by Amanda Usen
She giggled. “Gotcha.”
A smart-ass grin curved her lips as she threaded her arm through his and dragged him toward the dining room. His skin itched as he took his place at the table. He couldn’t shake the sense that something big in his life had just ended, and he needed to find a new adventure as soon as possible. He spotted Bergman crossing the room toward them and growled under his breath. Until he paid his debt for the man’s favor, he couldn’t go anywhere, but the second they wrapped At Home in the Wild, he was heading back into the mountains. Screw the Adirondacks. Maybe it was time to get serious about Everest.
He drained his wineglass, ignoring Allie’s amused glance. Once they had an endowed chair for the fund, he could be gone for years at a time, and never have to drink his way through another dinner like this.
His neck prickled, firing a warning, as Bergman stopped beside their table. He dropped a kiss on Allie’s cheek and held out his hand to Russ. “Great work on the first show, and I love your media strategy. Keep up the good work. I can feel that Emmy in my hand already.”
“What media strategy?” And why is my wineglass still empty?
“Susannah pretending to playing hard-to-get while you chase her, of course. Genius—fits right in with the promotional shots we’ve released. This series is going to rock. Keep feeding that fire. Her ratings slipped a little last week, and we need to make up lost ground.”
“Two shows, Bergman. That’s all I promised you. I appreciate everything you’re doing here in Washington, but I’m not your personal Boy Scout and home ec project. That wasn’t the deal. Everest calls, my friend.”
“Everest isn’t going anywhere, but with your help, Susannah Stone and Media Life Networks will hit the top.” The steel in Bergman’s voice reminded Russ of every time the guy had saved his ass. Without Bergman, he might not even have a shot at Everest. He’d have found himself on another path entirely, one that involved lawyers and community service, before he’d grown up enough to straighten himself out.
“Fine.” His molars made a grinding sound as he nodded.
Bergman’s smile reminded him of his last encounter with a shark. “Looking forward to your blog post. Nice to see you, Alicia,” he said before he walked away from their table.
Shit.
Susannah was not going to be happy. But a buzz of anticipation built inside him over having an excuse to talk to her again. No reason to put it off. He slipped his phone out of his pocket.
Bad news, Susie.
Bubbles popped up immediately. Her instant response worked for him. A lot. In many ways.
What now?
Bergman wants us to pretend you’re playing hard-to-get and I’m chasing you. Says our media “strategy” is genius and he can feel the Emmy. I said yes.
He decided not to mention her slipping ratings.
Silence.
Just keep doing what you’re doing. Keep it classy, and stick to your brand. I’ll keep doing what I’m doing, too. Just ignore me. A smile rolled across his face. Was it wrong that he was going to enjoy teasing her?
Still no bubbles.
Susie?
I’m processing. My ex-husband is appealing the custody decision. That camping trip makes me look…undesirable.
I so disagree.
As a mother, you jerk.
He smiled.
I still disagree. Courts move slow. Nothing naked made it onto the tape. And when the show airs, you’ll be an inspiration to mothers everywhere. Rock star, remember?
Stop being nice. This is your fault.
Let’s not forget who kissed who.
He got hard remembering what it had been like to wake up with her soft lips on his.
Prepare for pursuit.
But I just made a date with the banker.
His smile slipped, and the predator rose to the surface again. His thoughts flattened and moved slowly. Desire beat inside him, all instinct, no thought, and he fought to contain it. He’d spent the last six years refusing entanglements and loosening the ones he had. He did not want to get involved with Susannah Stone, especially after what she’d shared with him about her marriage. She deserved a guy she could count on, and that wasn’t him. He was heading for the mountains.
His phone went dark in his hand, so he tapped the screen and typed.
Make sure you mention it online. I’ll pretend to be jealous.
He shoved the phone in his pocket, feeling a sharp stab of the real thing.
