To Win Her Love (8 page)

He cleared his throat. “I thought I might stay here at the farm, if that’s okay with you girls.”

Angel’s back went as stiff as a poker.

Charlie squealed with delight. “Like a sleepover?”

A strained smile pulled at his lips. “Something like that.”

“Oh, yes!” Unable to contain her excitement, Charlie clapped her hands. “A sleepover, Angel. Jake is going to stay for a sleepover.” She stilled suddenly, wary eyes sliding his way. “We can call you Jake, right?”

He nodded and some of the strain left his smile.

“Are you going to stay for breakfast? We’re having pancakes.”

He glanced at Gracie. “I heard that somewhere. Actually, I thought I’d stay longer than one night.” He turned back to the girls and surprised Gracie by repeating, “If it’s okay with you and your sister.”

Charlie bobbed her head in a pleased nod. Angel remained stoically silent on the subject. Gracie squeezed her shoulder in a hug.

“Okay, munchkins. It’s way past bedtime. Upstairs you go.”

Angel turned without a word and headed for the stairs. Charlie frowned, a sure sign of imminent mutiny.

Jake cocked his head. “I’m a little tired myself.”

Mutiny averted, Charlie walked backward, following her twin. She offered Jake a shy smile. “I like having a big brother.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed on a swallow as he rose from his crouch. “I….” He nodded. “I think I’m going to like having little sisters, too.”

Then he winked, and Gracie rolled her eyes at the blush spreading across Charlie’s cheeks. Small white teeth flashed in her beaming smile before she turned to race upstairs after her sister.

Jake puffed out his cheeks on a harsh breath. Turning his head, his narrowed gaze paused on Murphy before lifting to tangle with hers. “Is he yours?”

“Yes.” She tugged the dog back a step and patted his shoulder. “His name is Murphy.”

The low grumble of his voice held a distinct warning. “His name will be mud if he ever head butts me again.”

He was threatening her dog? So much for their truce.

She gave a defiant lift of her chin. Oblivious to her returning anger, Murphy barked happily, his wagging tail thumping her thigh. He lunged against her hold. Jake’s brows dipped as his stare slid into a warning glare.

Oh, bullshit. If he’s going to accuse me anyway…

She let go of the dog. He leapt forward. She had the satisfaction of seeing Jake spin to his side, lifting one leg over his crotch in protection, but then he deftly grabbed Murphy’s collar, stopping him short with an outstretched arm.

Green eyes, as cold as sharply cut emeralds, sliced her way. A glaring Jake Malone was downright intimidating and gave her a new empathy for those opposing lines he faced every week.

Instinct demanded she take a step back. She scoffed mentally. This wasn’t pro football and brains, not brawn, would win this particular competition. She crossed her arms, silently insisting the move wasn’t one of self-protection. “Please. He’s a dog. The head butt was an accident.”

His fingers still gripping Murphy’s collar, Jake moved with a speed she should’ve expected, considering his exploits on the field. He stepped forward, crowding her until she quivered with the need to step back or chance their bodies touching.

“Maybe the first time was an accident, but letting him go and hoping it happened again wasn’t.” He lowered his head until they were nose to nose. “Be careful, darlin’. Control your bloodthirsty fantasies
and
your dog. If you don’t, you won’t like the consequences.”

His woodsy spice cologne must be short circuiting her brain because, instead of poking him in the chest and telling him to go to hell, here she stood, mesmerized by the light striations in his sparkling emerald eyes. Her nostrils flared at his clean, male scent, and she bit at her lower lip.

She blinked when he dropped his gaze to her mouth. Oh, dear Lord. She’d never actually witnessed a man’s pupils dilating. With undisguised male awareness? Oh, hell. Her mouth instantly went desert dry, and her pulse shot into overdrive.

Snap out of it. Intimidation is his game, not seduction.

She swallowed with an audible click, and thankfully, he raised his head before she could do anything stupid—like lift her mouth the mere inch necessary to find out what it would be like to taste him.

To hell with brains. When dealing with an overload of brawn and sex appeal, retreat was self-preservation’s best friend. She followed her initial instinct and took a wide step back.

Dimples formed along with his slow, satisfied smile. He held her gaze as he bent to scratch at Murphy’s head with long fingers. “You’re going to have to watch that head, buddy. We’re outnumbered around here. We guys need to stick together.”

Murphy quivered with pleasure, adoration shining from his dark eyes. Jake’s soft chuckle skittered over her rattled nerve endings, leaving goose bumps. Apparently he wasn’t averse to claiming a little tit for tat, either. The sneaky jock had been trying to intimidate her, all right, and he’d succeeded. Well, if he thought she’d let him get away with it again…

God, it was going to be a long three months.

