Page 33 of The Sweetest Risk

“Maybe.” Tristan swipes all the cards up with his huge hand. His tongue playfully licks his lips. Then he looks directly at me, clearly forgetting that we are surrounded by people and aren’t alone, and says in the most seductive way possible, “But it’s not nearly as fun.”

He knows what he is doing and it’s working. I squirm a little in my chair as tingles travel all across my body. I have to do something to make him just as uneasy. And I know how much he despises the man holding onto my leg right now.

“You’re right,” I respond just as seductively. Then, I decide to do the riskiest thing I’ve probably done in my life. (I know that’s sad, but it’s true. I am the poster child for playing by the rules.)

I turn to Dean, pull him near me and kiss him on the cheek. Innocent, but deadly to the man standing across from me, clutching onto the deck of cards so tightly with one hand that they actually start to bend in half.

Tristan looks like he is about to kill a man. I’ve seen him frustrated before, but never like this. This is a whole new level of Tristan. He looks like the most dangerous man in the world.

It was a peck on the cheek. It’s not like I made out with the guy. But even if I did, it’s not like Tristan and I are together. Why should he care who I am kissing or dating?

The poor card dealer that stepped out comes back. I guess he could read the tension, too. He reaches down and attempts to pry the cards out of Tristan’s steel grip. Tristan finally wrenches his gaze from me, looks down at the sweet employee and lets go of the cards. He rolls down his sleeves and practically knocks the chair over while retrieving his jacket. Although a beautiful man’s hand is firmly still on my upper thigh, I can’t help but notice Tristan’s clenched fists as he storms away from the table, toward the silent auction set up in the back of the venue.

“Um, I think I am done playing blackjack for the night.”

Dean’s hand slides from my thigh to my lower back. “Yeah, okay that’s fine.” Then he looks up behind me and his eyebrows draw together. “They are waving me over. I think it’s my turn to deal some cards over there. Come find you in a little bit?”

“Sounds good. I’ll be around.”

I need to go talk to Tristan anyway. What the hell has gotten into him?

17

Ihad to get away from that table immediately or I was going to finish the job that I left on the ice. She fucking kissed him? I don’t care that it was on his damn cheek. Her lips were on his skin and that fucking bothers me. Did the other night mean nothing?

I practice my breathing exercises to calm down my anger, when in the corner of my eye, I sense the very woman who brings me to my knees. She has no idea the effect she has on me. It doesn’t help that she walked into this damn room with the sexiest dress I’ve ever seen on any woman. Who am I kidding? Brooke could’ve walked into the venue with a bright pink shirt and overalls and still commanded the room with her presence. She always has.

Just go talk to her. You need to talk to her now. Before it’s too late.

I can’t let Hastings go home with her.

I slowly make my way over to Brooke, who is pretending like I don’t exist. Typical Brooke.

I notice she is perusing the stay in Telluride that I anonymously donated. Tapping the pen against the table while simultaneously tapping her foot in the same nervous fashion.

I clear my throat and Brooke flinches slightly.

“That looks like a nice trip,” I say.

“Yup,” she curtly responds without even looking up at me. I haven’t been this close to her all night. She smells like summer. Coconut? Delicious.

I peek over her shoulder, my torso almost touching her perfect ass. “To be honest, I didn’t take you for a gambling type of girl. But what do I know, right? You went ahead and kissed Hastings, so I must be wrong about you, Cupcake.”

“Yeah, maybe you don’t know me, Hot Shot. I thought that I should make it known to him that I am very interested in dating him.”

What the actual fuck? “Since when do youdatehockey players? You’ve never dated hockey players.” What I want to say is: “I thought that was your #1 rule. I thought it was unbreakable.”

“Like we’ve already established, a girl can change. And you clearly don’t know me.”

“So it seems.” My jaw clenches out of frustration and annoyance. She looks so fucking hot and I want so bad for her to not be interested in Dean. Or to be Bradley’s younger sister. I just want her to be Brooke.

Just Brooke.

“Why Hastings?” I seethe.

“Why not Hastings? He’s hot and I am sick of playing it safe. It hasn’t gotten me anywhere so far. Might as well have fun with Dean.”

I fume as I register the words “hot” and “fun.” That combination creates a mental image that I immediately want to erase. Especially since it involves fucking Hastings. He is winning her over and I can’t let that happen.

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