To Win Her Love

by Mackenzie Crowne

  Adrenaline surged.

  He lifted his head and stared into her unblinking eyes. Propping his free hand on the bench beside her hip, he braced the weight of his upper body and leaned in closer. She pressed her spread fingers against his chest, but not in rebuff. Her hand lay still over his pulsing heart as if unsure what to do.

  If she was unsure, he wasn’t. He wanted to sink into her, to absorb the darkly sweet scent of her. He lowered his head, craving the taste of her until he couldn’t think straight. Her eyes slid shut. He captured her mouth beneath his. No rebuff as he nibbled and nipped then twisted his head to deepen the kiss. Her lips softened beneath his, and he sunk his tongue deep. Her fingers clenched at his sweater as she curved into his chest.

  Excitement coursed through him, heating the blood in his veins. A caressing squeeze of her shapely calf demanded further investigation. His exploring fingers rode up her knee and over her skirt-covered thigh. Another squeeze to the curve of her hip, and he dropped one knee to the floor. Cupping her bottom, he slid her forward.

  Like bellows in a medieval forge, his lungs labored when he broke the kiss and lifted his head. Oxygen became a more desperate need when he glanced down at where he rested in the cradle of her spread thighs. The hem of her skirt rode deliciously high and played peekaboo with the pale peach satin of her panties. Bared to his view, the firm, white columns of her thighs hugged his hips. His erection thickened, straining dangerously at the confines of his jeans.

  Damn. If he ever actually got her naked, he wasn’t sure he’d survive.

  She sniffed in a sharp breath, drawing his gaze. Dazed and hungry, her eyes shimmered with a matching desire. What little control he had left slipped its tether. He took her mouth hungrily. She met his desperation, pressing closer and opening her lips to give his probing tongue entrance, and…

  “Ha-choo!”

  Pain exploded, shooting out from the throbbing cartilage where her forehead slammed against the ridge of his nose. He jerked back and toppled over, landing on his ass. Again.

  Her eyes popped open. “Oh, God.”

  She immediately sat forward. He lurched to one side, attempting to dodge her reaching hand and ended up with her finger in his eye.

  “Ouch! Stop!”

  She snatched back her hand and slapped her fingers over her mouth.

  Tears leaked from his right eye and his nose was running—or was he bleeding? He swiped his upper lip with the back of his hand. No blood, but fuck! Had she popped him one on purpose? “Damn, you’re more dangerous than your dog.”

  Her blush went scarlet. He eyed her critically. The seductive siren from moments ago was gone. In her place was a woman who looked far too young for the lascivious fantasies she evoked in him and way too vulnerable. She caught her lower lip with her teeth. Horror etched her wrinkled brow.

  Shit. Was she about to cry?

  Oh, hell no. He could handle anything else, but not tears.

  The best defense was a good offense. He took a stab, hoping to prod the scrapper who’d tossed him on his ass purposefully the other day into reappearing. That Gracie would never use tears as a tool. “Playing dirty again, princess?”

  “No!” Her jaw dropped open. She snapped it shut. “I sneezed!”

  He rose to his feet, snorting. A mistake. His nose resumed its throbbing. “How do I know you didn’t do it on purpose?”

  The horrified vulnerability on her face flashed out with the immediate return of the scrapper. She narrowed her eyes and stood. “You’ll have to take my word for it.”

  He smiled inwardly. Her buttons were damned easy to press. Now, if he could find the seductive siren switch, they could get back to fanning the raging fire.

  Her lips flattened in an angry slash, and he swallowed a sigh. He was on his own in putting out the blaze…this time, but if she believed he’d back off, she was mistaken. The sexy football blogger was about to be blitzed by a pro.

  Her chest rose on a bracing breath. Before she got all worked up and started to spout off about ground rules and why that kiss shouldn’t have happened, best he remind her of her part in the passionate encounter. “Why is it every time you kiss me, I end up on my ass?”

  She crossed her arms on a strangled cough. “You kissed me!”

  He mirrored her stubborn stance, crossing his arms. “Yes, I did.” He made his smile slow and intimate. “And I plan to kiss you again, soon, but I distinctly recall your tongue in my mouth. Not that I’m complaining, but you kissed me back.”

