Calculated Risk

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Calculated Risk Page 9

by Marie James


  She asked me here, but I can’t decide if this is some sort of date. It feels like a date. I want it to be a date, but I’m not sure where her head is at. Maybe she’d rather sit here and talk about work than go home, and if so, that makes me wonder just how much she’s downplaying her fear after the break-in at her house.

  “And you think I’d get in the truck with a total stranger?”

  “I’m just saying you had options, and I think I corrected the issue when I called you the next day.”

  “You called because you felt bad?”

  I clamp my mouth shut.

  “Really?” she snaps with a light laugh. “Someone else told you to call me?”

  She plops her back against the back of her chair making me realize she was leaning in toward me despite a full two feet of table separating us.

  “The guy at work who set up the class firmly suggested that I call you and tell you that you and your friend were welcome back,” I explain, not going into detail about why Wren was so adamant about her attending.

  “Wow, and here I was softening up to you because I thought you wanted me in class.” She’s teasing me, but I can still see a flash of embarrassment for making her feel unwelcome that first evening.

  “I’m glad you came back, Hayden. It’s been nice having you in class.”

  “As nice as having Gayle? She’s missed two classes.”

  I don’t want to think about Gayle right now, but according to Wren when I asked him about her absence last week, he couldn’t find anything on her since the Tuesday before. Her credit cards haven’t been used. She hasn’t been arrested or hospitalized, but telling her that we’re tracking the woman from the group opens me up to her possibly asking other questions, and I don’t want to have to lie to her. I also know that the truth could possibly make her jump up from the table and never want to see me again. Knowing why she’s in class started as a way to ensure we helped the women that need help the most, but now it makes me feel a little dirty.

  “Maybe she thinks she learned all she could. It’s a beginner’s class after all. I’ll check with Adam and see if maybe she signed up for a more advanced class.”

  She smiles, seeming appeased with the lie.

  The evening goes on, the two of us making small talk and getting to know one another, but that teasing, flirty smile she threw my way earlier never reappears, and when I walk her to her car, I keep my distance when really I just want to wrap my arms around her and hold her against my chest.

  I regret now that she asked me out first.

  “So, class on Thursday?”

  “I’ll see you then,” I tell her, opening her car door when she stands and lingers for a few seconds.

  Does she want me to kiss her? God, I’d pay money to be able to read her mind for just thirty short seconds.

  She gives me a little wave before climbing into her car. Like a fool, I watch her taillights disappear before making my way to my own vehicle.

  Chapter 16

  Hayden

  I’ve been up for hours when I hear the knock on the door. Not because I’m an early riser, but because I just can’t sleep. Despite tossing and turning all night, I knew I couldn’t stay in bed all day. It would only throw off my schedule.

  I got up just as the sun started peeking through my curtains and plan to stay up all day, and maybe at bedtime, I’ll be exhausted enough to get a good night’s sleep.

  Since it’s Saturday, I’m already halfway through my routine of cleaning everything in the house. I swipe a hand over the wet spot on my t-shirt from washing the individual pieces of my coffee maker as I inch toward the door. I creep up to the peephole a little leery of who could be at the door, and gasp when I see Quinten standing on my front porch step. A slow smile crosses his face, and I know that he heard my reaction from the other side.

  “C-Can I help you?” I ask through the door as I swipe at my messy hair.

  “It’s Quinten, Hayden. I found a solution to your problem.”

  I have no immediate idea of what he’s talking about. We spent over an hour chatting at the diner, but I was careful to make sure I didn’t complain too much, remembering Parker telling me once that men don’t like it when women constantly bitch. I found myself wanting Quinten to like me, to want to spend more time with me. I didn’t want to complain all night and chase him away.

  “Okay… what problem? And how do you know where I live?”

  He steps to the side, somehow knowing I’m once again looking at him through the peephole, and I see another man with him.

  “Your address was on the paperwork you filled out for class, and we have a copy of your driver’s license, remember? This is Wren Nelson. He’s the IT specialist at Blackbridge.” The other guy smiles and waves, and I feel ridiculous watching this happen through a tiny hole in my door. “He brought everything you’ll need for a security system.”

  Wren holds up a canvas bag as if he needs to show proof.

  “I didn’t know you were coming.” There’s no way I’m letting these men in my house looking the way I do.

  “I wanted it to be a surprise,” Quinten says. “We can come back another day.”

  That sounds like an even worse idea.

  I flip the deadbolts and tug open the door. My hand immediately goes to the chaotic mop on the top of my head. “I’ve been cleaning. I’m a mess.”

  “You look beautiful,” he says before clamping his mouth closed.

  His friend laughs, wheezing out a rush of air when Quinten elbows him in the stomach. “Nice to meet you, Hayden.”

  “You as well. Come on in.” I stand to the side so they can enter. “I didn’t tell you about my problem with getting someone out here because I was hinting that I wanted you to do it.”

  “He’s going to get started,” Quinten says, pointing to Wren.

