Authors: Mackenzie Crowne
Gracie smiled and bumped her chin toward the deep woods beyond the barn. “Tuck, why don’t you take CC for a stroll while we wait for Jake to finish the steaks?”
His lips curled in a lazy smile. “Sounds like a great idea.”
CC’s gaze skittered to the dense line of foliage fencing the lawn. Unbidden, murky memories of dim light and thick and twisted old-growth trees crept into her mind. She fought off a shiver. The sinister reflections from three hellish days so long ago had kept her from venturing into the woods ever since. She wasn’t interested in doing so now. “Oh, no. That’s okay.”
Gracie cocked her head. “Are you sure? There’s a very pretty spring along the path. It’s not far. Only about a three minute walk.” She shot Tuck a teasing grin. “Even you should be able to stay out of trouble for that short a time.”
His lips quirked in a smirk.
The breath backed up in CC’s throat. Three minutes might as well be three days. The idea of entering a place where nightmares lived had bony fingers of dread closing around her windpipe. She met Tuck’s laughing gaze. If she leaped into his arms and demanded he kiss her and restore her breath, she’d only look like a lunatic. She was on her own.
Sucking in a ragged breath, she clung to his calming presence and spoke as evenly as possible. “If you believe that, you don’t know him as well as you think.”
Gracie’s delighted bark of laughter did the job of knocking back the looming attack, as did her feminine arm flung around CC’s shoulders.
“Oh, CC. You and I are going to be great friends.”
Her shoulder received a gentle squeeze, and then Gracie spun toward the house with Murphy at her heels. CC frowned as she disappeared inside. Great friends? Obviously Tuck hadn’t told her everything about their…hmmm. What did one call a short-term deal that might or might not include sex? Relationship wasn’t quite right. Neither was dating, really.
Though tempted, she didn’t bother following to explain. What was the point? In three weeks, she’d see neither Gracie
nor
Tuck again. CC blamed her sudden sadness on the knowledge Gracie Malone was the type of woman she’d like for a friend.
“What’s wrong?”
She turned. Tuck watched her with a focused intensity that heated her cheeks. Walter bumped against her thigh, and she grabbed at the distraction.
She bent to scrub at his neck. “Nothing.”
“You’re a sucky liar, sunshine. Something spooked you. Something to do with walking in the woods. What’s going on?”
Well, crap. So much for believing him knowing her secret would make things simpler. Nothing was simple when it came to Tuck. Sure, he was a rascal, but he was a kind rascal who cared deeply about the people around him. He was also generous and naturally intuitive. Hadn’t he recognized the onset of her attack that first day and stepped in to fix it? Of course he’d notice something was wrong, but their deal to test her dating theory was never meant to include a peek into her nightmares. Damn Curt and his phone messages.
“CC?”
She lied through her teeth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His sigh was full of disappointment. “Okay, if that’s the way you want it, but I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.” He shook his head when she didn’t reply. “You and Gracie were huddled together like thieves. What were you talking about?”
Relief loosened her tensed muscles, and she dredged up a smile. “None of your business.”
He arched a brow, but the beginnings of a smile tweaked his lips.
“She’s…something else.”
His chuckle held wry affection. “You have no idea.”
“I’m not sure why, but I think I like her.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
She shrugged. “Not bad, just disappointing.”
“Disappointing how?”
“I suffer from panic attacks, remember? That type of thing tends to make a person keep to herself.” At his questioning look, she sighed. “I don’t make friends easily.”
“You seemed to be doing well enough a minute ago. Besides, isn’t that one of the objectives of your dating theory test? To allow you to be more socially active?”
“Yes, but…”
“But what?”
“Our bargain is for three weeks. Breakups normally cause people to choose sides, and she’s your friend.” She flicked her head, indicating his friends and their dates gathered around Jake and the Waldens. “These people are
your
friends.”
He laughed, making her frown. “When you’ve gotten to know them better, you’ll understand the word
normal
doesn’t apply with this crowd.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Anyway, we won’t be breaking up when the three weeks are done. We’ll be bringing our friendly bargain to an end. You have a tendency to overthink things, don’t you?”
“I’m a realist.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts.
