Risking It All Page 7

  Damn. The woman was fixated on his body. He never would’ve guessed. And he sure as hell wouldn’t fight it. “No need to work that hard.” Settling his thumbs in the open notch of his blue and white striped button down, Griff opened his collar wider. “You give the word, I’m happy to shuck these clothes. All of ’em.”

  Laughter gurgled in her throat. “You’re very accommodating.”

  There it was—the killer smile. And the sassy woman he’d been thinking about for days. About time she reappeared. Griff took her hand. Rubbed his thumb slowly across the top of it. “I’m confused, Chloe. I got the impression you were having a crappy time.”

  “I am!” she wailed, grimacing through her laughter.

  “Then why are you picturing me naked? Not that I’m not equal parts grateful and intrigued, but I don’t get it.”

  The pulse in her wrist kicked up a few notches beneath his fingers. “I’m miserable thinking I’m about to drive this thing”—she kicked at the plastic shield curling over the footbed of the Segway—“right into the Potomac. I’m not miserable talking to you.”

  Griff drew her away from the edge of the Tidal Basin, into the shadowy cover of cherry trees. “You’ve barely said two words this whole time.”

  “Well, the tour guide talks a lot. And there’s the whole petrified thing I’ve got distracting me at the moment.”

  Nothing about this added up. “I thought you wanted to do something a little different. Something outdoors.”

  She gaped at him again. “Why on earth would you think that?”

  “Summer told me.”

  “My best friend, Summer? Who you met for all of five minutes?” Chloe paced away a few steps. When she came back, her eyes were slitted and darkened to the blue of the underside of a wave about to break. Someone was definitely in trouble. Griff hoped it wasn’t him. “How’d she even know how to get in touch with you?”

  “She emailed me through the Naked Men contact form. Said we were cute together and she wanted tonight to be a success. So she gave me some pointers. Things you’d like to do.”

  Chloe closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. The one Griff really wanted to explore with his own teeth and lips. “Things she’d like me to do is more to the point.” Her eyes flashed open. She sank onto the low concrete bench. And this time when she looked at Griff, it was with a wince of apology. “Summer…has her own agenda.”

  “About you dating?”

  “Yes. No. About getting me out of the house, period. With or without a man attached, actually.”

  It hit him then what a lonely life Chloe must lead. Something hard for him even to imagine, with his shared house and job and whole life stuffed with people every waking minute. Griff only knew that he’d hate being that alone. “You work for yourself. Must be hard to find people to hang with, things to do.”

  This time she tossed him a look of gratitude, like he’d given her an easy out. Was he missing something here? “Exactly. Summer worries about me. The truth is, I’m perfectly okay with my quiet life. More so than she is, at any rate.”

  Griff put a mental flag next to Summer’s name that read NO BOUNDARIES. “You’ve got a friend who cares about you. I get it.”

  “I was nervous to admit to you that those machines scared me.” She pointed at their Segways with an exaggerated grimace. “Which really isn’t fear as much as it is common sense.”

  Griff rolled his eyes. Not just because he flew military helicopters into raging storms without batting an eye, but because he routinely saw seventy-year-old tourists zooming around the Mall on Segways. If they could do it, so could Chloe.

  She popped up and started pacing again. “I didn’t want you to see me as a scaredy-cat. Fear doesn’t stop me from doing what I want. Fear never stops me,” she said fiercely.

  Griff lifted his hands, palms out. “Okay.”

  “Sorry.” Pivoting on her heel to face him, Chloe looked beautiful with the low-hanging branches of the cherry trees framing her in pale blossoms. Deepening twilight softened the air, blurred the edges into a watercolor. “I’m ranting, aren’t I? It’s because I’m frustrated. Summer thinks she’s saving me. I don’t need to be saved. Not by anyone. I can take care of myself.”

  There was a ferocity in her tone impossible to miss. And impossible to ignore. “Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

  “Oh.” Her hands flew to cover her glossy red mouth. The one that looked like he’d already licked it. God knew he wanted to. “I’m totally screwing this up, aren’t I?”

