Game for Anything (19 page)

She frowned. “I'm not joking. We'll just settle it the way we started—with a coin toss.” After slipping off the bed, she walked to the cupboard and fished a coin out of her jeans. “Heads, we get married. Tails, you can go off with your horses and Jerry and we never see each other again.”

“Okay.”

She whirled to look at him then. “You're willing to settle our future on the toss of a coin?”

“I'm game for it if you are.”

Her eyes narrowed and heated. “Great! Oh, that's just fine and dandy. You're ready to let our whole future be decided by some silly game!”

“I thought you wanted me to learn to go with the flow.”

He saw the flash of fire in her eyes, and before she could work up enough steam to punch him, he went to her, took her in his arms and settled her back on the bed. Then he sat down beside her and took her hands. “Sophie, I'm game for it because you're using a two-headed coin.”

She stared at him then. “How did you…?”

“I gave that coin to Mac as a wedding gift. I knew that she was collecting stuff for her research. I thought she'd get a kick out of it.”

“You've known all along?”

“No. I figured it out about the second or third time you tossed it. It always came up heads.”

She thought for a minute. “I still want to get married.”

“Why don't we try it a more traditional way?” He dropped to his knees and then drew out the box from
his pocket and opened it. “I love you, Sophie Wainwright, and I want you to marry me.”

Sophie stared down at the ring. The diamond in the center was surrounded by stones in every color of the rainbow. She felt a tear escape.

“It's not a traditional ring. You can exchange it if you want, but it reminded me of you.”

“I love it.” The moment he slipped it on her finger, she felt another tear escape. Others filled her throat as she met his eyes. “I love you, T.J. McBride, and I was so afraid of losing you.”

“Me, too, Princess.” He gathered her close and rested his cheek on her hair. “We're a lot alike.”

Chess gave a satisfied sigh from his ringside seat on the chair.

Sophie drew back from Tracker then. “If we're so much alike, then you must know what I'm thinking.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Relax. I'm just thinking that you gave me two presents and I haven't given you anything.” After reaching for her purse, she pulled out the coupon and handed it to him.

He grinned at her. He'd been prepared for this surprise, at least—he'd locked the door. “Here?”

“Now.”

“Your wish is my command, Princess.”

Her teeth were busy at his ear as he pressed her back against the bed. Seconds later, he'd freed himself and tested her. She was so wet, so ready, so his.

She nipped at his ear and whispered, “I've got the black ribbon in there, too…if you're game.”

“Not until you get out of the hospital,” he said as
he eased himself into her and felt the completion he always experienced when they were joined. “Then, as long as I'm with you, I'm game for anything.”

“Me, too, T.J. Me, too.”

Joined as one, they began to move.

“I
DON'T WANT
to leave you.”

Tracker bit back a smile as he unpacked the picnic basket Jerry had prepared. The Princess was in rare form, pacing back and forth beneath the willow tree. Not even a wild chase across the fields on Persephone had settled her nerves. Well, he could relate to that. His own stomach was jittery, too. Getting married wasn't something that a man did every day, and he wanted to do it right.

“Who came up with the ridiculous tradition that a bride can't see her groom on their wedding day? I told Mac I didn't want to have any part of it.”

And that's when Tracker had gotten the emergency phone call from Mac. He poured wine into two glasses and reviewed his game plan. After four months of being together, he was still trying to come up with a method for handling Sophie. Something told him it was going to take a lifetime—a lifetime of colorful passion and challenge and love. He could deal with that.

“I don't see why I have to spend the night before our wedding on the Wainwright estate and leave you here alone,” she complained.

Several responses occurred to Tracker, and each one
held the potential for disaster. Dr. MacKenzie Lloyd Wainwright was a woman on a mission. It amazed him that a research scientist who was eight months pregnant could have the time or the energy to plan a wedding. But Mac had thrown herself into the job with the energy and determination of a five-star general. She was determined to give Sophie a perfect day.

On that point, their goals meshed. He could only hope that his current strategy would work.

Sophie stopped pacing and tapped her foot. “You're not saying anything. Do you agree with Mac? Do you want to spend the night away from me?”

Time to face the firing squad. “Yes, to your first question, and I'm going to pass on the second.”

“Pass?” She narrowed her eyes. “You're doing that on purpose so that you can collect a penalty.”

He grinned at her and held out a hand. “You can see right through me, Princess.”

She moved toward him slowly. “And I suppose you think you can distract me and pacify me with sex.”

“That's my game plan.”

The moment she lowered herself to the blanket beside him, he took her hands and said, “But first I have a question of my own, and I want you to answer it.”

 

S
OPHIE COULD TELL
by the sudden change in his eyes that he was serious. “Okay.”

“Are you reluctant to follow the tradition because you're still afraid that I might walk away from you?”

In his eyes, she saw, as she often did, the perfect mirror of her own doubts and fears. How could she forget that they were so much alike? She willed her
own nerves to settle, and tightened her grip on his hands. “No. I'm not afraid of that anymore.”

“Good. Then I agree with Mac that we ought to spend the night before our wedding apart. I think I'm turning into a traditional kind of guy.”

The thought of that made Sophie want to laugh and cry at the same time. “Not too traditional, I hope.”

He grinned at her. “Just traditional enough to want to give my bride a wedding gift—and untraditional enough to want you to open it right now.”

When he pulled the small box out of his pocket, she stared at it. “This isn't the penalty, is it?”

“Trust me, Princess.”

She did, and after opening the box, she found two halves of a gold coin strung on a narrow black velvet ribbon. “T.J., it's beautiful.”

“It's us,” he said as he lifted it and tied the ribbon at the back of her neck. “Tonight, when we're apart, I want you to wear this and remember that we're two halves of the same coin.”

Even as her eyes began to fill, she drew him close, and when their mouths met, she poured herself into the kiss until she felt that sense of oneness that he was talking about.

Before she lost herself in him completely, Tracker drew back a little. “And the black ribbon is supposed to remind you of something else, too.”

She smiled at him, wondering how it was that he could make her want to cry one minute and laugh the next. Then she pushed him onto his back and straddled him. “I haven't forgotten. One of these days, I'll get
the thing with the ribbon right. I just need a little more practice.”

He grinned up at her. “I can offer you a lifetime of practice, Princess.”

“Deal.” Leaning down, she covered his mouth with hers.