To Win Her Heart (Players)

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To Win Her Heart (Players) Page 18

by Mackenzie Crowne


  Max laughed and ran his palm over her thigh to pat her butt. “Watching her squirm will be better than the hit man idea, huh?”

  She grinned. “Something like that.”

  “Jesus.” Tim drew her attention as he stood and closed his briefcase. “Cut it out before you make me hurl.”

  “What?”

  He straightened with an offended wince pinching his handsome face. “The two of you are doing that lovebird secret talk Tuck and CC do all the time. It’s annoying.”

  She pinned him with a squint-eyed glare, but inside, her heart did a rolling flip. She’d envied the private communication between Tuck and CC on more than one occasion, and the realization she shared the same with Max left her almost giddy.

  Tim ignored her to eye Max. “You want to let me in on the secret? Why not expose her now?”

  Max patted her butt once more before rising to his feet. “Let’s just say I’ve got a project in the works I don’t want compromised by a press fight with the Krandalls.”

  Chapter 19

  Jessi swept her thumb over the screen of her phone, scrolling through the latest of the articles that had popped up since Elizabeth Krandall had spread her lies. As Max had hoped, the one paragraph statement he and Tim agreed upon muted the furor to some degree, until the Marauders and the Hurricanes had each won their prospective conferences last Sunday.

  As Kris had predicted, the Super Bowl matchup between the teams sparked renewed interest in the story. However, the speculation and innuendo filling the sports publications this morning was tame compared to the all-out snarkiness of the music industry outlets.

  Frustrated anger clenched her teeth as she scanned Chet Bertrum’s weekly column. The Country Bugle’s resident pompous windbag feigned disappointment as he gleefully predicted the downfall of country music’s sweethearts in yet another example of talent and fame falling victim to bad choices. She jammed her thumb to the screen and squeezed her eyes shut.

  To her joy, the gap between her and Max had disappeared since his grandmother’s press conference, but with each negative article, his tension grew. For more than a week, she’d been trying to convince him the interest would wane as soon as a juicier story popped up. Today’s rash of articles blew her theory out of the water. And if Max was tense, Spence was pissed. If he’d caught Chet’s article before he arrived at the studio, today’s photo shoot should be a freaking blast.

  “Didn’t you say none of the studio crew would be on hand today?”

  She opened her eyes as Dan brought the town car to the curb in front of the studio. Following his gaze, she sighed. “What’s he doing here?”

  A shy smile on his face, Craig waited near the locked door of the building. He lifted a hand in an awkward wave.

  “I think that’s obvious. The kid has a major crush.” Dan twisted in the front seat to look back at her. “But the studio is supposed to be closed to everyone but essential personnel today.”

  She rolled her eyes. “God, you sound like a marine. It’s a photo shoot, not a top secret military exercise.”

  His teeth flashed in an arrogant smile. “I am a marine, and I’m doing my job. The kid isn’t on the list.”

  “That stupid list.” Though the threatening letters her father had been so concerned about had apparently stopped, with no more arriving in the past few weeks, her father had directed Dan to continue the practice of limiting those who had access to her studio. She could see the benefit. The thought of strangers wandering the halls of her private facility left her uncomfortable, but this was ridiculous. “Craig’s harmless, Dan.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s my job to be aware of anything out of the ordinary.” He keyed the automatic lock on the doors. “If you ask me, the kid’s a little too overeager.”

  He climbed from the car and rounded the hood. Craig hurried forward as if he meant to open her door. With a narrow-eyed, macho-man stare, Dan blocked him and grasped the handle himself. She ignored the hand he held out to help her from the low-slung seat, stepping onto the sidewalk on her own. He answered her glare with a bland smile.

  “Good morning, Miss Tucker.”

  She turned to the smiling teenager. As much as she hated to admit it, Dan was right. Craig was definitely overeager, constantly showing up at the studio or at her local appearances to offer his assistance when he should be dating or hanging out with friends, but he was also sweet. “Hi, Craig. I didn’t expect to see anyone from the crew today.”