  “Nope. You’ve raised the interesting factor pretty far. I just wish I could follow along better.”

  Her pacing resumed. “Did you guys ever do a blog post on when to reveal big stuff?”

  Griff snorted. “Thought you were going home to read our whole blog, start to finish?”

  “I decided not to.”

  Weird. Seemed like all women pre-Googled their dates nowadays. Guys, not so much. Guys didn’t want to expend the effort until they knew the woman was worth it. “Did you read the first one and get bored?”

  “Nope. I didn’t even open it. I’m an old-fashioned letter-writing girl, remember? It felt like cheating, learning about you all at once from a website. Then what would even be the point of today?”

  A part of Griff was relieved. He didn’t love having such huge swathes of info out there about him. Didn’t love stories about the ACSs that dogged them from the crash all the way through today. It was why they used only their first names on their blog. No reason to help people connect the dots any more than they already did.

  On the other hand, if tonight went well, it meant he’d have to spill the whole story to Chloe soon. Historically, women’s reaction to it sucked. They gushed. They cooed. They called him a hero. But none of them had ever gotten how scary it has been for him. The nightmares after. That it wasn’t all triumphal parades and television interviews.

  “Then I promise not to search you either.”

  Chloe gave a tight nod. “Back to my question—should you lay it all out in the open on the first date, or save the dirty emotional underwear until after you’re crazy for each other? Because if there is a rule, I should probably know it right now.”

  Swallowing his laughter practically choked him. “You’re asking me for dating advice?”

  “You’re the only one to ask at this particular moment.”

  Griff didn’t know the answer. It would make a kick-ass post, though. Carefully, he said, “The truth’s always the way to go, Chloe. I want to get to know the real you, not some version you think I want to see.”

  “You’re right.”

  He grabbed her hand at her next lap past him and pulled her back down to the bench. “What’s got you so tied up in knots?”

  Chloe licked her lips. Looked at the ground. Violently twisted around her chunky gold ring that looked like tree bark. Sucked in a deep breath and met his gaze. “Do you remember when three gunmen went on a rampage at Raleigh University in Virginia ten years ago?”

  “Just the headlines. Thirty people killed. Twice that many wounded.” The headline had ricocheted around his skull. Kids his own age, dying. A tragedy that made his own seem small in comparison. But Griff still had plenty of trauma-induced nightmares going on ten years ago, so he’d taken note and then studiously ignored the days of nonstop coverage that followed.

  “I was one of them. Summer, too.” Chloe’s voice was even. Matter of fact. Like she was sharing a weather report instead of revisiting what had to be the most horrific memory of her entire life. Hell, Griff felt sucker punched by her words. Before he could come up with something to say—because there was nothing to say that would even dull the sting for her—Chloe pushed on. “I saved both of us.”

  “Holy shit, Chloe.” Since there were no words, Griff just gathered her into a tight hug. Still didn’t feel like enough. So he lifted her onto his lap. Buried his face in the brown silk of her hair and tried to push back the visions swamping him. Chloe bleeding.
Screaming in terror. Refusing to give up, despite the pain and the seemingly insurmountable odds. Easy, way too easy for Griff to picture, since he’d done all of it himself once.

  Maybe his heat, his touch would comfort her. Because she couldn’t be over something like that. Not even after ten years. He sure as hell wasn’t.

  She curled in, clutched his neck. And then they just breathed together, heartbeats falling into sync, chest to chest. There was only the occasional creak of the blossom-heavy branches beyond the white noise of the D.C. traffic in the background. Griffin could’ve stayed like that all night. Chloe’s weight on his lap felt…not familiar, exactly, but something else. She felt right. Which was, in itself, a mix of awesome and scary. Like the first time he’d piloted a rescue in a Category 3 hurricane.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?” To give her an out, Griff then offered, “Or do you want me to just go home and Google you?”

  A shaky laugh let him know he’d taken the right approach. “Definitely don’t Google. The pictures of me from that day are far from flattering. It put the term bad hair day in a whole different perspective.”

