To Win Her Smile

by Mackenzie Crowne

  On the screen, the kid said something and Piper turned her head. Seeing her smile was like taking a fist to the gut. Wyatt fought an instinctive flinch.

  “Kip is on holiday break and spent Sunday night at the farm instead of heading straight back to Boston after the game.” Wyatt turned as Gracie spoke. “In years past, he’s always made a point to bring his father by the farm before a game at least once a season. That hasn’t happened this year, and I asked Kip why. He got all jittery and changed the subject. From his blush, I assumed there had to be a girl involved.”

  Wyatt shifted his gaze to Jake, who shook his head as if to say, what are you going to do?

  Gracie angled her chin defensively. “I happened to stop by the complex this morning and dropped in to see Jason Goodwell in marketing. Did you know his department keeps a copy of all footage shot inside the stadium?” She batted her lashes and didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, I did. What you’re looking at is the security film from outside the volunteers’ seating section roughly two hours before kickoff on Sunday. Jason and I also went back and looked at film of the seating section from every home game. Kip’s dad is in his seat for the first few games. For the Buffalo game, Piper shows up a couple of rows behind him. From that point on, Piper took over Kip’s seat.”

  They’d beaten Buffalo in a major blowout the Sunday after the photograph had first appeared in the paper. Two days after she’d made her deal with Faulkner. Holy shit. Had she returned to Manhattan after signing the papers and been there for that game as well?

  Wyatt was moving before he’d consciously made the decision to go.

  “Wait. What are you doing?” V demanded as he grabbed his coat from the closet near the garage exit.

  “Road trip.” He shoved his arms into his sleeves. “Lock up when you leave, Tuck.”

  V groaned and immediately headed Wyatt’s way. “Your last two road trips ended with bruised shoulder muscles, then a broken heart.”

  He opened his mouth but, if he’d planned to argue her point, he never got the chance. She waved a dismissive hand in front of his face as she passed. “I’m coming along to keep you out of trouble.”

  “You’re not going anywhere without me.” Sam handed his glass to Jake and followed V and Wyatt into the garage to climb into the back seat of Wyatt’s SUV. “Where are we going?”

  “Boston,” Wyatt and V said together.

  * * * *

  “I’m sorry, Wyatt. She made me promise not to say a word. To anyone.”

  Kip’s hangdog expression said he expected Wyatt to be pissed, but it was amazing what knowing how to find Piper had done for his outlook. He shook his head and bit back a grin. There was a time Kip’s loyalty had belonged unquestionably to Wyatt, but things had shifted the moment his duchess arrived in town. Not that he could blame the kid. Though young, he was still a man, and Piper Darrow’s natural charm couldn’t help but draw the male of the species in.

  “Don’t stress it, Kip. Although you would have saved me a hell of a lot of frustration if you’d mentioned you’d seen her, I understand why you didn’t.” He smiled as the kid’s shoulders lowered with relief.

  A burst of laughter drew Wyatt’s gaze to the closed door. Luck had been with them as they’d arrived at Boston College. Catching Kip between lectures, Wyatt and Sam had caused a near riot as they’d climbed the stairs to the kid’s second floor dorm. The ever-increasing voices from the hallway indicated the crowd had grown significantly in the ten minutes they’d been there.

  Wyatt ignored the noise and turned back to Kip. “But I’ve got to know. Are you sure she’ll be in the stadium this Sunday? Did she say she would be or are you simply assuming?”

  “She’ll be there.” Kip nodded vehemently. “She said she’d made a promise to be at every game and wasn’t about to go back on her word, even if you turned out to be a…” He slid his gaze to V and Sam.

  V sighed. “Go ahead and say it, Kip. We all know he deserves whatever insult she threw his way.”

  Sam scrubbed his palm over his mouth, no doubt to hide his smile. Wyatt shot V a squinted glare, but she was right. He’d gladly accept whatever insults Piper wanted to heap upon him as long as she’d let him apologize once she was done.