Fingers twined through his and squeezed. Allie gave him a cheeky grin. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“You heard Bergman. It’s a work thing.” Finally, a server poured more wine, and he took a long drink. He knew exactly what he was going to write for that damn blog. The truth would do the trick. Why fan the flames when he could dump gasoline on the fire?
Chapter Ten
Saturday arrived faster than Susannah would have believed possible. Until this morning, she’d planned to bail on coffee with Adam, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Holly was right. She needed to get back out there, and this was the perfect opportunity to see if what she’d experienced with Russ could translate to her real-life prospects.
She’d expected to be exhausted from her strenuous weekend. Instead, she was filled with energy. She’d sent the proposal for the next show to Rich Bergman, crossed things off her to-do list that had been there for months, and cleared the dining room table of everything except the custody appeal—still hiding under the fruit bowl. Russ had continued to flirt with her via status updates, and the week had passed in a blur of chopped vegetables for the first spring show, a new molar for Billy, a constant stream of workmen in the upstairs bathroom, and relentless normality in her social media presence.
Her phone buzzed, and his name flashed across the screen.
Finally got my blog up.
He added a wink.
Oh God. She clicked the link and tried not to hold her breath.
A cream puff. A pink marshmallow. So soft and sweet my teeth hurt. Susannah Stone wouldn’t last five minutes in the snow…or so I thought when I saw her arrive at the bottom of Mount Marion. Then I discovered soft is tough stuff. She tore up that mountain. And then she went back home to hide in her kitchen.
Susie? Where are you? Come out, come out, wherever you are…
You don’t fool me one bit. You aren’t any more domesticated than I am. I bet you’re already dreaming of the next mountain to climb. Or maybe you’d like to conquer the jungle? If you pack your tiger-striped bikini, I’ll teach you to swing from vines. Or maybe you’d prefer a tropical island? Just you, me, and Mother Nature? We could skip the tent this time and sleep on the beach under the stars. You might have the rest of the world fooled, but I know the real you. An adventurer. A survivor. A Wild Woman.
Think about it.
Your Wild Man
Susannah stared at her phone. How was she supposed to ignore that? If she burst into flames and set off the smoke detectors, she’d have to explain what happened. Would anyone believe her? She picked up her knife and went back to cutting carrots into perfect small dice for her spring vegetable soup. Her phone buzzed again, sending another burst of heat through her.
Still speaking to me?
She mopped sweat from her brow.
Definitely not. Tiger-striped bikini? Nice.
All in good fun.
He sent her a shot of a rainbow of ties.
Help a guy out? Big night tonight, and I can’t decide.
Seriously? I’m working here.
She added the vegetables to the oil and stirred them. Was he texting to make sure she wasn’t mad at him? That was almost…sweet.
Wear the blue. It matches your eyes.
Thanks, Susie. I knew I could count on you. Have a good night.
It doesn’t get any better than this.
She scooped Billy off the floor and handed him the spoon she’d been using to stir the cooking vegetables. He promptly jammed it in his mouth, and she snappe
d a shot of him.
Although I’m having coffee with the banker in an hour, she added before sending the picture.
Billy grabbed her lip, and she nibbled on his soup-slick hand. She didn’t want to examine the emotion that surged through her as she waited for Russ’s response.
I think I’ll wear the green. It matches my eyes. ;-)
Her heart skipped a beat even though she knew he wasn’t really jealous.
Enjoy your glamorous party.
Tonight must be the big charity gala she’d seen mentioned on the network. She grabbed another spoon, gave the vegetables a stir, and then set Billy on the floor to play. If she let him keep the spoon, she might have enough time to make a donation before he lost interest in destroying the cupboards.
She reached for her purse and fished out her credit card, feeling guilty for not doing this earlier in the week. It didn’t take her long to find the site. Since Billy was happily whacking kitchen chairs, she took a second to admire the photos on the website. When her gaze hit a shot of Russ in a tuxedo kissing the cheek of a drop-dead gorgeous blonde, she felt a sharp pain, and then another one, lower.
