Calculated Risk

by Marie James

  “Sweet,” Parker says as she reaches for the items he’s put in front of us, and the spell is broken.

  I watch my best friend as she follows his instructions.

  Of course, I glance back at him just in time to see him walk away. Parker was right, his jeans are absolutely lethal.

  Parker clears her throat, and I see her grinning when I look back at her.

  “Your turn,” she says as she pops the bullets free. She doesn’t mention catching me looking at the man’s ass, but I know the reprieve won’t last forever. Maybe it’s a good thing she can’t stay for the entire class. It means I won’t be grilled later or forced to go get drinks.

  “Sorry I’m late,” comes another male voice from the back of the room.

  Every woman, including myself, turns our heads as a handsome man begins to walk toward the front of the classroom.

  Chatter begins before the man can make it halfway there.

  “Everyone this is my co-instructor Jude—”

  “Hey Jude!” Gayle sings and I chuckle at her obvious Beatles reference.

  “—Jude Morris,” Quinten says as if he hadn’t been interrupted, but I see a hint of a smile on his face.

  Jude gives an awkward wave before shoving his hands into his pockets. The apples of his cheeks begin to turn pink when Quinten claps him on the back.

  “He’s got a Dr. Reid vibe going on, doesn’t he?” Parker whispers right in my ear.

  “He looks nothing like Matthew Gray Gubler.” I was an avid fan of the television show Criminal Minds, but the break-in at my house managed to make me too afraid to watch it. The plotline became a little too real after experiencing that.

  “No, like his demeanor. Anyway, do you think Quinten will help if I act like I don’t understand how to load this thing?” Parker picks up the magazine and turns it over in her hand.

  “He passed the needy slash confused girl test last week. Shouldn’t you move on to the next one?”

  “I’m thinking a little help would be fun right now.” I shake my head before pulling the magazine from her hand and picking up one of the bullets. “Unless you’re interested in him. Don’t think I didn’t catch the way you were looking at his ass. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you drooling over a man before.”

  “I wasn’t drooling,” I mutter, popping the bullet into place and reaching for the next one.

  She doesn’t argue. Quinten moving around the room to help those that are struggling draws all of her attention.

  ***

  “The entire point of taking a shooting class is to shoot the gun,” Parker says as she meets me on the sidewalk outside of the same bar we came to last week.

  “And I thought you said you couldn’t stay the whole class. Must not have been very important plans.”

  She doesn’t give me any details about what she’s missing out on as she curls her arm around mine.

  “And how did I end up getting talked in to coming back here?”

  “Everyone is coming,” Parker says as she pulls open the door for us to walk in.

  “Everyone?”

  “Is that a little hint of hope I hear in your voice, Hayden Prescott? Don’t worry, I invited the guys, so you may have the chance to talk to Dr. Reid tonight.”

  “Jude Morris,” I correct, frowning when she winks at me.

  She knew I’d fall for that. Damn it.

  “Drink?”

  “Just a diet soda for me. The martini last week left me with a headache,” I tell her.

  Actually, I’m sure the pain behind my eyes had more to do with my lack of sleep than anything else, but I’m not going to risk it again this week.

  “Go grab that huge booth over there, so we have room for more people.” My eyes follow the point of her finger, and as much as I hate going over there alone, I shove that annoyance down and do as she says.

  It seems a little busier tonight, and I studiously avoid looking around the bar.

  “Are you having a good night?”

  I look up to see a man standing at the edge of the table. He’s smiling down at me with a half-empty bottle of beer in his hand.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw you sit down all alone. My name is—”

  “She’s not alone.”

  Both of our heads snap in the direction of the rough voice. I frown at Quinten, somehow grateful for saving me from this guy but also annoyed at the same time.

  The guy, on the other hand, cowers back like a kicked puppy. His head literally dips like he’s about to be swatted with a rolled-up newspaper for being disobedient.

  The guy scurries away as Quinten takes a seat on the far opposite side of the half-moon booth. Jude grabs a chair from an empty table and pulls it up to the edge of our area.

  “Maybe I wanted to talk to him.”

  “I’m good, thanks,” he says in an attempted fake female voice. His own voice is so deep, it doesn’t work at all. “Didn’t exactly sound like you were receptive.”

  “I don’t sound like that, and even if I didn’t want to speak with him, it’s not your place to run men off when they try to speak to me. I can handle myself.”

  He smiles at me, and I want to smack the infuriating condescension from his handsome face—not handsome, Hayden—just face.

  “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

  “You’re assuming there will be a nex—”

  “Hey, how did you beat us here?”

  At Parker’s voice, I notice both guys are holding cold beers.

  “Scoot.” Parker nudges Quinten’s side with her hip, but he doesn’t budge.

  He looks up at her like she’s lost her mind before standing with a flourish of his arm to indicate her sitting on the inside.

  “So gallant,” she says with a flutter of her eyelashes.

  I would laugh if I hadn’t been a witness to her over-the-top flirting before.

