Page 14 of Wild Valentine
My stomach drops at the reminder of my birthday. It’s in five days, the same day as Valentine’s Day. Marcus senses the change in my mood.
“What did I say?”
I’m not ready to tell him about my mother and the Valentine’s Day curse, not yet. “My birthday’s next week.”
He chuckles until he sees my expression. “You don’t like birthdays?”
“Not ones on Valentine’s Day.”
Marcus looks pained for a moment. The instructor comes up to secure me to the next rope and blocks my view of him.
When I see him again, he’s smiling.
“You want to go first on this one?”
He doesn’t pry about Valentine’s Day, which is a relief.
The next challenge is a walk over the forest on nothing but a thin metal wire with ropes to hold onto on either side.
If you’d told me I’d be doing this yesterday morning as I navigated the early New York traffic to LaGuardia airport, I’d never have believed you.
When Marcus bought me here, a million excuses went through my head. I’m too heavy. I’m scared of heights. I’m not adventurous. He ignored all my protests, because it turns out none of them are true. If it can take Marcus’s weight, it can take mine, and I’m not actually scared of heights. I’ve just never had the opportunity to be on anything high apart from an office building with thick windows.
As I shimmy across the thin rope, I wonder how I’m going to explain the Valentine’s Day curse to Marcus. There’s a curse on my family, and we were good for a while, but now only bad things happen on Valentine’s Day? I’m going to sound crazy.
We get to the next platform, and I slide in beside the instructor as Marcus expertly maneuvers across. He slides across the rope not once looking down, sure-footed and confident. He’s agile for a big man, and I guess that’s his army training.
“What did you do in the military?”
He doesn’t answer, and when I look up, he’s eyeing me warily.
“Nice try, angel.”
I’m not sure when he started calling me angel or why, but it makes my tummy go all fluttery and my cheeks heat.
“I wasn’t…”
I’m about to say I wasn’t prying for information, but I’m not sure that’s true. Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing?
I went to his cabin wrapped in a towel for the express purpose of getting him to ask me out. I’m not stupid. I saw the way he looked at me in the bar. I hate to say it, but Scott wasright. Marcus is a hot-blooded man, and if anything’s going to get the story it’s my feminine wiles, or at least my boobs.
I feel a twinge of uneasiness at the thought. It’s not really ethical to turn up in a towel to get his attention. I was half hoping it wouldn’t work, that he wouldn’t be just another hot-blooded male. I was both elated and disappointed when he asked me out today.
But it’s not just because I need this story.I like him.How could I not? He’s hot and muscular and artistic. He’s a deep thinker with a past. He’s thoughtful and kind, and did I mention his muscles? His arms look like they could break me in half while his hands could mold me…
“Sorry.” I shake the thought of his hands on me out of my head. “I’m naturally curious.”
He harrumphs at me, and I wonder if he’s going to open up. God knows I need this story and this promotion, but I’m uneasy about it. I hate myself for tricking him into spending time with me. Even if I am enjoying myself.
“The next one is the longest zip line on the course,” the instructor says as he latches my harness to the wire.
Marcus steps onto the platform, and his presence looms over me. We’re so close but there’s nowhere to go, nowhere to back up to even if I wanted to.
“Of course you are,” he murmurs.
His thumb brushes at my cheek, tucking away a strand of hair away that’s come lose from my helmet.
“I’m not doing the story, Hazel, but if you’re curious, come by for dinner and I’ll show you my work. Off the record.”