Another squeeze. Tighter this time. “You’re a worrier, but I promised to introduce you to the concept of fun. I plan to do just that, starting tomorrow, if you’re free.”
Her heartbeat accelerated as she visualized several decidedly naughty scenarios. Sultry images of what
he’d
consider fun. Heat flamed in her chest, then climbed upward to spread across her cheeks. His bark of laughter made things worse.
Mischief twinkled in his eyes as he cocked his head to study her. “For a virgin, you sure do have a dirty mind.”
“Shh!” A quick glance proved no one but she was aware of his teasing. She turned back with a scowl, then crossed her arms in an effort to cover the tingling pucker of her nipples. Oh, yeah. Kevin Tucker was a lust-dealing demon.
His hearty laugh slowed to a chuckle, and he brushed a thumb over her cheek. “You can relax. I have something completely innocent in mind.” Dimples popped in his wicked grin. “For now.”
Chapter 11
Bent over her workbench, CC struggled to shove aside the pair of smiling blue eyes that kept popping into her mind. Tuck had promised to introduce her to the concept of fun, and if she’d learned anything over the last five days, it was that he kept his word.
Decked out in his usual disguise of hat and dark glasses, he’d arrived at her condo the evening after the Malones’ barbeque and made good on his promise. With her hand in his, CC followed along as they worked their way through the crowd to stake out a spot on the lawn to enjoy the night’s offering at Bryant Park’s Film Festival. Sprawled on a soft blanket, she curled to his side as they nibbled popcorn and watched Bogey and Hepburn outwit the bad guys to find unlikely love on a tangled East African river.
Early the following morning, Tuck had tugged her up the famous steps of The Metropolitan Museum two minutes before the doors opened. He’d insisted they begin their tour with the Egyptian exhibit, his favorite he claimed. His hand rode the small of her back as they explored the many rooms. In the low light of the Tomb Chapel of Raemkai, he had pulled her into a dark alcove and snuck a kiss.
Two days later, at the rail of the East River Ferry, he stood at her back with his arms encircling her waist on the ten-minute ride to Long Island City. The afternoon drifted by as they strolled the center path of the waterfront flea market, stopping at booths and gobbling down sweets. She laughed, utterly charmed when he presented her with matching sun visors covered in gaudy flowers. One for her, the other for Walter.
That wasn’t to say Tuck had backed off from his sensual agenda. Like the player he was, he was a pro at smoldering looks and sexy innuendos.
He kept after her constantly, and his campaign was showing signs of success. A tempting brush of his fingers along the sensitive skin at the back of her neck or a friendly arm tossed over her shoulders, it didn’t matter. Her traitorous body clamored for more, no matter how strenuously her mind objected.
On Friday, he’d arrived at her condo with a loaded pizza and a six-pack of beer to help her celebrate the end of Walter’s obedience lessons. She’d laughed as he’d presented her dog with a battered pair of his athletic shoes as a reward for a job well done. Although Walter hadn’t come anywhere near graduating at the top of his class, he’d shown some marked improvement. With a little bit of patience and some consistency, Bridgette, the perky dog trainer, proclaimed he could be the model pet.
CC wasn’t holding her breath. In fact, it came out in a snarl as he tore through her studio, his back feet slipping out from beneath him on the hardwood floor. He slammed into the wall but didn’t seem deterred in his goal. Whatever that was. He was up and running like a shot, a trail of unraveled toilet paper flapping behind him.
“Geez, Walter. What the hell?” He took off, bolting for the hallway and the upstairs landing as if Animal Control was on his scent. After rising from her workbench, she gathered up the wasted paper and shoved it into the trash. She didn’t have a clue how he’d managed to dig the roll out from under the bathroom sink and didn’t want to know.
Flexing her fingers, she returned to her stool and the piece she was working on. It had been days since she’d had the opportunity to sculpt, and she was quickly absorbed. Afternoon sunlight had reached the high windows to dance on the hardwood floor when she finally blinked her way out of her creative fog.
