The Name of the Game

by Jennifer Dawson

  With Maddie’s help she’d created the front of a red Corvette with the hood popped, which she’d filled with four different kinds of cupcakes, including Mary Beth’s favorite, a honey and banana number with vanilla-bean frosting.

  She’d upped her game considerably. She thought of the messages waiting for her at home. Potential clients who wanted a website on which to view her work. Her current website consisted of her contact information and a few pictures. These new clients wanted to see portfolios of completed projects. She nibbled on her bottom lip. She couldn’t ignore them, but didn’t quite know what to do about them.

  As much as she loved stretching her creativity, she wasn’t sure how to manage all the requests.

  “It looks great,” Maddie said from behind her.

  At the sound of her voice, Gracie experienced a pang of guilt. In all the hoopla and craziness of the day, she’d forgotten to call. Damn. With a smile, Gracie turned to her friend. “Thanks. You helped. We make a good team.”

  Maddie turned to the display. “I helped get the shape you wanted for the car, but that was it. You did all the hard stuff.”

  “You helped. And I appreciate it. I’m thrilled with how it came out.” She’d done a good job and she was proud of it.

  “I love the details.” Fresh-faced, with her red hair tied back in a ponytail, Maddie studied the display with her artist’s eye. She wore a pair of jeans and a powder-blue long-sleeved T-shirt that hugged her petite frame. She glowed with health and Gracie experienced an ache at the distance between them.

  Gracie adjusted the sign that described each of her concoctions. “Thanks. I was going to call you this morning but things got a little crazy and I lost track of time trying to get into the swing of things.”

  Maddie smiled at her. “I understand. You’ve been busy. How’d the cake delivery go?”

  “It must have been a big hit because I have twenty more orders.”

  “Wow, Gracie, that’s fantastic. You must be thrilled.”

  Gracie reached over and straightened a cupcake so the logo was perfectly aligned with the others. “There’s a lot of logistics to figure out and I’m not sure how to manage it.”

  “Yeah, Chicago is far enough that traveling there on a regular basis could be difficult.” Maddie’s head cocked to the side, sending her auburn ponytail swinging, and Gracie could practically see the wheels spinning in her head. “You could hire a delivery service. Or maybe talk to Shane. He might know somewhere in Chicago where you could rent temporary space.”

  After she’d finished here at the garage, she’d have to return all those calls. Maybe once she had an idea of what they wanted, it wouldn’t seem so overwhelming. Gracie smiled at her friend. “I’m going to actually have to start using those reminder thingies in my phone.”

  Maddie laughed. “Let me know if you need anything. I can’t bake to save my soul, but I have other talents, and I want to help.”

  Maddie had a pure heart and would bend over backward for the people she cared about. A trait that had almost led to her marrying the wrong man. But she’d learned to say no, and Gracie knew if Maddie offered now, she meant it. Gracie hugged her. “Thanks. I’m going to take you up on that just as soon as I figure out what I need.”

  Maddie squeezed tight before pulling back. “So, how was the rest of your weekend?”

  “Oh, it was quiet,” Gracie lied, and her cheeks warmed as she remembered all the dirty things she’d done with James. Quiet wasn’t a word on the list, except if she counted the times he’d held his hand over her mouth because he’d figured out struggling excited her.

  Diabolical man.

  She tugged at her red top. Good thing it was over and she could stop thinking about him. And she would, any second now.

  Gracie glanced at Maddie to find her arms crossed, a quizzical expression on her face. Gracie half expected her to yell, You slept with my brother, didn’t you?

  Maddie narrowed the Donovan-family green eyes and pointed. “You have a secret.”

  “No, I don’t,” Gracie said quickly. Damn it.

  “Yes, you do,” Maddie insisted. “Is it a guy?”

  “No!” The word came out in an all-too-telling shriek.

  Maddie clapped a hand over her mouth before going wide-eyed. “It is!”

  “You’re insane. It’s no one.” Gracie’s heart began a rapid beat. “I had a quiet weekend at a spa, by myself.”