With the girls off to school the next morning, Jake returned upstairs to do…God knew what. Go back to sleep, probably. That worked for Gracie. Out of sight and all that.

Having apparently taken her demand they share duties to heart, he’d wandered into the kitchen at six oh five, his eyelids drooping with fatigue. She considered it a bad sign she found the cowlick causing his thick hair to stand up on one side adorable, and the rough shadow of beard darkening his strong chin incredibly attractive.

She tried not to stare as he offered Mary his assistance with the breakfast preparations, but geez. Who knew a glob of pancake batter smeared on a man’s tattered T-shirt would only enhance his masculine appeal? A barefoot Jake, flipping pancakes in rumpled jeans and a T-shirt, gave a whole new meaning to the word sexy and was a domestic vision she wouldn’t soon forget.

The following half hour had been an exercise in tension. Angel shifted anxiously in her chair and Jake’s discomfort had been evident in the nerve jumping along his jaw. Charlie and Mary hadn’t seemed to notice. The housekeeper held court over the meal as she always did, as if this morning was no different than any other at the farm. As if Pete’s son hadn’t taken up the position where Pete always sat.

Gracie had to give Jake credit. Having made the decision to adhere to the demands of Pete’s will, he was making a concerted, if somewhat stilted, effort. Despite his obvious nerves, he was still Jake Malone, a man known for his ability to charm. Looking like he hadn’t slept a wink, he set about using that charm, attempting to draw the girls into conversation by inquiring after their likes and habits. Charlie soaked up his attention like a sponge. Hanging on his every word, she jabbered like a magpie in response. Angel refused to cooperate, pushing bits of pancake around on her full plate in stubborn silence.

Gracie wasn’t sure if his interest was real or if her warning last night had sunk in. Only time would tell, but witnessing the adoring animation in Charlie’s eyes, and the occasion flashes of interest Angel couldn’t quite hide behind her distrust, Gracie’s mood went from sour to gloomy. As hard as the fact was to swallow, Jake was here and, considering his competitive nature, he’d play to win. Which meant he wouldn’t be going anywhere.

He’d made it clear he had no interest in a ready-made family, and he certainly didn’t need Pete’s money. What was he after? If his seeming desire to get to know the twins was sincere, what happened when the three months were up? The girls choosing her wasn’t a foregone conclusion. What would happen if he won the custody battle? He claimed he wouldn’t walk away, but what did that mean? What if he handed the girls off to a stranger and went back to his famous life? Her heart would be broken, and his abandonment would be one too many blows in the girls’ young lives.

Confused and disheartened, she spent the morning working, relieved he’d disappeared upstairs the moment the girls’ school bus pulled away.

The beauty of her web design business was the ability to work from anywhere. All she needed was her laptop and some peace and quiet. The farm delivered the quiet. Peace was more difficult to achieve, however, since her mind kept supplying an image of the man upstairs, his muscled body sprawled across the sheets in masculine relaxation.

Out of sight, my ass!

Losing herself in the world of bits and bytes wasn’t as easy as usual this morning, but she eventually pulled it off. Too soon, reality intruded in the form of several afternoon appointments. She wandered into the kitchen for an early lunch before heading for the city. Murphy trotted over to investigate his bowl. She set her laptop case on the corner of the table and piled her coat and purse on top.

Seated at the table eating her lunch, Mary frowned her displeasure when Gracie bypassed the hearty soup simmering on the stove to pull a cup of yogurt from the fridge. She grinned, tearing off the lid, and dug in with a spoon as she dropped into a kitchen chair. Digging her cell phone out of her purse one-handed, she punched in the number for the local taxi service. A woman dispatcher answered after a single ring.

“Good morning, I need a—” Gracie’s mind went completely blank when she looked up and found Jake filling the doorway.

Gone was the sexily mussed sleepyhead from this morning. Dressed in fresh jeans and a dark, collarless sweater, he stood hip cocked with the bomber jacket he’d arrived in last night slung from a crooked finger over one shoulder. The adorable cowlick had been tamed, but his thick hair still sported a slightly wild appearance, brushing against his collar in a glossy, shaggy mane. This morning’s stubble had been scraped away leaving a slight shadow on his cheeks and the cleft creasing his chin. Clear as a spring dawn, his green-eyed gaze started at her feet and slid slowly up her body before settling on her face.

The X girls bolted to their feet in a standing ovation.

“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.”