The Risk-Taker. Kira Sinclair
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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 events 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