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Authors: Kimberly Kincaid

BOOK: Reckless
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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Between his head feeling like it was chock-full of old rubber cement and his shoulder locked up tighter than a CIA safe house, Alex was pretty sure this morning ranked up there in his Top Ten Most Fucktacular.
He didn't even want to get started on the jagged hole in his chest that, while metaphorical, still hurt worse than everything else combined.
“Good morning, sunshine. Are you decent?” Cole stuck his head past the door to Alex's hospital room, just in time for Alex to give him a one-fingered salute.
“I take that as a yes,” Cole said with a smile, and God. Nothing would
ever
rattle him. “I saw the doc in the hall. He said you're clear for takeoff, huh?”
Alex nodded, running his hand over the sweats and T-shirt O'Keefe had dropped off when he'd gotten off shift a few hours ago. “Yeah. He just came in and did the last of the concussion protocol, and the nurse went over all this stuff with me.” He gestured to the pile of papers he'd barely listened to her review.
“Any update on your guy from the fire?” Cole asked, and Alex's gut squeezed hard despite the news he'd finally wrangled out of one of the nurses.
“Yeah. He spent the night in the ICU while they stabilized him, but it looks like he'll end up being okay.”
Cole's brows lowered in confusion. “I might be off the mark here, but isn't that a good thing?”
“It is,” Alex said, his heart starting to pound as hard as his head. “I just wish I hadn't hesitated. I should've done my job better.”
“Bullshit.”
The single-word affirmation had Alex's stare whipping up toward his best friend. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Cole said. “You didn't hesitate yesterday because you weren't doing your job, Alex. You hesitated because you
were
. You knew I needed backup on that hose, and you knew that even though Jones is learning fast, he couldn't do it alone. Freelancing your way down the hall on a maybe wouldn't just have been reckless. It would've been dangerous.”
“But it didn't turn out to be a maybe,” Alex argued, a nauseous pang working up from the waistband of his sweats. “I should've trusted my instincts.”
“And that's just what you did, you big dumb-ass.” Cole's delivery carried a complete lack of anger or heat, stunning Alex into silence. “Your instincts told you to do your job and back us up. When the game changed and you saw that guy for sure, you acted, and we did ours to back
you
up. Yeah, the job is full of risks and what-ifs. But you know how to deal with those. Now more than ever.”
Alex sat still for a minute, absorbing Cole's words, and shit, the guy was right. “Yeah,” he agreed slowly. “I guess you're right.”
“So how long before you come back to Eight for real this time?”
Alex held up the papers in his lap. “I'm on restricted duty for a couple of weeks, 'til my follow-up CT scan, and I'm not supposed to drive. But other than that . . .”
Cole nodded, dangling the keys to his Jeep from his forefinger. “I've got you covered. What do you say we hit Scarlett's for some late breakfast? You must be starving.”
His brain shifted from one heartache to another. Jesus, he missed Zoe. “Nah. They brought me breakfast here earlier.” Never mind that he hadn't even touched the tray. The only thing Alex wanted was the one thing he couldn't have.
You need to snap out of it. With how stubborn that woman is, gone is gone.
“You want to talk about it?” Cole asked, crossing his arms over his white T-shirt.
“Talk about what?” Okay, so his attempt at denial was half-assed at best, and Cole knew him well enough to see it for what it was, but still. All the talking in the universe wasn't going to change the fact that Zoe had left.
And no matter how much Alex wanted her to, she wasn't coming back.
“Well, let's see.” Cole held up one hand, and Alex braced for round two of the Everett Inquisition. “For starters, you've never
not
been hungry for Scarlett's breakfast in your life. Two, I know you spent the night in the hospital, but you look like hammered shit. And lastly . . .” He paused, easing up on his volume by just a notch. “I'm here driving you home instead of your girlfriend. So really, dude. The
I'm fine
thing? Not gonna fly with me.”
Alex blew out a breath, and screw it. Now was as good a time as any to get rid of the crummy feelings he'd been jamming back all night. “Zoe decided to break things off.”
He forked out a highlights-only version of the events leading up to the fire call, then another of the conversation with Zoe that had followed. Cole listened without a word in response, although Alex knew it wasn't for lack of attention or opinion.
Finally, Cole ran his palms down the front of his jeans. “Damn. I'm sorry, man.”
“I am too.” Alex's impulsive side told him to just forget it, to blow off all these sticky emotions and skip forward to find the next moment to really live in. Instead, he said, “Do you remember a couple of weeks ago at Bellyflop, how you said maybe it was my karma that put me in the kitchen with Zoe?”
Cole nodded. “Yeah.”
“It wasn't.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because,” Alex said, his gut knotting up to match the throb in his shoulder. “I've never done anything good enough in my life to deserve her. Even if she couldn't stay.”