  He fell into step beside her. “I thought you might need a gopher once the photographer shows up.”

  “That’s nice of you, but it’s a weekday. Shouldn’t you be in school?”

  He hunched his shoulders as Dan stepped around them to unlock the doors. “My first class isn’t until eleven, so I’m good.”

  She met Dan’s arched brows over Craig’s shoulder and bared her teeth in a tight smile. It was close to eleven now and the photographer wasn’t due until eleven thirty. “That’s good, but be sure to head out when you need to.” She offered Craig a soft smile. “Your parents won’t be happy if your job here is responsible for a slip in your grades.”

  At the unintended reminder of their differences in age, blotchy color spread across his cheekbones. He dropped his gaze to his big feet, and she heaved an inward sigh. An uncomfortable itch tickled the back of her neck. She hadn’t been much older than Craig when she’d first met Max and could empathize with the teenager’s feelings. The tug and pull of a healthy crush was a powerful thing. Had she been as obvious? Had Max been embarrassed by her constant and clumsy attempts to gain his attention? God, she hoped not.

  Thankfully, Alicia arrived, saving Jessi from making things worse with Craig. He said nothing, falling into the background as they filed inside and her assistant brought her up to speed on the day’s schedule. Craig left ten minutes later, without saying good-bye. Obviously, she’d hurt his feelings, but had no idea how to go about easing them. She settled in the conference room to listen to the new CD while awaiting Spence and the photographer’s arrival.

  Several minutes later, the door opened and she turned. Tugging the headphones from her ears, she lifted her chin and met Spence’s gaze. He didn’t look mad, but that didn’t mean anything. Temperamental and moody, her partner’s attitude could shift on a dime.

  Hand on the doorknob, he paused and glanced around the empty room. “Where’s Alicia?”

  “She ran out to pick up some refreshments for the photo shoot.”

  He shut the door and shrugged out of his coat. “Have you seen Chet’s article?”

  Ugh. She set aside the headphones. “Yes, I have. It’s a load of bull.”

  He tossed his coat over the back of a chair. “You know as well as I do, facts don’t always matter. What matters is perception. Chet isn’t the only one questioning what the princess of country is doing with a man like Max.”

  “A man like Max?” Every muscle in her body tensed, and she rose slowly to her feet. Hands spread on the table between them, she spoke in a deadly serious voice. “Be careful, Spence. You’re about to cross a line you won’t be able to uncross.”

  Frustration rolled off him in waves. “I’ll take that chance. I’m not about to keep my mouth shut while my name is dragged through the mud along with yours.”

  She narrowed her eyes and pinned him with an angry glare. “This isn’t about your name. It’s about me and Max. From the moment you found out we were seeing one another, you’ve made it clear you don’t approve. What I want to know is why?”

  Something flashed in his eyes. Something she couldn’t name, and the anger she’d expected darkened his face.

  His lips thinned, and his eyes sparked with temper. “Because you have a blind spot when it comes to Max Grayson. Always have. But what do you really know about him?”

  Fury flared at the insinuation in his tone. “I know he’s a hardworking, successful athlete and business man.” She straightened and her voice climbed in volume
, along with her temper. “He’s also honest and loyal, and while you may not consider him a friend, you’ve been around him enough to know that.”

  “Honest?” He shook his head. “I saw your face in Dallas, Jessi. You were as surprised as the rest of us to find out about his connection to the Krandalls. If he’s so honest, why didn’t you know who he really is?”

  She jacked up her chin. “He had his reasons for not advertising his family ties.”

  His harsh laugh was an ugly facsimile of humor. “I’m sure he did.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “People lie to cover all kinds of things. To hear his grandmother tell it, he’s little more than a thug. How do you know she isn’t telling the truth?”

  The door opened before she could blast him for believing Elizabeth Krandall’s lies. Tuck stood in the open doorway with a wide-eyed Alicia peeking around his shoulder. Cold and intimidating, his cobalt blue gaze raked over Spence before sliding Jessi’s way.

