To Win Her Trust

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by Mackenzie Crowne

Kris eased a hip onto the corner of her workbench and crossed her legs. “What are you going to do?”

  “I have no idea.” She slipped onto her stool. “What aggravates me most is she made some good points. About the show, not about seeing Curt.” She scowled. “He proved long ago fatherhood isn’t his thing. I mean, it’s been sixteen years. I’ve heard from him, what? Four times, including last week’s two calls?”

  “He must want something.”

  “Yeah, but what? Apparently, aged rockers and their classic tunes are all the rage in certain circles. By all accounts, his career is rock solid these days. Even if it weren’t, dredging up the kidnapping to get press would be a waste of time. Two decades have passed, and I’m hardly the sympathetic figure I was when he paraded me around for profit. A reclusive daughter who spends her time twisting wire into shapes in her studio would bring nothing but yawns from the music industry news junkies.”

  A grimace wrinkled Kris’s nose. “Except, you haven’t been spending all your time in your studio. Not lately, anyway.”

  “Shit. Do you think he knows about Tuck?”

  Walter bumped her knee as he slid between the stool and the bench leg to drop to the floor, where he proceeded to maul a rawhide bone.

  Kris’s shoulders jerked in a shrug. “There’s been nothing about the two of you in the papers, that I’ve seen, but this is Manhattan and Curt knows a lot of people. Someone could have seen you together and mentioned it to him.”

  She dropped her forehead to the workbench and groaned.

  “Or maybe he’s had an epiphany and wants to beg your forgiveness for being a prick and a rotten father.”

  Turning her head, she met her cousin’s gaze and sat up.

  “No frigging way,” they said in unison, then grinned.

  Kris leaned her hands back on the desk. “Screw it. He can’t play whatever hand he has up his sleeve unless you cooperate. Tell him to piss in his guitar case and forget about him.”

  For the first time since her mother’s call saying she was in town, CC laughed.

  Kris swung out her legs and slid to her feet. “In the meantime, I have the next few days off. I’ll run interference with your mother until she leaves town.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “But I want to.” She cocked a hip and tugged the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Don’t take this wrong, but she was right when she said you’ll never truly be healed until you face the world like the strong woman you are.”

  CC swiveled on the stool to face her. “And like I told her, I’m working on it.” Stepping outside of her safety zone hadn’t been easy, but she’d done it, even before she’d made her deal with Tuck.

  “I know.” Kris’s teeth flashed. “And it shows. Remind me to give Tuck a big fat kiss next time I see him.”

  Crossing her arms, she smirked. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to do that. What do you mean it shows?”

  She winced at the sting as Kris flicked a fingertip down her sunburned nose. “When was the last time you willingly went to the beach or to a barbeque?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “But it’s more than that. Despite your mother being in town and your father’s sudden calls, not to mention the dweeb pushing you to do a show, you look happy, Cees.”

  Did she? Was she? She scrunched her nose in a silent examination of her feelings. Was that happiness lightening her heart, and was the subtle easing of the terror that had held her in its grip for so long the reason or was a certain sexy wide receiver responsible for her growing sense of optimism? Ultimately, the answer didn’t matter, since she never would have found the former without the latter. God knew she’d made little progress overcoming her ghosts on her own. Despite her efforts to fulfill her birthday promise, each consequent step outside her safety zone had been as frightening as the last. She hadn’t been making the kind of progress she’d hoped for, but from the moment Tuck had barreled into her life that had changed. She wasn’t cured. Not by a long shot, but for the first time, she believed she might actually have the chance at a somewhat normal life.

  “Whatever Tuck is doing, it’s working.”

  Tugged from her musings, she blinked at her cousin. The memory of his head, dipped to her breast as his tongue swirled around the tip, brought the heat of a blush to her cheeks.

  A sly smile tipped the corners of her cousin’s mouth. “I rest my case. He’s good for you, cuz.”

  For her? That was debatable, but there was no doubt he was good. She spun away and began to straighten the tools littered about the bench top. “You have no idea.”