  “I brought eight cameras, but this size house may only need six. One on the inside and outside of the front and back doors, one in the kitchen, one in the living room and an external one covering the yard and the driveway. I also have one that’s a motion activated doorbell.”

  “Cameras inside the house? What if I want—” I snap my mouth closed before asking if I want to walk around in just a t-shirt and my panties.

  “Pretty standard, but it’s your house. Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it, but I can set it up to where no one has the ability to view your footage unless you give them permission through your home internet or on the app that you’ll have on your phone.”

  “That’s fine,” I quickly agree.

  “So six?”

  “Sure,” I answer, my face already growing flushed with my near slipup.

  I offer them both something to drink, but they decline. Wren gets to work at the back door first, and Quinten goes to stand in the living room, arms crossed over his chest as he watches the street out in front of the house.

  I continue my cleaning, sticking close to the living room, of course, just in case Quinten wants to strike up a conversation. I swear I feel his eyes on me more than once while I’m dusting, but when I glance over, his eyes are still out the window. He looks so serious standing there like a sentry guarding my house, and those thoughts of hiring a bodyguard to stand outside my bedroom once again begin to infiltrate my thoughts, but only after an hour of standing there, he knocks, and I invite him in.

  I shake my head to clear the thoughts, dropping the can of cleaning spray in the meantime.

  “I’m hungry,” Wren says when he comes back into the living room. “Anyone else hungry? I ordered pizza, wings, and breadsticks.”

  “Hard work putting in a security system?” I ask with a laugh. “I could’ve made you something to eat.”

  “You are not cooking him a meal,” Quinten interjects.

  “Is it against company policy?”

  “Oh, we aren’t here for wor—”

  “How many do you have left?” Quinten snaps. “I’m sure we’ve interrupted her plans. The sooner we get out of here, the soone
r she can get back to her day.”

  Wren laughs, shakes his head, and turns to leave the room.

  I go back to cleaning with a smile on my face. Wren just all but confessed that they aren’t here in an official capacity, and that only leaves Quinten making this a personal matter. I can’t even describe the thrill I get from that knowledge. I’ll pay him of course, but I also feel a little giddy that he even wanted to see me again after yet another awkward wave goodbye.

  I end up dusting the same spot more than once while Wren worked and Quinten perched near the front window.

  The doorbell rings, but Wren gets it before I can grab my wallet to pay for the food.

  “I was going to pay for that,” I complain when he walks in carrying three large boxes. “Man, you weren’t joking about being hungry. Can I get you two something to drink?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t pay. Quinten did.” The man in question frowns as Wren hands him the stack of boxes. “And I can’t stay. I just got a text, and I need to head home.”

  “So the system—”

  “It’s done. Q here is pretty proficient with the program. He’s going to show you how to operate it after you guys get finished eating and before he leaves.”

  Wren slaps his friend on the back before turning toward the front door. “It was lovely to meet you, Hayden. See you soon.”

  We both stare in the direction of the front door long after it closes.

  “I think he just set us up,” I whisper after several minutes, looking in his direction to try to get a read on how he feels about it.

  “Seems that way. I apologize. He’s not very subtle.”

  “You can just show me how to work the system. You don’t have to stay to—”

  “Do you want me to leave? I’ve been thinking about it, and now that I’m here, it was seriously rude to just show up and barge into your day.”

  “I don’t want you to leave. I mean, I don’t mind eating and then learning about my new security system. Do you take credit cards? I don’t have checks and I never keep cash lying around.”

  “It’s just pizza, Hayden. I don’t expect you to pay for lunch.”

  “I meant the security system.”

  “Oh it’s… don’t worry about it.”

  “I have to pay for the system, Quinten. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “It was free,” he rushes out. “Congrats! You were the winner.”

  “Winner?” I cock my hip and prop a hand there.

  “It was in the fine print of the sign up for the shooting class. One person was randomly selected to win a free security system.”

  “You are full of shit.” My smile is wide as I glare at him, so I don’t imagine he’s getting the full effect I’m trying to display.

  “Seriously, but I’m obligated to inform you that the even smaller print says that you’re responsible for the monthly service fee, and the app has a onetime purchase fee of five dollars and ninety cents.”

  “Is that right?”

  He nods. “Plus tax. Do you want to eat in the dining room or here in the living room?”

  “Here is fine,” I tell him with a laugh. “I’ll call your office on Monday to get all the legal documentation.”

  “I’ll get it for you. Don’t want to add another thing to your list of tasks. Can you grab napkins?”

  I shake my head as I leave the room, realizing that his visit is the best thing that ever could’ve happened to me. I didn’t know I was struggling so much until I realized that the last man that was in my house was the person who broke in, and that’s assuming it was a male.

  Quinten being here has replaced that last image, and I get the feeling that it’s going to go a long way in helping me start to heal.

  The meal is spent mostly in silence, but unlike when he was standing at the window, he keeps his eyes trained in my direction as we sit down and dole out the food.

