Authors: Mackenzie Crowne
“Because she’d rather put herself in danger than make a statement to the press.”
All signs of humor vanished and he sat up straight. “Shit. What’d she do?”
Jake explained about her nighttime walk through the woods. Max grumbled beneath his breath about stubborn women, obviously no happier hearing about what she’d done after the fact than Jake had been at the time.
Jamming his fingers through his hair, Jake sighed. “She’s barely left the farm in two months and when she does, she sneaks out through the back gate. She thinks she’ll be able to outlast the interest of the press, but she’s wrong. The girls will still be my sisters at the end of the month. Nosey reporters are an unfortunate side effect of my career choice. They may leave her alone once I’m gone, but every time I show up at the farm, she’ll have to worry about their renewed interest. Does she plan to continue sneaking around indefinitely?”
Max tapped the pen against the blotter on his desk. “Sounds like you don’t plan on winning the custody battle. From what Gracie says, the girls are completely dazzled by their big brother. You don’t think they’ll choose you?”
“She said that?” Dazzled by him? Inordinately pleased by the idea, a surprising warmth coursed through him. He tugged at the denim covering one leg and crossed his booted foot over the opposite knee.
The pen stilled in Max’s fingers. “On more than one occasion.”
Jake chuckled. “Huh. I hadn’t ever considered the idea. They belong with Gracie. I never planned on taking custody.”
“Does
she
know that?”
Guilt burned in his belly. He cleared his throat. “Not yet. You going to tell her?”
Max sat back. “I should. I don’t think you realize how important winning custody of the girls is to her.”
“I know she loves them.”
Max waved a hand. “Goes without saying, but beyond fulfilling her promise to her sister, Sarah, she’s always dreamed of having a family of her own. She believes the girls are her last chance at achieving her dream.”
“Last chance?” His brows slammed together with his scoffing snort. “What is she, twenty-five? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Twenty-six, and she obviously hasn’t told you about her childhood.”
“She’s told me some. I know her mom died when she was fourteen and her sister raised her from then on. Until she died, too.”
Max nodded. “Gracie shut down after that, stopped going out, except with me, and only when I forced the issue. She also quit dating. She’s never had a lot of trust where men are concerned. Her mother’s warped view on the subject did a job on her when Gracie was too young to understand the concept of bitterness.” He sighed and shook his head. “Anyway, the girls and I are one thing. We’re already in her life and her heart, but she no longer lets anyone new in because losing anyone else is unacceptable. Hence, no romantic relationships. Custody of the girls will allow her to have the family she desperately wants without risking her heart to further loss or rejection.”
“And yet she’s entered into a romantic relationship with me.”
“Yes, she has. Interesting, isn’t it?”
Max tossed up a brow, but Jake wasn’t touching that one with a ten-foot pole. “She didn’t mention her father.”
Max grinned briefly then sobered. “Nor will she.”
“Why not?”
“If I told you, I’d be betraying her trust.” Max studied him silently for a long moment. “Let’s just say, she has daddy issues.”
Jake arched a brow. “And these daddy issues are at the root of her secret?”
“I didn’t say that. Not outright, anyway.”
No, he hadn’t, but his smile said Jake’s conclusion was dead-on. “You didn’t have to. If her father isn’t the problem, why bring him up? I know when I’m being led.”
Max shrugged, and his smile slid into smug.
“So, what’s the deal? Who’s her father and what does he have to do with her fear of the press?”
Max slowly stroked his fingers and thumb over his chin. “That, I definitely can’t say.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
“Both. I love Gracie. I may not always agree with her thought processes, but she’s
my
family.”
“And?”
“And, if you want more details on her
daddy issues
, you’re going to have to ask her.”
He slapped his hat against his knee. “Right. She snaps shut like a clam whenever I ask her what’s wrong.”
“Then look somewhere else.”
“Why do you think I’m here?”
Max arched a brow and didn’t say another word.
Jake sighed. “You’re as bad as Gracie. Any suggestions on where I should start?”
Max grinned. “Why don’t you start by asking how and more importantly, why, a female computer geek becomes a rabid football fan?”
