“Cab. I need a cab.” She squirmed in her seat and mumbled into the phone.
He spoke over the answering dispatcher. “Where to?”
Murphy abandoned his lunch to trot to Jake’s side, pressing against his thigh in gleeful welcome. She shot her dog a disapproving scowl—which he ignored, the traitor. Jake grinned, bending to scrub at his head with a rough hand.
“Hold on a second.” She held the phone away from her ear. “The train station. I have several appointments this afternoon.”
He straightened. “I’ll take you.”
The station was only a mile and a half away but…trapped in a car with the Outlaw Tight End? Whistles and catcalls joined the ovation. Abso-friggin-lutely not! “Thanks, but that’s not necessary.”
“I don’t mind.”
“That’s okay.” She held up the phone. “I’ve already called for a ride.”
“I’m headed that way.”
She clenched her teeth and mentally grappled about for a valid excuse to send him on his way. Alone. Her gaze snagged on her uneaten yogurt. She held up the cup with her free hand. “I’m not quite ready. You go ahead.”
He draped his coat over the back of a chair. “I’m in no rush. I’ll wait.”
Crap.
He sniffed at the air and spun his head in Mary’s direction. “Do I smell homemade chicken noodle soup?”
Mary nodded. He rubbed his hands together and stalked to the cabinets to pull down a bowl then plucked a spoon from the dish strainer on the counter. He ladled up a healthy portion before returning to the table, an arched brow winged Gracie’s way.
Embarrassed heat flushed her cheeks. God, she’d been sitting there like a dummy, yogurt in one hand and the phone in the other, as the dispatcher waited. She clenched her teeth. Setting aside the yogurt, she slapped the phone to her ear.
He took things into his own hands, literally, by snatching the phone from her fingers.
“Hey!”
Mischief twinkled in his eyes even as he tilted his lips in an innocent smile. “Cancel that order. She’s got a ride.” He pressed a thumb to the screen then held out the phone.
She snatched it back. “What happened to the truce you mentioned?”
“What?” In a wholly male move, he lifted a leg over the back of the chair beside hers and dropped to sit. He pointed toward the window with his spoon. “I’m doing you a favor. Have you looked outside? It’s snowing.”
She glanced out the window and found he was right. Heavy flakes floated past the pane.
He spooned up a mouthful of soup, groaning and dipping the spoon for another taste. “By the way, you might want to exchange your skirt for some slacks.” He sat back, rocking the chair on two legs, and cocked his head to peer down at her feet. “And the hot footwear for something a little more practical.”
“Hot footwear?”
He let the chair legs drop to the floor, winked, and dove the spoon back into his soup. “Slushy snow and sex on heels aren’t a good combination.”
She jerked straight and glanced down at her favorite Michael Kor knockoffs. Her gaze flew to Mary. The housekeeper’s eyes were owl wide.
Sex on heels?
Was he flirting with her? The possibility increased her heart rate to manic. She shot him a sidelong glance. He slurped a spoonful of soup. No, he wasn’t flirting. Not with her. He couldn’t be. They didn’t particularly like one another. Besides, Mary was sitting right there, listening intently, but his teasing sure felt that way.
Her panicked gaze flew to the window. “Maybe I should reschedule my appointments.”
Silent laughter sparkled beneath thick lashes as he looked up from his bowl. “Nah. It’s only flurries. You’ll be fine.” He scraped along the bottom of the bowl and slipped the spoon into his mouth. His eyelids drooped to half-mast and he moaned as if savoring the last bite he’d ever experience.
Goose bumps broke out and she swallowed.
He sat back with a satisfied sigh and graced the housekeeper with a dimpled smile. “That was incredible, Miss Mary. Marry me and I’ll set you up in the world’s finest kitchen.”
Mary colored prettily but pinned him with knowing eyes. “You’re a bold one to be sure, but I’ve lived too many years to be swept away by a charming smile and a set of brawny shoulders.”
