her a broad smile as he patted the bench beside him. “Please.”

  How could she resist any request when he put it like that? And with that smile? Easily, Addie! You could easily resist. And you will.

  Except now she was going to have to sit right up against him, shoulder to shoulder and ear to ear. She kept an inch between them, but he snuggled up next to her and pressed his cheek against hers. He smelled good, some kind of citrusy cologne or aftershave. His stubble was pleasantly raspy against her skin.

  As she was pondering why that rough sensation was pleasant, and coming to the conclusion that it was because it felt so very masculine, Gil answered after three rings with a breathless “Addie! You finally called me back. You know, I left all those messages, and all I got was one text with a ‘Hi, sorry but too busy to chat right now.’ ”

  “Well, you called a lot. And I’ve got way too much going on to spend an hour on the phone, as lovely as our chats were.” Okay, they weren’t lovely. If she were honest, she’d tell him they were boring. He’d rambled on, skating from subject to subject as he discussed the minutiae of his day, his past, anything at all. “How’s it going?”

  Mistake. He launched into a dissertation about his life since the lab was shut down. Maybe he didn’t have many people to talk to. Though she tried to break in several times, in the end she was too polite to cut him off, even with Risk making the kill it sign by drawing the edge of his hand across his throat. “Gil,” she finally managed. “Has there been anything strange going on at the lab lately?”

  Risk leaned in again, all hard, warm, male. She pushed the thought away.

  “I don’t really go to that area of the campus anymore,” Gil said. “But I can check it out for you. Why, you got a bead on more experiments?” His voice heightened with the same edge of excitement it had held when they’d plotted to expose the experiments.

  “Someone is trying to frame me for stealing a tiger from a zoo. And that someone is bad news. For me and the cub.”

  “I’ll check it out. We can be partners in crime again, Addie. It was fun sneaking around, playing spy. Saving lives.”

  “Yeah … fun.” If that was what he considered fun. But it had been exciting. And gratifying. “Is Maynard still working at the college?”

  “He is, though not as director, since there’s no lab to direct at the moment.”

  “Does he still seem angry?”

  “He doesn’t look like a happy camper, that’s for sure.”

  Addie and Risk traded a glance. A likely suspect. She turned her attention back to Gil. “Do a little snooping, see if there’s any activity in the lab.”

  “You bet. I’ll check tonight. Do you remember the last time when we—”

  “Gil, I have to go.” She knew anything that started with those words would go on forever. He’d relive their exploits, reminiscing over every call and meeting. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Man, the guy likes to ramble,” Risk said when she disconnected. “You are way too nice.”

  “I can’t help it. He was a big help in stopping those experiments. I think he got attached to the drama, though.”

  “I think he got attached to more than that,” Risk muttered.

  Before Addie could ask what he meant, Kayla came with the check. Risk insisted on paying, leaving a big tip. Then he helped Addie find a good spot on the wall to glue her spoon.

  When she stepped back, and the spoon held its spot, Risk patted her shoulder. “All right, Addie Wunder, Animal Hugger. Let’s get me a tux.”

  She felt a trill of excitement. Oh, boy. Some part of her was becoming just a little attached to playing Risk’s girlfriend.

  Chapter 8

  It had been bad enough watching Risk get measured for his tux, the female clerk at the bridal store wrapping the tape around his chest and biceps, and calling out numbers she was clearly impressed with. Harder yet to look at all those posters of happy brides and grooms and remember how the people in the diner had thought Risk had just proposed. With his arms around Addie, that smile on his face …

  Now she had to see him in that tux, breathtakingly handsome as he waited for her in the living room. She’d never been one to swoon over a guy in a tux, and she’d met plenty during her father’s matchmaking escapades. “Wow” was all she could say. All she should say.

  “Wow back atcha,” he said, his gaze sweeping over her. “This is better than Babbette.”

  She spun to show him how the gossamer fabric of her dress flared. The way he was taking her in made her heart thrum. She’d taken the time and effort to curl her hair and apply makeup. For the event, of course. She cleared her throat. “This isn’t me, either. I’m cargo pants and stretch shirts.”

  “They’re all different sides of you. And the reason I know that is because you wear them so well.” He brushed her bangs back from her cheek. “Tonight you’re a princess.”

  She could fall into that smile and the breathy way he’d said that last word. She clasped her hands in front of her and grabbed on to logic. “No, I’m just the cargo-pants girl who felt really weird being in a bridal shop today.”

  “I saw you looking at the posters with a little smile on your face.” His finger brushed the corner of her mouth. “Right here.”

  His touch sent squirmies through her tummy, especially since he lingered at her bottom lip. She stepped back and grabbed up her purse. “Because it felt weird being with a guy who was getting fitted for a tux. I’ve never dreamed of being a bride or planned my color scheme. I dream of liberating animals.”

  “You’re probably the only woman I’ve known who doesn’t want that fantasy.”

  “Do you want that fantasy?”

  He blinked. That had taken him off guard. “I can’t say my fantasies ever went quite that far. Just up through the fun parts before that.”

