Risking It All

by Christi Barth

  “What does that mean? I get to choose the radio stations on the drive down to Raleigh?”

  “It means I love you. I love you so much it makes me crazy, which seems just the right amount.” He fished in his uniform trouser pocket. Then he tossed a silver ring in the air. As it turned and twisted, the sunlight caught the enormous solitaire diamond and almost blinded her with a prism of color. When he caught it, Griffin shoved it back into his pocket. “Mom gave me that last night. It used to be my grandmother’s. She thought I could give it to the right girl. I’m certain you’re the right one for me, Chloe. But the choice—and the risk—is entirely in your hands. You’ll have to ask me for it when you’re good and ready.”

  How was it that tears on eyelash tips felt like ten-pound dumbbells? Chloe blinked fast to clear her vision. She wasn’t risking a thing giving her heart to Griffin. He’d keep it safe better than anyone. “That is the most romantic thing you could ever do.”

  “Don’t sell me short. I’m just getting started,” he said, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her to the car.

  “I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

  THREE WEEKS LATER

  Chloe spent a long time choosing just the right paper—a pale cream card stock with a thin strip of edging the same blue topaz as Griff’s eyes. These colors were a clue. A hint. A teaser of what would hopefully become a handful of white peonies tied with a ribbon of that same blue. She scrabbled through her bag to find a rollerball pen in the exact shade.

  “Would you let me buy that for you?”

  Her head shot up to discover Knox and Griff standing in front of her table at Busboys and Poets. As usual, her heartbeat revved up into triple time at the sight of her handsome boyfriend. Well, Griff always knocked her socks off, but in his service dress white uniform he looked like a full-blown hero. Not that Chloe would ever call him that to his face. She knew her man well enough to know that he’d reject both the compliment and the appellation.

  Hastily, she shoved the special paper beneath her iPad. “Buy what? This pen? Not only is possession nine-tenths of the law, but I already plunked down three dollars on it.”

  Crazy elegant in a pale gray suit that fit him so well Chloe would believe a team of tailors sewed him into it that morning, Knox waved an arm at her. “The booth. The table. You know, endow it like a chair at the symphony. With a little plaque so that nobody else ever sits there.”

  “I don’t mind switching seats every so often. It gives me a different view of the world. I might decide I like it.” Although probably not, since she’d spent quite a few weeks testing every seat in the place for optimal light, minimal drafts, and the best direct aroma from the espresso machines.

  Knox pulled out a chair, flipped it around, and sat with his arms crossed over the back. “That’s where we’re different. No waffling for me. I see something I want, I get it. Especially when it comes to women,” he said with a rakish wiggle of his eyebrows. “And then I move on to find the next thing I want.”

  Good thing she knew what a caring heart beat beneath those designer duds. Otherwise Knox’s blasé comment would make him seem nothing but shallow and greedy. And a horndog. “Did you ever think there might be something you want that you can’t buy?”

  “Hasn’t happened yet.”

  Chloe bet that it would. Sooner rather than later. Knox needed love more than he needed things or hookups. He just didn’t realize it. And it’d probably knock him flat on his ass when it happened.

  Griffin cleared his throat. “Enough conversation. Nobody says anything else until I get a kiss.”

  “Pass,” Knox said dryly.

  With a cursory thwap to the back of his dark head, Griffin strode to Chloe. Taking off his uniform hat—swoon, just like in the movies—he bent over to kiss her. Not a short peck of greeting. No, he took his time savoring her. Or the remnants of the white chocolate mocha that might be on her lips. Griff mocked her fancy coffee addiction, but he sure lingered for an extra taste whenever she sipped one.

  Chloe clutched at his biceps, pulling him closer. Wanting more. Wanting everything he could give her, no matter that they were in a coffee shop with one of his best friends two feet away. Griffin’s mouth stoked a flame in her that never went out.

  The sound of knuckles, rapped against the table, made Chloe break away. Knox frowned at them. “Until I buy you the booth, I doubt they’ll let you have sex on it.”