  He turned back to Kip. “Even if I turned out to be a what?”

  The kid’s Adam’s apple clicked on a harsh swallow. “A bloody arse who wouldn’t know the truth if it sacked you.”

  V turned her bark of laughter into a cough.

  Sam didn’t bother. His grin stretched from ear to ear. “That nails it. You’ve got to marry this woman. She’s perfect for you.”

  “She is, isn’t she?” Wyatt couldn’t contain his own chuckle as he worked out the plan brewing in his head. “You said she normally arrives at least two hours before game time?”

  “So far, yeah.” Kip shrugged. “She mentioned something about some gridiron ladies, and how if she’s already in the rafters before they show up, they’re less likely to spot her.”

  V’s nostrils flared in an affronted snort, but Wyatt’s grin widened.

  “Perfect. That’ll give me just enough time.” He winked at Kip. “I’m going to need your help, kid.”

  “Whatever you need, you’ve got it.”

  Wyatt whipped out his phone and swiped his thumb across the screen. “Just let V know when Piper arrives. I’ll do the rest.”

  V narrowed her eyes. “Who are you calling?”

  “Reinforcements.”

  Chapter 26

  Piper slid a sidelong glance toward Kip as they rode the freight elevator to the terrace level of the Marauders’ stadium. A slight frown marred his brow and his thumbs moved over the screen of his phone at Mach speed.

  As he’d done every home game for the past three months, he’d met her at Will Call but, today, he was unusually distracted. Not that she could blame him. Today was huge. In just under two hours, the Marauders would be kicking off for the conference championship. It was early yet, with only a small portion of the eventual crowd on hand so far, but the excitement in the stadium was already tense and palpable.

  She was a bit jittery herself, but her excitement was tempered by the bittersweet knowledge that today was the last game she’d be attending here in the Marauders’ complex. If…no, when Wyatt and the guys won today, they’d be off to Phoenix for the Super Bowl and the last stop in their history-making season.

  She refused to admit the hollow pit in her belly had anything to do with the thought of never again sitting in the stands to watch Wyatt play. After all, once the season was over and she’d fulfilled her promise, she could finally make a clean break from the disastrous Wyatt Hunter chapter in her life. No, the bittersweet tug on her heart was due to the knowledge that this was the last time she’d see Kip. Not to mention the “regulars” as she had begun to think of the friends she’d made among the guests of the team’s volunteers who had watched the games with her for eight of the last thirteen Sundays.

  Kip’s phone dinged and he swiped back a reply.

  Piper sighed. “Things must be crazy downstairs today. If there is something you need to get to, I can find my own seat.”

  His gaze jerked to hers, then slid away. “No, that’s okay. I’m where I’m supposed to be.” His lips pulled tight in what looked like a wince to Piper, and he shoved his cell phone into the pocket of his khaki slacks. “I mean, I’ve got plenty of time before I’m due on the field.”

  The lift arrived at the terrace level and he hurried her from the car. Taking her elbow, he led her to the left in the direction of her seat but, from the way he twisted his head to stare in the opposite direction, something else had his interest.

  She stopped at the edge of the tunnel leading to the stands and turned to him. Rising on her toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. A blush had already bloomed on his high cheekbones when she lowered to her heels.
/>   “I can’t thank you enough for the kindness you’ve shown me.”

  He shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “It was nothing.”

  “On the contrary. I know how highly you think of Wyatt. Most young men would have held a grudge against a woman who allegedly tried to harm their hero. You didn’t, and your support means more to me than I can say.”

  The blush darkened, but he held her gaze. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It just took Wyatt a little while to prove that to himself.”

  And that was the problem in a nutshell. Wyatt had needed proof while Kip had given her the benefit of the doubt from the beginning. Pointing that out to Wyatt’s biggest fan, however, would be a waste of time. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed, then smiled as he squeezed back.

  “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive him?”

