Authors: Mackenzie Crowne
Twenty-four hours later, Gracie’s feet dragged as she climbed the stairs to prepare the girls for bed. If these first few days were any indication, she’d be a raving lunatic by the end of the three months. Hell, by the end of next week! No one could ever accuse Gracie of being weak, physically or emotionally. Losing nearly everyone you loved either broke you or made you tough. The events of her teenage years had forged a strong backbone and an ability to adapt. The problem was, her willpower had never been tested the way it had the last couple of days. Max, the jerk, was right. She was toast when it came to Jake.
If only she hadn’t attempted to teach him a lesson, then they wouldn’t have shared that kiss. That completely stupid, completely…
wonderful
kiss. The shared memory simmered in Jake’s eyes when they met hers across the dinner table earlier this evening, and the accompanying heat in those green orbs nearly seared her soul.
Ugh! She was an idiot. Give a man like him an inch and …
Right. Like their heated clutch was all his fault. She’d been right there with him, gleefully embracing the opportunity to taste what she’d only dreamt of in numerous fantasies. One taste would never be enough, but sipping from that well again was out of the question. Lusting after her unwanted housemate was one thing, acting on the lust was another matter altogether.
Max insisted she’d already lost her heart to Jake. She disagreed, but she wasn’t foolish enough to believe her heart wasn’t dangerously vulnerable where he was concerned. She’d been helplessly fascinated with him from the moment she first learned of his existence. Meeting him in person only intensified the fascination. The leap from fascination to love would be a short, disastrous one.
At the end of Pete’s time frame, one of them would lose. If the loser ended up being her, she’d at least like to walk away with her heart intact. She scowled and climbed to the second floor.
It simply wasn’t fair. Jake Malone emitted some kind of secret pheromone, slaying females without working up a sweat. His presence threatened both her custody hopes
and
her peace of mind, but did the invisible forces knocking her well-ordered life off its axis care? Hell no. If they did, Pete’s son wouldn’t have been a sexy hunk and famous athlete with a killer smile and the body of a god. He’d have been a short, rotund,
toothless
accountant from Hoboken.
She reached the top of the stairs and shuffled down the hall toward the nursery, where Charlie had dragged Jake several minutes earlier. The truth was, beyond her helpless fascination with the man, watching him work to connect with the twins depressed the hell out of her. First, because his efforts were working. Charlie had already fallen under his spell. From her giddy reaction whenever he spoke to her, she was in the grips of full-blown Mr. Irresistible worship, and she wasn’t the only one. Mary was a goner, too, fussing over him as if he were the crown prince of Long Island or something, and despite Angel’s continued sullenness, it would only be a matter of time before she caved.
The man might not know much about little girls, but he was a frigging quick study—and clearly, he wasn’t afraid to use bribery. After yesterday’s minor altercation with Angel, he’d stepped up his game. Gracie had no idea how he’d discovered Angel was horse crazy, but his sources had skills. He couldn’t have used a better carrot to dangle before his reluctant half sister than to mention he’d be bringing his prized horse to the farm. Though Angel tried to hide her reaction, dipping her head to poke at her dinner with her fork, there was no missing her desperate flush of pleasure at the idea.
Gracie ground her teeth. Damn it. How was she supposed to compete with a stallion named Hercules? Maybe she could find a unicorn for sale on eBay.
Jake’s charm and seeming success at winning the girls over wasn’t her only problem. Since reading her mother’s diary and learning her father’s name, she’d been beyond curious about the man who’d fathered her, becoming a football junkie in an effort to feel close. Yet she froze in terror at the thought of making contact with him. Jake, on the other hand, faced a similar scenario by waging a single-minded campaign, determined to make the best of a situation he’d neither expected nor wanted.
She tried not to envy his confidence as he did his best to befriend the twins, but his focused effort made her feel like a coward in comparison. How she wished she could simply forget about the man who fathered her. He was out of reach. End of story. But thanks to this situation with Jake, shame and envy prodded her, and Max’s comment in the gym kept taunting her.
That makes you family, too.
Ha! As if sharing a person’s DNA automatically made you family. Jake’s unexpected arrival as the girls’ family caused plenty of upheaval, but at least he’d been invited. No, springing herself on her father was a bad idea. She already had enough turmoil in her life. She’d simply have to get used to feeling like a coward.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. The one meeting her eyes when she stopped in the nursery doorway spoke volumes.