  She angled her chin defensively. “Well, I don’t plan to ever again.”

  He couldn’t prevent his chuckle.

  She dropped her arms, doubling down on her attempted brush off. “As for why you keep landing on your ass, maybe you’re clumsy.”

  Leaning close, her stiffening flinch made him smile. He tapped a fingertip to her pert nose. “Be careful, princess. I never could resist a smart ass woman.”

  She slapped his hand away. “Try harder.” Bolting past him, she disappeared out the door.

  Chapter 16

  Jake rapped his knuckles against wood and waited.

  “Yes?” Gracie’s muffled reply came from behind her closed bedroom door.

  “It’s Jake. Can you do me a favor?”

  Silence, then, “I’m working.”

  Not for long.

  He had yet to discover what her furtive trek through the woods yesterday was about, but he would eventually. In the meantime, other than dinnertime and getting the girls to bed, she’d spent the entire afternoon and evening hunkered down in her room. Did she plan to hide herself away like a hunted animal indefinitely? The tactic wouldn’t do her a bit of good with either the press or with him. The crowd at the gate might have dwindled down to a couple of determined holdouts, but they’d eventually get their picture of his elusive housemate, and they’d continue hounding her until they got their answers and their story.

  He meant to do the same, subtly, of course.

  First, he needed to gain her trust. A tall order, but not impossible and necessary. He could hardly seduce the prickly princess if he never got her alone. From her sultry reaction to his kisses, she had no more willpower when it came to him than he did with her. Apparently, her solution was to deny the primal pull between them and run off and hide. Her strategy was fatally flawed as far as he was concerned. The gut-wrenching attraction between them was simply too strong to ignore. She’d cave. He’d make sure of it.

  No way in hell was he about to “try harder” to resist her as she suggested. He wanted her. More importantly, she wanted him. An irresistible reality. Sure, concern over complications with the girls, should the two of them become involved intimately, made her skittish, but why did a simple fling have to be a problem? They were consenting, reasonable adults. Keeping any romantic maneuverings separate from their care of the girls was a matter of logistics. All it’d take was some conscious time management…and a bit of luck. With the girls in school and Mary out of the house for a few hours, time was his friend and luck was on his side, for the moment.

  The only thing left to determine was how to convince her to give in to the helpless desire burning in her eyes whenever their gazes met. He had a few ideas on how to help her along with that. Anticipation flooded him, increasing the heavy thud of his heart. He grinned and laced his tone with a healthy dose of appeal. “It’ll only take a few minutes.”

  A soft huff. “I’m in the middle of something.”

  “Five minutes, Gracie.”

  More silence. About to knock again, a rush of satisfaction heated his blood when the door creaked open and wary violet eyes peeked through the two-inch gap. She held the door before her like a shield, her expression guarded. Murphy wedged his nose in the crack and began to whine and wiggle.

  Suddenly her eyes went wide and she gasped. “Oh, God. Did I do that?”

  “Do what?” The crescent moon slashes beneath both his eyes were his ace in the hole. No dou
bt he’d face a ration of shit from his teammates when he arrived at the sports complex later this afternoon, but their teasing would be well worth the discomfort. After all, what woman could say no to a man who wore the dual shiners she’d given him over a melting kiss they’d both wanted? Obviously, she hadn’t meant to blacken his eyes. She’d sneezed. An accident, as she’d said, but the guilt on her face was one more point in his favor.

  The door cracked open and Murphy muscled his way through. He danced around Jake’s legs, yipping happily. Rubbing a palm over the excited dog’s side, Jake kept his gaze on her. Saliva pooled on his tongue. The woman knew how to wear a pair of faded jeans and a sweater. Damn, she was an incredibly sexy package, and he was in big trouble.

  “Do they hurt?”

  The husky guilt in her voice sent a lash of fire across his midsection. His gut clenched in discomfort. Temporary discomfort, he hoped. He shrugged. “Nah. I got worse in practice last week.”

  “Ouch.” Stepping forward tentatively, she lifted a slim hand. The fingertips she brushed over the swelling, as if to take away his pain, were cool and her touch tender. Hissing between her teeth, she dropped her arm to her side. “I really am sorry.”