  Griff tossed his hat onto the table and scooted in next to Chloe. She tried very hard not to let herself get any more turned on by the press of his thigh against hers. Which was about as impossible as not getting excited by the first snowfall. Or cocoa.

  “This is unexpected, Lieutenant. Why the fancy duds?”

  “I’m escorting this guy to the Pentagon today.” Griffin jerked a thumb at his friend.

  Weird. The man with a taste for couture clothes and table service was the least military-esque person she knew. Squeezing Griff’s hand, she asked, “Why on earth are you taking him there?”

  Knox shrugged. “Just a business thing.”

  “With the Pentagon? What did you dream up this time that will cost me, the taxpayer, a zillion dollars?”

  He shot his cuffs with a tight smile. “If I told you, Griffin here would have to incapacitate you. Top secret until everything is signed and a pretty massive check is in my pocket. Let’s just say I improved—significantly—on a current design for something that works like a video game.”

  Drones, she thought. Griffin’s brilliant friend had built a better drone. Fascinating and potentially deadly…or lifesaving.

  “We’ve only got a few minutes. Knox needs a favor.”

  “Not a favor. A business transaction,” he corrected. “I’d like to hire you to write a letter for me.”

  Griffin had filled her in on Knox’s utterly disposable approach to dating. Chloe jumped to the first conclusion that came to mind. “I don’t care how much you pay me, Knox, I’m not going to write a brush-off letter you can copy and hand to your revolving string of bimbos at the end of the night. On behalf of womankind, I draw the line.”

  Griffin barked out a laugh. “She’s got your number, Davies.”

  “Yeah? And who the hell gave it to her, Montgomery?” Knox leaned forward to take Chloe’s free hand. “I’m sending my mom on a trip to England. Stratford-on-Avon, for the festival. She’s fallen hard for the Bard in her later years. I want you to write a letter in iambic pentameter, like Shakespeare, telling her that I love her and that she should have a great trip.”

  If Chloe hadn’t been sitting, she’d have slid to the floor in a boneless heap at the sweetness of his gesture. Instead, she dropped her forehead to the top of Knox’s hand. “I knew it. You are a wonderful man, Knox. You may try to hide it under all the flash, but you are loyal and true to the core.”

  “Keep your voice down. My hidden depths are strictly on a need-to-know basis,” he joked.

  “It’s why we keep him around. That—and he takes us places on a private jet. Really a win-win.” Griffin smooched Chloe on the cheek. “Gotta fly.”

  Tightening his grip, Knox said in a near-whisper, “Will you do it?”

  “Of course. It’ll be my pleasure. But I won’t let you pay me a cent. The Naked Men all get my services for free.”

  “What kind of services are we talking—” Knox’s innuendo-laden voice cut off as Griffin grabbed his ear and dragged him out of the chair.

  Chloe giggled, knowing he meant nothing by it. Except that by teasing her in front of Griff he made her one of them. She loved that all the men who were like brothers to Griffin accepted her so completely into their tight circle. “Love you, Lieutenant,” she called after them.

  “Love you right back, sweetheart,” Griff responded. It sent the ladies at the table next to her into a frenzy of fanned hands and dreamy eyes. Yep, she was pretty darn lucky to have him. And she intended to keep him. Forever.

  Chloe uncapped her pen. Revealed the super-special pape
r. With a deep breath, she began to write the most momentous letter of her life.

  Dear Mom ~

  You know I believe that writing things down gives them more weight. More import. So I’m writing this letter to ask you a huge favor.

  Do you remember when you met Griffin last weekend? You called me from the car, too excited to wait to tell me how crazy you were about him. The thing is, I’m crazy about him, too. Crazy in love. Head-over-heels in love.

  One of my favorite memories is of the blizzard when I was ten. You let me put on your veil and play wedding day. And then you and Dad resaid your vows, dressed in sweats in front of the fireplace. Right then and there, I decided I would only marry a man who loved me as much as Dad loved you.