  “I don’t exactly fit comfortably under the table,” Quinten says as he settles back on the edge of the seat. Parker hasn’t given him much room, and I know that is purposeful.

  I glare at my friend, but instead of a conspiratorial smile, she’s angling her head, darting her eyes toward Jude. The man hasn’t said a word since he arrived. It’s clear he’s about as comfortable as I am in situations like this.

  Parker’s eyes widen when I don’t open my mouth. I imagine in her head, Jude is the perfect guy for me, and I can admit he’s good looking, but I don’t feel a spark when I look at him.

  Granted, right now, I only feel a little irritation when I look at Quinten, but then that changes when I watch him lift his beer bottle to his lips. I dash away the image of licking that drop of beer left behind on his lip. I don’t even like beer. His tongue would taste like hops, and his fingers would be cold from touching the glass bottle.

  “Are you okay?” Jude asks.

  “Wh-what?”

  Parker chuckles, and Quinten shifts in his seat.

  “You made like a grunting noise. Is something wrong?”

  “I’m fine,” I snap, giving Jude a weak smile in apology. “So, you work with Mr. Lake?”

  “Mr. Lake,” Quinten grumbles as he shakes his head.

  “We both work at Blackbridge Security,” Jude confirms.

  The conversation stays just as stilted as other women from the class begin to trickle in. They hover closely but don’t really insert themselves into the four-person group we created.

  The ice melts in my soda before I remember that Parker brought me a drink. When I nibble on the straw, Quinten watches me. When I trace my finger down the condensation on the glass, Quinten watches me. When Parker flirts with him, Quinten watches me.

  I feel his eyes on me all night long, but not once does he speak directly to me unless I ask him a question first.

  The scrutiny in his gaze makes me self-conscious, and I find myself pushing my hair behind my ear more than once just to have something to do with my hands.

&
nbsp; He watches me do that, too.

  “Ready to go?” I ask Parker after an hour in the booth.

  “Already?” She frowns but moves out of the booth when Quinten stands.

  “See you guys next week,” I mumble before turning toward the door.

  I’m outside breathing in fresh air before I realize that both men followed us out.

  “Just making sure you get to your car safely,” Quinten says when I give him a questioning look.

  Suddenly, I don’t want to leave. I don’t know if it’s because the noise from the bar is trapped behind the heavy door or if it’s because I’m actually going to miss him looking at me.

  “Goodnight,” I tell them. “It was nice to meet you, Jude.”

  Jude gives me a quick nod.

  My throat is dry when I look at Quinten, and I regret not sucking down the remainder of my drink before coming out here.

  “Drive safely,” he says. I might be mistaken but his voice sounds a little huskier than I’ve heard it.

  I resist the urge to hug him because that would be weirder than anything else I’ve experienced tonight. Parker gives me a weird look over the roof of my car before she opens her driver’s side door.

  I slide into my car and pull away before she leaves because I don’t know when the thought of her talking to Quinten started making me feel a little territorial and jealous.

  Chapter 9

  Quinten

  I sigh after Parker gets in her car and drives away.

  “You told Deacon you weren’t going to date one of the women from class,” Jude says as we stand outside of the bar.

  “I’m not.”

  “Does Parker know that?”

  I huff a small laugh because Parker isn’t even on my radar.

  “She’s smoking hot, man. I’d completely understand.”

  “I don’t have eyes for Parker.”

  “She’s got eyes for you. I don’t think she stopped watching your mouth the entire night.”

  “I didn’t notice.” How could I when I found it impossible to pull my eyes from Hayden?

  I don’t think she was purposely trying to drive me crazy with her straw or her fingers, or the way she smiled when Jude actually opened his mouth to speak, but she did it anyway.

  I left class annoyed with her but planning to try to grab a second alone to speak with her. The invite to the bar from her friend was just lucky. She didn’t fire a single gun tonight, and because the group is too large, something I told Wren more than once, I never got a chance to approach her and encourage her to fire.

  I thought of offering her private lessons, wondering if the setting and being around so many other people is what made her nervous, but I shoved that idea down before I stupidly made the offer. Being alone with her probably wouldn’t be a good thing for either of us.

  I can’t help but get the feeling that there’s more going on than what Wren says she was flagged for, and just imagining someone hurting her makes me homicidal.

  “You should’ve danced with her.”

  “Hayden doesn’t seem like the dancing type.”

  I look at my friend when he laughs. “I freaking knew it! You have the hots for Hayden, not Parker.”

  I shake my head, but I don’t deny it.

  “You spent the entire night talking to her.”

  Entire isn’t actually accurate. Jude spoke when spoken to. He’s not rude. He’s just not the type to instigate conversations with people he doesn’t know. It takes the man a while to warm up to people, and after that, you can’t get him to shut up, hence, the reason he was in class tonight. I think his intelligence bothered people growing up, and instead of fostering his knowledge, he was made fun of for it. Staying quiet is like a failsafe for him.

  “Are you jealous? I wasn’t hitting on Hayden. If I were going to go after either of them, it would be Parker.”

  “The woman who talks incessantly?”