Murphy lifted his head, his tail thumping against the mattress, where he lay sprawled beside Angel on one of the matching bedspreads. On the opposite side of the room, Jake dwarfed the oversized chair where Sarah had fed her infant daughters. His bulk left barely enough room for the slight form of Charlie to squeeze in beside him, their dark heads dipped in concentration over the book in his hands.
As though sensing Gracie’s arrival, he glanced up. His gaze clashed with hers, and his widened eyes held a desperate appeal for help. Okay, his confidence wobbled here and there, but that only made his efforts more admirable. Her insides went mushy on a soft wave of sympathy, and her depression deepened. For crying out loud, going soft over his vulnerability with the twins would shoot her straight toward that disastrous leap if she wasn’t careful.
She heaved a relieved sigh when Charlie flipped back a page and spoke, regaining his attention.
“You skipped a part. See?”
He looked away, down at the book.
Charlie tapped her finger to the page. “Right here. The princess smiled and her dragon scales shimmered with happiness.” She twisted her neck to grin up at him. “The princess has a secret. She’s a dragon lady, but the prince doesn’t know it yet.”
He tucked his chin to his chest, staring at her. “How do you know what it says?”
Angel looked up from her coloring book. Rolling onto her side, she sneered across the room. “She’s in the first grade. She knows how to read.” She flopped back to her stomach, grumbling, “Even a dummy knows that.”
Charlie’s eyes bugged wide. She peeked at Jake before shooting a warning frown at her sister.
“Angel!” Gracie stepped through the doorway, as concerned at the heated animosity in Angel’s eyes as she was surprised to see color spread on Jake’s high cheekbones. “Apologize to Jake, young lady.”
“I don’t need an apology.”
“She needs to offer one.” She stiffened and turned. Her intent gaze locked on his, silently demanding he not contradict her. After a moment, he dipped his head in a slight nod. The breath she’d been holding came out in a sigh. She turned to Angel. “Sarah and Pete taught you better than to speak to
anyone
like that.”
Angel paled at the mention of her parents. Gracie flinched at the tears popping into her niece’s eyes before she ducked her head once more. Wanting nothing more than to race over the wide plank floor and wipe the starkness from Angel’s eyes, Gracie remained where she was. Enough was enough. They had to find a way to live together civilly.
“Angel?” She prompted softly.
“I’m sorry,” Angel muttered without looking up. She pretended to color, though the crayon in her hand never touched the page.
Gracie cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind, Jake, the girls need baths before they go to bed.”
Beside a watchful Jake, Charlie’s lips puckered in a stubborn pout. “But we didn’t have our snack yet.”
“Okay, you can go downstairs, but don’t be too long. Fifteen minutes, tops.”
“How many
Spongebobs
is fifteen minutes?”
Jake’s brow wrinkled comically, and Gracie squelched a smile. He had a lot to learn, including the intricacies of a six year old’s time clock. “Fifteen minutes is half of one
SpongeBob
.”
Charlie nodded and bolted from the chair to race toward the door.
“Maybe Jake wants a snack,” Gracie called after her.
Charlie’s sneakers squeaked on the hardwood when she skidded to a stop and spun around. “Do you want a snack, Jake?”
Gracie lifted a brow at him, hoping he’d take the hint and give her some time with Angel, who pretended to ignore them all.
He closed the book and stood. “What kind of snack?”
Charlie fiddled with the hem of her sweatshirt. She shot a glance at Angel and a worried crease marred her brow. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “Miss Mary likes us to have fruit, but Angel and I prefer ice cream.”
He cleared his throat. From the way his lips twitched, he was fighting a smile. “I prefer ice cream, too. It’s my favorite.” He winked. “Especially when you add a few chocolate chip cookies.”
Charlie beamed a smile and rushed forward to grab his hand. She blinked up at Gracie. “Can Angel have a snack, too?”
“I’ll see to Angel. You go on and have yours.”
“She didn’t mean to be bad.”
Gracie’s heart squeezed at the worry in her eyes. She ruffled her hair. “I know she didn’t.”
Charlie nodded. Satisfied her twin would be okay, she tugged at Jake’s hand.