She stretched her back, and her gaze skittered past the finished sculpture to fall on her cell phone. Her mother had called twice over the past couple of days, but with Tuck present both times, she’d been reluctant to answer. Inevitably, the conversation would turn to Curt, and while Tuck hadn’t brought up her father since that one time in the batting cage, it was obvious he was curious.
Walter’s nails clicked on the hardwood as he trotted over to present her with a peace offering. She plucked the slimy cardboard tube from his mouth and held it gingerly between her fingertip and thumb. “Thank you, Walter. That’s disgusting.”
The nub of his tale jerked back and forth like a metronome on crack.
She stretched to the side to drop his drool-soaked offering in the trash can and almost tumbled off the stool when her mother’s ringtone made her jump. Righting herself, she stared at the phone. A shiver raced down her spine. Typical of her mother to call at the exact moment CC was thinking of her.
She frowned at Walter. “How does she
do
that?” He danced from foot to foot and barked, making her smile. She thumbed the phone’s screen. “Hi, Mom.”
“CC, baby!” Her mother’s smile came through in her chipper greeting. “I just had to call and find out what’s happened.”
Uh-oh. “I’m…not sure what you mean.”
“I dreamed about you last night.”
The fission of apprehension expanded to a healthy dose of alarm. Her mother took her dreams seriously, despite the fact they never made a lick of sense to anyone else.
“Mom. I’m in the middle of a project. Can we—”
“You were dancing at your wedding. On a sawdust covered floor.”
Oh, shit. If she says my bridesmaids wore cinnamon, I’m going to throw up.
“Sawdust! Isn’t that peculiar?”
“Mom, I’m working.”
“Anyway, I’ve consulted the charts.”
Oh, goodie. She sagged on her stool.
“There are two potential possibilities. Oh, it gives me goose bumps even now.” Excitement vibrated in her mother’s thoughtful hum. “Listen to this. According to most of the experts, sawdust in a dream signifies the need to heal an emotional wound that’s recently been opened.”
She popped straight on her chair. Okay, yeah. That
was
peculiar, considering what she’d been up to all week.
“It’s a sign,” her mother insisted.
She dropped her head to her bench….
“I spoke to your father this morning. He said he left you a second message.”
…and thumped her forehead against the surface.
“You have to speak to him, baby. It’s fate.”
She rolled upward and straightened. “No. It was a dream, Mom, and your interpretation. What was the other possibility, by the way?”
Her mother hesitated several seconds before giving her answer. “It said something about a fatal mistake looming.”
Bingo. “That sounds like the more likely scenario when it comes to Curt, don’t you think?”
A sigh blew through the phone’s speaker. “CC.”
“I’m fine. Kris is fine. Walter’s fine. I’m hanging up now, Mom.”
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too.”
She tossed the phone to the bench and squeezed the bridge of her nose, then yelped when the phone immediately rang again. Dropping her hand to her lap, she glared at the screen. The glare fizzled as surely as the nervous excitement in her stomach as Tuck’s picture appeared. Though she’d given him her number when he asked, this was the first time he’d actually called.
She hesitated. A second ring taunted her, and she mumbled under her breath. “Don’t answer, CC. Don’t do it. A Tuck-free afternoon will do your willpower a world of good.” Curling her fingers into her palm, she scrunched her eyes shut. A third chime sounded, and she squinted with one eye. “Damn it.” She snatched up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi-ya, sunshine. Whatcha doing?”
“I
was
working, but the phone keeps ringing.”
His chuckle caressed her ear like stroking fingers. “Don’t you hate when that happens?”
She grinned but offered him a snort. “Some people have no respect for work hours.”
“Bastards.”
The laugh gurgled up and out before she could stop it.
“How long have you been at it?”
She slumped until her elbows were propped on her bench. “About four hours.”
He clucked his tongue. “Poor baby. Want me to talk to your boss? She sounds like a slave driver.”
“She
can
be.”
“She probably wouldn’t let you take a few hours off to help out a friend then.”
She smiled at his wheedling tone. “Probably not.”
“Sounds mean.”
“Oh, she can be a real bitch.”
“A bitch, huh?” He was silent for several seconds, and then he dropped his tone to a croon. “What’s she wearing?”
She didn’t bother fighting the laugh this time. “Pervert.”