  He was a second away from high-fiving a “been there, done that” with her. Because when the ACSs had finally staggered into a village, two and a half days after the accident, they’d looked like extras from a zombie flick. Pale from blood loss, covered in crusted blood and stubble and streaked dirt. Hell, he barely recognized himself in some of the footage. But then Griff knew he couldn’t share his story with Chloe. Not tonight. That would be selfish. This was her big revelation. It deserved to be the sole focus.

  “You’re very pretty right now, Chloe. That’s all that matters.”

  “You’re right. I mean, thank you.” She splayed her hand against his chest, fingers curling in a little rhythmic caress that barely moved her wrist. “The first volley of shots came in through the window. Glass sprayed everywhere. That was all that any of us registered, at first. What had happened was so unfathomable, our brains didn’t make the leap. Just focused on the rain of glass shards. Stupidly, we stayed at our desks. Did you ever watch the old Road Runner and Coyote cartoons?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you remember how the coyote could run right off a cliff, and he wouldn’t fall until he looked down? It was like that. Until the first body slumped over, spurting blood across the aisle, we didn’t put together the danger we were in. Lillian Chang unfroze us all. She fell sideways onto the floor in a heap. A second later, more shots came through the window.”

  Her hand stilled now, the nails digging in at the memory. Griff could take it. Whatever made it even one iota easier for her to recount the tale, he’d take.

  “I saw Summer jerk. Clutch at her chest. Then one arm fell away as she jerked again. I didn’t know what to do—I just knew that I couldn’t bear to watch her slide onto the floor like Lillian. So I ran around the desk. Grabbed her under her arms and kind of dragged her over to Mr. Metcalf’s desk. He was already on the ground. Right as I pushed Summer under his desk, there were more of those sharp pops, this time from the hallway. Popping. Screaming. Moaning. I tried to push the lectern in front of the door, but I got too dizzy. That’s when I realized the blood slicking my hands was my own.”

  Her voice caught. Griff smoothed one hand down the curve of her head, over and over. After more than a dozen strokes, Chloe relaxed against him again. This time, her words came out in a rush.

  “I got it toppled over on its side. Didn’t block the door entirely, but with it angled against Mr. Metcalf’s body, he sort of jammed it in place. I took off his belt. Tied it in a tourniquet around the gunshot wound in Summer’s arm. She’d already bled so, so much, I wasn’t sure it would do any good, but I had to try. Then I grabbed the textbook off the desk, and then I huddled in the space under the desk, too. Took off my socks to plug her chest wound. Put the textbook on top to put pressure on it. But I’d forgotten about my wound again, so then I had to pull off Summer’s socks and press them against my side. And we sat there while more shots came through the open slit of the door. Sat there listening to people die, one by one, the room getting quieter and quieter. I held Summer’s hand, even after she passed out. I wouldn’t let go, not even after the SWAT team came in. Not until they loaded us onto gurneys, and the paramedic told me that I’d saved her, but now she’d die if I didn’t let go.”

  Griffin pressed a kiss to the top of her head. How many other lives had she saved by blocking that door? Summer definitely would’ve died without her quick thinking. Her courage. Her selflessness. “You’re amazing.”

  “I doubt that. Not in the grand scheme of things. I mean, look at you. You save people how many times a week? I just pulled it together for a couple of hours.”

  Griff was an expert at deflecting compliments. The tag of hero never got less uncomfortable, no matter how many times he heard it. Seemed Chloe felt the same way. So he moved right along. “I’m glad you did.”

  “Me too.” Shoving her hair behind her ear, Chloe continued, a little softer now. “We survived that day. And for a really long time after that, I stayed in survival mode. Jumping at every noise. Not sleeping. You could say I didn’t have the typical college experience.”

  What Griff took away from that? Simply another example of her titanium inner core. Lots of people who’d experienced that massive a trauma would’ve gotten sucked into drugs or alcohol as an escape. Or ditched college entirely. But not Chloe. And he admired the hell out of her for it. “You stayed at Raleigh?”

