Take a Chance on Me_A My Heart Channel Romance
Page 12
“I’m Oliver Stewart and we’re here to look at alligators. They can be dangerous creatures, but if you’re careful, they’re really interesting!”
He sounded like Chance and how he began the beginning of every episode. She’d heard Oliver play pretend where he was Chance before, but being in front of a camera had taken him to a whole different level.
Rog caught her eye and gave her a wink. Madelyn scooted back another couple of inches, her breathing coming easier with every bit of space she put between her and the camera’s lens.
“What do you know about alligators?” Rog prompted.
It was either the exact right question to ask, or the wrong one, depending on how long Rog planned on taping him, because Oliver launched into a surprisingly knowledgeable monologue on alligators and all kinds of creatures who lived in the swamp.
She felt a warm body slide onto the bench beside her, and Chance’s quiet voice near her ear sent delicious waves of heat down her neck. “He is a natural.”
“Thanks for letting him do this. It’s a dream come true for him,” she responded back, keeping her eyes trained on Oliver while her entire body hummed with the closeness of Chance Risk. She cleared her throat in an attempt to clear her mind. “So I’ve been meaning to ask. Where did the name Chance Risk come from?”
“I made it up.” He leaned back on his hands, their shoulders touching.
“But why? When? Did you legally change your name?”
One corner of his mouth tilted up. “Rog and I joked about it one night when we were still developing our idea for the MyChannel show. I didn’t want anyone to connect me to my brother. We were messing around with names, and it kind of stuck. It’s not my legal name, though.”
“Can I put that in my article?”
He scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I’ve been in Christian’s shadow my entire life. Even when I was doing stunts, I was always introduced as ‘Christian Sawyer’s brother’ more often than my own name. Then I’d be sized up for my relationship to him, and not for myself. That’s one of the many things I liked about you. When I told you about Christian, you didn’t change.”
“I’ve been judged for my family my whole life.” She’d felt a little overwhelmed when she’d learned who his brother was, but it wasn’t until she met his entire family that she learned how completely out of her element she was. If she hadn’t realized it immediately on her own, their comments would have cemented it. “Do you want people to know about your connection to your brother?”
He tilted his head to the side with a sigh. “No, but it could help ratings, so maybe it’s worth it.” He turned to her then. “Okay, my turn. Your writing is really good. Why are you working for a diner and writing on spec when you should be an amazing, award-winning reporter for a huge newspaper?”
“Life,” she said with a shrug, though his compliment made her mind buzz with pleasure. Was she good? She used to think so, but she’d gotten used to small things, and the one big thing she’d reached for had blown up in her face.
“What about life has made it difficult to follow your dream?” Chance asked with a sideways smile.
“That’s two questions.”
“It’s a follow-up to the first question. No more stalling.”
She smiled. “Fine. It’s no big secret, really. I got pregnant a few months after Jason and I got married, so I needed to get a job quickly. The diner took me on, and I’ve been there ever since.”
“So it was a money decision?”
“Yes,” she said, but if she was being honest, she knew that wasn’t completely true. “Mostly,” she amended.
“What’s the other factor?”
“I feel like I’m being interrogated,” she said, trying to make it sound like a joke.
“I want to get to know you.”
“Why?”
He stared out at the horizon before turning his full attention on her, the weight of it nearly overwhelming. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Her stomach fluttered. “I guess not.”
He leaned closer. “You’re a smart woman. You’ll figure it out.”
She felt herself drawn toward him, just like the night before, every nerve tingling in anticipation at the thought of maybe touching him again. Oliver laughed, and it broke into her thoughts. She blinked and sat back, trying to get her bearings again.
His question. Why wasn’t she living her dream?
“I realized I’m not good enough,” she blurted out. She stared at her hands, but she could still feel Chance watching her.
“Not good enough for what?” he asked.
“To be a hard-hitting journalist. To write the things people want to read. To change the world.”