Gracie peeked through the curtain with a scowl. God, would they never give up? Over two months had passed since the reading of Pete’s will and, if not for the sporadic reappearance of the stubborn vultures at the gate, she’d be happier than she could ever remember being.
Sure, doubt occasionally crept in to steal her contentment, but her leap of faith was one of the sweetest decisions she’d ever made. The pure bliss of being Jake’s lover aside, those lingering moments of reservation couldn’t compete with the sheer joy of living like a family with him and the girls. Her temporary family even included extended members, thanks to Max’s frequent visits and the poker jocks’ staggered drop-ins—which always seemed to occur right around dinnertime. A leaf had been added to the kitchen table, along with several chairs. But for those days when Jake and the jocks were out of town for a game, one or more of the extra chairs were filled more often than not.
The image of her dream family hadn’t included an overprotective best friend and bodyguard, half the Marauders’ offensive line, or a bossy publicist, but Gracie couldn’t complain. Laughter and happiness echoed off the walls of the old farmhouse and contentment swelled in her heart.
V had made no mention of the change in her and Jake’s relationship, but as observant as his agent was, she must have noticed. Jake wasn’t exactly circumspect, flirting mercilessly and never passing up the opportunity to touch her. Unless the twins were present. Whenever they were around, he behaved like a perfect gentleman. She couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or bad.
Then there was Tuck’s apparent inability to take no for an answer. His declaration of love at first sight was flattering, and his bold invitations to slip away with him for a weekend of debauchery made her laugh, especially since he was full of crap. And, she had to admit, Jake’s dark scowl, every time he learned his friend had been by the farm to see her, was thrilling, until Max explained the truth behind Tuck’s claims of undying love.
Max found the whole thing hilarious. She, not so much. Imagine, a friendly competition to steal a woman away from someone you called a friend, simply to prove you could. Men were pigs. She should’ve accepted Tuck’s diamond tennis bracelet then dumped him on his ass.
She should be furious to find herself an unwitting player in their sexist game and was, partly, but in those moments she and Jake managed to steal away, Tuck and the faceless women he and Jake had fought over through the years vanished. That suited her fine, considering the temporary nature of their romance. She’d taken the leap of faith Max insisted on, with thrilling results, but he was delusional if he thought what she and Jake had would last beyond the twelve weeks they’d been given.
Pete’s custody stipulations set up a scenario allowing them to play house for a time, but Jake didn’t believe in forever any more than she did. The time was fast approaching when play time would end.
She dropped the curtain and stomped from the window. She should be on top of the world. Instead, she was ready to rip her hair out. Sneaking around like a criminal when she hadn’t done a thing wrong rankled, and she was sick of it. No matter how the custody situation turned out, she and Jake would always have a connection through the girls. V was right, one way or another, either now or later, she’d have to face the press. Until she did, she’d be a prisoner of her own cowardice.
To hell with that. Sharing her story without revealing her secrets would be a challenge, but not impossible. Looking at the situation logically, there were things she could do to lessen, if not eliminate, the possibility of anyone connecting her to her father. The idea of standing before the press made her stomach revolt. She’d do it, however, to reclaim her freedom, but not today. The only thing she’d be claiming today was a certain, hunky tight end.
Thanks to the Marauders’ road schedule, and a Thursday night game, Jake had been gone for close to a week. When they spoke last night, he sounded tired but exuberant over the team’s latest victory. His single end zone dance of the night hadn’t clenched the record, but his thrilling one-handed touchdown catch brought him within two of the stat he so badly desired. They needed to celebrate, and she planned to make good use of the empty house.
The rumble of his SUV coming up the drive sent her heart skittering. A quick click to save the data on her computer screen and she flew out into the hallway and down the stairs. Murphy raced at her heels, yipping with excitement. She skidded to a halt at the front door. Shifting her shoulders, a side-to-side toss of her head cracked her neck and settled her jumping nerves. Three deep breaths settled them further. Her hands shook but she didn’t care. She threw open the door.