  “Then why do you look so tired?”

  Because your brother didn’t let me sleep. “I’m perfectly well rested.”

  “Come on.” Maddie’s lower lip puffed out in an adorable pout that worked wonders on Mitch, and truth be told, wasn’t lost on Gracie. “Why won’t you tell me?”

  “What are you two girls gabbing about? You’re standing in front of my display!”

  Gracie turned to see Mary Beth Crowley, head of the junior league, local firecracker, and the person paying the bill, standing there, hands planted on her hips. Gracie wanted to kiss her for the interruption.

  At barely five feet, the blond, former Southern girl was a force to be reckoned with. A couple years older than Maddie and Gracie, she was the town’s self-appointed matriarch. When Mary Beth spoke, people listened. She ruled her husband, Tommy, and Revival, with an iron fist.

  Maddie and Gracie promptly stepped away and murmured contrite apologies.

  Mary Beth snapped her Juicy Fruit gum while she framed the cupcakes with her hands. “That’s better.” She craned her neck and called out, “Danny, come over here and take some pictures before it all goes to hell.”

  The local photographer, Daniel, a cute guy with scruffy brown hair and soulful eyes, who had graduated with Sam, hustled over. Mary Beth pointed to the display. “Make sure you get plenty of shots, and don’t let Tommy sneak out of getting his picture taken. You know how he is; the big dumb jock hates publicity. If it wasn’t for me this place would have collapsed to the ground ages ago.”

  She issued a series of orders that had Daniel looking scared before she finally put him out of his misery and turned back to Maddie and Gracie. “What is going on over here?”

  A bloodhound for gossip, Mary Beth could sniff out a story a mile away. She’d missed her calling. She’d be right at home as an investigative journalist in Washington. She’d wipe out corruption in less than a year.

  Gracie shook her head. “Not a thing.”

  “Gracie’s got a secret,” Maddie said at the same time.

  Mary Beth narrowed her razor-sharp blue eyes on Gracie. “A secret, huh?”

  “I think it’s a guy,” Maddie offered, oh so helpfully.

  Gracie huffed with dramatic exasperation, glaring at her friend. “It is not a guy.”

  Mary Beth nodded, ignoring Gracie completely. “She does look tired.”

  “Because I’ve been up since five making your cupcakes,” Gracie said, her tone droll.

  “And she was in Chicago this weekend.” Maddie made air quotes. “By herself.”

  “I went to a spa.” Okay, the whole thing was a lie, but Gracie had her reasons for not sharing. And if she confessed, it wouldn’t be in front of Mary Beth.

  Mary Beth snapped her gum. “What happened with Bill, the football coach?”

  “No chemistry.” Not a lie. They’d had a nice, pleasant date that ended with a nice, pleasant peck on the cheek. He hadn’t called and neither had she.

  “I have another guy in mind, then,” Mary Beth said. “He’s perfect for you. He drives a Harley, kicks ass, and beats his chest like Tarzan. He looks like sin and is a cop in the next county. He’s just your type. I’m trying to get Charlie to recruit him and you’ll be a perfect incentive.”

  A couple of weeks ago that description would have made Gracie weak in the knees, but now sounded awful. The only thing making her weak these days seemed to be the professor, whom she was supposed to be forgetting about. Gracie waved a hand through the air. “No, thank you.”

  “Why?” Mary Beth shot the word out like a
bullet.

  “Is not wanting to be the local recruiting tool enough?”

  “No,” Mary Beth said.

  Gracie shrugged. “Not interested. I’ve got too much going on.”

  Mary Beth and Maddie exchanged knowing glances, and said together, “It’s a guy.”

  “Just because I don’t want to be set up on a blind date doesn’t mean there’s a guy,” Gracie said, but they weren’t listening.

  Maddie focused on Mary Beth, ignoring Gracie completely. “But why is she hiding him?”

  Mary Beth’s brow furrowed. “Who does she know in Chicago?”

  Maddie gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she whirled on Gracie. “Is it Evan?”