Deep and masculine, his laughter permeated the feminine confines of the housekeeper’s domain. Mary stood. Shaking her head, her smile remained as she carried both his and her bowls to the sink.
He eyed the yogurt cup. “You going to eat that or are you finished?”
Gracie didn’t think she could swallow another bite. Nodding wanly, she stood when he did. He grabbed his coat as she slipped into hers and gathered her laptop and purse.
“I should be back by five, Mary.”
“Take your time, child. I promised the girls a chocolate tea party this afternoon. Hot cocoa for a snowy afternoon. I’m thinking a batch of cookies would go nicely.”
Jake paused in shrugging into his jacket. “Chocolate chip?”
Mary rolled her eyes. “As if the girls would eat any other kind.”
He jammed his arms into the sleeves. “Any chance you’ll consider making that a double batch?”
She turned from the sink, a dishrag hanging from her fingers. Her eyes glittered with calculation. “I might. If you’ll consider passing by the train station and delivering Gracie to her appointments in the city.”
He dipped his chin in a curt nod. “Done.”
“Mary!”
“I won’t have you catching the sniffles and passing them on to the girls.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Off with you now. I’ve things to do.”
Double teamed and unsure how to regain control of her commuter plans, Gracie stalked out of the kitchen and down the hallway. Murphy trotted at her side. A chuckle sounded as she reached for the front doorknob.
“Are you sure you don’t want to change your shoes?”
She spun around. “What’s with you and my shoe—aah!” She jumped back.
A mere inch away, he dipped his head, bringing them even closer. “I can’t help it. I’m a leg man. There’s nothing sexier than a long-legged woman in a pair of three-inch heels.” Like a predator on the scent, he stepped forward, crowding her up against the closed door.
Her shoulders thumped against wood.
His drawl smoothed into a seductive purr. “I’d sure hate to see them ruined when they get wet. The shoes, I mean.” He paused for a long, suggestive beat and his lips tilted in a distinctly wicked smile. “Your legs would only look better wet.”
She gasped. “Stop doing that!”
“Doing what?” The mischievous glint in his eyes ruined his attempt at looking innocent.
“Making suggestive comments like you’re…like you’re flirting or something. I’m the enemy, remember?”
He dropped his gaze to run his eyes over her body in a slow survey. “Oh, princess. You could never be the enemy.”
She mentally stomped her heel down on the prickles of awareness his sexy tone and blatant once-over produced. Hah! Rattled by his not-so-subtle flirting, she’d forgotten who she was dealing with. Too bad for him he’d overplayed his hand.
Princess, my ass.
Royalty was rare amongst the residents of the New York City Housing Authority. The art of street fighting wasn’t. If the all-pro superstar thought he could blitz her with a few well-placed innuendos, he deserved to learn what it was like to get sacked.
She widened her eyes, batting her lashes as if dazzled by his flirty compliment, and puckered her lips on a breathy “Oh.” She nearly ruined the affect by smirking when her acting skills proved more adequate than she’d hoped. His gaze dropped to her mouth and stayed there.
Another step sandwiched her between his body and the door. Doing her best to ignore the giddy leap of her heart, she pressed her spread fingers against the soft sweater covering his chest, beneat
h his open jacket. His glittering green gaze lifted to tangle with hers and, though she longed to experience the kiss the sensual intent gleaming in his eyes promised, she was no more a fool than she was a princess.
Already at a disadvantage with her unwanted housemate, gaining firsthand knowledge of what it was like to lock lips with him would only make matters worse. No, if she was going to survive living with him for the next ninety days, it would be best to lay some ground rules right now. For both of them, but first, he was going to learn who he was dealing with.
Holding his gaze, she rode her hand up over the hard plains of his chest to his shoulder then twined her fingers into the silky hair falling to his collar. She had to cut off an appreciative moan. So soft. A fascinated shiver lifted the fine follicles of hair on the back of her neck and arms when his pupils dilated once again. He dipped his head another inch. Heated spice tickled her senses, making her mouth water and her nostrils quiver in greedy delight.
