The Risk-Taker

by Kira Sinclair

  That he’d almost died.

  A familiar temper that she thought she’d dealt with years ago punched through her. Logically, she realized she shouldn’t be upset with him for serving his country. And, really, she didn’t want to be. He’d made an honorable career choice.

  One that had almost killed him.

  Hope rolled her shoulders, and fought the urge to reach out and touch him—to make sure that he was real and there, instead of stuck in some dark hole in the middle of a hostile country.

  To her, enlisting had been tantamount to Gage signing his own death warrant. She knew him too well. He was constantly pushing boundaries, testing himself and everyone around him. And it wasn’t as if he’d been destined for a desk job. Oh, no, it had been the front lines or nothing for him. From the moment he’d signed up his intention had been to get that Ranger Tab. And he’d done it.

  But the thought of losing someone else she cared about... Hope just couldn’t do it.

  Not that it had mattered any when the phone call about his capture had come into the newsroom. She hadn’t talked to him in twelve years and it had still felt as if her world was suddenly spinning out of control. She couldn’t concentrate on anything and didn’t sleep more than a couple hours at a time until he’d been rescued.

  So he was home and safe with only a few scars to show for the adventure. That status quo wouldn’t keep, and Hope knew it.

  The butterflies swarmed up her throat, choking her. She swallowed them back down. And jerked her gaze straight up to Gage’s. He watched her, frowning.

  Throwing her a dark glance, he grabbed a chair from another table and spun it close. “Gage,” Lexi yelped when he picked her up, chair and all, to make room. Her embarrassed gaze darted around. “What are you doing?”

  With a negligent shrug, he set her down again and insinuated himself between Hope and Lexi. “Hiding.”

  “Well, you suck at it,” Hope said. “You stick out like a sore thumb.”

  Willow gasped at her unintended pun. Hope cringed inwardly and fought the urge to look at the appendage she’d inadvertently brought into the conversation. Her nose wrinkled. Gage’s eyes narrowed.

  Crossing his arms over that wide chest, he sprawled into his chair. Hope was worried the spindly back might give from his sheer power.

  “A sore thumb, huh?”

  Hope’s throat went dry, but she ignored it. Nodding, she raised an eyebrow and decided to brazen it out. “I would have expected someone with your training would be better at blending in, that’s all.”

  “What do you know about my training?” He watched her, his gaze steady and unwavering even as it bored into her.

  “Enough.” From the moment she’d heard Gage had been captured she’d found herself doing internet searches on everything she could find about the Rangers. She’d wanted to know just how much danger he’d been in.

  The thought of him being tortured... It was one thing to realize he faced death every single day, but the kind of continued pain and suffering those white bandages represented was so much worse.

  A taunting smile played at the corner of Gage’s mouth, doing nothing more than tugging up the edges. He’d always had the best smile. The kind of lopsided imperfection that carried a healthy dose of roguish charm.

  Hope realized she hadn’t seen that smile once since he’d been home. Something tightened in the center of her chest. Absentmindedly, she reached up and rubbed the spot. Gage’s gaze followed the motion, snagging on the scooped neckline of her strapless dress.

  Heat flamed up her chest. Quickly, she moved her hand up to circle her throat and grabbed the pendant hanging there instead. The prongs from the setting dug into her and so did the tiny kernel of guilt for what she was about to do.

  But it was too late to stop, even if she wanted to. Which she didn’t.

  Gage shifted beside her. The tight seam of his uniform jacket strained against his shoulders. Lexi said something to him, Hope wasn’t even sure what. He turned away, releasing her from the pressure that had been building...until his arm dropped carelessly over the scalloped edge of her chair. Warm fingers brushed the curve of her naked shoulder. She nearly knocked Lanie’s drink over when she jackknifed away from the contact.

  Several pairs of shocked eyes—but not Gage’s—turned to look at her. Luckily she was saved from coming up with an explanation when Mrs. Copeland walked to the podium in all her heirloom jewelry and big-hair glory.