  “No! It’s not Evan,” Gracie shrieked, and several people turned to look at her. “It’s no one!”

  “I thought I caught a spark at the party,” Maddie said.

  Gracie sighed. God help her. “You’re delusional. I wouldn’t sleep with Evan.”

  Mary Beth’s mouth curved down. “Whyever not? He’s a hottie.”

  “He’s also a man-whore,” Gracie said, raising her gaze to the heavens. Get me out of here.

  Maddie snapped her fingers. “It can’t be him, he played in Miami this weekend.”

  Mary Beth studied Gracie. “Then who is it?”

  “It’s no one,” she insisted.

  “Did you meet someone at the engagement party?” Maddie asked.

  “Can we stop this?” Gracie shook her head.

  Maddie laughed. “At least I know it’s not James.”

  Gracie had to clamp her jaw shut to keep from blurting, Why not James?

  This caused Mary Beth to burst into a hysterical cackle. “Can you imagine? Talk about oil and water.”

  “It’s no one,” Gracie said with absolutely no vehemence. She worried her bottom lip as the two women carried on.

  Her friends were merely confirming what she already knew. There was no need to get defensive. He was wrong for her. Everybody knew that.

  They were oil and water, just like Mary Beth said.

  But, if that was true, why did she want to talk to him so badly?

  James sat on his bed and stared at the phone, aggravated to find he felt like a teenager calling a girl for the first time. An odd sensation, considering he’d never actually called a girl when he’d been a teen, so he could only guess that this was the emotional equivalent. Which was ridiculous since he was a grown man and far past his adolescent insecurities.

  Or so he’d thought, until Gracie came along and messed up his head.

  Ever since his talk with Jane he’d planned on calling Gracie and getting things straightened out, but now that the time had come he couldn’t help wondering if Jane was wrong. Gracie wasn’t like other women, so maybe she saw things differently than Jane and Amanda.

  Even if the end result wasn’t favorable, he needed to find out for sure. On a deep breath he picked up the phone and dialed.

  Gracie answered on the third ring, breathless.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” James asked, pleased at his steady tone.

  There was a moment of silence where he thought he heard her swallow, but that must have been his imagination. “No, I just got into bed.”

  Not too long ago she’d been stretched across his white sheets, naked and wanting. He gritted his teeth to quell the memory and stay focused. “Why are you breathless?”

  “Why are you calling?” she shot back without any hesitation.

  Not willing to answer questions. Which left only one thing for him to discuss. “I spoke with Jane today and she said some interesting things.”

  “What’s that?” Gracie’s voice hitched again, but he let it slide.

  “Let me start our last conversation again.”

  “Okay.”

  His reluctance to be honest about what he wanted after his weekend with her made him acknowledge Jane had been at least partially right. Self-protective and unsure, he’d played his cards too close to the vest. So close, he hadn’t been able to read them until Jane pointed it out. But that was cowardly behavior and unacceptable. He’d lay his hand down, and if Gracie rejected him, so be it. He’d get over it. He’d gotten over his youth and his father’s death. He could get over her.

  He shifted, propping himself up against his headboard. “When I invited you to spend the weekend, I assumed by the end we’d be so sick of each other it would be easy to say good-bye. But when the time came, I found that wasn’t the case. I didn’t want you to go, Gracie.”

  She sucked in a breath, making that little gasping sound that drove him crazy. “You didn’t?”

  “No, I didn’t. I’ve been informed that wishing you a safe trip might have given you the impression that I didn’t care, but I can assure you that’s not the case. We conveniently avoided discussing the end of the weekend, and because I wasn’t sure where you stood, I said the first dumb thing that popped into my head.”

  “We did avoid it.”

  “Yes, we did.” So far the conversation was going better than he’d expected, so he plunged into the deep end. “You asked me what I wanted, and I said I didn’t know, but that’s not true. I’d very much like to see you again.”

  There was silence over the line and he glanced at his screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. Still connected, he put the phone back to his ear.

  She cleared her throat. “That sounds very proper.”