“You stopped believing in yourself,” he said, quietly.
She wanted to argue with him, to show him the stats from her previous articles with just enough clicks to justify accepting more articles, but not enough to bring her on as a full-time staff writer. To pull up the Senator Brightman article as the example of how she couldn’t hack it in the professional world.
But his words had struck a chord in her, a deep, resonant one she didn’t think about too often. When had she stopped believing she could do this? Was it when her numbers weren’t what she expected? Was it when she realized that making it in media was equally a factor of luck as it was working hard? Was it wound between the many threads of taking care of her mom and Oliver and the emotional fallout of getting a divorce and trying to piece together a new life that wasn’t anything like what she expected?
Chance’s work-roughened hand slid over the top of hers and he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Is being a reporter what you still want?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Then don’t let fear or past performance stand in your way. I know you can do anything, Madelyn. You’ve always been that way. You even got me to agree to an interview, something I’ve never done before.”
“Yeah. But you did owe me for being Ophelia,” she teased to hide how flustered his words made her feel.
“Well, true. But Madelyn, it was you. The way you listen and observe and find the heart of something. So many people can only see the surface, but you’ve always been able to delve deeper.” He nudged her shoulder. “I read some of your articles this week.”
“You looked me up?” The idea of him reading the asinine things she’d written made her want to crawl under the bench and hide.
“I did. And Madelyn, you’re a still good writer. One of the best. But all the articles I read were missing your signature touch.”
She looked at him skeptically. “Yeah? And what is that?”
“Exactly what I was saying before. Your ability to see beyond the surface. To look at something in a new way that not only snags the reader, but never lets them go.”
“It’s kind of hard to write like that when I’m reporting on types of bacteria found on public restroom sinks.”
“Maybe. I’m not a writer, so I don’t know. But I do know I can’t hear you when I read those articles. I couldn’t hear your voice in my mind, and that’s what makes you, you.”
She let that sink in. “There was so much rejection, in the beginning, before Verity picked up my first article. And I kept changing my voice so much, I think I lost sight of what it was at all.” She paused. “Plus, maybe it seemed safer to write without the parts of me in my articles, because it didn’t hurt as much when they were rejected.”
“This is your shark tank.”
“What?” She turned to him, very aware that her hand was still under the warmth of his.
“I was terrified to jump in the shark tank the first time I did it. In fact, I only did it because I couldn’t afford to get fired and everyone was watching me. One jump changed my entire life.”
Anticipation rose up in her. Putting her voice, herself, back into her writing. Was that really her shark tank moment? The one where she let go of all of her fears and dove in—regardless of what happened? “That’s r
eally profound, Chance.”
“I have my moments.” He pretended to buff his nails on the front of his shirt, before turning more seriously toward her. “I know you’ll do great things, Madelyn.”
“Thanks.” It meant a lot to hear him say that.
“Mom!” Oliver waved her close. He’d moved to the front of the boat with Jim, Rog still following with the camera. Madelyn reluctantly slid her hand out from under Chance’s and they both stood.
“So, do I even want to know more about this bathroom sink bacteria thing?” Chance asked as they headed toward Oliver.
“You really, really don’t.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Does anyone want to hold an alligator?” Jim boomed from the front of the pontoon a few hours later. Madelyn spent most of her time gripping the back of Oliver’s shirt while they watched alligators floating in the water around them.
“No,” Madelyn said, but her words were drowned out by excited cheers, Oliver’s louder than everyone else’s. She took Chance’s arm in a vice grip. “I don’t want Oliver holding an alligator.”
“They’re baby alligators. He’ll be fine. Come watch.”
Madelyn followed them to the front of the pontoon, where Jim pulled a baby alligator out of a cooler he’d had sitting in the front of the boat. She felt the blood drain from her face. That had been there the whole time? “I thought he had drinks in there.”
“Good thing you didn’t get thirsty,” Hannah quipped with a small smile before taking an unexpected picture of her and Chance. How many pictures had Madelyn been in without realizing it?