  * * *

  A HUSH RIPPLED THROUGH the crowd. Gage suppressed the need to ruin the moment by dropping a glass to the floor or knocking one of the large floral centerpieces over. It was a childish urge and most of him realized that, but old habits died hard and troublemaker had been the only role he’d ever filled at these events until now.

  To distract himself, he leaned forward, making some unnecessary comment to one of Lexi’s friends just so he could brush his fingertips across the smooth surface of Hope’s skin again. A shiver rippled through her body. He felt it, relished the reaction.

  Perhaps his commanding officer was right and he was a masochist. He thought he’d learned his lesson with Hope a very long time ago, but apparently not.

  Although, he had always loved playing with fire. Loved the excitement, the adrenaline, the knowledge that the reward was always better when you had to battle for what you wanted.

  It was gratifying to realize Hope wasn’t as immune to him as she’d like.

  A spotlight cut through the intentional gloom and wrapped around Mrs. Copeland.

  Leaning closer to Hope, he brought his lips to her ear and whispered, “Isn’t that the same dress she wore our senior year?”

  She choked, making a desperate wheezing sound in the back of her throat even as she threw him a warning glare.

  “Welcome to our annual Cupid’s Couple festival,” Mrs. Copeland began.

  Everyone around him, including Hope, burst into applause. Gage didn’t bother. Not only was he less than enthusiastic about the whole damn thing, but it also would have required him to move his hand and he rather liked where it was.

  “For our guests who aren’t familiar with our little tradition, over fifty years ago the citizens of Sweetheart decided Valentine’s Day was the perfect opportunity to pair off our single young people. The first event was a modest dance, but since then it’s grown into this weeklong celebration.”

  She bestowed a benevolent smile across the entire crowd as if she was solely responsible for this boom in attendance. And she probably thought she was. For as long as he could remember Mrs. Copeland had been running an etiquette school for young men and women.

  He’d been kicked out around age thirteen. The lizard he’d put down the back of her dress had died a valiant death for a good cause. To steal a phrase from Mrs. Copeland herself, bless his squished heart.

  “For the past week our town Cupid has been receiving nominations for those interested in participating in our festivities. Tonight the fun begins when each of our young ladies is paired with an escort for the week.

  “While we don’t expect everyone will fall madly in love...” Mrs. Copeland winked conspiratorially at the crowd. The gesture might have worked if her false eyelashes hadn’t been so heavy that she could barely open her eye again. “I’ll be surprised if we don’t have several permanent matches after the festivities are over.

  “But don’t worry, there’s plenty of fun even if Cupid’s arrow doesn’t strike true. The town and many of our businesses have sponsored group events, donated dates and exciting prizes for everyone to enjoy.”

  Mrs. Copeland frowned. “Now, for those of you who remember the little mishap from several years ago—” the frown tightened into a fierce glare that swept across the crowd “—never fear. Anyone nominated without their consent will have the opportunity to buy their way out of the events. But you must do it immediately because this get-out-of-jail option is only available tonight.

  “But I’m certain we won’t have anyone taking advantage of that
this year. I’ve seen the list and I think our Cupid made some excellent choices.”

  Snapping open a piece of white paper with a huge red Cupid watermarked right in the middle, Mrs. Copeland instructed the men to come to the stage to present small bouquets of pink-and-orange roses someone had prepared.

  “Dennis Schroeder and Melissa Thompson.” A boy—probably sixteen or seventeen—moved to the front of the room. A pretty blond girl jumped up and followed immediately behind him. She beamed up at him when he handed her the flowers and it was evident the two were already a couple.

  The room buzzed with a myriad of emotions as name after name was read. Some people were obviously happy. Others were surprised. No one seemed upset...yet. Several of Lexi’s friends were called away, although none of them appeared particularly excited about the prospect they’d been given.

  Another name was read, one he didn’t recognize. Gage didn’t pay much attention, assuming the guy was an outsider, until Mrs. Copeland read out his sister’s name. “Alexis Harper.”

