Instead, he grabbed a spoon and dipped it into a large bowl of melted chocolate. Closing his eyes, he breathed, “Heaven.” It had been a very long time since he’d tasted something so good. Gourmet chocolate wasn’t exactly normal fare in the mess hall.
Finally, Lexi slid through the curtain. She shot forward, smacking his spoon away just as he was going in for another taste. “That’s a food safety violation, you idiot. I’ll have to throw the whole batch away if you put that spoon back in.”
“No one will know. I won’t tell if you don’t.” Lexi glared at him, but there was no heat behind the empty gesture.
“Who was that guy?” Gage asked, using the spoon he’d licked clean to point up front.
Lexi shrugged, but he didn’t miss the faint pink that stained her cheeks. “Tourist in for the week.”
Oh, no. He knew that look on his sister’s face. From twelve to twenty-six it hadn’t changed. She was terrible at hiding her thoughts—or her interest in the opposite sex. “Men don’t usually come to Sweetheart for Valentine’s week alone, Lex.” He tapped the end of her nose with the edge of his spoon. “Don’t let this week go to your head.”
Her eyes, as dark as the chocolate he’d just tasted, dulled and she frowned. “Like I could.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gage asked.
“Nothing.” Lexi waved her comment away, the short spurt of sadness disappearing almost as quickly as it had come up. “So Mama’s seen the shiner...has Daddy?”
She crossed over to the long line of work counters, pulling out a tray of the biggest strawberries he’d ever seen, and began dipping them into the vat of melted chocolate. She placed them on a waxed paper–covered tray and then drizzled white chocolate and a thin strand of caramel across the surface. Gage’s mouth began to water.
“Uh...no,” he said, scooting closer to better position himself for a sneak attack.
She eyed him and without even breaking the routine of dip-and-drizzle repositioned her body as a barrier between him and those strawberries. “You gonna tell me what happened?” she asked, picking up the first berry and handing it to him. “Be careful, it’s still wet. Consider that a bribe to leave the rest of my inventory alone. I’m worried I’ll be short this week as it is.”
Gage took a huge bite of the strawberry, the perfect combination of tart and sweet. It was also the perfect excuse not to answer her question. Telling her what he’d been doing would lead to why he’d been doing it, and he just didn’t want to go there. Especially with his baby sister.
Instead, he chose to distract her with a less revealing confession. “I’ve been home two days and I’m already bored out of my mind. I’m not used to an entire day with no purpose. I need to...do something.”
“And you thought going to Baxter to fight in some underground ring would help?”
Gage nearly choked. “How do you know about that?”
“Hope is one of my best friends.” It was Lexi’s turn to pop him with the back of a spoon. “You don’t think she’d mention seeing you at a place like that?”
He hadn’t realized Hope had become that close with his sister. Growing up, it had been he and Hope who’d been inseparable. And although they hadn’t talked in years, he wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Hope being so chummy with Lexi.
Lexi dropped the last berry onto the tray. “What the hell were you thinkin’? You shouldn’t have walked off and left her there, Gage. She could have gotten into some serious trouble.”
She wasn’t saying anything Gage hadn’t already thought. He’d been halfway home on his dad’s vintage Harley before his temper had cooled enough that his brain kicked in. When would he learn to stop and think before erupting?
He’d turned around and gone back to look for her, but she’d already left.
It was nice to know she’d gotten home okay, though. One weight out of many he could let drop from his shoulders.
“She never should have been there, Lex.”
The punch of anger and disappointment he’d felt last night when he’d realized why Hope had followed him resurfaced.
He called himself ten different kinds of fool for the brief spurt of excitement and anticipation when he’d seen her. You’d think being told you were an idiot with a death wish and having your declaration of feelings thrown back in your face would have killed any desire to have her.
Apparently not.
Even now he could remember that last night, twelve years ago. They’d been at the gazebo. It had been late, close to midnight, the town long past quiet and asleep. But he was wired from enlisting, excited about the possibilities of the life he was about to start, and hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d called her and asked her to meet him.
Watching her walk down the aisle surrounded by the ghost of empty chairs had galvanized something inside him. Suddenly he wanted—needed—her with him on the adventure he was about to start. Hope had always been there for him, with an eye roll, rebuke or encouragement depending on what the situation needed. When he’d screwed up and lost his scholarship to Clemson, and couldn’t escape his dad’s wrath, she’d been there to tell him everything would be fine. She had faith in him when no one else, including himself, did.
But when he’d needed her the most she’d completely flaked on him. He could still see her wild-eyed reaction to his confession that he loved her. He hadn’t meant to tell her, it had just slipped out.
Part of him had always known she’d reject him. He must have asked her out a hundred times, but the answer was always the same. The first time they’d probably been eight or nine and it had quickly become a running joke between them. He’d ask her out in the most ridiculous, cheesy ways possible. And she’d always say no.
Even he wasn’t exactly sure when it stopped being funny and started being real. But Hope hadn’t noticed the difference and he’d been too much of a coward to make her see.
Even back then everyone thought he was so strong. Her rejection had been the one thing that scared the hell out of him.