  And… There went her smile.

  She stepped back and sighed. “It’s complicated, Kip.”

  “No, it isn’t. Not really. He screwed up, Piper, plain and simple, but he’s a guy.” He cocked his head and the charm he’d graced her with during those first few Sundays was there in his boyish grin. “We guys do stupid shi…er stuff when a pretty girl is involved.”

  A soft laugh escaped, and she shook her head. “There’s a woman out there somewhere who is going to give that charm you use like a weapon a run for its money.”

  A dimpled grin was his only reply.

  “I’m going to miss you, Kip. You have a standing invitation to come visit me at the manor.”

  “Really?” Surprised excitement glittered in his eyes.

  “Anytime you want.”

  He barked a sharp laugh. “That’d be wicked cool.”

  She grinned and patted his arm. “I can take it from here if you’d like to head down to the locker room.”

  “I’ll head down in a few minutes. I want to say hi to the ‘regulars’ first.”

  They continued down the tunnel, leaving the shade of the interior hallway behind. The moment they stepped into the bright sunlight, a chorus of voices greeted her from the stands. As she climbed the steps to “volunteers’ row,” she smiled at Brian McNulty, a friendly pastor of a small congregation in the Bronx. Sitting on either side of him were Andrea Cooper, a resident at New York Presbyterian, and Mark Howell, a retired construction worker from Queens.

  All diehard Marauders followers, the super fans had rallied en masse that first Sunday upon discovering Piper’s lack of understanding of the game. Picking up where Kip had left off, they’d filled in the gaps in her football education. She paused on the landing and arched a brow.

  “Wow. You’re all here early.” She was normally the first to arrive each week. Seeing them all seated already was weird.

  “We didn’t want to miss it.”

  Mark grunted as Andrea’s elbow connected with his arm. Piper shot her a questioning glance as she slid into her seat at the end of the row.

  The blonde intern’s smile held a sharper edge than usual. “We didn’t want to miss any of the pre-game stuff. It’s not every day your team plays for the right to go to the Super Bowl.”

  “That’s right.” Brian nodded enthusiastically—a little too enthusiastically.

  Piper passed her gaze from one to the next. Other than possibly Kip, who continued to hover beside her seat, she technically didn’t know these people all that well. However, over the course of three months, she’d gotten to know their expressions, whether it be sheer joy at a fabulous play or nerves over a third and long situation. At the moment, they all wore questionable smiles. The kind people employed when faced with something embarrassing and weren’t sure what to say.

  She dropped her gaze to her chest and did a quick check of her blouse to make sure all the buttons were done. Nothing wrong there. Next, she slid her fingers over her hair, but found no discernable issues with the loose braid hanging over one shoulder. Curiosity morphed into unease as she looked up again and found all four grinning like Jack Nicholson in that first Batman movie.

  “Bloody hell. Stop that. You’re beginning to freak me out.” Shading her eyes with her hand, she glared up at Kip. “What? Do I have food in my teeth or something?” She shrugged her small camera bag from her shoulder, intent on retrieving her small compact, but Andrea’s gasp stopped her.

  “Oh my.” The intern pressed a hand to her chest as the sound of bagpipes filled the air.

  Piper followed her gaze to the landing twenty rows below them. Her own gasp caught in her throat as Wyatt began to climb the steps in her direction with the rest of the Fab Five at his heels.

  It had been almost three months since she’d seen Wyatt up close. From the frantic thudding of her heart, the effect he’d had on her from the beginning hadn’t faded.

  Or his outfit could be to blame. What there was of it.

  Although all five of the men were dressed similarly, it was Wyatt she couldn’t look away from. Probably because he was the only one among the men not wearing a shirt. Or maybe not. Whether he was stark naked or fully clothed, when Wyatt Hunter was around, Piper found it difficult to focus on much else.

  And the object of her focus right now left her breathless.