Jake wore a huge grin as he strode up the walkway and vaulted up the steps. His duffle bag hit the planks of the porch with a thud. She squeaked in surprise when he grabbed her waist. He lifted her off her feet and tucked her close. She moaned as his mouth claimed hers and her toes curled in her boots. Hot damn! Every woman should be greeted with an utterly ravenous kiss at least once in her life.
She’d told herself she hadn’t fallen for him completely, and maybe she’d been right, but in the end it didn’t matter. The dizzying roll of her heart signaled its disastrous fall. Her world shifted seamlessly into a new dimension, and though she’d surely regret this moment later, she plunged her fingers into his hair, wrapped her legs around his waist, and embraced the inevitable—and the madness.
Dappled sunlight skittered across her closed eyelids. Her head spun as his mouth devoured hers. Greedy, she met and returned his urgency, nipping and sucking, her tongue doing sensual battle with his. She clung to him, pressing her breasts to his chest in an attempt to assuage the pleasure/pain of her violently peaked nipples. He growled into her mouth and ran his hand along the back of her thigh, bare beneath her skirt, until his fingers closed around one silk-covered cheek and squeezed.
Moist heat pooled between her thighs and she arched against him. He grunted, stepped inside the house, and slammed the door shut with the aid of a well-placed kick. She absorbed the shock of her back and ass slamming up against the hard wooden surface of the door and mourned the loss when his mouth left hers. Opening her eyes, she met the emerald fire burning in his.
The shadow of a single dimple appeared with his lopsided smile. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” Was that her voice, all breathy and low? Geez. She could do voiceovers for old Marilyn Monroe movies.
“Are the girls here?” He shoved Murphy’s head aside when the dog attempted to squeeze between them.
“It’s Friday morning. They’re in school.”
His nostrils flared with his deep inhale. He dipped his head to rest his forehead against hers. “Mary?”
She had to take a bracing breath. “She went to visit her sister in Connecticut and do some last minute Christmas shopping. She’ll be back by six.”
He straightened immediately and surprise lit his eyes. “The house is empty?”
She nodded. “Empty except for you and me.” The dog whined happily at their feet. She grinned. “And Murphy.”
Jake groaned and his eyes slid shut.
Huh? Considering his heated greeting and the solid steel erection prodding her through his jeans, why was he groaning? And why had he stopped?
Unease slithered down her spine. “Jake?”
“Give me a moment, will you?”
To do what? They had the house to themselves, an opportunity that came along rarely. Why wasn’t he kissing her senseless and carrying her upstairs at a run? “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” His chest expanded on a rumbling sigh. “I’m trying to slow things down.”
“Why?”
He opened his eyes and his lips twisted in a guilty grimace. “I barely said hello before I stuck my tongue down your throat. You’ve already accused me of having a one-track mind. I don’t want you adding horny bastard to the complaint.”
Relief loosened her muscles, and she relaxed in his arms. He tightened his hold.
She cocked her head and studied him. “
Aren’t
you a horny bastard with a one-track mind?”
His grimace slid into a wide smile. “Pretty much.”
“Thought so.”
“Oh, really?”
She giggled and shimmied her hips, pleased when his pupils dilated. “Is that a goalpost in your pocket, Malone, or are you happy to see me?” She yelped when he swatted her ass and headed for the stairs. “Ouch. That hurt.”
“Serves you right, smart ass. I was trying to be a gentleman.” His long legs took the steps two at a time.
“Well, don’t strain yourself. I happen to have changed my opinion on your one-track mind.”
“You have, have you?” He grinned, passing by the door to her bedroom to enter the master suite.
“I’ve decided horny bastards have their uses.” She laughed and twisted a finger in his silky hair. “By the way, you forgot your bag on the porch.”
“Shit.” He stopped short beside the bed.
She fluttered her lashes and grinned.
“Fuck it. I’ll get it later. His teeth flashed in a wicked smile. Mischief danced in his sparkling eyes, warning her of what was coming. She let herself fall when he opened his arms at the edge of his bed and wasn’t surprised when he landed on top of her a
moment later. The blood rushed from her head, thanks to his single-minded attention to her mouth, and raced to the apex of her thighs when he switched the focus of his talented mouth to her straining breasts.