Oh, holy hell. He smells better than Mary’s chocolate chip cookies.
He lowered his head until no more than a breath separated his lips from hers, and she momentarily lost track of her agenda. Gleaming striations brightened the green of his eyes as they smoldered with the promise of lovely, decadent secrets.
A sigh shimmered from her lips when he closed the remaining distance between them. Her eyes slid shut as, warm and surprisingly tender, his lips brushed hers, nibbling in no particular pattern. Small brush fires flashed to life throughout her system. Heat flared when he deepened the contact, sliding his arms around her and demanding entrance to her mouth with a hot flick of his tongue. A nagging disquiet hovered at the edge of her awareness, but she was helpless against his seductive onslaught.
She obliged him, opening her mouth to curl her tongue with his. Spice and heat tempted and teased. What was a woman to do when faced with such an irresistible combination? She sucked at the silky tongue tangling with hers then moaned at the rich flavor exploding on her taste buds like a sumptuous treat.
Strong arms hauled her up against a muscled chest and thighs. Iron hard interest pressed against her belly.
Snap out of it! Swallowing Jake Malone’s tongue is not part of the plan.
With an inward wince at her flagging willpower, she moved with more panic than grace. Fortunately, her lack of finesse didn’t matter. A healthy shove to his chest with one hand accompanied a sharp tug on his hair with the other. A quick jerk of her high-heeled boot behind his knee finished the job and the Marauders’ number one tight end toppled backward to sprawl at her feet.
Murphy barked excitedly and pranced around Jake’s prone form.
She sucked in air. “Not your enemy, huh? Wanna bet?”
He shoved the dog aside and sat up. His astonished eyes never left hers. “I can’t believe you did that.”
She angled her chin defiantly. “Suit yourself, but never try and play me again or you’ll get more of the same.”
“Play you? Isn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black?” He had the audacity to laugh at her glare and pushed to his feet. “I’m a professional athlete. I play for a living and excel at….” He raked his gaze down her body and grinned when his gaze met hers once more. “Contact sports. Anytime you want a rematch, princess, I’m happy to oblige. But I have to warn you, I’m a quick learner. Best you remember that.”
She bared her teeth and ignored the residual heat humming through her bloodstream, leaving her limbs weak. “I’m not a princess and I fight dirty. Best you remember that!”
Spinning around, she fled outside, giving Murphy the command to sit when he would’ve rushed out behind her. The door closed at her back, but she didn’t bother checking to see if Jake followed. The crunch of his boots on the snowy steps told her he did. He keyed the remote, making his big SUV chirp. Furious, more with herself than him, she rushed across the distance and wrenched open the passenger door. She slid inside, closing the door and snapping on her seat belt with shaking fingers as he skirted the hood for the driver’s side.
Crap. That certainly hadn’t gone as planned. Sure, she’d managed to toss him on his ass, eventually, but what was she thinking, letting him kiss her? And what was she thinking, kissing him back? Damn it. Far from laying out some much needed ground rules, all she’d gained by getting close enough to perform the toss was a new appreciation of his spicy-sex scent.
Okay, lesson learned. Grappling with the seasoned pro…hell, getting within ten feet of him was a bad idea.
The vehicle started with a well-tuned purr. Eyes trained straight ahead, a pained wince drew her attention.
He rolled his hips, lifting them slightly, and rubbed a hand to the butt cheek on the side closest to her. “Damn. I’ll probably have a bruise.”
The man collided with three hundred pound behemoths for a living, and he was complaining about a little bruise on his butt? Right.
She rolled her eyes. “You deserved it.”
One last rub to his ass and he settled in his seat. He shifted into drive. “No man deserves to get knocked on his ass for a bit of flirting.”
“You kissed me!”
The challenge in his eyes brought guilt, even before he tossed down the gauntlet. “Do you really want to argue over who kissed whom, princess?”
Ugh. No. No, she didn’t.
She thinned her lips in a flat line of displeasure. “I told you not to call me that.”