“Chance, why don’t you hold him first?” Jim nodded for him to come forward.
Rog trained the camera on them, and Chance explained the alligator’s mating and child-rearing habits while he held the wriggling creature in his hands. It was a couple of feet long, including his tail, but the neck only had a circumference of maybe six inches, and maybe a foot at the body. Chance kept a steady grip on his neck, the muscles in his forearms flexing.
Jim reached into the cooler and pulled out another, smaller alligator. This one less than a foot long, and when his mouth stretched open, the teeth were nearly nonexistent. He crouched down in front of Madelyn and Oliver. “Would the little guy like to hold this one?”
“Yes!” Oliver said, then covered his mouth when Hannah gave him a gentle shush.
“Is he going to be safe?” Madelyn asked.
“If he’s careful,” Jim said, not seeming too worried about it.
She looked back and forth from Oliver to the alligator and nodded with a sigh.
Oliver silently pumped his fist and gently took the alligator. “Mom, this is so cool!” Oliver held the alligator with two hands—one around its neck to keep it from having the range to bite him, and the other near his legs to hold him steady.
She ventured a hand out to touch the rough, scaly back, but that was enough for her. She was glad Oliver was happy, but she could have gone her entire life without being this close to an alligator and been just fine.
Chance signed off on his segment and came over to sit beside Madelyn and Oliver, still holding the alligator. Madelyn shot up to her feet and moved a few feet away.
Chance raised his eyebrows at her. “Everything okay?”
“Yep. Just don’t need to be sandwiched by two alligators.”
Oliver shifted his body toward Chance and held his alligator up just a bit. In a high-pitched voice, he said, “Hi, I’m Allie.”
Chance’s lip quirked up in a small smile. He turned his alligator toward Oliver’s and lowered his voice. “I’m Gator.”
“Want to be my friend?” Ollie said, in the same high-pitched voice. “I eat fish and lay in the sun.”
“Those are my favorite things, too,” Chance said, playing along still.
Madelyn smiled softly as she watched the two pretend to speak for their alligators, who were now best friends preparing for an adventure in the swamp chasing ducks. Oliver giggled so hard, he nearly dropped the alligator, and Madelyn knew it was time to step in. “Alright, I think it’s time to put the alligators away.”
She nearly expected Oliver to whine, but he was his usual, obedient self as he handed his alligator back to Jim. “So awesome,” he said, holding his face up to the sky like he couldn’t believe it.
“Very awesome,” Chance said, handing his alligator back, and then high-fiving Oliver. Madelyn sat back down between Chance and Oliver.
“Now, who wants to see me grab a real alligator?” Jim asked.
Once again, everyone cheered but Madelyn, even though she was a little curious. This big, burly man seemed like he could handle wrestling an alligator with his bare hands if he needed to. They drove around the swamp, Chance sitting a little closer to Madelyn than necessary, his arm brushing hers every time they went over a bump, until finally they stopped.
“That’s the one,” Jim whispered. He sidled the boat right up beside a floating alligator that seemed to be a bit smaller than most they’d seen. In a flash, he reached into the water, grabbed it by the neck, and pulled it out. It flung its body everywhere, and Madelyn’s heart raced.
“Holy cow,” Oliver said under his breath.
“Holy alligator,” Madelyn said to him, making him giggle.
Rog trained the camera at the alligator. “Are you going to try it next, Chance?” he asked.
Madelyn held her breath, waiting for his reply.
“As much as I want to risk my arm getting bit off, I think I’ll leave this adventure to the professionals.”
She let her breath whoosh out in relief, but decided to tease Chance. “I don’t know. Losing your arm in an adventure might give you more street cred.”
“Should I change my mind?”
She glanced at him up and down before she could stop herself. “Nah. I like both of your arms.”
He stared at her long enough for her face to turn red. “What a coincidence! I like both of your arms, too.”
