Against The Odds - Laura Drake

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are now looking at a retail adventure specialist,” Hope said.

      “Hey, congrats,” Mark said.

      “That’s the job you wanted, right?” Bina watched Hope from under one raised eyebrow.

      “Yes. I start later today. I’m manning the register to start, but I’m going to take lessons in three adventure sports, to better be able to sell the equipment.”

      “You’re not going to skydive, are you?” Bryan’s long-fingered hand splayed on his chest. “I’m terrified of heights.”

      The kid looked so aghast, Bear couldn’t help it—he chuckled.

      Bryan shot him a glare.

      “No way. I’m looking for adventure, not terror.” Her fond smile, aimed Bryan’s way, pinched Bear. “No, I think I’m going to start with surfing. It looks so... I don’t know, freeing. You’re riding a force of nature, harnessing the power for your own happiness. You’ve got to feel free then, wouldn’t you think?”

      The longing made her face glow. It pulled words out of him. “That’s what it feels like, when I’m on my bike.”

      Bina jumped in, fast. “How so?”

      “Well, you’re not harnessing nature, but you’re out in it—almost a part of it. You smell what’s in the wind, feel the flow of the land underneath you. The changes in temperature, the weather. It affects you in ways there aren’t words for. You can only feel it.”

      “It sounds amazing.” When Hope turned that fond smile on him, it warmed him. Or maybe it was embarrassment. Or both. He ducked his head. “It is.”

      “Tell us something else about you, Bear.” Bina’s voice was soft, but it poked him.

      “I have a business, doing custom paint jobs, out of my barn.”

      “Cool,” Mark said. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

      “My dad had a repair shop when I was growing up. He hated painting. Turned out, I liked it. So I took over that part.” He checked the clock on the wall over the door. Five more minutes. Surely he could keep this up that long. Surely Hope would consider this “sharing.”

      “Why did you join the army, Bear?” Bina only sounded innocent.

      He shrugged. “Those people brought their shit to my country. Thought I’d give a little of it back.”

      “Wooah,” Mark said.

      “Amen, brother.”

      Bryan rolled his eyes.

      “I understand you were a ranger.” Bina consulted her little notebook. “A sniper, is that right?”

      He ground his teeth. She couldn’t lead him anywhere he didn’t want to go. He glanced at Hope. She nodded, encouraging him. How had he walked into this ambush?

      Bryan’s strident voice broke the silence. “What I’d like to know is why he was in prison.”

      THE LIGHT LEFT Hope’s face. Along with most of the color. “Prison?”

      Brenda, the soap opera queen flinched.

      Mark leaned back in his chair. “Dude.”

      So much for not sharing. Outed by a gay guy—the ultimate irony. Son of a bitch. Noticing his clenched fists, Bear forced his hands to relax. His temper would do more than cost him a customer, here.

      “You don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to, Bear,” Bina said.

      “Oh, yeah. It’s kinda the pit bull in the room now. Thanks a lot, asshole.”

      The little pissant sat arms crossed, as if owed an explanation.

      Bear chewed his lip, trying to figure how to make a steaming turd smell like room freshener. He glanced again at the clock. In four minutes. It was impossible. He almost heard his chances ticking away. “A guy gave me crap about being a soldier. I punched him. He hit his head on the way down. It was an accident, okay? A freaking, stupid, accident.”

      “What were you charged with? How much time did you do?” Mark asked.

      He looked to Bina, but she just nodded encouragement.

      Fuck. This is never going to end. He’d have blown them off, if not for the fact that Hope was hanging on every word, looking as though she wanted to believe the best. “Involuntary manslaughter. Ten months.” He ground the words between his jaws and spit them out.

      “The guy died?” Bryan’s mouth was an O of horror.

      Let that be a lesson unto you, asshole. He forced his fists to relax. Again. “Hence the prison term.” If sarcasm could slice, this guy would look like a teen in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre.

      Bina must have sensed his potential for eruption. “I think we’ll leave it there for today.” She stood. “Good session. I’ll see you all back here on Wednesday.”

      Bear would have caught Bryan outside for a meeting of minds, but it turned out weasels could move—he scuttled away, fast. That was probably for the best. The kid was just a distraction anyway. What Bear really wanted was to talk to his angel. He waited outside the classroom, while Hope lingered inside, talking to Bina.

      They walked out together. Two pairs of eyebrows went up when they saw him.

      “Hope, can I talk to you for a second?” He waited, dangling at the end of his last chance.

      She shot a look at Bina, then back at him.

      He held out his hands, palms up, trying to look unimposing. “I just have a question to ask. I promise I won’t keep you long.”

      Hope glanced around. The classroom was in the basement of the hospital. The halls were deserted.

      Bina locked the door. “The cafeteria is on the ground floor to the right of the elevators, if you two would like to get a cup of coffee.”

      Bina’s comment seemed to shatter Hope’s indecision. She checked her phone for the time. “I have a half hour before I need to get to work.”

      He let out the breath he’d been holding. “That’s great.”

      As Bina brushed by him, he could swear she winked, but since he only saw her profile, it was impossible to tell for sure.

      The cafeteria was prelunch busy. He bought them coffee, and they sat at a small round table near floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on a sloping landscaped courtyard. Hope stirred her coffee, waiting for him to say whatever he had to say.

      If only he knew what that was. He wasn’t even sure why he needed to talk to her so desperately. Maybe in talking, he’d hear the answer. He took a sip of coffee he didn’t want, then set the cup down. “This is going to sound crazy, and given what you just learned about me. See, the thing is...” He focused on her eyes. They reminded him of the lapping waters of the Caribbean: soothing, yet incessantly restless at the same time. And like those waters, they calmed him. “Have you ever felt that a stranger held the answers to all of your questions?”

      Her head tilt held curiosity and concern at the same time.

      “I know that sounds bizarre. I swear to you, I’m not a stalker. I don’t want anything from you. I just had the oddest feeling when I met you.” The past hour’s tightrope walk had worn on his nerves. Now, when he needed words more than ever, he was spewing nonsense. He looked down at his coffee cup. He lifted and set it down in precise one-quarter turns. “Oh, never mind. I’m sorry to have—”

      “I believe you.”

      He looked up at her soft words.

      “I don’t really understand what you’re

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