Regret flickered in the glance he sent in Angel’s direction, and butterflies fluttered in Gracie’s stomach. He might claim to know nothing about little girls, but he wasn’t a complete novice at understanding human nature. Or maybe
feminine
nature was what he understood. He let Charlie lead him from the room. Murphy bounded from the bed to trot after them.
Their footfalls quieted as they descended the stairs. Sighing, Gracie crossed the room and eased down to lie next to Angel. The crayon suddenly skidded across the page of her coloring book, leaving a streak of blue behind.
Gracie bumped Angel’s shoulder with hers. “So, you mad at me?”
Inky curls danced when Angel shook her head.
“But you
are
mad at Jake?”
Tiny shoulders shrugged and, though she kept her face averted, there was no hiding the teardrop splashing onto the page. Gracie’s eyes stung. She wrapped an arm around Angel’s shoulders and tucked her tight.
Crayon abandoned, Angel turned and burrowed closer, darting her skinny arms around Gracie’s neck. She held on as if her world were spinning out of control. Her small body jerked once, twice, and the dam broke. Wrenching sobs wracked her tiny frame, reminding Gracie of the days and weeks after she lost her own mother.
Sarah had been there to soothe the worst of
her
fears, all those years ago. Life had come full circle. Losing her own battle with tears, Gracie tightened her arms around her sister’s daughter and held on.
Angel’s storm raged for long minutes, her small body bucking in time to her pitiful sobs. When she eventually quieted to an occasional hiccup, Gracie pulled back to brush the damp curls from her cheeks.
Crystal blue orbs, still shiny with tears, met Gracie’s watchful gaze. “I’m sorry I was mean to him.”
“I know you are, baby.”
Silence stretched out. “Miss Mary says people won’t like you if you’re mean.”
“Miss Mary is right.”
Bright white baby teeth worried at Angel’s lower lip. “Do you think he’ll like me now, even though I was mean?”
“Well,” she pretended to consider the question. “I don’t know Jake well, but he seems excited to be here.”
Angel nodded in hopeful agreement.
“Maybe if you apologized again? For real, this time. If he knows you mean it…”
Angel seemed to consider the possibility and her brow furrowed on a slight frown. “He likes Charlie better.”
She fought back a smile. “Because Charlie talks to him. You’ve been awfully quiet since he got here, don’t you think? He’s your brother, Angel. Give him a chance. Once he gets to know you, he’ll like you as much as your sister.”
Angel dropped her gaze and picked at a thread on the quilt. “My belly hurts when he talks.”
“Oh, baby, why?”
“He sounds like Daddy.”
Oh
. Well, crap. The cadence of Jake’s speech
was
similar to her brother-in-law’s and, to a six-year-old’s ears, Jake’s Texas twang would resemble the southern accent Pete carried from childhood.
She brushed at the fringe of Angel’s dark bangs. “He does sound like your daddy, doesn’t he?”
Angel twirled the thread around her fingertip before glancing up. “Mommy died, and Daddy did, too. What if you die?”
“Oh, baby.” She pushed up on her forearms to stare into Angel’s tortured eyes. “I’m not going to die.”
Fresh tears popped, magnifying Angel’s crystal blue irises. Gracie hugged her close and rolled her eyes heavenward. How did one ease the fears of a child who’d already known too much loss? She rubbed a soothing hand up and down her back.
“Did you know my mother died when I was a little girl?”
Angel pulled away slightly to stare at her. “Really?”
“Really. I was fourteen. Not as young as you and Charlie, but still young. I had no daddy either. Only Sarah. We had each other. Your mommy took care of me.”
Desperate curiosity flooded Angel’s eyes as she blinked owlishly. “She did?”
“Yes, she did. When Momma died, Sarah made me a promise. She said she’d always be there to take care of me, and she was. She kept me safe, even though she was barely more than a girl herself, and I’ll be here to make sure you and Charlie are safe.”
“You promise?”
Gracie nodded.
Baby teeth flashed in Angel’s trusting smile. “Pinky promise?”
Laughter bubbled up from her chest, and she held out her pinky finger. Angel scrambled to sit. Though her nose was red and her eyes puffy from crying, relief brightened her eyes as she linked fingers with Gracie. “Do you think Charlie and Jake ate all the ice cream?”