Risking It All

by Jennifer Schmidt

  “Were you asleep?” he asked, closing the door and tossing his keys on the table.

  “What time is it?” She yawned.

  “Almost seven,” he called from the kitchen where he’d taken the food, and came back out with a frown on his face. “Have you been sleeping all day?”

  “Not all day,” she muttered.

  “Are you feeling all right?” He watched her carefully as he slipped his jacket off and tossed it over a chair.

  “Peachy,” she answered, causing him to pause at her tone. She sighed and forced a smile. “I’m just a little sleep deprived. You know, with trying to get everything ready for the show.”

  “Don’t work too hard and run yourself down.”

  Kennedy tried not to roll her eyes at the advice. Always the doctor.

  “You know it’s next week, right?”

  “Is it coming up that soon already?”

  Kennedy clamped her teeth together to keep from snapping at him. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and held his gaze.

  “What?” he asked. So clueless.

  “You are planning to attend, aren’t you?” she asked, trying to remain calm.

  “Oh. Well . . .” He shifted from foot to foot and folded his arms. It was his telltale move; Kennedy figured he was bracing himself for the fight he was sure was about to take place. “I haven’t checked my schedule yet.”

  “It’s next week,” Kennedy pointed out. “Shouldn’t you have done that a month ago when I told you about the show?”

  “Kennedy, it’s not really a big deal—”

  Kennedy flinched; it was like a slap in the face. Her show, the thing she had worked for since she was eighteen, her dream come true, wasn’t a big deal to him?

  “It’s a big deal to me,” she told him, trying to fight back tears.

  “No, sweetheart, that’s not what I meant,” Brooks said, moving to sit beside her. “Of course this is a big deal to you, as it should be.” Kennedy sniffed and looked away. “I just didn’t think it was such a big deal to you that I be there.”

  “Why would you think that?” She shook her head at his dense assumption and looked at him. “Why wouldn’t I want you there? You are an important part of my life, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Then why wouldn’t I want all the people who are important to me there to celebrate this with me?”

  Brooks looked down at his clasped hands before replying.

  “I just figured you’d have your parents there—”

  “My parents?” Kennedy laughed. “Yes, because they’ve been such a big support system.”

  “Memphis will be there,” he added.

  “Is that why you don’t want to come? Because Memphis will be there?”

  “No.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand down the side of his face, frustrated by how the conversation was going. He looked at her and said, “I didn’t think it would be such a big deal if I missed it if you had all those people.”

  “Well, it is a big deal. I want you there, Brooks,” she said softly.

  He was silent for a moment.

  “Okay. I’ll be there.”

  Kennedy looked at him, undecided if she could believe him or not.

  “You will?”

  “If being there is that important to you, I’ll be there, Kennedy,” he promised.

  “Despite what your schedule says?” she asked, very skeptical.

  Brooks chuckled and reached his arm around her, pulling her to his side.

  “Despite what my schedule says.”

  Kennedy lifted her head off his shoulder and tenderly kissed his lips.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “All you have to do is ask and I’ll do my best to make it happen, Kennedy,” he told her, squeezing her thigh before he stood. Her stomach twisted at his words as Kennedy watched him disappear into the kitchen. She knew he meant well, but should she really have to ask him to do something? Shouldn’t he know, especially when it came to something as important as that to her, that she would want him there?

  “Hungry?” he called. “I brought your favorite—Thai.”

  “Not really.”

  “I meant what I said, though, Kennedy,” he hollered from the kitchen. “You shouldn’t be working yourself so hard that you get run down. I’ll bring you a plate.”

  He cared for her health; at least there was that.

  After listening to him bang around the kitchen, she called out to him. “Brooks?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I was thinking after the show is over I would take a little break and go somewhere,” she said, not sure how he would react to the idea of her going off with Memphis for a week.

  “I think that’s a great idea. I think I can get some time off, maybe. Or a long weekend when I’m not on call.”

  The suggestion startled Kennedy. Since when had he ever said he could get time off? Hell, they were just arguing over him taking a night off.

  “I was thinking of going to Alaska,” she told him, treading carefully since he assumed he was invited, adding, “With Memphis.”

  Kennedy looked up when Brooks came out of the kitchen and set two plates on the table. He didn’t say anything right away; instead he sat down at one of the settings and picked up his cutlery.

  “With Memphis?” He took a slow bite.

  “He’s going back to Alaska for a week to do some work for a new resort opening up there.” She stood and went to sit at the table with him. “He invited me to go along with him.”

  Brooks stopped mid-chew and finally looked at her.

  “When do you leave?”

  “In two weeks.”

  He nodded and swallowed the food in his mouth.

  “That’s good timing, then,” he said without reaction, spearing another piece of food.

  Kennedy narrowed her eyes at him, not sure if he was being a smart-ass or not.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

  “I’m leaving for another conference around that time.” He shrugged. “At least you’ll have something to do while I’m gone.”

  “Another one? You just got back from one.”

  “I know that.” He lowered the fork. “Do you want me to apologize for being such a great doctor that other hospitals are interested in me?”