  “Through the banging part, you mean.”

  He obviously didn’t pick up her droll tone, because he grinned. “Yeah, right up until the awkward morning-after ‘Where is this going?’ conversation.”

  “You’re such a player.”

  He shrugged, looking nonplussed. “It was the only option on the table until recently.”

  “And now?” Damn, those words again.

  He let his gaze settle on her for a moment. “Now I have to see if this job pans out, and rethink my future.”

  Did that mean he might be open for a relationship? That if the right woman came along, he would commit for the first time in his life?

  You are so not that woman, Addie, so pull your gaze off him and walk to the door.

  A short while later, he escorted her into the historic mansion where the dinner was being held, his fingertips on her back. Her bare back, since the dress dipped down to her waist. She liked them there, maybe a little too much.

  “We don’t have to perpetuate the boyfriend thing just yet,” she whispered as she took in the grand room, still being set up.

  “This isn’t my boyfriend persona,” he said softly, leaning close as they walked. “This is my gentleman persona. The boyfriend would be doing this.” He drew his fingertips all the way to the base of her spine. “And he’d be thinking of where to duck behind these drapes to make you pant and moan.”

&nb
sp; Warmth flushed her cheeks; her imagination was kicking in. “I’m glad you made that distinction. I guess I’m not familiar with dating gestures.”

  He leaned closer, his mouth brushing her ear. “I can educate you.”

  His warm breath washing down her neck, along with those words, made another part of her body thrum. Or, more precisely, throb.

  “Zucchini,” she said, and backed away.

  “Hello, honey.” Her father’s voice made her turn around. He gave her one of his stiff hugs, then shook Risk’s hand. “You two make a handsome couple.”

  Handsome? Really? It always seemed an odd compliment more suited to describe, perhaps, a male pairing. But she latched on to the word couple. And the smile on her father’s face.

  Risk trailed his finger down her back, giving her a subtle wink. “Your daughter looks spectacular, doesn’t she?”

  She shivered at both his touch and the compliment.

  Her father smiled. “She does indeed.” He turned to Risk. “Your associates are here. They’re checking out the perimeter.” He gestured toward the roomful of square tables, all set up for an elegant meal. “As you requested, you’ll be seated with your back against the wall and a view of the entrance.” He pointed at a table off to the side, next to a draped wall.

  “Mom had the idea to arrange it like this,” Addie told Risk. “Each table accommodates four couples, allowing them a more intimate forum to get to know each other.”

  “Intimate,” Risk repeated, his gaze on the table. He’d said the word in a very neutral way, but something in her body responded to it. “A couple on each side. Good face-to-face. No trying to converse with someone a distance down a long table.” He scanned the room with his soldier’s face, no doubt looking for weak areas or places where the enemy could hide. Or infiltrate.

  She wasn’t sure which she liked better, Risk with his five o’clock shadow or Risk with his clean shave. It was interesting to imagine the shadow version in the tux. Or out of it.

  Stop that!

  “Risk.” They all turned to find a man in a tux approaching. He was about Risk’s age, with light green eyes and thick eyelashes no man should possess. He did a hand-slap-hug thing with Risk. “Good to see you.” Then he turned his attention to Addie and held out his hand. “Hello, darlin’, I’m Saxby Cole, this knucklehead’s friend and associate.” He nodded toward Risk. “I’m sure he’s told you all about me.” His voice dripped with Southern charm, so even knucklehead didn’t sound like an insult.

  “Nice to meet you; I’m Addie. And no, he didn’t mention you.”

  Saxby gave Risk a sly smile. “ ’Course he didn’t. Because he knew once I laid eyes on your beauty, I’d want to kick him off the job and take his place.” He took her outstretched hand and kissed the back of it. Boy, was this one a player. Even though he was clearly teasing, she knew there was some truth to his words.

  “Knock it off,” Risk said.

  Her father chuckled. “My daughter doesn’t drive on your road.” He looked at Addie. “Is that how you’d say it? Or climb your kind of tree? I rather like putting it that way.” When he saw Saxby’s puzzled expression, he put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her close. “She’s gay.”

  Oh, sure, now he was accepting her sexual preference. “Daddy, I’m not gay.”

  Her father swung an incredulous look at her. “What?”

  “I like men. I’m completely hetero.”

  Now he gave Risk an admiring smile. “You’re good, son. Real good.”

  Risk’s shoulders puffed up. “Thank you, sir. I pride myself on—”

  She elbowed him, then turned to her father. “I’ve never been gay. I told you that so you’d stop setting me up on all of those boring dates. I’m sorry.”

  He merely stared at her for a moment. It was the first time she’d seen her father at a loss for words. Suddenly, she realized that Saxby was still holding her hand. He wore one of those Well, now, this is interesting smiles, but he had the grace to plant one more kiss on her hand and release her. “A pleasure to meet you, Addie. Risk, Knox, and I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

  “Knox?” she asked.

  “That would be me.”

  She spun at the voice right behind her. “I didn’t even hear you come up behind me!”

