To Win Her Trust

by Mackenzie Crowne

  “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.

  S
he 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.”

  “Hey, I’m a guy. We’re wired that way.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “What do you want, Tuck?”

  “You asked me that once before.” No trace of teasing humor remained in his voice. “Are you ready to hear the answer?”

  She swallowed. Well, she’d walked right into that one, hadn’t she? “Uh. Not really.”

  A deep sigh. “Are you up for a ride?”

  “Maybe.” She blew out a relieved breath. “Where to?”

  “Max asked me to stop by and check out a building he’s thinking of buying. Then I thought maybe we could have a late lunch.”

  The clock on the wall said one. “How long do I have before you get here?”

  “About a minute. I’m out front.”

  She slid from the stool and walked to the door. The red Jeep at the curb was comically distorted through the peephole lens. “Thanks for the advance warning.”

  He laughed. “I was in the—”

  “Neighborhood.” She spun and hurried for the stairs. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

  “Well, this time it’s the truth. You coming out or do I have to come in there and get you?”

  “Give me five minutes.”

  “Geez, women.”

  She laughed as he disconnected the call, and she took the stairs two at a time.

  * * * *

  “This place is a dump, Max.”

  CC stepped over a pile of broken cement blocks and had to agree with Tuck. The stench was so bad her eyes watered. God knew where and what kind of creature had drawn its last breath beneath one of the various piles of discarded rubble.

  Max stood in the center of the chaos, his hands on his hips and an easy smile on his face. “You should have seen the building on fifth when I bought it. Made this look like a five star.”

  “What’d this place used to be, a morgue?” Tuck’s nose wrinkled. “Damn, it’s rank in here.”

  “Pussy.” Max grimaced and offered her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, CC.”

  She batted her lashes and waved him off.

  “That stink is knocking fifteen percent off my lowball offer.”

  Tuck smirked and crossed his arms. “You really thinking of buying this rat trap?”

  “I signed the papers this morning.” Max shoved his fingers into the back pockets of his jeans and dropped his head back to study the high ceiling.

  Surprise lit Tuck’s eyes. “Well, damn. Congratulations.” He looked around with a grimace. “I think.”

  “What are you planning to do with it?” CC shook her head and attempted to breathe through her mouth.

  Arms spread wide, Max grinned. “Welcome to my new fight center and home.”

  Tuck’s mocking laugh echoed off the filthy brick walls. “What are you, some kind of masochist?”

  She rolled her eyes. “There’s lots of potential here. I think it’ll make a fine home. Don’t listen to him, Max.”

  He crossed his arms and winked. “I never do.”

  A smirk twisted Tuck’s lips as if he considered both of them nuts. She moved toward the nearest wall, and he laughed as she tripped on a rotted floorboard.

  Max stepped up beside her and rubbed long fingers over the exposed brick, then wiped the black smudge on his jeans. “It’ll need to be insulated, but I’m planning to keep as much of the natural brick as possible.”

  “A little sandblasting would get rid of the…” She leaned closer until her nose was almost pressed to the wall. “Industrial waste?”

  Laughing, Tuck hopped over the twisted floorboard to join them. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, buddy.”

  “That’s why I called you.”

  Tuck held up both hands. “Don’t look at me. I no longer do manual labor unless it’s on the field. I hire people to do it. Besides, I leave for training camp in a few weeks.”

  The breath stalled in CC’s throat, and she turned away as Max grinned. “I’m more interested in your connections. I’ve got some major renovations in mind.”

  CC left them to their discussion of custom shelving and load-bearing walls, and wandered to the other side of the cavernous room. Pretending interest in an empty cavity cut into the brick that looked as if it might have housed a dumbwaiter at some point, she berated her pounding heart. Why should she care if Tuck left town in a couple of weeks? By that point, he’d be out of her life anyway. They had a deal. Plain and simple. So far, he’d lived up to his side of the bargain. She needed to live up to hers.