  He wanted to dive after her hand and beg her to continue stroking him. Instead, he cleared his throat. “So you said. About that favor.”

  “I’m in the middle of a project, and the code for this job is intense and complicated.”

  “Then a break will do you good.”

  She sighed. “Jake—”

  He didn’t let her finish. “Come on. Mary ran out to do a few things, and I can’t manage on my own.” He’d never mastered humility, and pleading wasn’t one of his strong points. He curled his lips in a hapless smile and pulled out the big guns. “Please?”

  Doubt clouded her eyes. She said nothing, studying him. Beneath the soft sweater molding her breasts with mouthwatering perfection, her chest rose and fell on an annoyed huff. “Five minutes.”

  Despite the thrill of anticipation leaving a trail of heat behind, he kept his smile bland. “You’ll need your coat.”

  As expected, she immediately stiffened. Her knuckles whitened with her tightening grip on the doorknob. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “Just out to the garage. Under the hood work relaxes me.” A flat-out lie, of course. As a teenager, he’d spent more hours than he cared to remember under countless hoods. The money he’d made doing tune-ups kept him fed when his mother was too drunk to notice there was no food left in the house. After signing his first pro contract, he’d vowed never again to get grease under his nails, but for a chance to get his hands on Gracie, he’d gladly dunk them in a vat of dirty motor oil. “I need someone to keep the engine running while I adjust the carburetor.”

  Indecision joined doubt in her eyes, and he lifted a brow. Knowledge was power, and he’d learned long ago the surest way to victory was using an opponent’s weaknesses to your advantage. In less than twenty-four hours, he’d discovered Gracie Gable was as stubborn as the day was long. Lucky for him, she couldn’t resist a challenge.

  Casually scratching behind Murphy’s ear, he pressed his advantage. “You do know how to turn a key, right?”

  The gambit worked like a charm. Her lips flattened at the insult and she lifted her chin. “Ha ha.”

  He shrugged, though he wanted to laugh. Baiting her was damned easy and highly entertaining. “Hey, you said you never learned to drive.”

  She crossed her arms. “Do you want my help or not?”

  Grinning, he straightened and stepped back. He swept out an arm. “After you.”

  Murphy scrambled after her when she disappeared back into her room then bounced back out into the hall a moment later. She reappeared shoving her arms into a sleek, winter blazer. His quick survey ran over the downy sweater beneath the jacket, down her long legs to land on today’s footwear.

  He arched a brow at the silver-studded, black suede shoe-boots. The princess definitely had a thing for sexy as hell shoes. He liked that about her.

  She followed his gaze. Her brow puckered with annoyance. “What?”

  “Nice knockoffs.”

  She fidgeted with the middle button on her jacket and dropped her gaze. “Not that it’s any of your business, but these are the genuine article.”

  He let loose a wide grin when she scurried past him and hurried down the hallway with her dog at her heels. Following them downstairs and through the kitchen, Jake snagged his coat from the hook by the back door.

  After the past few days of winter cold and weather, late fall had returned. Balmy temperatures in the low sixties and the bright sun had done a valiant job of melting away the heavy snow, leaving behind a sloppy mess of slush and mud, except for those spots where shade prevailed. The covered breezeway leading from the farmhouse to the six-bay garage was liberally dotted with patches of wet snow.

  Murphy loped over to lift his leg on a bush. Gracie hesitated at the edge of the flagstone path. Jake moved close behind her and lowered his mouth to her ear. “Those sure are sexy boots. Maybe I should carry you. You don’t want them to get ruined.”

  She arched her neck, putting some distance between her throat and his mouth and sniffed. Stepping gingerly, she tiptoed an erratic pattern through the mine-field of boot-destroying slush. He chuckled, his own boots crunching on the thin layer of snow as he followed her. She stopped short inside the garage doorway to stomp her feet delicately.

  He chuckled as she met his gaze over her shoulder, tilting her chin defiantly. “They were on sale, okay!”

  Her guilty tone made him laugh. Opening his mouth to tease her about the price of her fetish, the vision beyond her right shoulder captured his attention. Every muscle in his body went taut. Like a kid stepping into his first candy store, the breath jammed in his throat. Sexy shoes and his immediate plans for her seduction melted like the first snow of winter.