  “No, of course not,” she said. “You’re gone a lot lately, though.”

  “At least you’ll have something to do this time, too.”

  “Where are you going?”

  He looked down at his plate and pushed around his food before answering, “Back to Montreal.”

  Something about the way he hesitated in his answer and was suddenly avoiding eye contact awakened Kennedy’s sixth sense. Something was off. She watched him closely, waiting for him to look at her again but all he did was play with his food. Having no basis to start accusations, she decided to let the subject of his job go.

  “So, you’re okay with me going with Memphis?”

  He met her eyes again.

  “Why shouldn’t I be okay with it?” His smirk turning into a sneer. “You are just friends, right?”

  Kennedy glared at him for what she felt was an accusation, and left the table. She stomped to her bedroom and slammed the door. She knew it was a childish thing to do, but she didn’t care.

  Brooks would deny it, but the allegation was there beneath the not-so-innocent words. It wasn’t a secret he always thought there had been something between her and Memphis—a secret affair at one point.

  His words cut more than she could ever imagine. He didn’t have to say what he actually meant, it was written all over his face. Kennedy had always been faithful and honest; not only to him but to every man she’d dated. She had been cheated on more than once, but despite some of her exes deserving the same treatment they dished out, she had never crossed that line. It not only hurt that Brooks would imply what he did, it downright pissed her off.

  Kennedy stalked to her bathroom and filled t
he Jacuzzi tub as she stripped off her clothes. She added some apple-cinnamon-scented bubble bath before slipping into the warm water. She didn’t want to walk around all day smelling like baked goods, but the scent was her bath time pleasure. She closed her eyes as the aroma filled the room. It soothed and calmed her nerves after a long day . . . or a fight with her boyfriend.

  She hadn’t been in the tub for more than ten minutes when there was a knock.

  Kennedy opened her eyes and stared at the closed door. She closed her eyes again, leaning her head against the back of the tub. “Come in,” she finally said.

  Brooks entered, not saying a word as he sat on the edge of the tub beside her. When Kennedy opened her eyes, he gave her a sheepish smile.

  “I guess that was uncalled-for, huh?”

  “You guess?” It was her turn to sneer at him.

  “When you said you were going away, I thought maybe it would be with me or Vanessa or Erin,” he said, mentioning her two friends from the restaurant where she used to work.

  “Vanessa is pregnant and Erin moved two months ago,” Kennedy replied, dryly.

  Brooks’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “She did? Vanessa is?”

  Kennedy huffed and glared at him.

  “I told you that! Remember? I wanted you to go with me to Erin’s going-away party, and you had to work. And I just went to Vanessa’s baby shower last weekend.”

  Brooks gave her a blank look, and she groaned in frustration.

  “Oh, I forgot, unless I’m wearing a white lab coat, whatever I say doesn’t matter,” she muttered.

  “You know that’s not true,” he said in his defense.

  “Do I?” She shook her head. “You don’t make it easy to think otherwise, Brooks.”

  They stared at each other in silence for a few minutes before Kennedy broke eye contact and closed her eyes again.

  “I’m sorry, Kennedy,” Brooks said in whisper. “For the comment, for not remembering about Vanessa’s pregnancy and Erin moving away. I’m sorry for making you feel like you don’t mean anything to me.”

  Kennedy tried to keep the tears behind her eyelids. She tried really hard, but it was pointless, her cheeks were wet.

  “I guess I’m just a little put out that you’re going away with Memphis, but you and I have never gone on a real vacation together yet”

  “Whose fault is that?” Kennedy wiped at her eyes. “You’re always working. You can’t even find time to go to a friend’s going-away party.”

  “Maybe I can take some time off,” he suggested, but Kennedy knew the offer was only halfhearted.

  “We both know you won’t do that,” she muttered, keeping her eyes locked on her knees.

  His silence only confirmed what she already knew.

  “Let me make it up to you now, then,” he said.

  “How do you plan to do that?”

  She heard the rustle of clothes and smirked to herself. Of course he would think that would be making it up to her.

  “For starters,” Brooks said, dropping his hand into the warm water and caressing her calf. “I’m coming to your show. I’ll be the first one through the door if I have to be to prove to you how much you mean to me.”

  Kennedy peeked at him.

  “What else?”

  “That depends on if you let me join you,” he answered with a smile that, despite her being upset with him, made her stomach flip.

  “And if I do?” she said, playing the coy game. “What can you do in here that would make it up to me?”

  “Let me show you,” he murmured.

  She looked at him almost sadly.

  “Sex can’t make it up to me, Brooks,” she said.

  “I know that.” He exhaled and removed his hand from the water. “Maybe I should go to my place tonight.” He made a move to get up, and Kennedy reached for him.

  “Stay.”

  Brooks smiled down at her as he finished peeling his shirt off and made quick work of his pants and boxers.

  Kennedy shifted her legs to make room for him, and he slid into the bath with her.

  “Come here,” he told her once he was settled.

  Kennedy positioned her legs on either side of his hips and grabbed the side of the tub, pulling herself forward until her bottom was nestled on top of his legs and they were almost chest to chest.