“Ow, stop. That hurts Mommy.” She took the wooden spoon out of Billy’s hand and rubbed her aching shin. When she looked at the picture again, the pain in her heart was still there. If she’d needed a reminder that Russ’s interest in her was pretend, it was right in front of her. There were several other photos of the two together, and she looked at each one before she typed in her credit card number and made a donation in Billy’s name. She’d known Russ would move on fast; she’d expected it. Now it was her turn.
She cut the heat under the vegetables and decided to shower. She could finish the soup tomorrow, and she didn’t want to smell like celery, carrots, and onions for her date. She picked up Billy and headed for the stairs. Eligible banker, here I come.
A car pulled into the driveway just as she reached the front door. Kim was early—really early. She opened the door and waited. “I could have sworn I told you six thirty.”
“You did.” Kim grinned at Billy. “You haven’t gone out on a date in a year. I figured you might want some extra prep time since Holly’s out of town.”
“This is a conspiracy, isn’t it?”
“Yup.”
Billy leaned forward until she was forced to transfer him to Kim’s arms. “You, too, little man? I thought we were a team.”
Kim shooed her up the stairs. “Go primp. I feel certain there’s a wooden puzzle around here with our name on it. Feel free to leave early and come home late. We’re good.”
“Thanks, Kim. I’ll take a quick shower and sneak out the front door.” She started up the stairs and paused. “Oh, and don’t answer if Ethan calls. I’m chasing ratings with an unusual media strategy, and he’s been squawking about me being an unfit mother. I don’t really want him to know I’ve got a sitter.”
“That’s ridiculous. As if he would know what a fit parent looked like.”
Kim’s expression twisted with so much scorn Susannah was stunned. A sudden suspicion made her stomach turn. “Please tell me he didn’t try anything—”
“Of course he did.”
“I’m so sorry,” Susannah said quietly.
The younger woman rolled her eyes. “I never blamed you. Now get a move on.”
…
Susannah opened the door of the coffee shop and scanned the room for a Clark Kent look-alike, hoping he was already here. The last thing she needed to do was sit and wait for him, sucking down caffeine, shredding her nerves and her cuticles. Her anxiety cranked tighter. This was why she didn’t date. She could be home right now, giving Billy a bath and putting him to bed.
“Susannah?”
She turned and stared, stunned by brilliant blue eyes, a lantern jaw, dark hair with a curly lock falling over his forehead, and yes, even a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. He was jaw-droppingly gorgeous—and she didn’t feel a thing. Disappointment hit her like a fist in the gut.
“Not what you were expecting?” he asked.
She realized she was still staring. “I’m sorry—you’re exactly what I was expecting. Holly warned me you looked like Clark Kent.” She held out her hand, still hoping, but she didn’t even feel a flicker of attraction when their hands touched. What was wrong with her? Several women in line were eyeing him like he belonged in the pastry case.
“She did, huh?” His self-deprecating grin was adorable. There was no hope for her if a guy like this left her cold.
“So what do you do, Adam? Holly mentioned you work at a bank?” Maybe she just needed to get to know him.
“I manage the area branches. Not as exciting as being on TV, but it pays the bills and gives me time to do other things.”
“And you like to cook? And stay home on weekends? And watch TV? And you like kids?”
His blue eyes gleamed. “I also enjoy reading, running, Scrabble, and long walks in nice weather.” He was laughing at her, but she didn’t care.
“I bet you also open doors, kiss your mother hello and good-bye—”
“I also pay for coffee. What would you like?”
She sighed. Not even a single spark. “Cappuccino, whole milk, please.”
“Dessert?”
She shook her head. “I’ve eaten a gallon of ice cream every night this week. I’m all set.”
The silence was strangely comfortable as they waited for their drinks and his cake. When they were seated at a table by the fire, he took a sip of his black coffee and said, “I’m guessing by the conflicted expression on your face I’m about to get the brush-off.”