  Beside him, his sister bounced out of her chair. With a wide smile on her face, he watched her wind through the tables up to the front of the room and realized he’d met the stranger, after all. It was the same guy who’d come in behind him at Sugar & Spice. And he did not like the way this guy was looking at his sister.

  Gage clenched his hands beneath the table. His thumbs throbbed, but he ignored the pain. His entire body bunched with the intention of jumping up to wipe that satisfied smirk off his smug face. But a hand slapped down onto his thigh and tightened warningly.

  “Don’t,” Hope breathed. “She knows what she’s doing. She paid to be paired with him.”

  His eyes burned with the trapped heat of resentment when he turned them at Hope. But she didn’t budge, and neither did her hand. In fact, her grip tightened. As if that was enough to keep him seated at the table if he didn’t want to stay.

  But somehow he found himself doing just that. He stared into her green-gold eyes and his hard muscles suddenly eased. The startlingly quick and disturbing need to lash out at something—the guy ogling his sister would have worked—disappeared.

  He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air that smelled just like her—crisp, sharp but somehow still mysteriously sexy.

  “I’ve saved the best for last. Gage Harper.”

  Startled, he jerked away from Hope, grateful for the distraction. Until the reason Mrs. Copeland was calling his name sank in.

  The entire room stared expectantly at him. After everything he’d been through in the past few weeks—torture, rescue, hospital, debriefing and media circus—being the center of attention should have been easy. It wasn’t. Gage hated all the attention. How could having the barrel of a gun digging into the side of his skull feel less dangerous than having every eye in the crowd on him?

  “I know most of you are aware of the events leading up to Gage’s return home. And while we won’t be getting into that this week, I’m certain no one will be surprised to learn that the committee recently voted to make the Wounded Warrior Project the beneficiary of this year’s events.”

  Mrs. Copeland held out the final bouquet of roses and gestured toward him. Gage’s gaze darted restlessly around the room, looking for anything or anyone that might rescue him from this moment. His eyes landed on his mother, the woman beaming at him. Next to her, his father sat tall and straight in the uncomfortable chair. For the first time he could remember, pride filled his eyes.

  The shock of that reaction, more than anything else, had Gage standing. The entire room erupted into applause. Somehow he found himself beside Mrs. Copeland as she read out, “Hope Rawlings.”

  Murmurs bounced through the crowd, although he wasn’t sure what they meant. Were they as shocked as he was? He wasn’t sure how to react. Or what Hope might do. That’s why he stood there, frozen, every muscle in his body tense.

  She shifted restlessly on her chair and for a moment he was sure she was about to decline the match. Great. Of all the people they could have paired him with.

  He wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten on the damn list. Probably his mom. Or sister. He’d kill them later.

  No doubt whoever this year’s Cupid was had thought to do him a favor. Everyone knew he and Hope had been friends. Not everyone knew they weren’t anymore. They’d probably figured Hope was safe.

  Boy, were they wrong.

  A frown rippled across Hope’s face before she wiped it away. She obviously didn’t want this any more than he did. Spreading his hips wide, he braced for what was coming as if he could find his center of gravity and counter the blow just like he had inside that ring.

  To his surprise, it never came. Instead, Hope slowly pushed up from the table and began walking toward him. A hush fell over the crowd, the quietest he’d heard them all night. He wasn’t the only one waiting to see what Hope would do.

  The spotlight that had illuminated Mrs. Copeland swung to her. It bathed her in a golden light, making her warm blond hair glow.

  Maybe she was just coming up front so she could look at the crowd when she announced that she’d be using that escape clause and paying to extricate herself from an unwanted week paired with him. But the closer she moved to the stage the less certain he was that she was going to reject the match. Her mouth stayed stubbornly shut, pressed tightly into a straight line.

  Then it hit him. She couldn’t do that without looking like a complete bitch. Thanks to his capture and rescue he’d become the town golden boy. No one would forgive her for rejecting him now—especially in front of a room full of strangers.