She’d been so angry with him that night. Upset that he’d enlisted. Angry that he’d done it without talking to her about the decision. And when he’d wrapped his arms around her and told her he loved her she’d pushed him away.
Exactly what he’d always feared. But he’d survived her rejection and a heck of a lot worse since then. His thumbs throbbed dully as if he needed the reminder.
Why was he reliving the memory? Probably because seeing her last night, being in this place especially around Valentine’s Day, brought everything rushing back.
It shouldn’t bother him that she’d followed him to that fight with ulterior motives, but it did. “She came looking for a story, just like all the other buzzards circling around this place.” He despised the bitterness in his own voice.
“Not like all the others. Hope is a friend, Gage. The two of you used to be real close. If you’re going to talk to anyone, it should be her. Hope is family.”
He snorted. “She’s far from that.”
Lexi frowned at him, narrowing her eyes. “I have no idea what happened between you two, and I don’t wanna know, but nothing she could have done makes leaving her in a place like that okay.”
With a sigh, Lexi switched the subject. “Since you’re so bored, I’m sure Mama would be happy to find you a job. Cupid’s Couples starts tonight with the matching. Did you put your name in?”
“Hell, no.” The last thing Gage needed was a week full of candy hearts, wilted flowers and awkward dinners with a stranger. And even if he had grown up with most of the single women in the town, after twelve years away they were all strangers. “I just escaped one hell, why would I sign up for another?”
“Didn’t you hear? They’re donating all the money raised to the Wounded Warrior Project in honor of your friend Tanner.”
“Well, fu—” Lexi glared at him “—dge.” He’d planned to ignore the whole damn thing. Stay at home and refuse to attend. But now, there was no way he could blow the ev
ents off. Showing up was the least he could do for Tanner.
Before he could ask Lexi for suggestions on how he might help, the front bell rang again. And again. And again. Feet shuffled against the polished floor. Several voices rang out, “Hello!” and someone slammed a palm down onto the display case, rattling the glass countertop.
“What the hell,” Lexi grumbled.
In full-on big-brother mode, Gage followed quickly behind her, but didn’t get farther than the curtain before Lexi slapped her hands onto his chest and pushed him backward.
“Get back. Get back,” she ordered, her eyes full of fire.
Gage caught enough of a glimpse to recognize the horde of reporters who now filled Lexi’s store. Jostling for position at the counter, they held high-powered cameras with special lenses, pens poised above notepads and video cameras with blinking red lights.
Damn, he hated the media.
He really wished one of the other guys would get released from the hospital. Not just because he needed them to be okay, but because then maybe some of these vultures would start circling their lives for the details about the capture and rescue.
He let his sister shove him deeper into the kitchen. “You can slip out the back door. Take the alley,” she suggested.
Considering the alternative, that was exactly what he was going to do. “Make ’em buy something. The most expensive item you have in the store. And then tell them I’m staying at the old Jones place out by the lake. It’s still empty, right?”
“Yeah.”
The place had been abandoned for as long as he could remember, but it was on the far side of the lake on the outskirts of town, which meant he’d have at least an hour of peace before they realized Lexi’s lie and headed back.
Unfortunately, he had to walk straight across Main in order to get back to his parents’ house. Which meant he needed to find some place to lay low until the plague was gone.
Gage glanced up and down the alley. The bridal salon was two doors down from Sugar & Spice, but the thought of going in there made those cameras look almost appealing. Scent of Woman might have been an option, Lanie’s mother had always loved him, but he really didn’t want to smell like a flower the rest of the day. Which also left Petals, the florist, out.
His eyes skipped across the back door to the Sweetheart Sentinel, and then jerked back again. The newspaper. Probably the last place the journalists he was trying to escape would look for him. So the first place he should hide. It had been a long time since he’d seen Mr. Rawlings, although he wasn’t sure the man had ever liked him much.
But Gage was willing to take his chances.
3
DARTING DOWN THE NARROW passage, Gage grasped the back door and pulled it open. He half expected to walk into chaos—probably thanks to false Hollywood portrayals. Instead, everything was quiet. Oh, there were people working. He could hear the hushed rumble of voices, the clack of keyboards and the faint buzzing of a telephone.
He rounded the corner to a cubicle and stuck his head inside. Erica McNeil looked up from her computer screen, a startled expression on her face. “Gage Harper. What are you doing here?” Her shy gaze darted away from his. “How’d you get in?”
“Back door.” He grinned and leaned against the hard metal edge of her cubicle wall.
“What happened to your face? Is that from...” Her voice trailed off, her eyes widened and a faint blush crept up her pale cheeks. Everyone either wanted all the details of his capture and torture or they wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened. Apparently Erica was in the latter group.
“Nope. I ran into a door.”
Her already-large eyes rounded more with surprise...and then narrowed to slits. Erica was about six or seven years older than he was and had babysat Lexi a few times. She always had been gullible.
“Stop harassing Erica.”
Hope’s voice sounded behind him. Gage smiled, although Erica was the only one to see it because before he spun around, he’d wiped it clean.
