Wound Up (13 page)

Something shifted inside Justin, something he hadn’t expected. He’d wanted the people around this table to approve of Grace, and now he was sure they did. That only made him more determined than ever to gain her willingness to take a chance on him, to trust him, not just physically but emotionally.

The way she’d looked when she’d walked through the door said she’d given emotional control over to someone—the
wrong
someone. That person had stolen the color from her cheeks, robbed her of her confidence. He wanted to give it back to her.

Grace slid onto the stool Cass offered and fell into easy conversation with the other woman. Something quiet moved through Justin. She was amazing. Brilliant. Beautiful. And he only knew one way to convince her what he was experiencing was absolute truth.

Stepping up to the chair, he slid his hand under Grace’s mass of hair and gripped her neck, angling her face toward him even as he leaned into her. He didn’t ask for permission. He didn’t offer excuses. He wanted her to know how desperate he was for her, how incredible she was to him.

There were teeth and tongues and short breaths, all mingling as he struggled to offer her some measure of selflessness. Because in the midst of the kiss, one thing had become crystal clear to Justin.

Grace Cooper was the woman for him.

13

G
RACE
BARELY
REMEMBERED
to breathe. Justin’s kiss did that to her. Part of her wanted to protest and demand he stop, but that voice was so tiny compared to the singular chorus of “Yes!” every other part of her was singing.

Heat flooded her pelvis and she swiveled to face him, opening her legs to settle him between her thighs. Her hands framed his face to offer far more support than direction. She wasn’t sure he noticed.

His tongue plundered her mouth, aggressive and demanding.

She sighed, relaxing and letting him control the moment entirely. Giving up control was an experience in itself, one that left her craving his control in a more intimate way. She suddenly wanted it all from him, and maybe that was wrong. She wasn’t sure. All she knew for certain was that the man in her arms burned as hot for her as she did for him. And that’s what she’d needed tonight.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, his hands on the upper swells of her hips. “Hi.”

Her voice evaded her. She cleared her throat and then coughed. “We went over this greeting thing you’ve got going on, Dr. Maxwell.”

“We did. I wondered if you’d remember.”

“It was fifteen minutes ago. Did we ever decide who greets like this?”

“I believe it was decided we do.”

She fought not to smile and failed. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

“You didn’t. I decided for us.” Justin glanced at Cass. “Give us a minute?”

“Gentlemen, I need a drink from the bar and it’s going to take all three of us to get it. Move that fine ass, Levi,” she sing-songed when he lagged behind.

Alone, Justin faced Grace. “I want you.”

Eyes sparkling, she cocked her head. “Seems like a very public venue. Wait. Don’t tell me. You’re secretly an exhibitionist who’s been waiting to come out to his friends, and I’m just the girl to help you do it.”

“Well, I
am
a stripper...” He traced a thumb along her jaw. “No. No jokes.”

Her brow furrowed as her smile faded. Confusion fogged her mind. “I don’t get what you’re after here.”

“I want you, Grace. That’s no secret. What if we tried exclusivity?”

“Exclusivity,” she parroted through lips gone numb.

“Yeah.” He traced a finger down her neck to her collarbone, leaving a blazing trail against her skin. “You know—you plus me equals us.”

Stunned, she said the only thing she could say. “This is fun, Justin. I’ll give you that. But there is no ‘us.’”

“There could be.”

Her heart ached at the sincerity in his voice, and she suddenly regretted coming out tonight. She’d just said she wanted this, wanted someone to offer her refuge—but it couldn’t be him. She refused to stay in Seattle, and he wouldn’t leave.

So she’d keep him at arm’s length. There might be a few kisses and such, but there wouldn’t be anything more. After the scene with her mother, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into his arms and stay there forever—nothing more than to run as fast as possible from the emotional wasteland she’d been born into.

Angry tears burned the back of her throat and forced her to swallow them down. Shaking her head, she looked up at him, allowing herself the momentary luxury of being able to touch him without apologies or fear.

So why let this go?
her conscious whispered.
When has anyone ever offered you a couple of weeks of unmitigated happy?

Impulsiveness crashed into her like a twenty-car pileup. It didn’t have to be a choice. She could seize the moment, take what he offered, give what she could in return and then go. All she had to do was take a page from his book and set ground rules for the days they would spend together. “If you want to have a little fun over the next couple of weeks, that’s great. But after that? I’m gone. I have to make a clean break, get out and start living, start fresh. I can’t do that in Seattle.”