  Griffin Montgomery loves me so much, and so well. Every day, even though it doesn’t seem possible, we fall a little deeper in love. So I’d like to ask you to unpack that veil again. I want to borrow it. For real this time. Because I’m going to propose to Griffin. Soon. Not as soon as he probably thinks, but I’ve got a plan in place, and it’ll be worth the wait.

  He’s going to say yes.

  For my husband, who risked everything when he first asked me out at the most inappropriate time imaginable…

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to Sue Grimshaw and the whole enthusiastic, wonderful team at Loveswept for taking a chance on my Naked Men. I mean, a series where every book starts with a prologue—talk about a risk! Thanks to Deidre Knight for championing me at every turn. Overwhelming gratitude to Laura Welling and Eliza Knight for convincing me to push forward with this idea. Lea Nolan—you’d better notice the super-secret surprise I dropped in for you! Thanks to Amanda Usen for a fantastic beta read—you’re lined up for the rest of the series, right? An entire case of Chateau Montelena goes to Andy Zambito for asking, “What about an all-guys blog?” in the middle of a wine tasting. And as always, I wouldn’t be able to get through a week without leaning on the rest of my Fearsome Foursome for laughter and support and a tad bit of snark. I love you guys.

  BY CHRISTI BARTH

  Naked Men

  Risking It All

  Wanting It All (coming soon)

  PHOTO: AMY JONES PHOTOGRAPHY

  CHRISTI BARTH earned a master’s degree in vocal performance and embarked upon a career on the stage. A love of romance then drew her to wedding planning. Ultimately, she succumbed to her lifelong love of books and now writes contemporary romance. Christi is president of the Maryland Romance Writers and lives in Maryland with her husband.

  Want more from Christi Barth?

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  christibarth.com

  The Editor’s Corner

  March into romance this month with Loveswept—snuggle up with your e-reader and our new books to escape the chill of those cold winter nights.

  Who doesn’t love naked men? In Christi Barth’s Risking It All, friends bonded by tragedy fight for their future with strong and sassy women. In New York Times bestselling author Tracy Wolff’s Lovegame, a damaged starlet bares her soul—and falls for the one man who cares enough to listen. Speaking of games, New York Times bestselling author Violet Duke kicks off her sizzling-hot new Fourth Down series with a friends-to-lovers romance between a no-strings-attached sports analyst and the hottest damn tomboy he’s ever met in Jackson’s Trust. As Sawyer Bennett’s New York Times bestselling Cold Fury series continues with Hawke, the league’s most notorious party animal gets blindsided by the one that got away. The world of extreme sports just got a little steamier in Zoe Dawson’s Ramping Up. Second chances are sweeter than ever for a reformed bully who’s more than just a jock in Charlotte Stein’s next installment of the steamy Dark Obsession series, Never Sweeter. And Shana Gray’s provocative new novel features a resilient fighter going round for tantalizing round with the one that got away in After the Hurt.

  For history fans, the Highland Knights series continues with a tight-knit band of Scottish mercenaries in USA Today bestselling author Jennifer Haymore’s Highland Awakening. Don’t miss the first book in USA Today bestselling author Ashlyn Macnamara’s charming new regency romance trilogy, To Lure a Proper Lady.

  And for those contemporary romance fans, there’s a new voice in romance you won’t want to miss—A. M. Madden—who cleans up the city streets in the first book in her new True Heroes series, Stone Walls, featuring hot alpha men on the NYPD force. New York Times bestselling author Marquita Valentine ratchets up the tension as new beginnings lead to undeniable passion in After We Fall. And in Resist, a sizzling novel from New York Times bestselling author Missy Johnson, a young journalist goes undercover in a world of desire.

  I’m sad to say it’s over…but it’s not over over, as there is a bouquet of beautiful romances awaiting you in April!

  Until next month—Happy Romance!

  Gina Wachtel

  Associate Publisher

  Read on for an excerpt from

  Wanting It All

  A Naked Men Novel

  by Christi Barth

  Available from Loveswept

  Chapter 1

  PRESENT DAY

  Hot blonde with D cups by the light pole. Easy pickings, judging from her strapless dress and lack of a bra. But Knox didn’t like to shoot fish in a barrel. Well, not anymore. Not since gaining six inches from his high school height, adding thirty pounds of muscle, and ditching the stupid swoop of bangs only his mom had adored.