  “You okay, cuz? Everyone in the building could hear the two of you arguing.”

  “I’m fine.” Flustered, she looked at her assistant. “Is the photographer here?”

  Alicia nodded, her nervous gaze shifting between Jessi and Spence. “He and his crew are setting up in the studio. They’ll be ready for you both in about ten minutes.”

  Spence ripped his coat from the chair and jammed his arms into the sleeves. “I’m going for a walk.”

  Tuck arched a sardonic brow as Spence brushed by him through the doorway. Alicia scrambled back several steps, her teeth gnawing on her bottom lip. Her gaze shadowed Spence stalking through the control room and shoving the door open on his way out.

  “Who pissed in his cornflakes?” Tuck turned back.

  Jessi shot him a frown, then slid her gaze to her assistant. “Give us a few minutes, Alicia.”

  She nodded and pulled the door shut behind Tuck.

  Residual anger bubbled in her veins and made her voice sharp. “Why are you here?”

  His teeth flashed in a grin. “Can’t I stop by to visit my favorite cousin without needing a reason?”

  “When you’ve been out of town since Elizabeth Krandall’s news conference and you show up here the moment you get back?” She crossed her arms.

  He grunted. “Fine. CC and Gracie are baby shopping around the corner. I needed to escape, and CC mentioned you were here this morning.” He crossed the room to drop into a chair at the long conference table. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “You didn’t hear?”

  “Nothing specific.”

  Dropping into the chair across from him, she sighed. “He’s angry about an article in the Country Bugle.”

  He leaned on his elbows. “I read it, along with others. Your princess tiara seems to have tarnished.”

  She shrugged dismissively. “I never liked crowns anyway. They cause split ends.”

  His smile sharp, he studied her with steady eyes. “From the sound of it, Spence isn’t feeling as casual about your fall from grace. I’m betting Max won’t either.”

  Instantly defensive, she frowned. “None of those articles are Max’s fault. The blame belongs to his grandmother.”

  “I didn’t say he was at fault, but I know Max. It’s not like him to be attacked the way he’s been and not fight back.” His mouth twisted as if in thought. “Unless he has good reason.”

  She drummed her fingertips on the table between them and chose her words carefully. “He does, but you’ll have to ask him if you want to know what that reason is.”

  Surprise wrinkled his forehead before he narrowed his eyes in that way he did when he was up to no good. “Did I ever mention I have this great picture of you? You were eight and missing a few teeth.” Sitting back, he smiled. “I’ve also got a Twitter account.”

  She leaned in and matched his smile. “I have pictures of my own. Remember that powder blue tux from junior prom?” She laughed at his pained grimace and sat back. Obviously, Tuck didn’t know any more about Max’s past than she had, but just to be sure…. “Did you know he was related to the Krandalls?”

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  She bit her lip. With their conflicting schedules, she hadn’t spoken to Tuck in weeks, and Max hadn’t said anything about the two of them talking since the news had broken. “Are you mad he didn’t tell you?”

  Another head shake. “Nope. I’ve met his grandmother and cousin. I wouldn’t claim them either.”

  Since he was being so accommodating in answering her questions, there was one more thing she wanted to know. She dropped her gaze to her fingers, spread on the tabletop. “Does it bother you we’re together? Max and me?”

  He leaned forward and covered one of her hands with his. “Should it?”

  She looked up, and although a blush heated her cheeks, she met and held his intent gaze. “I’m a big girl.”

  “You’re still my little cousin.” He squeezed her fingers. “But, no, it doesn’t bother me and won’t, unless one or both of you are hurt by the arrangement.”

  She turned her hand up to entwine her slim fingers with his much larger ones. “I love him, Tuck. A little bad press isn’t going to change that.”

  “I know you do. I love him, too.” He pulled his hand back, and his face twisted in a frown, as if he hadn’t meant to admit that. “In a best friend, guy sort of way.”

  She grinned and relief soothed the tension that had knotted her shoulders throughout the argument with Spence. “Relax. Your masculinity is safe.” She sobered and leaned on her elbows. “Would you do me a favor?”

