To Win Her Trust

by Mackenzie Crowne

  He slid his other arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “You’ve had a hell of an afternoon. You’re entitled to a little…snit.”

  She snorted a laugh, and he tightened his arms around her. She dropped her forehead to his chest with a smile.

  “That’s better. Now, what was your mother talking about with wounds and fatal mistakes? She didn’t seem to be making any sense.”

  A groan gurgled up from her belly and spilled from her lips. He reared back and tucked a finger under her chin, lifting her head until he could meet her gaze.

  “My mother often doesn’t make sense.” She shot a glance at the closed door. “I shouldn’t tell you this, wouldn’t tell you normally, but since you’ll be meeting her in a little while, I think you should know.”

  Apprehension crossed his brow. “Know what?”

  She looked him dead in the eyes. “If you tell anyone what I’m about to say, I’ll deny it. After I kill you.”

  He grinned, and shifting one arm to release her, he slashed his finger over his chest, crossing his heart.

  “Okay, but I mean it. Not a word.”

  He nodded.

  Her chest heaved on a deep, hesitant breath. “My mother thinks she’s psychic.” She jammed her eyes closed briefly on a wince.

  “You’re kidding?”

  “I wish. She gets some pretty kooky ideas, and she’s a bulldog about seeing them through.”

  He laughed. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “Ha! You say that now, but you’ll be singing a different tune when she pulls out her Tarot cards and starts in on you about your perfect mate.”

  “Okay. Now I’m scared.” The twinkle in his eyes belied the sentiment.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose, and a subtle whiff of sawdust flared her nostrils.

  Oh, no.

  He turned and pulled her to the door.

  She sawed at her lower lip with her teeth and stopped him before he could open it. “Would you do me a favor?”

  He turned to face her, and his laughing eyes were suddenly serious. “I’d do anything for you.”

  An internal whimper caught in her throat before it could escape. Well, shoot. She’d think about what he meant by that later.

  She cleared her throat. “Would you take a shower before she arrives?”

  Chapter 21

  “Um. I need to tell you something before my mother gets here.”

  CC curled her restless fingers into fists on the tabletop and darted a nervous glance around at the curious faces. With her mother soon to arrive, the secret of her identity would be out in a few minutes anyway. Though Natalie Calhoun no longer walked the runways, her famous face, and her connection to Curt, were well known. A preemptive strike seemed the wisest course.

  Gracie’s gaze dropped to the hand Tuck laid over CC’s, and she pushed back her chair. “Girls, how about you take your plates into the den?”

  “Like a picnic?” Charlie’s eyes lit with pleasure.

  “I get to pick the movie.” Plate in hand, Angel scooted off her chair and darted for the hall.

  “You picked last time,” her sister called, scrambling to follow. Murphy trotted after them.

  “I’ll be just a minute.” Gracie gathered their glasses and a handful of napkins and disappeared through the kitchen door.

  Tuck squeezed CC’s hand. “What’s up?”

  She shook her head without meeting his gaze. Her identity would forever be tangled with the stories of her kidnapping. Other than with Tuck and a handful of doctors, she’d never willingly opened the topic up for discussion. If she had a choice, she wouldn’t do so now, but if she was going to bare her soul to his friends, she’d rather have to say it only once.

  Jake pushed his plate forward and propped his muscled forearms on the table. “Why is it I have a bad feeling in my gut?”

  “Oh, hush, Jake.” Gracie rushed back into the room and slid into the chair beside her husband. “They’re all settled. What is it, CC? What’s wrong?”

  A familiar tightening banded her chest, and she blew out a ragged breath. “My mother is Natalie Calhoun.”

  “And her father is Curt Jensen,” Tuck added quietly.

  She turned to find his eyes on her. Sober, supportive, they bore into her, and the back of her throat stung with threatening tears. She swallowed them back and offered him a grateful smile.

  “Fuck me.” Jake eased back into his chair.

  “Oh, CC.” Understanding bloomed in Gracie’s eyes. Her gaze shifted to Tuck and clung there momentarily before returning. “Oh, sweetie.”