  A bold blue and gold sash sliced diagonally from his shirtless right shoulder. Clipped to his left hip by a traditional broach, the woolen weave highlighted his roaring tiger tattoo and left the vast majority of his chest and torso bare. She swallowed as her gaze dropped to the kilt riding just below the ridge of muscle delineating his six-pack abs from his lean hips.

  The pale snakeskin cowboy boots on his feet weren’t exactly traditional, but it was highly improbably anyone looking at him would give a flying fig. Especially if the person doing the looking was a woman.

  But it was his eyes that held Piper pinned in her seat. Perhaps it was a trick of the sunlight playing on his shaggy blond hair but, as his grayish-green gaze tangled with hers, his eyes seemed to glow, not unlike the way they had whenever he’d had her alone and beneath him.

  She blinked and forced herself to look away…which is when she noticed the stir he was causing.

  A growing crowd scrambled up the stairs behind the players. Thankfully, quite a few of the stadium’s seats had yet to be filled, but those fans who had already arrived had noticed the developing situation on the terrace level and were watching. Those in close enough sections had abandoned their seats to rush toward the action.

  A slightly hysterical laugh burst from her throat. Of course, they’d noticed. Who wouldn’t notice four kilted men marching up the stairs led by a half-naked sex god and followed by a trio of bagpipers? Then there was…oh, good Lord. How the devil had Wyatt managed to sway Angus over to his side? And was that…? Holding on to her mother’s hand, Mandy poked her head around Tuck’s hip to give Piper a gummy smile.

  A flood of questions gushed into Piper’s mind, then flew out again just as quickly as she spotted two men lugging full-sized cameras on their shoulders. One had the lens pointed straight at her. A cry of dismay stuck in her throat as she looked up at the Jumbotron. Fifty feet wide and thirty feet tall, her pale face stared back at her.

  “Breathe, girlfriend,” CC whispered from the row behind Piper.

  She twisted her head around to stare at her friend. The other four Gridiron Girls stood behind her. “Where the devil did you come from?”

  Gracie waved a hand. “We came up through the tunnel in the next section.” She jerked her head to the seating section off to Piper’s right. “Wyatt didn’t want us spoiling his surprise, but there was no way we were going to miss his performance.”

  Piper groaned deep in her throat. “Please tell me you didn’t set this up?”

  “This was all Wyatt.” CC grinned as she glanced beyond Piper, presumably at her kilted husband. “With a little help from his friends. When he told the guys what he meant to do, they insisted on
being his backup.”

  Gracie shook her head and laughed. “They look like a chorus line of William Wallaces on steroids.”

  V chuckled, then leaned close to squeeze Piper’s shoulder. “Time’s up, Piper. Just give him a chance. Please?”

  She slammed her eyelids shut just as the bagpipes wheezed to an end.

  “I’m sorry, duchess.”

  Wyatt’s deep voice broke the odd silence filling the air around her. She opened her eyes and faced forward. He stood in front of her, his face a mask of intensity. When she said nothing, he squatted in front of her. At eye level, he held her gaze.

  “I should have trusted you. I should have trusted what I knew in my heart to be true. That you are one of the most kind-hearted, straightforward, ethically strong women I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. If I’d trusted that truth, I would have known straight off you weren’t capable of the kind of deceit you’d been accused of.”

  She didn’t make a fuss when he reached for her hand, but neither did she return the squeeze of his fingers. How could she when she was busy controlling the helpless shiver caused by his warm hand holding hers? He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and she lost the battle. It wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his touch.

  Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes and he dipped his head closer. “I know how much you hate the limelight.”

  She bit back her sardonic snort, and glanced around at close to three hundred people jammed close and hanging on his every word.

  His smile leaned toward a grimace as she met his gaze once again. “I promise, after today, I’ll do my damnedest to ensure your privacy. But, after the way I acted, I figure I deserve to stand in front of plenty of witnesses as I beg the woman I love for her forgiveness.”

  “The bigger they are…” Jamal said with a smirk.