  So he turned his attention to an average-looking brunette handing off her keys to the valet. Nice legs. Legs that Knox could picture wrapped around his waist. And when she smiled at the valet, she looked interesting. Smart. Smart enough to know the difference between Chardonnay and Riesling. Knox looked up at the June sky. The sun still blazed in D.C., even though it was close to six. So they could start with drinks, and then decide if dinner was on the table…or if she’d be the first course.

  Knox smoothed the lapel of his pale blue sports coat. Moved across the red carpet that led from the front door of the W hotel out to F Street.

  And almost lost an eye. A metal rod flew at his face. A quick dodge saved his eye. But from the corner of it he saw a woman lunging after the rod, straight into rush-hour traffic. Knox grabbed her waist. Used all his strength to change her trajectory from going heads-up with a row of black SUVs that screamed Secret Service detail and pulled her into his body instead.

  He noticed a bunch of things, right off the top. Her height—taller than average by at least a couple of inches. Her hair—tons of silky golden tresses that the wind splayed against his face. Not that he minded. Her breasts—big and firm and delectable, brushing the top of his arm. And her heft—no skin and bones fashionista, not a gaunt and sleepless political intern. No, she had actual muscles that he could feel fighting against him. This was one awesome armful of a woman.

  “My phone,” she wailed.

  Knox lifted her off the ground to make it easier to carry her from the curb and onto the red carpet. “The phone’s replaceable. A new kidney, on the other hand, not so easy to come by.” He could tell the exact moment that she actually noticed the traffic. Because she froze. Confident she wouldn’t lunge into the street again until the light turned red, he set her down. Didn’t let go, though. It’d only be polite to keep her upright until the shock of almost being run over passed.

  Mystery hottie spun in his arms. Eyes the color of his favorite Darjeeling tea blinked rapidly. “You saved me.”

  “Well, it reflects badly on us locals when we let tourists get injured.”

  A golden brown eyebrow quirked upward. “What makes you think I’m a tourist?”

  If she had a tour bus seat attached to her ass it couldn’t be more obvious. “There’s a camera bag at your hip. You’re wearing an I HEART D.C. T-shirt, with an American flag in the heart. A local wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those
even on the Fourth of July. Oh, and you almost blinded me with that stupid selfie stick.”

  “Well observed, Sherlock.” Her tone was genuinely impressed rather than sarcastic. So Knox kept going.

  “That’s not all I noticed.”

  She tossed her long hair back over her shoulders. “I doubt there’s anything left to notice about me.”

  “You smell like honeysuckle. You’re not shy.”

  Bright red lips parted on a gasp. “How can you possibly tell that?”

  “The loud T-shirt, for one thing.” Knox hoped his next observation wouldn’t backfire and scare her away. “More to the point, you haven’t eased back from me yet. In fact, you’ve put both your hands on my chest.”

  “Maybe I wanted to check out the muscles that hauled me away from near death.”

  Knox liked this woman. Liked her take-what-I-want style. Her brashness. “Maybe we should start with exchanging names before you name my pecs.”

  “A stickler for rules, huh? I can work with that. Or around it.” Deliberately, she stepped out of his embrace. Held out her hand. “Madison Abbott.”

  “Knox Davies.” They shook. “Was I right? Are you a visitor to our nation’s capital?”

  “Yes and no.”

  The light turned red. Traffic ground to a halt. Knox nipped forward, retrieved her phone and the stupid stick it was attached to, and presented them with a flourish. “Looks like it survived unscathed.”

  “Thank you.” Madison collapsed the stick and dropped it and the phone into her bag. A bright yellow bag that also labeled her a tourist, as it looked big enough to hold a tent in case her hotel reservation fell through. “Come to think of it, I should’ve started off with that. Thanks for not making me spend my first night in town in the hospital.”