Adopting an air of innocence, he turned slowly to look at her. Her hands were balled into fists and lodged firmly on her hips. Her toe tapped against the worn carpeted floor, drawing his gaze down the long length of her legs. Up and down, up and down, the red sole of her black high heels flashed like a beacon.
He always had been a leg man and he had to admit Hope had a nice pair. Was it his imagination or were they even more toned than before?
Gage forced his gaze back up her body, taking in the tight skirt, silk blouse and matching suit jacket she wore. She looked like a high-powered businesswoman. Someone ready to take on the world and stomp it beneath the spiked heel of her shoe.
She was seriously overdressed for the Sweetheart Sentinel. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Hank, her father, wearing anything that resembled a business suit. Not even a blazer when he’d been honored by the town council as citizen of the year. He wondered if anyone had told Hope that. Not that he cared.
“I wasn’t harassing anyone, was I, Erica?” he asked, shooting her a disarming smile over his shoulder.
Erica’s gaze swung between them. Without answering his question, she swiveled in her chair, giving them her back and returning her focus to her computer screen.
Hope eyed him. He noticed how her gaze lingered on the damage to his face. But unlike everyone else, she knew exactly how he’d gotten the injuries. And unlike everyone else, she didn’t remark on them, but turned and walked away.
He followed. How could he not? The view of her tight rear was so tempting. The slit at the back of her skirt swished back and forth as she walked. It brushed against the inside of her thighs. Gage couldn’t tear his eyes away. Desire, hot and hard, punched through him. He almost stumbled.
After a quick, calming breath, Gage followed her inside the office just in time to watch her sink gracefully into the chair behind a large desk. The blotter was perfectly clean. Two folders, neatly labeled, sat to her left. A matching tape dispenser, stapler and hole punch were lined up beside them along with a cup of pens and a basket of paper clips. Just like her flawless suit, there was no clutter.
He wanted to loosen her up. To unravel that elegant twist in her hair and tousle it with his fingers. To pop open a few of those tightly closed buttons so that he could see the lace camisole beneath. To scrape everything off her desk and lay her out beneath him...
Oh, crap, where had that come from?
“Are you here to give me that interview, Gage?”
Clearing his throat and tossing the unwanted fantasy away, he dropped into the chair across from her. “Hell, no.” He sprawled, his long legs reaching beneath the desk to brush against the toe of her shoe.
She pulled it back. Gage’s lips twitched.
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m hiding.”
“From whom?”
“Does it matter?”
She studied him for several seconds before slowly saying, “Yes, I think it does.”
Gage shrugged. “Some reporters tracked me into Lexi’s store. I have no idea how they found me.” He placed his elbows on the opposite edge and leaned halfway across her desk. She started to back away, but stopped herself. He stared straight at her, hard and deadly, just for the fun of watching her eyes flash indignantly. “Any idea how they could have known I was in there?”
Hope’s mouth tightened with annoyance. “You’re kidding, right? Your photograph was splashed on every news outlet for weeks. They’ve been camped out here since before you were rescued. Unless you walk around town with a paper bag over your head, you’re doomed.”
“Don’t you think the paper bag would defeat the purpose? I mean, isn’t that a little conspicuous?”
Hope’s mouth twisted into a pitiful approximation of a smile. “Funny. And as much as I’d love to help you—” her tone of voice called that statement all kinds of liar “—we have a business to run, Gage. So unless you’re here for official reasons—”
“I’m not giving you an intervi
ew.”
“—you need to leave.”
She stood up from her desk, tugged at the hem of her skirt to make sure it was straight and walked around to stand expectantly beside him. Gage didn’t move. Instead, he turned his head and got a great view of the curve of her hip and ass. Why would he want to leave? He was perfectly happy right here.
Slowly, his eyes tracked upward. His head dropped back so he could see the tight expression on her face. Old habits died hard and he wanted to do something completely inappropriate to wipe it away. “You’re going to throw me out? In my time of need?”
“You forget, I know you’re about as helpless as a rattlesnake. And if I needed a reminder, you gave it to me last night. Out.” She hitched a thumb over her shoulder toward her open doorway.
Reluctantly, Gage unfolded from the chair. But instead of going around the opposite side, he crowded into Hope’s personal space. She didn’t back down. He’d always admired her tenacity. It probably made her a damn good journalist. Well, it would have if she’d had the chance to sink her teeth into any stories.
Dread and anticipation coiled through him as he realized he was the story she’d decided to sink into. A vision of her pert mouth stretched wide as her sharp teeth dug into his naked hip almost made him groan.
He wanted to grab her, to pull her into him and kiss her until he forgot everything but the feel of her mouth. It wasn’t a new desire, although he hadn’t felt it in a very long time. How inconvenient for it to suddenly resurface.
She must have realized something had changed because she stepped back. Her spine pressed into the wall. Her palms flattened against the uninteresting tan surface. The drab background only served to emphasize the stark contrast of her pink-tinged skin and watchful, wary green-gold eyes.
She drew in a deep breath, her breasts rising against the tight confines of her jacket. She held it for several seconds before blowing it slowly out again. That kind of control had always fascinated Gage. Hope was so...contained.
The Risk-Taker Page 3