  “Shut. Up!”

  CC turned to look at Kris.

  Kris’s arms dropped to her sides as if they had turned to lead. “Did you sleep with him? Tell me you slept with him and, for God’s sake, don’t leave out any of the details.”

  “I haven’t slept with him, so there’s nothing to tell.” She glanced down at her lap. Okay, that wasn’t technically true. There was plenty to tell. She’d come as close to having carnal knowledge of Tuck as a woman could, but no way could she give the details. They were too personal, too intimate, to share, even with Kris.

  “But you plan to. All right, Cees!”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Ha.” Kris pressed her fingers to the top of CC’s head and forced her to look up. She studied her heated cheeks. “That blush says you have.” She bared her teeth in a challenging grin, then turned toward the hallway and wiggled her fingers above her head. “My work here is done. Good night.”

  She smiled as her cousin flounced from the room, then leaned her arms on the workbench with a sigh. Had she truly decided to sleep with Tuck? Caught up in the swirl of raw emotion, there hadn’t been a lot of thinking going on this afternoon. Not on her part, anyway. One moment she was sharing one of her darkest memories and the next she was in his arms. If she’d been thinking clearly, would she have ended up squirming beneath him on the verge of orgasm or would she have danced away from the dangerous flame he lit within her once again?

  Whatever the answer, her lack of willpower when it came to Tuck proved it was only a matter of time before she ended up in exactly the same place she’d been when her mother’s call interrupted them. The question was could she hold out until the end of their agreement? Sensual memories flooded her mind and her nipples peaked. She slid her hands over each breast as wet heat pooled between her thighs.

  She groaned. Not a chance in hell.

  Walter scrambled to his feet and rested his head onto her knee. She rubbed his silky ear between forefinger and thumb. The truth was, although an addiction to Tuck was the last thing she needed, experiencing the promises of untold pleasures in his eyes was a temptation she didn’t want to resist. Not any longer.

  Though the changes were subtle, her life had already been irreversibly altered. She was stronger than she’d been only days before. Stronger than she’d ever considered she could be. Tuck’s influence was responsible for much of the progress she’d made, but she didn’t discount her own contribution to her growing confidence.

  He may have been the catalyst, but she’d been the one to face the fears. She’d taken steps she’d always thought were impossible. Baby steps, to be sure—she smiled at the memory of his intimate teasing—but with each inch forward, she found she wanted more. More of her fledgling freedom, more of a full life, and definitely more of Tuck.

  Taking a chance and having her heart broken scared the crap out of her, and yet, hadn’t that been what she’d been doing for the past ten days? Taking chances?

  She wanted it all, and to get it, she was going to have to leave her safe and lonely existence behind. A great plan in theory. Did she have what it took to pull it off in practice?

  Her purse lay on the couch beside her coat. She scooted from the stool and rounded the bench to rummage through it. Tuck had input his phone number and address in her phone. In case she needed to reach him, he’d said. She scrolled through her contacts until his information popped up on t
he screen.

  Scooping up her coat, she stalked to the hallway and stopped at the foot of the stairs. Her dog climbed them in a loping run and disappeared beyond the landing. “Kris, I’m heading out for a little while. Keep an eye on Walter for me, will you?”

  Her cousin’s muffled voice called back, “Where are you going?”

  “To Tuck’s.”

  A moment of silence was broken by the pounding of bare feet. Kris slid to a stop on the landing. She tossed a small bag down the stairs. CC snagged it in a fumbling catch.

  “What’s this?” Plastic crinkled as she opened the bag to look inside.

  “A three pack of super-duper, nothing’s-getting-through-these-suckers condoms.”

  She crushed the bag shut with convulsing fingers and looked up.

  “Never go on a booty call without them.”

  She swallowed and almost changed her mind right then and there, but the encouraging smile on Kris’s face wouldn’t let her.

  “Be careful, Cees. And have a blast!”