Grabbing his paperwork, he swung his feet off the hospital bed, eager to just put this place and this day behind him. Cole reached for the door, sliding it open so Alex could cross the threshold.
Zoe stood two inches in front of him, her hand poised to knock.
“Oh, jeez!” Her bloodshot eyes flew wide, her face clearly showing signs of a sleepless night, but Christ, she was still beautiful. “I, um. I was going to knock.”
His heart slammed against his sternum, and finally he managed to say, “I see that.”
A beat passed, then another before Cole said, “I'll just wait for you at the nurse's station down the hall, Teflon. It's good to see you, Zoe.”
Alex nodded a quick
thanks
to his buddy before turning back toward Zoe in the otherwise empty hallway.
She pressed her lips together, eyes downcast. “I heard the man you rescued is going to be okay. That's really good news.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, trying like hell to read her expression.
A flare of emotion burned through her eyes as she glanced up from the floor. “And you look better. You know, almost fine.”
He pinned Zoe with a quiet stare, a glimmer of hope sparking out from the very center of his chest despite his efforts to remain cautious. “Is that why you came here? To see how I am?”
“No. I don't know. I thought . . . I mean, I came here to . . . What I really wanted to say is . . .” She stopped, her honey-colored brows settling into that look of determination that told Alex she was dead set on getting what she wanted.
“I am in love with you, and I thought you should know.”
Holy. Shit. “You what?”
Zoe moved forward, her words falling out in a rush. “I know what I said last night, about being too afraid to risk. But you were right, Alex. I can't live my life in a bubble. Not when what I really want is to live it with you. Yes, I am scared out of my mind at the thought of losing you. But I'm even more scared at the thought of not ever having you. If you still want me, I want to take the risk. I want to be with you. I want—”
“Zoe, stop.”
“Oh God. What?” A look of panic streaked over her face, but Alex quelled it by closing the space between them. He pulled her in tight, and yeah. No matter how high the skydive, no matter how tough the climb or rough the rapids,
this
was the biggest thrill Alex ever wanted.
“You don't have to convince me,” he said, brushing a kiss over her shock-parted lips. “I love you, too. I don't want to be anywhere other than with you.”
“Really?” she asked, her smile lighting up her face.
“I'm a no-bullshit kind of guy, remember? If I tell you I love you, I mean it for keeps.”
“Well, good.” Zoe's smile became an ear-to-ear grin. “Because even though it's a day early, I was hoping we could still have that breakfast date with my dad.”
Alex pulled back, but only far enough to give her a quizzical look. “You think he'll be okay with this? You are his only daughter.”
“Let's just say I think he's got
both
of our backs. And anyway, we've got some celebrating to do.”
“I'd hardly call me getting released from the hospital after a scrape or two something to celebrate,” he said with a laugh, but the excitement on Zoe's face snared his attention.
“I'd beg to differ, but your clean bill of health isn't the only thing we're celebrating.”
“What else is there?” Alex asked.
Zoe's whiskey-colored eyes started to glimmer. “Well, in all the commotion yesterday, I missed a phone call from Emily Collingsworth. In fact, I didn't even see her message on my cell until this morning.”
Alex said a silent prayer of thanks that he wasn't still attached to the pulse monitor, because he probably would've destroyed the thing from the sheer amount of
no way
pumping through his veins. “The grant lady?”
“I think she'd get a kick out of being called that, actually. Yes, the grant lady. She and I had a lovely talk this morning. We actually spent about thirty minutes on the phone.”
“Zoe,” he warned, and she lifted her hands in concession.
“Okay, okay. I'll get to the good stuff. Mrs. Collingsworth is obviously part of the committee that reviews the applications for her foundation's grant. She called to tell me that while Hope House wasn't chosen for the money, she was very impressed with the plans we set forth in the application, and the support we rallied within the community to raise awareness of the program. She wants to meet with me next week to talk about some smaller charity projects and other financial assistance Hope House might qualify for. She felt really confident we'd be able to make the changes we proposed in the application if we put our minds to it.”
“That's amazing,” he said, and his chest filled with happiness at the look of sheer hope on her face. “It's everything you wanted.”
But Zoe shook her head. “Not everything. I want you, too, Alex, right here next to me. Without you, I never would've had the nerve to get reckless.”
Alex leaned down to kiss her, unable to hold back his cocky smile. “Just you wait, Gorgeous. If it's reckless you want, I've got nothing but time to give it to you.”
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
 
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
 
Copyright © 2016 by Kimberly Kincaid
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
 
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-3773-6
 
eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-3774-3
eISBN-10: 1-4201-3774-3
 

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