  “More or less. At first there were tutors for all of us. The university gave us a ton of leeway. I’d sign up for a full load, but if a required class was in a certain building that I’m never, ever setting foot in again”—and still her voice stayed as steady as his chopper in a clear sky; Griff marveled at her strength—“then I wouldn’t go. The teacher would meet with me during office hours and basically redo the class, privately. But I only gave in to that once or twice, the year right after it happened.”

  He leapt at the chance to lighten her mood, to pull her out of the painful recounting. “I don’t know—you not going to classes? Sounds like a typical college experience to me.”

  “Funny.” She tickled his neck with the fringed ends of her scarf. “Lamely funny, but I appreciate your attempt at humor. Most people give me the pity eyes and the sympathetic head nods and leave it at that.”

  That was a definite signal. The emotional tidal wave portion of the evening had wrapped up. “I’m a Coast Guard lieutenant. We pride ourselves on going above and beyond in every situation.”

  “Ha.” This time she beamed at him. “Much more legitimately funny.”

  “For the record, was that your big, first-date life spoiler? Or was it the warm-up act? Should I be bracing for news that you survived an alien abduction? Or worse, used to be the corn-dog dipper at the state fair?”

  “Are you really against corn dogs?”

  “Oh, yeah. You can’t put chili cheese on a corn dog. Or relish. Or sauerkraut. The condiment limitations kill it for me.”

  “Duly noted. Well, all of that was a long way of coming back around to those.” Chloe popped off his lap and pointed at the Segways with a raging stink-eye. “The sad truth is, I’m not the least bit adventurous.” She grinned at him. “But I do enjoy watching other people be adventurous—especially you, who referenced going commando—while I’m picturing them mostly naked.”

  “Only mostly?”

  “Some details need, um, visual confirmation.”

  If she were still on his lap, she’d get all the confirmation she needed. Griff waved an arm at the Jefferson Memorial across the lagoon. “The Park Police would have me arrested in a blink if I shucked my pants to satisfy your curiosity.”

  She pouted. “Fine. I’ll take a rain check on the full disclosure.”

  Griff thought about how easily secrets slipped out at the worst time. Thought about how he’d almost jettisoned this night. “Full disclosure? There’s something I h
aven’t told you.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m winning a bet by going out with you tonight.”

  “Hmmm. I’m not sure if I should feel flattered or used.”

  The more Griff thought about it, he wasn’t sure either. It’d been cocky as shit for him to assume she’d say yes. “I swear I would’ve asked you out with or without the bet. It just sweetened the deal.”

  She pursed her lips. “How much sweeter?”

  “Fifty bucks.”

  “Do I get half of it?”

  “How about I blow all that and more on dinner for both of us?”

  “That sounds fair. As long as you explain the parameters of the bet. I want to know what I was up against.”

  “Trust me—the other guy never stood a chance.” He tucked a hand in the back pocket of Chloe’s jeans to pull her close. “I’ll have our guide radio back to headquarters and get people out here to grab the Segways. We can cab to dinner.”

  “Better and better. Can we not talk about, you know, my whole big, sad incident anymore?”

  “Sweetness, we don’t have to talk anymore at all.” Griffin moved in on her. Fast, so she wouldn’t have time to think about anything. Not the tour guide still lurking down the sidewalk about fifty paces. Not the endless Cherry Blossom Festival tourists in the paddleboats below them. And definitely no thinking about the past.

  Griff considered it his duty, as a good date, to erase all those thoughts from her mind. So he slanted his mouth across her lips. They were cool from the twilight air. They wouldn’t be for long.

  Right now, Chloe didn’t need sweetness. Probably wouldn’t appreciate cautious tenderness either. She needed heat. Raging desire. Good thing Griff was packing that in spades.

  He didn’t even give her time to adjust, time to soften underneath him. No, Griff just poured his lust for her onto her lips. Slipped his tongue inside on her first gasp of surprise. And then he just took her.

  The hand in her jeans pocket slid out to better curve around the entirety of her sweet, tight ass. To pull Chloe up to her tiptoes and notch her against the rock hardness tenting out the zipper of his jeans. Griff’s other hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back to an angle that gave him the best access.