  Chapter 17

  By the time CC stopped in front of Tuck’s door, her palms were sweating so badly the plastic bag nearly slipped from her fingers. She stared at the golden 3C embossed on the glossy wooden door. What was she doing here? She didn’t do booty calls. She wasn’t even sure what one entailed… But she could guess.

  The bag crinkled in her fingers and she gasped. Afraid he’d open the door and find her strangling a bag of condoms, she shoved it into her purse. A deep breath and she lifted her hand to rap her knuckles on the wooden panel. Silence greeted her. She swallowed back nerves and flicked a furtive glance up the empty hallway, then down. Rolling her shoulders, she knocked again.

  More silence.

  Why hadn’t she thought to call first? Maybe he wasn’t home or, oh, God. Oh, shit! What if he wasn’t alone? She never had gotten around to requesting that exclusivity clause. The sunburn on her nose stung as she scrunched her face in a panicked grimace.

  She’d taken three steps toward the elevator when the door clicked open at her back.

  “CC?”

  Skidding to a halt, she chanced a glance over her shoulder. Her pulse catapulted into the stroke zone. Unlike her bright red nose, the noonday sun had deepened the tan on his tough-guy face, highlighting the jagged, pale pink scar slashing one brow. His shaggy haircut stuck out on one side of his head, as if he’d thrashed the gold-tipped locks with the careless shove of his fingers. The sleeves of his battered Marauders T-shirt had been torn away and left his shoulders bare, and a pair of soft cotton athletic shorts clung to his muscled thighs above long legs and bare feet.

  She pivoted to face him. “I—” God, I should have thought about what I was going to say before I knocked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

  She moved backward several steps.

  “Wait.” He held out one hand. Holding the door open with one foot, he leaned his upper body back inside as if reaching for something.

  She whipped around, intent on the elevator doors ten feet away.

  “Wait, CC.”

  She fled down the hall and jammed her finger to both call buttons. Eyes glued to the contrasting arrows above the double doors, she willed one of them to light. Up or down, it didn’t matter, as long as she got out of there before he could follow. “Come on. Come on.” Pressing the buttons multiple times did nothing to speed the car’s arrival.

  Her frantic gaze ping-ponged about the long hallway. An exit sign jeered at her from above the stairway door twenty yards away. She shot a glance over her shoulder and yelped as Tuck plunged into the hall and loped in her direction. The elevator dinged at the exact moment his muscled arm snaked around her waist from behind.

  “Where are you going?” His warm breath bathed her ear.

  She fought a shiver. “Home. This was a stupid idea.”

  “No. No, it’s a great idea.” He shifted but didn’t lessen his hold on her. Arm draped over her shoulders, he turned her and led her back to his condo door. “I’m glad you’re here. I was just thinking about you.”

  “You were?” She twisted her head to look at him, her brows jumping together in a suspicious frown. “Why?”

  The corner of his mouth tweaked in a soft smile, and she jammed her eyes shut. Suspicion probably wasn’t the right mood to set when one was on a booty call. Not that it mattered. As she’d said, coming here was a stupid idea.

  He slashed a keycard through the slot beside the door. It opened with a quiet snick, and he wasted no time escorting her inside. As he slid his arm from her shoulders and turned to shut and lock the door, she glanced around.

  The living area consisted of a large, sunken space. Built around the stunning view of Central Park through the far wall of glass, the room was sparsely furnished in what she imagined was stereotypical bachelor fashion. A huge, flat screen TV hung over a granite fireplace, but other than several black TV components, a long leather couch, low coffee table, and a single pole lamp, the room was empty. Off to the right, four stools fronted a breakfast bar wrapped around a galley kitchen. A pizza box and several Chinese takeout containers sat on the countertop.

  She jumped when he grasped both her hands and dipped his head to meet and hold her gaze. Genuine regret darkened his eyes. “I don’t like the way we left things this afternoon.”

  She looked away, dropping her focus to the center of his chest. “Neither do I.”

  He drew a deep breath, and the T-shirt stretched taught against his well-developed pecs. “How you decide to handle your father is your call. It’s not my place to push you into doing something you’re not ready to do.”