  He shrugs. “She could carry the conversation, but we aren’t talking about Parker. Let’s talk about Hayden. She’s very pretty.”

  “She is,” I agree, knowing my best friend won’t give up even if I try to steer the conversation a different way. The best way to get over a conversation is going right through the middle of it.

  “She’s tiny, though. I don’t know how it would work.”

  With soft hands and practiced skill. With her on top and my hands gripping her hips in case she thinks about biting off more than she can chew. I’d hit the end of her every single time, looking for that little whimper I’ve never actually heard her make but I’ve dreamed about more than once.

  “Are you thinking about it right now?”

  “No,” I say a little too quickly not to be guilty.

  “You are!”

  “I’m not interested in either of them,” I lie. “They’re clients.”

  “Do you really think Deacon would give you shit if you started dating Hayden?”

  “It’s a moot point. Did you miss it when I just said I’m not interested?”

  “Did you forget that I’m your best friend, and I know when you’re full of shit? Deacon is married to Anna. Flynn and Remi are together. Both of those women were clients. Wren’s relationship and his obsession with Whitney started at work. All we do is work. Deacon can’t get mad if that’s the only way we meet women.”

  “Are you trying to justify some make-believe crush you think I have on Hayden or that sparkle in your eyes when you say Parker’s name?”

  His smile grows to twice its original size. “Man, if I thought for even a second I had a shot with Parker, I’d jump on the opportunity to take her out. She’s gorgeous.”

  “There’s more to women than just looks.”

  “Did you not hear her tonight?”

  “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Because Hayden was in the room. Look, I understand, but Parker isn’t a simpleton. She’s very smart. Her vocabulary is top notch. Her reasoning skills are on point, The woman is smart.”

  “If she’s as brilliant as you’re making her sound, then she should be able to take a hint that I’m not interested,” I argue as I start walking toward my truck.

  “She’s well aware you aren’t interested. I think she’s trying to make Hayden realize she likes you.”

  “What?” I spin around so fast I nearly knock him over.

  “Not interested, huh?”

  “What are we, in high school? Just drop it.” Please don’t drop it because I want to know what I missed.

  “I’m not Brooks,” he blessedly continues even though I told him not to. “But I know when a woman is put off and when they’re interested. Did you see the way she looked up at you when she was putting her hair behind her ear? Classic flirty move.”

  “Are you getting your information from How to Date For Dummies? She did that because it kept falling in her face and tickling her chin.”

  I can’t believe I was overly eager, and that’s the tidbit of information he has? Waste of my damn time.

  “There’s a How to Date for Dummies?”

  I laugh at his question, but don’t mention his awkwardness.

  “I’m going home,” I mutter as I hit my key fob and unlock my truck door.

  “Yeah, okay. See you at the office.”

  I give him a wave, but the asshole is right. Home isn’t where I want to be, and instead of driving in that direction, I arrow my truck right to the Blackbridge offices. I know he’s going to bring up tonight to anyone there that will listen, and I figure being here would give me a little more control over the conversation.

  I stop off to grab some fast food, wondering what Hayden had for dinner before heading to work. I realize how random the thought is, especially since I haven’t really had a second alone with the woman.

  The guys are already laughing when I enter the breakroom with my paper bag filled with cheeseburgers and fries. Yes burgers—plural—because I’m a big guy and can put away some food.

  “Any chance I can
give you assholes a burger in exchange for shutting up and letting me eat in peace?”

  “We already ate,” Brooks says as he points between himself and Kit.

  “I’ll take one,” Jude says, holding his hands out in front of him like he’s getting ready to catch a football.

  He laughs loudly when I narrow my eyes.

  “I was just telling the guys about your crush on Hayden.”

  “Fucker,” I mutter, tossing him a burger.

  He doesn’t open his mouth to talk about the woman again until after he’s sank his teeth into the food.

  “She’s adorable,” Jude says around a bite of food. “A tiny little thing, like small enough he could fit her in his pocket. He couldn’t take his eyes off her the entire night.”

  “You going to hit that?” Brooks asks.

  The man is a huge flirt and has had his share of women. He’s never been in a real relationship that I know of, but he leaves them satisfied, and is somehow able to walk away with them smiling.

  “I’m not hitting anything,” I say before taking a bite so big that I couldn’t talk even if I wanted to.

  They either don’t notice or don’t care about my reluctance.

  “You need a good woman in your life. It’s been a while since you’ve been on a date.”

  “I date,” I mumble around partially chewed food.

  Brooks scrunches his nose, always the one to have perfect manners. But wouldn’t good manners include not talking with a full mouth as well as dropping a topic of conversation when someone isn’t wanting to talk?

  “When was the last time you were on a date?”

  “I had coffee last week.”

  “You mean the business meeting with Mr. Palmer? Is there something you’ve failed to tell us, because if you’re counting that as a date…” I glare at Brooks, hating that his grin only seems to be getting bigger.

  “I’m not gay,” I say after forcing down the food in my mouth. I take a smaller bite next because it doesn’t seem they’re going to let me off the hook whether I’m eating or not.