  CC straightened her spine. “I only mentioned it because you’re bound to recognize my mom. I didn’t want you to think I was keeping secrets from you.” And she wanted the inquisition on what had happened all those years ago done and over with before her mom was around to add to the conversation.

  “Totally understandable.”

  “Fuck me,” Jake repeated.

  “That’s ten bucks for the jar, pal.” Gracie turned to him with a stern scowl.

  He rolled his eyes, picked up his slice of pizza, and aimed it at Tuck. “You know the guys are going to rip you to shreds over that performance at the game today.” His teeth cut through the slice of pizza in an enormous bite.

  Tuck’s hand relaxed on CC’s and he laughed. “Don’t I know it.”

  “I forgot the shredded cheese.” Gracie rose to cross to the fridge. “Would anyone else like a beer?”

  CC blinked, her gaze jerking from face to face. What the hell? Most people would have peppered her with questions about the kidnapping and, braced for the assault, she wasn’t sure what to think as the conversation moved on to the pennant race standings, Max’s new building, and a controversial multiple trade sure to shake up the world of pro football. Tuck had claimed normal didn’t apply with the Malones. Apparently, he was right.

  * * * *

  Tuck hid a smile as Natalie yawned for the third time in a minute, and CC huffed out a frustrated sigh. The twins had been in bed for hours, and Gracie and Jake had gone upstairs ten minutes earlier, but Natalie Calhoun continued to hover, clucking her tongue at the shiner that had blossomed on her daughter’s cheek as the evening progressed.

  Tuck was anxious to hit the sheets as well, but not because he was tired. Yeah, the idea of slipping into CC’s sweet little body again was a definite distraction, but it was more than that. The tension in her body and face as she revealed her parents’ names to his friends tore at his heart. It was a testament to her strength that she hadn’t flat out refused to stay once she learned of her mother’s impending arrival and what that would mean, but how much could one, slight woman take?

  He respected her desire to overcome her panic attacks and was proud of the progress she’d made. It couldn’t be easy for her to relive the memories now she’d begun to share them with him, and after today’s fiasco at the game, the pack of interested reporters was one more weight bearing down on her slim shoulders.

  While she’d waved off his apologies over what had happened, insisting she’d been the one to demand they step up the dates, it tore at his gut that he’d inadvertently added to the stress she was already feeling. Hoping to minimize the fallout, he’d slipped away earlier and called his contact at ESPN. With a little luck, the press interest would fade with the exclusive interview he’d promised to give the man, but in the meantime, he wanted to sweep her into his arms and take her away to a place no one could find her, then make sweet love to her until the shadows faded from her eyes.

  She scooped the remote control from the coffee table and turned off the TV. “It’s late, Mom, and there’s a perfectly good bed waiting upstairs for you.”

  “What if you have a concussion? I’m fine right here with you on the couch. Go to sleep. I’ll wake you in an hour to make sure you’re okay.”

  Slouched in the chair across from them, Tuck cleared his throat. “I’ll keep an eye on he
r, Ms. Calhoun.”

  The smile that had graced countless magazine covers beamed his way. “I told you, it’s Natalie.”

  “Right.” He linked his fingers together on his belly. “Natalie, CC’s right. You must be tired.”

  Indecision wrinkled her brow. “Well, if you’re sure. Do you have an alarm on your phone? Concussions are nothing to be ignored.”

  CC rolled her eyes and stood. “I can set my own alarm, and I don’t have a concussion. I’m going upstairs. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

  Natalie rose from the couch, and Tuck pushed up from the chair to follow. Upstairs, CC stopped before one of the four bedroom doors and pushed it open.

  Natalie peeked inside, then straightened and moved into the room. “Oh, isn’t this lovely?”

  “Good night, Mom. I’ll see you in the morning.” CC turned toward the room he’d be sharing with her.

  Her mother spun around. “Wait, where are you sleeping?” Her gaze zipped to Tuck and back.

  CC pointed at the next door. “Right there.”