She hadn’t expected him to be so direct. “It’s not you…”
He chuckled. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I deliberately nudged your friend Holly with my shopping cart when I noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring?”
Relief rushed through her, and her hand shook, pouring too-hot cappuccino into her mouth. She swallowed and then hissed to cool her tongue.
“Sorry—was that my fault?” His solicitous expression made her giggle. He was bumbling Clark Kent to a tee, and if he had Superman under there somewhere, Holly was in trouble.
She shook her head. “Nope—all me. Did you ask her out? How did you end up with my number?”
“She said no. Is that horrible to admit? Now you’re probably thinking I’m using you to get to her.” He slid the cake and a fork across the table. “Here—I got this to share. I figured a gallon of ice cream every night meant you were looking to fill a void, too.”
She gazed at him, trying to decide whether to be offended because when she said no, she meant no, or amused because he was right. “How did you know which cake I would like?”
He cocked one brow. “Was I right?”
She picked up the fork and took a big bite, watching him as she chewed and swallowed. Hazelnut and chocolate were her favorites. “I really did want to meet a nice banker who likes kids.”
“And I really do love your show, which is how I knew what cake you’d like. No reason we can’t be friends.” They’d just met, but somehow it felt like they already were, especially when he picked up the other fork and snagged a bite of the cake.
“No reason at all…and friends help each other out, right?” An idea was brewing in the back of her mind. Bergman had loved her proposal for the second show, but she felt it was missing something. Since most of Russ’s status updates had invited her to join him in adventures in various locations around the world, she’d planned a cooking show at home, thinking a quiet dinner with Billy would have him climbing the walls, but maybe this would be even better. The more the merrier, right?
The next hour passed quickly as they hashed out the details and set up a dinner date at her house for the following weekend. Adam was excited by the idea of being on television, and he was familiar with the recipes she had planned. However, in order to pull off the show, he’d also need to be familiar with her kitchen and her way of working. “I have to warn you.
Holly doesn’t usually go for nice guys. That’s probably why she said no.”
“I’m not that nice. I’ll get under her skin one way or another. Speaking of skin, should we discuss what’s going on with you and Russ Donovan? I’ve heard a few things about At Home in the Wild.”
“There’s nothing going on.” Russ was in Washington kissing the cheek of a woman who looked half in love with him. “Trust me.”
…
Russ took one last look around the crowded ballroom. They’d reached their goal. Five million dollars. His parents were making the announcement any minute, and the search for an endowed chair for Lance’s fund had already begun.
Allie stood about ten feet from him, champagne in hand, waiting for the toast. As if summoned by his gaze, she turned. She looked at him for a long moment and then raised her glass. He nodded once and gave her a tight smile. It had been a long, hard week for both of them.
He scanned the room looking for Stan. When he caught the man’s gaze, Russ turned toward the door, raised his arms, and made the military hand signal for “move out.”
Washington held too many memories, and his back burned as if the tattoo were fresh. When he posed for pictures with his family, he felt agony in the distance between them. His parents would never forgive him, and he couldn’t blame them. Now that they were six years further down the research road, he understood what he’d stolen from them. Lance shouldn’t have left treatment. If Russ had refused to take him, his brother never would have traveled alone and might have gone into remission. It happened. Every day.
He rubbed his chest where a sense of dread had built all week. It didn’t matter if he wanted to climb or not—he was going. The least he could do was keep his promise to his brother.
Is that why you push yourself so hard? He heard Susannah’s voice in his head. Damn straight it was, but now he had another reason: to keep himself away from her.
A constant pulse of lust beat through him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. On one hand, it had gotten him through a lot of boring meetings this week, driving him to be even more charming than usual to hide the restless edge of frustration slicing through his nerves. On the other hand, he was losing his mind. What little of it was left kept picturing her in leopard-print fleece. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her looking at him, dark eyes wide. He heard her telling him she was scared and then saying yes. When he licked his lips he remembered the rich taste of her and ached.