  “If you grab your phone, we can get the app downloaded,” he says after we’re both done eating. “I won’t eat any of this again. Want me to put it in your fridge?”

  “Sure,” I tell him just before leaving the room to go grab my phone.

  We meet back up in the living room, and he quickly finds the app after I hand him my phone.

  “I went ahead and put my number in your contacts in case you have questions after I leave.”

  He swallows when I smile, and we spend the next half hour going over how the system works and how to pull up video from an earlier time.

  Instead of him getting up to leave when it’s done, he sticks around, striking up a conversation about my house.

  “Do you like living here? It seems like a nice neighborhood.”

  “I did. It doesn’t feel as nice after being broken into, though.”

  “Criminals don’t tend to rob poor people. I showed you that anytime someone activates the motion camera near the front door, your voice will ask them if you can help them. That will deter almost anyone coming from doing something bad. Robbers prefer not to run into homeowners when they’re stealing. It increases the chance of them getting caught.”

  “That makes sense.”

  My phone rings, and Parker’s name flashes across the screen. He stands from the sofa even though I hit the decline button.

  “I should get going. There are a few cases at work I need to wrap up.”

  I stand as well, walking with him toward the door.

  “Thank you for doing this for me. Seriously, about the payment, I think—”

  His lips are on me, just a slight brushing of his mouth against mine, but when he pulls away too soon, I can’t even remember what I was going to say.

  “I’m sorry. Shit, I shouldn’t have—”

  “I liked it,” I confess.

  Instead of bending down to kiss me again, he gives my hand a quick squeeze and then leaves.

  I don’t think I quit smiling for the rest of the evening, and when I go to bed that night, I sleep very well with the reenactment of that simple kiss playing over and over in my dreams.

  Chapter 17

  Quinten

  “Is that something else you learned with Jude,” I tease Hayden.

  She bites the corner of her bottom lip as she blinks up at me.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You’re counting your breaths as you shoot, and you pull the trigger on every third exhale.”

  “I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing.”

  “You were fully in the zone. It’s good to see. You’ve come a long way.”

  My eyes stay on her mouth. I had apologized Saturday for kissing her without warning, but more than anything, I regret not kissing her harder, longer, with more intensity. I regret walking away before knowing what her hair feels like tangled around my fist, or what her tiny body feels like pressed against mine.

  I nearly groan when she licks her lip before answering. “I’ve had a great teacher.”

  “I think it has more to do with you being an excellent student.”

  “Is that so?”

  Her cheeks begin to turn pink when I push a lock of hair off her cheek.

  I’m thirty-five damn years old, and this woman makes me feel like a boy with no flirting skills. I swear I’ll dig a hole and bury myself if something ridiculous like aw shucks slides out of my mouth.

  Flirting, I know how to do. I’ve done it before with a very high rate of success, but picking up a woman in a bar and actually wanting to spend time with someone outside of the bedroom are two very different things. I don’t just want to score with Hayden. I want to spend time with her, talk to her more about her life and her childhood. I want to make plans with her and sit on the couch and watch reruns on the television. I want Saturdays filled with plans, and lazy Sundays in our pajamas. Shit, when did I let my mind start making all those plans?

  I’d say after that kiss on Saturday, but two weeks ago at the grocery store, I found myself wondering what her favorite ice cream was while I was decid
ing between yogurt and sherbet.

  “Did Parker just decide she’s too good for class?”

  She frowns, her joyous smile falling from her beautiful face with a speed that would challenge the fastest car on the road. And just like that, I manage to ruin the light flirting I was able to manage.

  “She said she had to work.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’ve made every one. What do you say to—”

  “Mr. Lake, can you help me? I think it’s jammed.”

  Regretfully, I turn away from Hayden and go help one of the other women. I am still teaching a class after all, but in less than an hour, that duty will be over, and I can put all of my focus exactly where I want it to be.

  Every second I spend helping the others in class goes too fast. Unlike the time at work that drags so slowly I question the clock on my office wall more than once a day. Being with her in the same room and still being several yards away from her, the time ticks away too quickly. Our time together is coming to an end unless I can find the courage to ask her to go out with me again.

  She’s had my phone number for the better part of a week, and not once has my cell chimed with a text or a call from her. Maybe I wasn’t specific enough in telling her that I wanted her to call just to chat, and that she should feel free to use it at any time, day or night. Stupidly, I specified if there was a problem.

  When the women in class begin to trickle out and leave, I’m fairly confident in their abilities to shoot safely. Before today’s class started, I gave them information on Adam’s class that will help them go from beginner shooters to ones with steady skill. Many of the women signed up for that second class.

  I smile when I see Hayden lingering, taking her time to use the ammunition allotted from today’s class. Eventually, she’s the very last person left in the room, and I walk toward her with confidence, standing to the side until she empties her magazine and sets the gun down. She slides the target back in our direction, and there’s proof of her improvement in the tighter clusters of shots on it.

  “See? You’re doing amazing.”

  She’s beaming when she looks at me.

 

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