  “You ready, sunshine?”

  She turned. Both men watched her, but it was the carefree smile in Tuck’s eyes that swelled the pang of loneliness in her heart. In two weeks, he’d be gone. Best she remembered that.

  Chapter 12

  “Why aren’t we going in the front door?”

  CC dipped her head to peer out the town car’s open door. No windows shed light on the narrow track between the two towering buildings. Dark and gloomy after the lights of Broadway only a few short blocks away, the seedy back alley gave her the creeps. Murky memories threatened. Kris’s hand holding hers backstage with rock ‘n’ roll thumping so loud CC wanted to cover her ears. Cameras flashing as they dashed through similar alleys into the relative safety of an awaiting limo.

  Tuck held out his hand, and she shook off the strangling fingers from the past.

  “Max and his date are meeting us inside, but I want to say hello to someone before we join them.”

  She placed her palm in his and stepped onto the curb. A single unmarked door was the only break in the aged brick wall. An ancient lamp struggled to illuminate the blocked letters, announcing the stage entrance to the downtown theater.

  Several yards to their right, a small shadow scurried behind a row of wooden crates. She suppressed a shiver. “Does that someone have four legs and a tail?”

  He chuckled and rapped his knuckles on the metal door. “Not the last time I looked.”

  Hinges creaked and light flooded the sidewalk. A wide smile creased the ebony face of the burly man filling the doorway. “Tuck! Hey, man. How the fu—er, sorry ma’am.” Ruddy color stained his cheeks as he shot CC a shy smile before turning back to Tuck. “How the hell you doin’, man?”

  Tuck stuck out his hand for a vigorous shaking. “I’m doing great, Pit. I was hoping you’d be manning the back gate. How’s Channelle?”

  Laughter danced in the big man’s dark chocolate eyes. Deep southern roots echoed in his baritone voice. “Mean as a rattler that’s been poked with a stick. She took off a few minutes ago with the kids.”
<
br />   “Damn. You make sure to tell her I said hi.”

  “Will do, but she’s gonna be pissed she missed you.”

  Tuck grinned. “How many years you been married now?”

  “Been ten blissful, terrifyin’ years.” Pit heaved a pained sigh, but his shoulders shook with mirth.

  Tuck turned to CC. “Pit and I crashed helmets before he retired to go into show business. He’s the toughest left tackle I ever faced and Channelle is a sweetheart.” He indicated the building with a sweep of a flat palm. “They own this place. Pit, this is CC.”

  “A pleasure, ma’am.”

  She nodded her greeting as he stepped back and opened the door wide.

  “You need an escort to Jessi’s dressin’ room?”

  Tuck placed a hand on her lower back and guided her inside the busy staging area. “No. The show starts in a few minutes. We’ll see her afterward.”

  “Jessi?” She spun on him. “As in Jessi and Spence?” When he’d suggested a concert for their next date, he hadn’t mentioned country music’s Grammy award winning duo or that he knew the superstars personally.

  His shoulders rose in an easy shrug. “Jessi’s my cousin.”

  She stared at him. Geez. Talk about a family of overachievers. Obviously, he had more experience with the spotlight of fame than she’d previously thought. “Of course she is.”

  He grinned at her grumbled tone, grabbed her hand, and clapped the theater owner on the back. “Good to see you, Pit.”

  “Same here. Don’t be a stranger, man.”

  He shot his friend a two-fingered salute and led her through the backstage maze. They passed only a handful of people as they headed toward the front of the house. After climbing a long set of metal stairs, they left the utilitarian walls and piping of the backstage behind. A hush hung over the plush hallway running nearly the length of the building.

  A tuxedoed usher manned his post several feet away and directed them toward a set of double doors. Nerves bubbled in her belly. With the exception of their trips to the park for Walter’s lessons, which hadn’t proven as bad as she’d expected, their dates had been relatively anonymous. The barbeque at the Malones’ didn’t count. Everyone there was a friend.