  Mary had mentioned an old Ford pickup and a Mercedes this morning, when he asked about the contents of the large garage, but she hadn’t said a word about the rest of the vehicles in Pete’s collection. Jake’s stunned gaze ping-ponged from one gleaming mass of machine and muscle to the next. As if caught up in an incredible dream, afraid to move, he froze for long seconds and waited for the vision to fade. When the dream vehicles remained, he rushed past Gracie toward the half dozen, rare classic muscle cars.

  A low rumble of covetousness rolled through his chest. He stretched out his arms to run his fingertips along the cool metal of both the sleek GTO and the Chevelle SS parked at its side. Refurbished to showroom perfection, the beauty of a midnight blue Charger and flame embossed Firebird made him moan in appreciation. The moan slid toward something near a whimper as he bent to inspect the leather interior of the ’68 Shelby Mustang and morphed into a full blown groan when he stopped in front of a candy apple red ’57 Corvette Coupe Roadster.

  Pete Thompson might have sucked as a human being, but Jake could say one thing about the old man. The fucker knew cars. The breath left him in a low whistle.

  Gracie stopped at his side. “I guess you’re a car guy, huh?”

  He didn’t look at her. “These aren’t cars. They’re metal, rubber, and horsepower dreams.”

  “If you say so.” She flicked out a hand. “This one’s pretty.”

  He shot her a disbelieving, sidelong glance. “A ’57 Vette is sexy, not pretty. About as sexy as you can get.” He tossed her a leering grin. “Gives me a hard-on just looking at it.”

  She rolled her eyes and kicked the closest tire. He winced, making her laugh.

  “Geez, you’ve got it bad.”

  His wince softened into a helpless smile. Moving around the hood, he squatted in front of the grill, pushing Murphy aside when he pushed close, looking for attention. “When I was a kid, every spring a new crop of dudes, looking for seasonal work, showed up at the ranch where I lived. Most of them drove ranch-dented pickups, but this one year, an old co
wboy rumbled up the dirt road in one of these babies.” He danced his fingertips over the chromed-out grill and shook his head appreciatively. “It was in much rougher shape than this one, but I was sixteen and a car nut. I fell in love.”

  “Huh. Sounds sort of Brokeback Mountain-ish.” She bared her teeth in a smile. “What did the old cowboy think of that?”

  He straightened and snorted a laugh. “Smartass.”

  “Just checking.” Wearing a cheeky grin, she scooted around him, opened the door and slid into the low-slung bucket seat. “You fell in love, huh? Did you ever buy one?”

  Hip cocked, he propped his hands on his hips and met her easy smile. “Nope.”

  “Why not?” She shimmied in the molded seat, glancing around the interior before titling her head and giving him a once-over. “Too big?”

  Nothing but innocent curiosity showed in her eyes, but he couldn’t pass up such a sweet opening. He crossed his arms. “I’m big, princess, but I always manage to fit. Especially when the incentive is so sexy.”

  Her smile deflated immediately. Damn. Her pretty blush sent a hot rush of blood to thicken the semi-erection he’d been sporting since yesterday’s kiss.

  “You’re doing it again.” Her blush deepened, along with her grumbled complaint. She attempted a pissed off scowl. The fact she couldn’t quite pull it off pleased him immensely.

  “What’s that?”

  “Flirting.”

  He whipped out his most charming drawl. “I sure am giving it my best effort, darlin’.”

  “Well, stop it.” She ducked her head. Popping open the glove box, she glanced at the empty pocket, shut it again and changed the subject. “This car was Pete’s favorite, too.”

  Talk about killing the mood. His smile fizzled, along with his hard-on.

  Busy fiddling with the turn signal levers, she didn’t notice. “I remember the summer he bought this one. He took it out for a spin every Saturday then spent two hours cleaning it.” A smile of remembrance grew. “Sarah would sit on the porch steps and watch him, her belly huge with the girls. She teased him ruthlessly about what the neighbors would say with him polishing his shiny, two hundred eighty-three horse power penis in the driveway.”