“You did? Well, now, princess, I must have missed that.” He laughed when she gave a frustrated huff and brought the car to a stop at the end of the driveway. “Where to?”
“The train station.”
“No way in hell. There’s a batch of chocolate chip cookies on the line. Besides, I promised Mary.”
“She’s not going to know.”
“I will.” He pulled onto the rural road, heading in the opposite direction from the station. “Where are we going?”
She huffed a breath. “Park and Twenty-third.”
“There. You see. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He shot her a grin. “If the idea of sharing a commute with me is such a hardship, why didn’t you drive yourself?”
“Huh?”
“I haven’t had time to explore yet but, according to Mary, there are several vehicles in the garage. Why were you calling a cab?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t drive.”
His brows winged upward comically. “Ever, or only in principle.”
“Ever. I don’t have a license.”
He turned to give her a blank stare. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I live in Manhattan. Public transportation takes me wherever I want to go. Why go through the hassle of learning to drive when I’ll probably never own or need my own vehicle?”
He shook his head and the horrified disbelief in his eyes suggested she was nuts. “For the sheer joy of driving?”
As if to back up his comment, he picked up speed, guiding the high-powered machine around a long curve as though they were gliding on glass. He tossed her a toothy grin and a waggled brow.
She rolled her eyes and faced forward again then gasped and dug her fingernails into the supple leather of the armrest. Her eyes went wide as he accelerated toward a slow moving combine hogging most of their lane.
“It’s all fun and games until you plow head on into a tractor.” The last few words came out on a squeak.
He whipped into the other lane at the last second without ever taking his foot off the gas pedal.
The man was either insane or one of those maniac adrenaline junkies. What was she thinking? Of course he got off on adrenaline surges. He played professional football for a living.
Lazy confidence filled his tone as he guided the big vehicle back into the correct lane. “It’s a simple matter of picking your route and showing no fear.”
She yanked her seat belt tighter. “Tell me that again when you’re trying to navigate Time’s Square in noontime traffic.”
/> His low chuckle danced down her spine.
She sniffed. “You’re insane and I’ll stick to cabs, thank you.”
“Cabs? And you’re worried about a random piece of farm equipment?” He shook his head. “I’ve been in several city cabs that were little more than rolling death traps.”
“From what I can see, you’re an expert at rolling death traps.”
His deep laughter filled the interior of the car. She remained silent for several long moments, but finally her jittering nerves got the better of her. She turned to study him.
“Where are you headed, anyway?”
“The Sports Complex.”
“Isn’t there a concert there tonight? The field can’t be available for practice.”
“No practice today, but there are game tapes to watch, and I’ll get in a workout while I’m there.”
Great. The last thing she needed was the mental picture forming of a hot and sweaty Jake, working those impossible-to-miss muscles. She shoved the image aside. “Did Mary mention Pete had a section of the barn converted into a gym?”
Crap. Why had she mentioned that? The less time he spent at the farm, the better. Either he was a mind reader or the instant heat in her cheeks gave her away.
Wicked intent curled his lips in a wide smile. “Well now, princess. I’ll keep that in mind. If you volunteer as my spotter.”
Oh, yeah. A very long three months.
Chapter 9
“Jake Malone?” Max Grayson’s stride never faltered from the quick pace he’d set on the treadmill beside hers, but his dark brows shot up to his hairline. His forehead glimmered with healthy sweat. “The Outlaw? The other half of your ugly, viral spat? That Jake Malone?”
Gracie jacked up a shoulder to swipe at a bead of sweat sliding down her temple. She shot Max a grimace. “You mean there’s more than one?”
Creases bracketed his stubbled cheeks when he grinned. “Not as far as you’re concerned.”
She rolled her eyes then glanced around the busy gym. The hum of a dozen treadmills couldn’t drown out the thud of running feet or the grunts of exertion and clang of free weights. As usual, the physical proof of her friend’s persistence and determination to realize his dream sent a thrill straight to her heart.
To Win Her Love Page 7