Page 3 of Take The Risk

​I didn’t miss the way she said “you and your son” dismissively. Judging by the way Alex sucked in a breath, she hadn’t missed it either.

​“You little—” Alex pulled her ponytail tighter, trying to step around me.

​A bird took off, making me jump, followed by the slamming of a car door. My fingers started rolling together again. “Actually…” I tried to keep my voice calm with forced patience. “If you bothered to pay attention to our mediation last week, you’d remember the custody arrangement had been ordered and signed by a judge. It says, ‘Court Order’ on the top of the page.” The board creaked again, and I swallowed, even though I was the one who did it. So much for the new Phoebe. “Now, leave.”

​“You don’t order me—”

​“Is there a problem here?”

Chapter 2

​“Wow,” Alex breathed, attention riveted to the edge of my driveway.

​Wow freaking indeed.

​In front of the hedge separating my property from my neighbors, three men stood in a formidable line. They were dressed similarly in basketball shorts and those muscle shirts I thought should be illegal for men with muscles like that to wear, making my mouth go dry. Oh, look at those tattoos…

​“I said,” the man with the coffee-colored skin in the middle repeated. He moved, flanked by his friends. “Is there a problem here?”

​My vision swam, and Alex clamped a hand on my wrist, squeezing just the way she knew I needed. I prayed she wouldn’t be, well…herself. Guess who was doomed to disappointment?

​“As a matter of fact,” she announced with a gleam in her eye. “There is!”

​“Alex!” I warned, keeping my voice low. I tried to focus on the feel of her hand squeezing my wrist at regular intervals.

​I knew my best friend, and embarrassing the hell out of me wasn’t exactly a limit for her if it meant she could fuck someone over, uncaring if it did the thing I hated most: draw attention to me. This was why I was a writer. Writing meant I could hide away for days on end, or as much as possible when you were a parent, and not have to handle people. Even if they were gorgeous people.

​She continued, waving her free hand grandly at Jeremy and Layla, “My friend’s defective starter husband and his walking reason condoms should always be used are harassing us and won’t leave. I’m worried we’ll end up on an episode of Dateline. Will you tell Keith my smile lit up a room?”

​It was hard to tell, but I thought I saw the leader’s lips twitch, and heard a chuckle that was covered by a cough coming from one of the men beside him.

​I snorted, my vision slowly clearing as her humor started to ground me at the same time Layla and Jeremy erupted.

​“Shut your stupid mouth, Alex!” Jeremy growled, his round face, which showed the extra thirty pounds he’d gained, turning red.

​So apparently Jeremy’s whole “I need to pretend not to be an asshole in public” thing was over. Good to know.

​“How could you say that about a pregnant—” Layla sniffled, pretending like she was crying.

​“ENOUGH!” The man who was furthest from me snapped, striding forward. His friends rearranged themselves to flank him. “Get the hell off the lady’s property. Now.”

​Everything in my head quieted at the sound of that voice. That voice. It was rough, like a diesel engine just when it started up. It was a sound that slid along my skin and down my spine to settle in places I thought had no life left in them. My fingers stilled. My simple cotton bra suddenly was rough on my nipples, which hardened in response to that voice. I was grateful to be wearing a thick bra, or things were going to be less than PG quickly.

​My eyes found his, and I could no longer feel Alex’s hand on my wrist or the creaky boards beneath my sock-covered feet. I wasn’t even sure there was air around me, which explained why I was feeling lightheaded as I fell into those eyes.

​They weren’t brown or gold. They were a rich amber color, making me think of the finest brandy Alex and I had had on our trip to France. Amber eyes. And those eyes were flashing fire as they shifted to Jeremy and Layla.

​“You can’t tell me what to do!” Jeremy huffed, sizing the men up, deciding that he, in his fancy suit with his expensive Lexus, was somehow superior to the men in their “casual clothes.”

​“Actually,” a voice drawled as a man appeared around the hedge, moving leisurely with a kind of arrogant gait that said he could handle himself. “I can.” He flipped his hand around, and that was when the glint of gold caught my eye. A badge.

​He surveyed us, taking in every detail in the way only a cop could, settling finally on me. “Ma’am, do you want these people to leave?”

​“We aren’t finished,” Jeremy argued, the papers in his hand crunching as he fisted them.

​Amber Eyes’ gaze settled on me, and something bloomed in my chest. With more strength than I knew I possessed, I said, “I want them both gone.”

​“You heard the lady.” The officer came up my porch steps, Amber Eyes moving with him. “Failing to leave a property after being asked by the owner is criminal trespassing in Georgia. I suggest you save yourselves the charges and the night in jail.”