A fine tremor ran through him, crossing every point of contact between them. “A little fun for a couple of weeks, huh?”

“You make it sound unappealing. That’s not the way I meant it,” she said, hurt warring with anger in both her voice and heart. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not ‘fair’ is you taking my offer of something more and twisting it around. I won’t settle, Grace. Not for less than what I deserve.”

“Deserve, huh? And you deserve more than me. Nice.” She stood and grabbed her messenger bag.

“Uh-uh. You don’t walk out on me a second time.”

“This isn’t like before. This time I’m walking out on you for good, Justin.” She started for the door, irritated when he followed her. Spinning, she slapped a hand against his chest. “Cut it out. I’m not into causing scenes.”

“Stay. Argue with me, Grace. We’re worth it. Please.”

The plea sliced through her like piano wire through skin—efficient and painful. “Justin—”

“I’m not above begging. It’s just...” He swallowed hard. “I don’t want less than a real shot, Grace.”

She arched a brow. “What about the ‘I’m not settling’ diatribe you loosed on me seconds ago?”

He reached out and took her hand, and a small jolt of awareness made her eyes snap to his. “I would never consider a relationship with you to be ‘settling.’ Give me two weeks to convince you this thing between us is worth trying.”

“You have nine days, and no promises. My friend Meg called just before I got here. She passed my résumé on to her new boss in Baltimore. They’re interested. If the opportunity is there, I’m going to take it.”

He gave a stiff, hard nod. “Fine. Nine days.”

“And if it doesn’t work out, I don’t want to lose your friendship. Promise me that, Justin.”

“All I can promise is that I’ll do my best to honor your request,” he said softly. “But if you break my heart? It might be a while before I’m up for sitting down to chat over coffee.”

If you break my heart.
Her stomach plummeted, achieving terminal velocity in record time considering she was five-nine. She didn’t want to hurt him, had never in a million years considered she might be in a position where she could. How quickly things changed. The one constant was that she wanted him. Badly. And this might be her only chance to have him. Holding on to that thread of impulsiveness that was fast fading, she looked up and nodded. “I understand.”

“So you’ll give me nine days to...” He trailed off, clearly waiting for her to finish the sentence.

Her hand went to her throat, gently massaging the tightness that threatened to strangle her.
How to finish that sentence?
Too many options, but only one real answer. If nothing else, Grace wanted a piece of happy. She wanted moments to look back on that colored the start of her life in brilliant swaths, not the dismal grays and blacks of the life she’d been born into.

Her gaze locked on his. “I’ll give you nine days to convince me that giving this thing a shot is worth the risk.”

And that was it, right there.
The risk.
So many things could go wrong, so much could happen that would make this thing between them pull a Hindenburg and go up in spectacular flames.

She wouldn’t think about that last, though. As long as she maintained her sanity while Justin—she swallowed hard—pursued her, she’d be able to ensure nobody got hurt in the end. And it
would
end.

Still, the idea of him pursuing her was so ludicrous after the past three years that she couldn’t help but smile.

“What?” he asked, automatically smiling in return.

“Did you ever think we’d find ourselves here?”

“Here?”

“You know.” She waggled a hand between them. “Here. With you trying to get me to give this a shot?”

“No, but I’m damn glad we’re standing where we are.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve stared at you for years, Grace. I’ve been hungry for the sound of your laugh. It makes me feel a hundred feet tall. Invincible, even. Because I’ve wanted to know what you think about in the middle of night when you can’t sleep.” He stepped toward her and slid a hand around her waist, encouraging her to step in to his body. “Because I love the way you fit in my arms.” He lowered his lips to brush over hers as he spoke. “Because I love the way your lips feel against mine.”

He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue until she opened to him. Then he kissed her. Thoroughly. Breaking away, he ran his free hand through her hair and gripped her head, forcing her to continue to look at him. “Because I love the way you taste.”

“That’s a lot of—” she nearly choked “—love.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “It is.”

Knowing he was falling for her scared her to death. She’d agreed to the next nine days believing she could pull it off without anybody getting hurt. But was that possible knowing he was already so invested?

What had she just done?

* * *

J
USTIN
WANTED
TO
loose a triumphant shout...right after he threw up. He’d managed to get her to agree to give him nine days—and he fully intended to make the most of every second to show her how much she could be loved. That last was the vomit inducer.
Love.
He’d been crazy about her for years, but love? That took time, intimate time, they didn’t have. The most he could do was set them on the right path and hope she recognized it.