  Vexing woman. He dragged a hand through his hair. “Fine. I can’t live without fucking the hell out of you again. Is that better?”

  “Is it the truth?” Her voice all warm and husky, he relaxed marginally.

  His own voice dropped. “Yes. I’d drive down there now for a chance to be inside you.”

  “So you liked the sex?”

  “You’re fishing,” he said, his tone exasperated, but he smiled, feeling better than he had all day.

  “Damn straight I am,” she said, amusement clear in the lilt of her tone.

  “Are you going to make me suffer?”

  “Yes.”

  His smile grew wider, into a full-fledged grin. “The sex was phenomenal, baby girl.”

  “I like when you call me that.”

  “I know you do.” Determined to be entirely honest, even though he could easily keep talking about their physical chemistry, he said, “If it was just sex, it would be easy, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even more than you being in my bed, I liked being with you. I liked you in my house. I liked talking to you. And I like how you make something ordinary, interesting.”

  There was silence over the line.

  He waited.

  She said nothing.

  Finally, he prompted, “Gracie?”

  “I’m here,” she said, her voice sounding hoarse. “We should end things now before anyone gets hurt.”

  He clenched his hand into a fist. “Is that what you want?”

  There was a long, heavy silence. “Mary Beth tried to set me up on a blind date today.”

  Over his dead fucking body. The vehemence of his emotions startled him. Carefully, he asked, “And?”

  “He sounded exactly my type,” she continued with absolutely no mercy. “But I said no.”

  The relief swelled but didn’t quite break. “Why’s that?”

  Another pause. “Because of you.”

  He relaxed for the first time since he’d decided to call her. He wanted to reach through the line and touch her. “I’m not sorry. I have no idea what we’re doing, but I want to see you again.”

  “Me too,” she said.

  “You’re coming to Chicago in a couple of weeks. Will you stay with me?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Yes. If you’ll have me.”

  “I’ll have you so many times you’ll lose count.” Talking to her was torture. The line practically crackled with the sexual tension between them. “It seems our plan has backfired.”

  “What do you mean?”

&nbs
p; “Sex was supposed to alleviate the tension, not increase it.”

  A breathy little moan. “It’s your fault, Professor.”

  “How’s that?” His muscles finally relaxed now that he knew he’d see her again. Have her. Taste her.

  “You were too good.”

  Primal male satisfaction seeped into his bones at her words. “So I shouldn’t have given you all those orgasms?”

  “Now who’s fishing?”

  He laughed, adoring everything about her. “Not willing to throw me a bone, are you?”

  “Not today. Besides, I’m not sure you need it. I’m sure all those female students of yours fawn enough for the rest of us.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t be silly.”

  “You don’t think your students are in love with you?” Her voice so low and intimate he wanted to sink into the lush sound of it.

  He put his hand behind his head, happy to be talking to her, content this wasn’t the last time. “Not at all.”

  “Please, I bet they all are.”

  “Highly doubtful. I maintain firm boundaries. And anyone who gets another idea is sternly rebuffed.”

  She laughed. “Sure, because no girls have stern-professor fantasies.”

  “Do you have stern-professor fantasies?”

  “Of course, all women do,” she said, her tone light. Teasing.

  She was playing, but he wasn’t so sure it was a joke. He’d paid attention. She liked aggressive. Assertive. Demanding. He wondered how far those fantasies traveled and if she’d let him in enough to find out. He put a hard edge in his voice. “I don’t care about all women, I care about you.”

  Nothing over the line but the quickening of breath. Finally she said, “And what about you? What’s your fantasy?”

  She’d diverted, but maybe that was because she felt vulnerable. Maybe if he opened up, she would too. “Do you really want to know? Because I’ve never told anyone.”

  “Yes, please,” she said, oh-so-sweetly.

  “Well, aren’t you a good girl.”

  She moaned, and he grinned. She definitely had themes. “Tell me.”

  If he was going to do this, he wanted to do it right, but it didn’t stop the embarrassment. And it was embarrassing. It also happened to be the truth. “It’s silly. So don’t get too excited.”