To Win Her Trust (19 page)

Walter squeezed inside the moment CC opened the door to her condo. He padded straight to his toy box to retrieve one of Tuck’s old shoes, then across the floor toward Kris and Ronald. They stood with their backs to CC at the shelves holding her finished works.

“The gallery owner practically begged me to convince her. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.” Her agent ran a fingertip over
Yearning
.

Kris crossed her arms. “Obviously, CC doesn’t see it that way.”

A grunt of frustration rumbled in Ronald’s throat. “She has the kind of talent that could make her famous, but does she listen?” He looked down at Walter when the dog bumped against his thigh as he wiggled between them to grin up at Kris.

CC gritted her teeth and shut the door with a thump. “Maybe I don’t want to be famous.”

Ronald jumped and spun around to face her. Guilt stretched his smile thin.

Kris yanked the tattered shoe from Walter’s mouth and tossed it into the hallway. “Hey, Cees. Look who I found loitering on the stoop. Oh, and you’ll never guess who’s in town.”

“I heard.” She crossed the room to dump her bag on her workbench.

Her cousin zeroed in on her nose. “Then you’d better do something about that Rudolph beak. How many times has Natalie told us, ‘sun damage isn’t only dangerous, it leaves wrinkles’?”

She touched her nose and winced at the sunburn’s heat. Great. One more thing for her mother to complain over. Her gaze met Ronald’s. He struggled with a smile. It withered and died when she arched an accusing brow.

“I didn’t expect you.” Although she probably should have. He’d left several messages saying he needed to see her but, embarrassed over their last encounter, she’d been avoiding him.

Ever the gentleman, he didn’t mention the calls or the encounter. “I’m sorry to barge in unannounced, but I was hoping to talk to you.” He ran his gaze down her legs, bare under her shorts, and cleared his throat. “If this isn’t a good time, I can come back later.”

“I—”

“Don’t worry about me.” Kris gathered her laptop case and small Prada clutch from the couch. “I’ll be upstairs freshening up for dinner.” She flicked a glance at the clock on the wall. “Keep an eye on the time. You know how your mother hates to be late.” She swept from the room without another word to Ronald.

CC shook her head, crossed her arms, and turned on her agent. “What were you talking to Kris about?”

“I—”

“Don’t ever go behind my back, Ronald. I consider that type of thing a deal breaker.”

He had the grace to wince. “I wasn’t. Honestly.” His gaze slid to the empty hallway leading to her and Kris’s upstairs apartment. “All I did was mention the gallery’s offer, and she started pounding me with questions.”

Of course she had. Kris was nothing if not protective. For whatever reason, she disliked and distrusted Ronald. She probably considered grilling him her duty. “I know how pushy my cousin can be, which is why I haven’t immediately tossed you out the door.”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown up without letting you know I was coming.”

Walter nosed his favorite toy into her palm. She tossed it over the couch. “Forget it. What did you need to talk to me about?”

He cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking about what you asked me last week.”

Oh, shit.
Would this day ever end? Her proposition was the
last
subject she wanted to discuss with him. She turned her back to walk to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.
“I told you to forget that. It was a stupid idea.”

“I disagree.”

Her fingers paused in the act of twisting off the bottle cap, and she turned slowly.

His dark gaze held hers, but he shuffled his feet as if the subject made him nervous as well. “I feel awful about the way I reacted to your request.”

I’ve stepped into a nightmare.

She rolled her head back and stared at the ceiling. “Ronald, please. I told you—”

“Hear me out.” His strained smile didn’t reach his eyes when she dropped her head and met his gaze. “Your offer was honest and sweet, and I flung it back at you like an asshole.”

True, but still…

“I’m sorry. If you can forgive me…” Change jingled in his pocket as he breathed deeply. “I’m hoping you’ll give me a do-over.”

She blinked. “Do-over?” Trepidation tensed her muscles as his smile turned hopeful.

“I’d like to change my answer.”

Oh, geez. Talk about awkward. How was she supposed to explain her offer hadn’t been sweet
or
honest? She’d simply needed a man, and he was the only one she knew. Well, except for Tuck, and… She frowned. “Wait. What about the new woman?”