  Gage opened his mouth to do it for her, but even as his lips parted, he realized the words wouldn’t come.

  Hope stopped in front of him. The room shrank down to just the two of them, everyone else fading away. He looked down into her bright eyes and realized they were full of dread and hope. Her hands stayed solidly at her side, clasped together, as if she didn’t expect him to actually offer her the bouquet he was holding.

  Her eyes pleaded with him. This was his chance for a little payback. To reject her publicly in front of the entire town.

  He couldn’t do it.

  Slowly, he extended the flowers, offering them to her. The entire room sighed, as if they’d been collectively holding their breaths.

  Gage was surprised to see a slight tremble in her hand when she reached for the bouquet and brought it against her chest.

  But Gage didn’t relinquish the flowers. Instead, he let his knuckles brush against the soft satin of her dress and used the stiff stems to pull her into his body. Leaning down, he touched his lips to her ear and whispered so only she could hear.

  “Watching you squirm is going to be so much fun.”

  5

  WELL, SHE’D GOTTEN exactly what she wanted—Gage’s undivided attention. Unfortunately, it took exactly thirty minutes to realize the plan was backfiring.

  Hope desperately needed a few minutes away from the constant weight of his stare. Even from across the room, where she’d gone to grab a drink—finally—she could feel him watching her.

  Jenna grasped her arm, yanked her out of line and dragged her through the swinging door into the small catering kitchen. “Oh, my Mary and Joseph, how did that happen?”

  The moment the door shut behind them, blunting the music and laughter from the party, the rubber band of tension that stretched through her body eased. Her shoulders no longer felt tight enough to snap.

  It should have been a relief. It wasn’t. Instead, Hope found herself looking through the small round circle of glass cut into the center of the door, searching for someone she wasn’t supposed to care anything about.

  “Hope.” Jenna shook her, pulling her attention back where it should be. “Concentrate, girl. Why didn’t you buy your way out of this? Gage Harper? Someone must be playing a joke.”

  “If they were I’d be the butt of it. How do you think it would have looked if I’d publicly humiliated the town hero? I couldn’t h
ave done that even if I’d wanted to.”

  Jenna opened her mouth before snapping it shut again. Her eyes narrowed as they searched Hope’s face. Hope felt her skin warm beneath the too-keen stare.

  “If you’d wanted to. Meaning you didn’t want to.”

  She shrugged and glanced guiltily away.

  “Hope Rawlings, what did you do?”

  “Bought him,” she mumbled beneath her breath. She hadn’t meant to tell anyone, but somehow it made the guilt that had swamped her the moment Mrs. Copeland read her name a little easier to bear.

  “You did what?” her friend screeched.

  Hope slapped a hand across Jenna’s big mouth. “Hush.” They might be in the back kitchen, but that didn’t mean the walls weren’t thin enough for anyone on the other side to hear if Jenna was loud enough.

  Jenna peeled Hope’s fingers away and whispered around them, “Why the hell would you do that? Only a handful of people know about what happened, but...don’t you think that’s kinda cruel? The man told you he loved you.”

  “We were eighteen. He didn’t know love from lust,” Hope countered, although even she didn’t quite believe that. But even if he had then—and she wasn’t ready to admit that—he certainly didn’t now.

  “Is this because he almost died?”

  “No,” Hope protested, although the word didn’t quite taste right. “That has nothing to do with this. I want that story, Jenna. If I can get it I’m pretty much guaranteed a job with the Courier.”

  Jenna stared at her. “This is about a story?”

  “What else would it be about?”

  Her friend frowned. “I don’t know. Realizing you were wrong to let him go? Love? Isn’t that what this entire week is about?”

  “You thought...” Hope’s words trailed off to nothing.

  Jenna was happy to fill the void. “That Gage’s brush with death forced you to admit you’ve always cared about him? Absolutely.”

  “Of course I care about him, Jenna.”

  Jenna made a rude sound in the back of her throat. “There’s a difference between caring and caring. Not wanting to care and not caring aren’t the same thing.”