  Eyes wary, he cocked his head. “That depends.”

  She smiled. “Go talk to Max. None of this has been comfortable for him. He could use a friend about now.”

  Chapter 20

  Max’s overworked muscles screamed with fatigue, and sweat stung his eyes. The clock on the wall ticked off the twenty-minute mark since he’d begun the punishing workout. Grunting, he landed a volley of short, jabbing blows. A bruising snap of his elbow to his invisible opponent’s solar plexus, and he spun in a circle, snapping his leg up to shoulder level. His bare foot connected high on the heavy bag with a satisfying thud. Chest heaving, he wrapped an arm around the bag to halt its swing and wiped sweat from his forehead with the wristband on his free arm.

  “Impressive. Which one of them were you pummeling, your grandmother or your cousin?”

  Max glanced over his shoulder, not at all surprised to find Tuck leaning against the fight-ring steps several feet away. With what seemed like the whole world talking about the truth of his heritage, Max owed Jessi’s family an explanation. Tuck most of all, but with him on the road, chewing through teams as the Marauders fought for their chance at a Super Bowl appearance, there hadn’t been an opportunity. Victorious at last, thanks to Sunday’s conference championship win, Tuck hadn’t wasted any time showing up.

  “Both.” Max yanked a towel from the bar on the wall and scrubbed it over his face. “If you’re here to take a swing at me, I’m not in the mood.”

  “After that demonstration?” Tuck jerked his chin in the direction of the bag and laughed. “I don’t think so.”

  Tossing the towel on the bench nearby, Max turned to face his friend. A heavy sigh lifted his chest. “Look, you have every right to be pissed, but—”

  “Damned right I do. Turns out my best friend is a fucking Krandall. Do you know how much shit I’m going to take from my teammates?” Tuck laughed and shook his head. “But hell, if I was related to that pack of jackals, I wouldn’t admit it either.”

  Prepared for anger and condemnation, Max wasn’t sure what to say. A lie by omission was still a lie. For years, he’d kept the truth of his identity from the people he cared about and although the need for secrecy had been a valid excuse, his conscience had suffered. Needlessly, it appeared. So far, none of the Tuckers had blinked an eye at lea
rning of his deception. The only people who seemed to care were the members of the press.

  “I’m sorry, Tuck. The situation is complicated, but I didn’t keep it from you and the family out of any form of malice.”

  Tuck shrugged. “The thought never crossed my mind, and there’s no need for an apology. From what Jessi said when I stopped by her studio, you’ve got a good reason for keeping quiet.” Max stiffened, and Tuck held up a hand. “Relax. She refused to tell me what that reason is, despite my threat to tweet her third grade picture if she didn’t.” He bared his teeth in a challenging smile. “She’s got it bad, buddy.”

  Max refused to take the bait. “If you’re not here to break my nose, why are you here?”

  He crossed his arms. “CC and Gracie are on a shopping spree, cooing over baby clothes. I couldn’t take any more, and they took mercy on me. I thought we could grab a bite if you aren’t busy.”

  In his current mood, laughing over a couple of beers wouldn’t be possible. Then again, a brew—or six—might help him forget the cluster-fuck his life had become. He nodded. “Give me a couple of minutes to clean up.” He bent to pick up the soiled towel.

  Tuck pushed off the rail and straightened. “I also stopped by to collect on our bet. You owe me a C-note, my friend.”

  Max slowly straightened and fought the urge to squirm under Tuck’s victorious grin. “I never took your bet, and who says you won?”

  “Are you kidding? Jessi’s face was as red as my classic Corvette.” He snickered. “My cousin can’t lie for shit. The truth shows on her face every time.”

  Gritting his teeth, Max turned to take the stairs to his condo. “She’d skin you alive if she knew you were laying odds on her sex life.”

  Tuck’s hurried footsteps thudded on the steps behind Max. “Yeah, yeah. You gonna tell her?”

  And be found guilty by association? “No way in hell. I like my skin right where it is.”

 

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