His shoulders rolled in a careless shrug. “That didn’t work out.”

What am I, the consolation prize?
She sipped from the bottle. “I’m sorry to hear that but, as it happens, I’ve started seeing someone.”

“Kevin Tucker?”

Surprise widened her eyes. So much for worrying their dates so far had been too anonymous to properly test her theory. She rarely read the papers and hadn’t had time to think since meeting Tuck, much less pay attention to headlines. Was it common knowledge the Marauders’ lady killer wide receiver had found himself this month’s woman? As far as she knew, they hadn’t drawn the attention of anyone in the press, but that didn’t mean some enterprising reporter hadn’t snapped a picture from behind a tree somewhere.

The possibility had her suppressing a shiver. “Yes. How’d you know?”

His brows rose as if in surprise. “I stopped by the other day, and he was here. Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he didn’t.” And she’d be asking him why the hell not as soon as she saw him.

“Strange. I asked him to.”

She shrugged off her disquiet to ask a question of her own. “If you’ve known I’ve been seeing Tuck for days, why ask for a do-over now?”

For a moment, an odd tension tightened Ronald’s jaw. Disappointment? Or was anger the cause of his clenched teeth? She dismissed the possibility even as the thought formed. Although his personality tended toward serious, in all the time she’d known him, she’d never once seen Ronald angry.

Whatever emotion she had imagined was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. Concern darkened his eyes, and yet, his words held the sharp edge of condescension. “Because I’m worried about you, CC. He’s got a reputation for using women and then walking away. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

So would she and, up until a few days ago, she might have agreed with his sentiment. Not anymore. After what she’d shared with Tuck about her father, his suggestion it was time she see Curt bristled, and she’d have to deal with that, but she no longer believed the worst of Tuck’s press. Sure, he was a player, but he was also an honorable man. She couldn’t speak for all the women he’d dated over the years but, with her, he’d laid his cards on the table straight from the start, including the fact he wouldn’t be around long term.

An all-pro wide receiver didn’t need anyone to fight his battles but, annoyed at Ronald’s blatantly disdainful affront to her intelligence, she jutted her chin. “I appreciate your concern, but you needn’t worry. I’m a big girl and, the truth is, if anyone’s using the other in my relationship with Tuck, it’s me.”

His brows popped up in surprise, and his smile was strained. “I didn’t mean any insult. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do.” She flashed her teeth in a feral smile. “Now, what’s this about convincing me? To do what?”

His strained smile went positively flat, and he held up a hand. “Don’t shoot the messenger, but the Arts Council contacted Putnam Gallery. It seems they have an open slot in the Summer Show. A single slot. I sent Putnam several of the pictures I took last week. They’ll enter another artist if you’re not available, but they want you, and they want
Yearning
.”

Walter shoved the shoe back into her palm, and she glanced down into his unblinking eyes.

Shooting him would be too messy. Let me bite him on the ass.

If only. With a half-growl, half-sigh, she slid onto her work stool and eyed the sculpture on the shelf. “No.”

Ronald moved closer. “Do you realize how important this is? The Arts Council, CC. Their influence is worldwide.”

“You know my feelings on this. No shows.”

He stopped on the other side of her bench and rested his hands on the surface to lean toward her in earnest. “Technically, this wouldn’t be your show. Yours would be one piece among dozens. There’ll be twenty-six other artists featured, including Dugan McDonald.”

Fingers of fear slashed at her like nettles. “I’d be expected to appear.” She shook her head in denial.

“An hour, CC. You know McDonald. He’s a prima donna. He’ll suck up all of the oxygen.” Ronald pushed off the bench and straightened. “We’ll be lucky if anyone notices you’re there, and you won’t be alone. I’ll be right beside you.” His dark eyes pleaded. “Leave your name out of it if that’s what you want. We’ll insist the piece be listed as Anonymous. The Council requires the artists make an appearance, but all you’ll have to do is show up, shake a few hands, and leave.”

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Please, CC.”

Her eyes popped open at his quiet plea. A note of desperation she’d never heard before made his voice tight.

“You know I believe in you, and in
Yearning
specifically, but the boost to my agency wouldn’t hurt.”