  Risk patted Knox’s shoulder. “That’s one of our skills—sneakiness. Knox, this is Addie.”

  Knox had choppy light brown hair and soulful brown eyes that also held the shadow of world-weariness without the playful aspect Risk’s held. He bowed slightly as he shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  Goodness, she wondered if the prerequisites of being a SEAL included gorgeousness and charm. Knox, though, looked much more serious than his comrades.

  Risk leaned close. “Stay near your father until I get back.”

  The three men drifted off, pointing out exits and the room layout.

  She turned to her father, and oh, yeah, he was giving her the look. Disappointment. Disbelief. Anger. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I was at the end of my rope with your sneaky setups, and it just popped out of my mouth. When you just now accepted me as gay, it pushed out the truth the same way. I don’t like lying. I only want you to be all right with who I am: a vegetarian, an animal activist, and someone who’s a little impulsive.”

  “A little! Stealing animals, sneaking onto …” He curtailed his diatribe and let out a soft sigh instead. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve been trying to cram you into a life that’s not you. I’ll try, Adeline.”

  “Can you start by calling me Addie?” She wrinkled her nose. “I am so not an Adeline.”

  He tilted his head. “I suppose you’re not. Never have been.”

  “Excuse me, sir,” one of the coordinators said, and asked several setup questions.

  As always, Risk kept watching her. It made her hyperaware of everything she did. It’s just his job. Remember that.

  Though it wasn’t her job to watch him, she did. She could tell the guys had the kind of camaraderie built from spending a lot of time together in dangerous situations. They easily went from discussing line of fire to bursting out in laughter.

  A short while later, people started filtering in. Risk immediately came to her side as his associates strode off to their positions. “Ready to rumble?” he asked.

  “As ready as I’m ever going to be.”

  He escorted her to the entrance. She played her mother’s role, greeting guests as they arrived in a receiving line. Only a couple mentioned the brouhaha of Carrigan’s accusations. She would need to address it to the group as a whole when the time came. Many wanted to know who the gorgeous guy standing next to her was. Most of these people had known her since she was a teenager or longer. She’d never brought a date to an event.

  When she said “This is my boyfriend, Risk” the first time, boyfriend felt foreign on her tongue. It must have sounded odd to him, too, because he glanced her way.

  “How sweet,” said the lady who ran the youth home, giving him a grandmotherly smile. “You must be very special.”

  “Oh, he is,” Addie said, wrapping her fingers around his big upper arm. “He definitely is.” Doing that felt oddly natural, as did leaning in to him.

  Later, benefactors and charity representatives mingled near the open bar. Risk left her side only to get her a glass of white wine. She rarely drank alcohol, but the Riesling went down smooth and sweet. It stole over her, relaxing the tension at fielding questions about her organization, Carrigan, and Risk.

  “How’d you two meet?” one lady asked.

  Addie hadn’t thought about that question, and her wine-softened brain scrambled for an answer. Which Risk provided, and he was smoother than the wine. “I accidentally stumbled across her Animal Huggers Facebook page. I like animals, but hey, I gotta be honest. When I saw pictures of a gorgeous woman in a bikini washing cars for a fund-raiser, and then I watched her impassioned videos …” He shook his head, a grin on his face. “You kno
w it wasn’t the animals that got me to that first protest.”

  The woman’s husband barked in laugher and slapped him on the back. “Smart move, my boy. I own this building, and when Gilda came in to ask about renting it for a cancer survivors’ costume ball, I let her use it for free. On the stipulation that she be my contact throughout the planning.”

  Addie watched the couple, who’d been married for three years. Gilda leaned toward her husband, flashing him smiles as he talked. She often touched him, just a graze of her fingers on his arm or shoulder.

  As Addie thought to mirror her actions, she realized she was already doing it. Risk drew his hand from her back up to her neck, where his fingers gently massaged the tense muscles, and she wondered if he was cognizant of the motion.

  Chimes sounded, signaling that dinner was about to be served. Risk made eye contact with Saxby, who had remained at the perimeter of the room and still managed to look like he belonged there. Knox was outside, pretending to be a guest sneaking a smoke.

  Risk’s hand was splayed across her lower back as he escorted her to their table. She knew the three couples at their table only informally. They all introduced themselves once they were seated.

  At the podium, her father welcomed everyone to the gathering and invited all to enjoy the meal. An orchestra started playing soft, elegant music from the stage.

  Risk picked up the placard in front of her table setting, bearing a green V. “More lettuce?”

  “Fish,” she said. “Delicious, healthy fish.”

  Which launched a discussion with the lady to her right about restricted diets, since her placard represented a gluten-free meal. Risk made conversation with the man to his left about the military as salads were served and then cleared away. Addie tried to tune in to Risk’s conversation, but the woman kept talking about food intolerances versus allergies. Addie heard bits and pieces, gun talk, something about getting shot. They were trading shrapnel stories, for God’s sake.

  “It was hard for me to sit down for a few days, that’s for sure,” Risk was saying.