  Natalie turned to him, and her pencil thin eyebrows formed an inverted V. “And you?”

  “I’ll be right—”

  “Down the hall.”

  His head snapped in CC’s direction. The pointed widening of her eyes demanded he not contradict her claim. Was she serious? They hadn’t discussed what they were going to tell her mother about their relationship but, in his opinion, no explanation was necessary. The whole world had witnessed that kiss earlier today, if not live, then on the newscasts and sports networks. Natalie had seen it as well, or she wouldn’t be here.

  “Tuck’s room is there.” CC pointed to the last door at the end of the hall.

  He spun his head to follow her finger and bit back a groan. Why couldn’t she have picked the other door for his fictitious bedroom? If they were going to play out this farce, the twins’ nursery would have been a much preferable choice, but no. That would be too easy. Instead, she’d put him right smack dab in the master suite.

  He curled his lips in a smile, but the narrow-eyed stare he pinned on her warned she was going to pay, and pay big. If he stepped one foot into Jake’s bedroom, he’d never hear the end of it. His only choice was to stall.

  He turned to Natalie and jerked a stiffened thumb over his shoulder. “Yep. That’s me. Right down there.”

  “Well, then.”

  Like stone statues, no one moved. Natalie wore an easy smile as she stood with a hand on the knob of her opened door. A few feet away, CC looked as if she wanted to drop through the floor. Her lips were pressed tight together, and her gaze bounced from the floor to the ceiling, then down the hall in the opposite direction. Anywhere but at him.

  He shuffled his feet, hoping to break the fucked-up standoff they all seemed to be caught in. Nothing. He hiked his chin at CC. If she’d just say good night and go into their room, maybe he could drag his feet long enough for Natalie to give up and close the door. Busy studying the wallpaper as if it were made of gold, CC didn’t notice.

  Damn it to hell. His shoulders slumped, and he spun around to stalk down the hall.

  “Good night,” Natalie called to his back.

  “Good night,” CC echoed.

  He raised a hand and resisted the urge to growl. “Good night.”

  Fifteen long steps later, he hadn’t heard the click of one shutting door, never mind two. He glanced over his shoulder as he arrived at the master suite—and wanted to cry. Natalie lifted her hand to wiggle her fingers in a wave. CC wore a pained smile.

  Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the knob, opened the door, and slipped inside.

  As quietly as possible, he pushed the door closed at his back—and winced. The soft click might as well have been a gunshot. He was going to strangle CC. For shit’s sake, they were grown adults. Here he was, sneaking around like a teenager caught after curfew.

  A subtle rustling from the large bed across the expansive room made him hold his breath. Fuck. Two minutes. All he needed was two minutes, and then he could slip back out the door with none the wiser. Another rustling and the room flooded with light.

  With his arm stretched to the bedside lamp, Jake glared at him over one bare shoulder. Gracie peeked at him from beneath the other and yanked the sheet up over her husband’s bare ass.

  Tuck shot out his hand like a Heisman winner. “Don’t say a fucking word.”

  Jake slid to the side and Gracie squeaked, pulling the sheet up to her chin. Jake sat up. “You get lost?”

  “No, I—”

  “Good. Get your ass out of my bedroom.”

  Gracie pressed a hand to her husband’s arm. “What’s going on, Tuck?”

  He jammed his fingers into his hair and accepted defeat. “CC doesn’t want her mother to know we’re sleeping together.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” Concern puckered her brow.

  Jake snickered. “Sucks to be you, but you’re not bunking with us. There’s a couch downstairs. Scram.”

  “I don’t need the couch. I just need a minute until Natalie settles, and then I can sneak in with CC.”

  “You’ve got three seconds.”

  “Jake.” Gracie shook her head.

  “Okay, four seconds.”

  “You’re all heart.” Tuck turned and opened the door. He peeked out and relief washed through him when both CC and Natalie’s doors were closed. Looking back at the naked couple on the bed, he leered. “Nice jammies.”

  The pillow thumped against the door just before he shut it behind him.