  Brooks ran his fingers down her spine and she shivered. He cupped her ass, pulling her closer to him until she was pressed right against his growing arousal. His cock slipped through her folds, resting against her heat.

  “I hate fighting with you,” he whispered, tracing circles on the small of her back.

  “I do, too.”

  “I know I can be a jackass about showing it, but I love you, Kennedy.”

  “Show me now,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his, slowly exploring his mouth. She lightly brushed his tongue with hers, teasing the tip and gently sucking it into her mouth.

  Brooks’s grip on her tightened as he lifted her and positioned her center over the head of his shaft. The water sloshed around them when he bent his legs, drawing them up against her back. He lowered her, groaning as her tightness gripped him every inch of the way down.

  Brooks gripped her hips, helping her move back and forth on him. The water splashed around them, mixing with the sound of their soft moans. Kennedy leaned back on his legs, moving her hips in circles as Brooks slid his hands over her stomach and up to her breasts.

  He pinched her nipples, gently at first, until she cried out for more. He spread his hands over her soft mounds, squeezing them as he pushed them up to his mouth.

  Kennedy moaned in absolute pleasure when he bit down gently. Her breasts had always been sensitive—the weak point of her body—and Brooks knew it. He sucked one of her nipples between his teeth, scraping the pebbled tip. She ran her hand through his hair, giving a slight tug, hoping he would take the hint and be a little rougher

  “Bite harder,” she urged him on, her voice husky with need.

  Instead, Brooks held her nipple captive between his lips and flicked it quickly back and forth with his tongue.

  Kennedy moaned, pressing her chest closer to his mouth.

  “Brooks,” she moaned, “please, use your teeth.”

  He released her nipple from his mouth and blew on it, his warm breath making her skin tingle as it cooled on her breast, causing her to shiver, and her nipple hardened even more. He ignored her request and dropped his hands back to her hips, making her groan.

  Her frustration was quickly forgotten as Brooks lifted his hips, driving into her a little harder. Kennedy leaned forward, bringing her legs back until her knees rested on the tub’s bottom. She moved on top of him faster, riding him harder even as he tried to control her movements.

  “Kennedy,” he rasped, “if you don’t slow down—”

  “I don’t want slow.” She squeezed her thighs tighter around his hips and rocked even harder. She brought her lips to his ear and whispered, “I want you to fuck me, to make me scream. I want to feel you pounding into me, over and over again. I want rough and hard and fast, Brooks.”

  Brooks squeezed her hips, groaning from her words. She knew it turned him on when she talked dirty to him, but they were just words. What she said was only a fantasy; one she knew would never happen. Fucking wasn’t in his nature.

  But the thought of him finally losing control and taking her the way she craved was enough to push Kennedy over the edge, and she cried out against his neck as she came. She felt him stiffen against her and mutter her name before relaxing his body against the back of the tub.

  Kennedy kissed his neck, along his jaw and finally his lips. Brooks wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to his chest, placing a soft kiss on her temple. They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms until the water grew cold, forcing them to retreat to the warmth of Kennedy’s bed.

  Kennedy fell asleep in his arms, content. But when she wok
e hours later and reached for Brooks’s side of the bed, she had to fight back tears as she realized she was once again alone.

  Chapter 3

  Kennedy grabbed the door handle to Strokes of Passion, pausing to take a deep breath before entering the art gallery.

  Today was the day. Today everyone Ryder Hennessy deemed important enough would see her work. Her work. There would be no other paintings to distract the eyes of the other dealers and buyers; they would only be drawn to what she had on display. Everyone who attended tonight would only see what her imagination and hands had created.

  Today was all about her.

  If she hadn’t been holding onto the door she probably would have fallen over. Suddenly anxious, Kennedy started shaking so bad she was surprised the door wasn’t vibrating. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she couldn’t breathe.

  She had no idea what she was thinking when she thought she could play with the big boys. Sure, she had done fairly well the last three years, but well enough to earn her own show? What if no one came tonight? Worse yet, what if the room was full and no one thought she was any good?

  Maybe the show was a mistake. Maybe it wasn’t too late to talk Ryder out of it, cancel tonight, and just quietly sell her paintings like she had been doing all along. She didn’t need to be in the spotlight to be an artist. She didn’t need everyone to know her name in order to do what she loved. She didn’t need to see people fawn over her work.

  No, she didn’t need it, but damn, she wanted it.

  Kennedy inhaled deeply through her nose and closed her eyes, willing her heart rate to slow and her stomach to unknot.

  It was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. She would have Brooks and Memphis with her tonight, and her parents—although they hadn’t been very supportive. But it didn’t matter as long as the two most important people in her life were standing by her side.

  Kennedy started to breathe a little easier and her stomach stopped rolling. She wasn’t going to throw away all her hard work because of a case of cold feet. She deserved this, and by God, she was going to have it.

  She gave herself a firm nod and opened her eyes . . . only to stare right into the amused face of Ryder Hennessey.

  He cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head at her, asking without words what the hell she was doing. Kennedy forced a smile and gave him a small shrug. Ryder crooked his finger at her, coaxing her inside.