Unease tingled up her spine. She sat up straighter. “What’s going on? Is the agency in trouble?”

He dropped his gaze to the surface of the bench, and his lashes shuttered his eyes. “Not trouble, exactly. Things have just been a little slow.” He looked up. “I’m in a bit of a financial bind. Please, CC. I’ve always respected your wishes and never demanded you to do something you weren’t comfortable with, but I’m asking you now.”

She stared at him and wondered if there was more to the agency’s woes than slow sales. Her gaze flicked to
Yearning
and back. He stood there, watching her with wounded pride glittering in his eyes, and guilt slapped at her like a stinging hand. He was right; he’d never asked more of her than she was willing to do, but the thought of facing a bunch of elite strangers as they pressed her for commentary about her art clogged the breath in her lungs.

Before she fell into the depths of a full-blown attack, she slid her eyes shut. “When do I have to let you know?”

“By Tuesday at the latest.”

“Okay.”

The breath left him in a rush. “Thank you.”

She opened her eyes to spear him with a no-nonsense stare. “I said I’ll think about it, not that I’ve made a decision.”

He nodded and his lips tilted in a relieved smile. “That’s fair. Thanks, CC. I’ll be in touch.”

* * * *

Tuck straddled the poolside lounge chair next to Gracie’s and sat. “Nice bathing suit.”

She smiled and flexed her toes, her feet and legs bare below her slim business skirt and blouse. One high heel rested on its side at the foot of the lounge, the other on the ground. “I just got back from meeting a client in the city. God, how did I ever survive all those years in Manhattan? It’s a zoo.”

“Face it. You and Jake have become countrified.”

A happy sigh eased from her lungs. “Yes, we have.”

“Rednecks.” He chuckled and brought his beer bottle to his lips. A dozen feet away, the Malone twins, soaked to the skin in their matching pink shorts sets, giggled and shrieked as Murphy gave a full body shake. Soapy water flew in every direction. The dog leaped from the plastic tub to bolt across the yard, and the twins gave chase, skidding on the soggy lawn and going down in a tangled heap.

He shot Gracie a grin. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”

Laughter twinkled in her eyes. “I know. They’re a mess. They’ll
all
need baths when they’re done.”

He toed off his flip-flops and made himself comfortable. “Just toss them in the pool. Bing, bang, done.”

She shook her head and laughed. “God help your future children.”

Tilting his head her way, he sneered. “My kids are going to love me. If nothing else, they’ll be tough little buggers.” The surprised arch of her brows made him frown. “What? They will.”

“Of course they will. I’ve always believed you’d make a good father, but that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you mention kids of your own.” Her lips curved slyly. “Do you have CC to thank for your sudden enlightenment?”

“Thank or strangle,” he grumbled, then brought the bottle back to his lips. “I haven’t decided which yet.”

Her back sprung straight from the chair, and she swung around to drop her feet to the patio and fully face him. “Holy crap. I was kidding. Holy
crap
!”

He aimed the beer bottle at her nose. “If Angel and Charlie hear you using that language, you’re toast.”

Her violet gaze slid to where the twins had recaptured Murphy and were attempting to drag him back to his bathtub. The dog wasn’t having any of it. She turned back with a dismissive wave of her hand. “They can’t hear us. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Shit. He should have kept his big mouth shut.

“Baloney. Your poker face sucks. You’re easier to read than a book.”

He sat forward and jerked a glance over his shoulder, but Jake was nowhere in sight.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s on the phone. He’ll be a few minutes. Now, talk. Are you in love with her?”

Slumping back in his chair, he shut his eyes. “I don’t have a fucking clue.”

They’d spent most of the last week together, and yet he’d found no explanation for his almost gut-wrenching need to be with her. The punch to his chest as she’d shared her memories had all but destroyed his hope that a good, old-fashioned bout of sex would exercise the unexplainable hold she had on his mind and body. He had a very real fear sex with CC would only make matters worse.

“Speaking of language.”

He opened his eyes.

A happy smile tipped the corners of Gracie’s mouth. “I like her, Tuck. A lot.”

He blew out a harsh breath. “So do I.”