“What about my arms?” Oliver asked, wiggling his around in front of them.
Chance grabbed him by the waist and started tickling him. “How many arms do you have in there? Eight?”
“Two!” Oliver said through his giggles.
“I count at least ten,” he said, tickling Oliver’s ribs for a few more seconds.
Oliver squeezed himself on the bench between Chance and Madelyn and let out a long sigh. “This was the best day ever.”
Chance sat back with a relaxed smile on his face as the boat glided through the swamp to finish the rest of their tour. It was amazing how he looked right at home everywhere they went. It was like his skin was meant to be kissed by the sun, his hair made for the wind to blow through it.
He reached out to ruffle Oliver’s hair, but looked right at Madelyn as he spoke, his expression sending heat through her body. “Glad you could come.”
“Me, too,” Oliver said fervently. Madelyn laughed, glad for the release in tension building up in her.
Chance chuckled. “Good. What about your mom? Is she glad too?” Madelyn glared at him, but Chance smiled back unapologetically.
Oliver turned to study Madelyn and gave a decisive nod. “Mommy’s super happy. I can tell.”
“You can? How?” Chance asked. Madelyn squirmed as Chance started to study her closely.
Oliver tilted his head before he twisted his face into an exaggerated frown. “Because she doesn’t look like this.”
Madelyn poked him playfully in the ribs, and his frown turned into a giggle. “Is that really how I look?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes.”
Madelyn’s heart tugged and she pulled Oliver close. “I’m sorry if I’ve been sad too much. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” he said, with a toothy smile. Rog waved him over and Oliver skipped off without a backward glance.
“You’ve been sad?” Chance closed the gap left by Oliver.
She watched Oliver crouch beside Rog to look at s
ome footage in his camera. “Life is hard. I thought I was hiding it better from him.”
“He’s an observant kid.”
Yes, he was. She leaned back on her hands, so she was side by side with Chance. She turned to look at him. “For the record, I am glad we came.”
“Despite the alligators,” he teased.
“Well, now you’re pushing it.”
He slid his hand over and linked their pinkies. She held her breath, but didn’t move. They both watched Oliver chatter with Rog and Hannah, suspended in this fragile moment. “For the record,” Chance said, the deep rumble in his voice nearly making her breathless, “I’ve missed you.”
She responded so quietly she almost couldn’t hear herself over the thunderous beat of her heart. “I’ve missed you, too.”
His pinkie brushed over hers in response.
Chapter Seventeen
Madelyn had just stepped out of the shower when a quiet knock sounded on her hotel door. She grabbed the hotel robe and tied it tight around her waist while she peered through the peephole. Her heart immediately kicked into gear. Chance. It looked like he’d also taken a shower. His platinum hair was damp and combed to the side, and he wore a plain black T-shirt with some dark-washed jeans. She drank in the sight of him looking more vulnerable than usual, as he moved from foot to foot like he couldn’t stand still for a second.
She ran her fingers through her own damp hair before opening the door a crack. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Maybe.” He looked behind her into the dark room. “Do you have a second to talk?” She hesitated, and he twisted his hands in an agitated manner. She’d never seen him like this before. “It’s important.”
She should tell him they could talk tomorrow. Or step out into the hall to have this conversation. But curiosity and exhaustion—and a heady dose of attraction—made her open the door wider. His gaze on her became intense as he stepped into the room. His nerves seemed gone, replaced by a pulsing awareness between them. She swallowed at the sudden dryness in her throat.
He stepped closer to her, their bodies nearly touching, the heat pulsing between them a living thing. “Madelyn,” he said, his voice husky. His hand rose to touch her cheek, his thumb a petal-soft touch across her skin, before he slid his fingers through her hair at the base of her neck. Almost as if they had a will of her own, her hand went to his sculpted chest, where she felt his pounding heart through his T-shirt. She leaned into him, her body flush with his, Madelyn very aware of every place they touched.