  * * * *

  “Take a walk with me.”

  Sitting at the table on the patio early the next morning, CC cradled her coffee cup in her palms and eyed the trees beyond the yard. “I don’t know if I can, Tuck.”

  “Sure, you can. You didn’t think you could face down fifty thousand Yankee’s fans either, but you did.”

  “Yeah, and look how that worked out.” She touched gentle fingertips to the purple bruising beneath her eye.

  He grinned and leaned over in his chair to press a kiss to her lips. “I never realized a black eye could so be sexy.”

  She laughed and shoved him away. “God, you have a one-track mind.” And that track had kept her awash in pleasure for a good portion of last night, once he’d snuck back in to join her in the big four-poster bed. He’d threated to paddle her ass if she ever put him in such a position again, and she’d giggled her way through his telling of how he’d interrupted Jake and Gracie in their birthday suits.

  His blue eyes sparkled with teasing laughter as he sat back.

  “Thanks for calling your friend at ESPN.”

  He shrugged. “I owed him one, and he’s always been true to his word. He’s got an exclusive story, and you’ll get your privacy back.”

  He’d taped the phone interview an hour ago from their bedroom as she listened in. She’d marveled at his ability to say so much and reveal so little. With typical Tuck charm, he played coy, deftly sidestepping the issue of her identity with some good ol’ boy teasing about his reputation. Whether by prearranged design or Tuck’s skill at the verbal two-step, her name never came up.

  The three minute spot would air later this morning, scuttling the hopes of anyone still interested in breaking the story. He insisted the plan would work, and she hoped he was right.

  He pushed from his chair and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s check one more fear off your list before the house begins to stir.”

  Against her better judgment, she placed her palm into his. They crossed the lawn, leaving a path through morning dew, and she breathed deeply as they approached the edge of the woods.

  “You doing okay?”

  She nodded, though technically it wasn’t the truth. The shadowy gloom of the thick timber gave her the creeps and made her palms sweat. She wiped her free hand on her shorts but continued forward. He was right. One less fear weighing her down would bring her another step closer to freedom, and though living in Ma
nhattan, the chances were good she’d never have need to venture into the woods in the future, you never knew.

  “When I was a kid, our parents used to take my cousins and me to a state reserve about an hour west of Boston called Purgatory Chasm. How’s that for a spooky name?” He gripped her fingers tight and guided her over a small log partially blocking the trail.

  She glanced over, suspicious. “Are you making that up just to distract me?”

  His teeth flashed in a teasing grin. “Why? Is it working?”

  She chuckled. “A little.”

  “Good, but I’m serious. We’d all squeeze into my uncle’s station wagon before the sun had even come up. Once we got there, the adults would cook an incredible breakfast on the outdoor grills while us kids explored the rocks and caves.” He brushed a low branch aside so she could pass. “The rock formations had different names like The Coffin, Lover’s Leap, and my favorite, Fat Man’s Misery.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Why was it called that?”

  “Because no fat man is getting himself into that crack. There’s this huge granite boulder that looks like someone took a giant sledgehammer and broke it down the middle. The gap is about a foot wide and fifteen feet deep. We used to see how many of us could cram inside at once.”

  Surprised to note he’d let go of her hand and she was now leading him down the trail, she waited for the fingers of panic to grab at her throat. When they didn’t, she heaved a breath and hurried her steps. “Have you been back? I mean, since you’ve grown up?”

  “Nope, but I’d like to. Jessi has a show in Boston on Friday and the Chasms were always her favorite. What do you say we make a date to go this week?”

  To Boston? He wanted to take her to his hometown? Her suddenly racing heart had nothing to do with fear. She shouldn’t read anything into the request. They had a week and a half left in their agreement, after all, and there were only so many movies and museums to see. Still, she couldn’t help the growing kernel of hope….

  She stopped and turned to face him with a cocky smirk. “I don’t know. You’re not a kid anymore and, well…” She ran her gaze up and down his muscular body. “Fat Man’s Misery might mean you. Are you sure you’ll still fit?”