Guiding her to the table, he took her bag, surprised at the weight. “What have you got in here? Hockey gear?”

“Change of clothes. It takes a lot to be a proper woman,” she said primly.

“Lord knows that’s right,” Cass added, slipping into the chair beside Grace and sliding a drink her way. “I thought you might want this.”

Justin watched the emotions play across Grace’s face before she responded. “Thanks. I, um, I don’t drink.”

“My bad.” Cass slid the drink to her place and stared at it, frowning. “It’s frozen, which means I have to drink both it and mine.” She looked up, grinning. “Unless Levi wants it.”

“Are you insane?” the man asked, indignant. “I drink a girly drink like that and I’ll grow breasts.”

“Just think, man,” Eric said with a wicked grin. “You could stay home and play with your own pair instead of having to find a new set every night.”

Levi chucked the lemon from his drink at Eric and grinned. “Yeah, but I like to play with other parts of a woman, too. I’ll pass.”

“Fine.” Cass sighed before taking a long pull on her straw, sucking down a good bit of her daiquiri. “Oh! Oh, crap! Brain freeze!”

Everyone laughed as she gripped her head and alternated between cursing and laughter.

The band for the evening was just setting up, tuning instruments and synching the sound system to prevent the squelch of feedback that had people shouting their disapproval. They succeeded in the former but missed the latter by a mile.

Justin dropped an arm around Grace’s shoulders, pulling her close.

“Who’s playing tonight?” she asked as she snuggled into his side.

He rubbed his nose and tried not to laugh. “The chalkboard marquee outside called them something like ‘Humping Monkeys.’”

“Humpday Monkeys, you idiot.” Levi tossed the last of his drink down his throat. “Hump
day
, as in middle of the week. How is it you’re the smartest one in the group when you can’t even read?”

“Easy there, gorilla boy,” Grace snapped. “He’s a psychologist, not a zoologist.”

Levi stared at her, mouth hanging open.

Justin half wondered if he was going to have to break up a verbal smackdown because, though many weren’t aware of it, Levi was highly educated and a bit sensitive about it.

The other man shook his head. “Gorilla boy?”

She arched a single brow. “Just be glad I didn’t get into their penchant for picking fleas.”

“I usually reserve that pleasurable activity for those closest to me, and right now? You’re closest.” Levi lunged for her and she squealed, scrambling behind Justin. The dark-haired man settled back in his seat, laughter lighting up his face. “Never pick a fight with someone you can’t win against.”

“I’ve got Justin.”

Levi chuckled. “And you think the good doctor can take me down?”

Justin watched the entire interchange with a growing sense of doom. “No need to embarrass Levi, is there?”

“Nice try, Professor,” Grace said on a smile. Turning back to Levi, she slipped her arm around Justin’s waist.

His chest tightened. It was the first time she’d initiated contact just for the sake of contact. Not in a sexual way, not in response to something he’d done. She’d just touched him for the sake of touching.

She leaned forward. “Let me see your hands.”

Levi’s brows drew together but he held out a hand.

Inspecting it carefully, she looked up at Justin and nodded. The amusement in her gaze stole the last of his breath. “Grace.”

“Five bucks and a beer says the professor here can take you at thumb wrestling. One match, elbows stay on the table, no broken digits, play till one of you is pinned.”

“And whoever wins gets a kiss from you,” Levi added.

Justin glared, his fists tightening.

“Deal,” Grace said.

Justin sputtered, unable to find the words to protest.

“You had me at the free beer.” Levi rolled his sleeve up, flexing his fingers. “The kiss was just to make the professor Hulk out. He’s usually the calmest in the group, so this is a treat.”

Justin looked down at her. “A thumb-wrestling death match?”

“Don’t lose,” she muttered. “I’m
not
buying that free-range gorilla a beer. He’d ask for a pitcher. And I’m
not
kissing him.”

Justin couldn’t help it. He laughed, long and loud, even as he rolled one sleeve up. “Best reason there is not to lose. Then I’d have to kill the guy, and that would just be awkward.”

He settled his elbow on the table and squared off with Levi. Their joking and laughing had drawn attention, and a small crowd gathered around the table.

“Thumb wrestling?” someone murmured.

“Ten says brown hair takes black hair.”

“You’re on. Black hair has some serious muscle going on.”

Conversation buzzed around them, and Justin found himself unable to stop the smile that had been flirting with the corners of his mouth. “We’re going to get arrested for betting on a sporting event.”