  If only her mother were of the same opinion. Why was it the one person she’d actually asked to help was the only one not insisting he knew the best way to go about pushing past her fears? But she didn’t want to talk about Curt or her fears. She’d stepped way outside of her box coming here, and she had no idea how to go about asking for what she hoped came next. She was counting on Tuck to understand and take the lead.

  “Not even if I want you to?” Embarrassed, despite being unsure if he’d catch the deeper meaning behind the question, she kept her eyes on the enticing bulge of muscle inches from her nose.

  A fingertip beneath her chin lifted her face. If his blazing blue gaze was any indication, he was an expert at reading between the lines. “Are we still talking about your father?”

  Her throat clicked on a heavy swallow. “Not exactly.”

  A hint of a smile teased his lips. “Good. He’s a selfish prick. I’d much rather talk about what happened on the couch.”

  Oh, thank God. But talking about it wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. If she was going to pull this off, they needed to get to it before she lost her nerve. “Do you mind if we sit down?”

  “Not at all.”

  The warmth of his large hand radiated to her lower back through the thin material of the little black dress she’d worn to meet her mother for dinner. She dug in her heels as he started to lead her toward the couch. He stopped and arched a brow.

  Nerves tangled her insides in a knot. “I was thinking…that is…” She jutted out her chin and jumped headlong into her own probable destruction. “Why don’t you show me your bedroom?”

  His pupils dilated until the blue of the irises was almost eclipsed. Tension tightened the skin covering his cheekbones. “Are you sure?”

  Not in the least, and if you don’t hurry it up, I’m going to hurl. “I’m sure.”

  She was pressed up against him before she could blink. The tight squeeze of his arms compressed her rib cage as his mouth claimed hers in a slow kiss that made her toes curl. Her legs weren’t quite steady when he released her, grabbed one hand, and began tugging her toward a short hallway off the kitchen.

  He snagged a bottle from the built-in wine rack at the end of the breakfast bar as they passed. Several steps later, he stopped short, then backtracked to the kitchen. “Here. Hold this.” He handed her the bottle and turned to scr
ounge through a drawer. A few seconds later, he straightened and held up a corkscrew with a grin. Tucking it into his pocket, he snagged two glasses by the stems, grabbed her hand, and hurried for the door at the end of the hall.

  He pounced on her the moment they stepped over the threshold of his private lair. Sweeping her into his arms, he stalked across the room. One of her shoes slipped from her foot and thumped to the floor as he bent to peel back the dark comforter. He lowered her onto the cool sheets of the king-sized bed, set aside the glasses on the bedside table, and lifted a knee to the mattress. With his spread hands propped on each side of her shoulders, he lowered his body over hers.

  She squeezed her free hand between them and attempted to push at his chest. She was all for fast, but this was ridiculous. “Slow down, Tuck.”

  He dipped his head and began an exploration of her neck with warm lips. He spoke against her skin. “So you can change your mind? Not a chance.”

  Goose bumps broke out and chased the trail of his fingers as they whispered over her collarbone to dip beneath the neckline of her dress. His hand burrowed deeper and cupped her breast.

  “Tuck.”

  His murmur of encouragement bathed her neck with damp heat and made her shiver. He rotated his hand, rasping his palm against her peaked nipple as he kneaded her flesh with magic fingers. Despite lying on her back, she grew lightheaded as answering shock waves shot straight to her clit. Good Lord. She’d be a puddle of goo before he’d removed a single strip of clothing.

  Teetering on the edge of orgasm, she squeezed her thighs together to hold off the inevitable. “Tuck.”

  His heated mouth sipped its way over her chest.

  “Tuck!” She pinched a lock of his hair and tugged gently to get his attention.

  “Ouch.” His fingers stilled, and he raised his head. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Because this is my first time. I didn’t want you to miss it.”

  His brows puckered. “How could I miss it when I’m right here with you?”

  “Believe me, if I hadn’t stopped you, in less than a minute, I would have left you in the orgasmic dust.”

 

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