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Authors: Jennifer Dawson

The Name of the Game (19 page)

BOOK: The Name of the Game
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Chapter Seventeen
The following morning, James came downstairs, still groggy from the little sleep he'd gotten the night before, to find Gracie working away in his kitchen. She wore a dress shirt she'd clearly taken from his closet, and a pair of black leggings that clung to her showgirl legs. Too big, the shirt dipped, exposing one shoulder and the soft skin he'd tasted every inch of. He glanced at the clock over his fridge to see it was nine o'clock. After the night they'd had, he was shocked he hadn't exhausted her completely. “What are you doing?”
She whirled around, a spatula he didn't remember owning in her hand, propping one hand on her hip. “I'm baking.”
Brain fuzzy from lack of caffeine, he nodded slowly. “I see.”
She gave him a sunny smile that made his heart skip a beat. “Your pantry is abysmal.”
He walked over to her, slid an arm around her waist, and kissed her soundly. “I forgot who I was entertaining.” He licked her lips. “You taste delicious.”
She melted into him, giving him a big, goopy smile that made her look so adorable he wanted to cuddle her close and never let go. Not ready to think about how he'd have to, sooner rather than later. “What are you making?”
“Well, I ran to that Trader Joe's and I have to say, it is even more awesome than everyone says. No wonder Maddie bemoans its loss and tried to proposition the mayor to bring it to Revival.”
He couldn't help but chuckle. That sounded exactly like his sister. “You got up early and went to the store? Didn't I tire you out?”
“You did.” She rose on tiptoes and kissed him before breaking away and turning back to her bowl on the counter. “But I'm used to waking up at five to work. I slept until seven and felt like I was back in high school.”
He walked to his cabinet and pulled down a mug, then wandered to the pot she'd already brewed to pour himself coffee. A man could get used to this. “Seven, huh? Wasting the day away?”
When she didn't answer he turned around to find her staring at him, mouth hanging open.
He cocked a brow. “What's wrong?”
“Your back.” She bit her bottom lip. “I, um, was a little aggressive.”
He laughed. She had been, and he'd loved every second of it. He propped a hip against the counter so he could watch her. “I'll live.”
“Well, technically it is your fault for driving me so crazy.” She pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, then picked up a bag of raw sunflower seeds. “You're a terrible tease, Professor.”
He flashed to a mental image of her spread out over his bed, her skin pink against his stark white sheets, her gaze glassy with passion. There was an addictive quality to her, and no matter how many times he'd taken her it hadn't been enough. And each time, he'd made sure to drive her right out of her mind, because he couldn't resist watching her. Everything about her was abandoned and wild, but she had a hint of vulnerability that set his heart on fire.
With little provocation, she could become a habit.
“I'm not going to apologize,” he said, thoroughly satisfied.
“Ha!” Her eyes twinkled, turning a vivid sky blue. “Figures.”
He grinned at her. “Don't even pretend you didn't have a good time.”
She eyed him narrowly. “You know, I never even knew you had a dimple until recently.”
“Oh yeah, I didn't know I had one either until I was in my twenties.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Too round.”
To his surprise, telling her about his youth had lightened something inside him, almost like he'd achieved a sort of peace that had eluded him before. He never brought it up in casual conversation. In fact, he'd refused to even think about it, but now he was almost joking.
Gracie Roberts had some sort of amazing healing properties.
She attempted to look exasperated, but her huge grin ruined the effect.
“You should smile more often. It looks good on you,” he said.
She poured some sunflower seeds into the bowl and started mixing with a wooden spoon.
“What are you making?”
“When I foraged in your pantry I noticed the fifty boxes of protein bars that seem to be a staple in your diet.”
Fifty was an exaggeration. He shrugged, taking a sip of coffee. “I don't have a ton of spare time and it's a pain to cook for one person. Just seems easier.”
She beamed at him. “I'm making you homemade protein bars that will ruin you forever.”
He blinked, then said slowly, “You're making me protein bars?”
“Well . . . yeah. Good protein bars filled with natural ingredients.”
In amazement, he stared at her before grabbing her by the shirt and yanking her close. “That is the sexiest thing a woman has ever done for me.”
Then he kissed her.
A long, slow, deep kiss, and she responded with complete abandon, throwing her arms around his neck and melting into him. He gathered her close and sank into her warm, lush body.
Their tongues met, tangled. He angled his head, deepening the kiss, unbuttoning the shirt to reveal her naked breasts. He cupped them in his hands, running his thumbs over her nipples until she gave him that little throaty gasp he sought.
Their breathing turned ragged.
No matter how many times he'd taken her, he wanted her with a ferocity that bordered on obsessive. Never in his life had he lusted this hard after a woman, and sex with her had done nothing to abate his desire. If anything, he wanted her more.
She moaned into his mouth, and he pushed her against the counter, careful not to ruin any of her hard work but intent on having her right here. Right now.
He ran his hands up her legs, frustrated he didn't feel bare skin. Low in his throat, he growled, then kissed her harder. More demanding. Needing to consume every inch of her.
He slid his hand into her leggings and found her already wet. He groaned. Always so damn wet.
He tore his mouth away to whisper against her lips, “Too many clothes.”
She arched into his touch. “Yes.”
“I'm going to take you against the counter.” He gripped the shirt, determined to rid her of it once and for all.
“James.” His name on her lips was a needy moan that only increased the fever racing in his blood.
The doorbell rang, ripping him out of his lust-filled haze. His attention snapped to his foyer. What the hell?
Gracie yelped, pulling the shirt closed, hiding those magnificent breasts. “Who's that?”
The bell rang again.
And then it dawned on him. “Oh no.”
“What?” She frantically started buttoning the shirt.
“Shit.” God, he was such an idiot. The pattern was such an established routine it never even crossed his mind to cancel. He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. He supposed it could be worse; it could be Shane. “It's my best friend. We run every Sunday morning.”
“You have a best friend?”
“Of course I do.”
“Well, how should I know? I never even heard you mention him,” she said, her tone flustered.
The doorbell rang again and then he heard the sound of keys entering the lock.
“Her,” he said.
Gracie was about to meet Jane since his friend wouldn't be dissuaded by the lack of an answer.
James never missed a run.
Gracie's fingers stalled on the buttons she'd been redoing. Her eyebrows slammed together. “What do you mean, her?”
 
 
Gracie was not jealous. She did not do jealous. She didn't have a jealous bone in her body.
Never had. Never would.
She stared at the beautiful, lean, leggy, caramel-haired woman walking into the kitchen. She didn't know what to name the emotion tightening her stomach that made her want to punch James in the face, but she was certain it wasn't jealousy.
The woman—James's best friend—jumped in surprise, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh!” she exclaimed, her gaze darting back and forth between James and Gracie. “I didn't know you had company.”
James shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Gracie downgraded her attack to kicking him in the shin at his look of displeasure. “I forgot to call.”
The woman dropped her bag of things on the kitchen table and planted her hands on minuscule hips. “Well, well, well, isn't this interesting.”
Gracie clenched her teeth. Did James only associate with women with less than 10 percent body fat?
James sighed, a long, exaggerated sound of a world-weary man. “Jane Conway, meet Gracie Roberts.”
Gracie jumped in surprise when Jane let out a large whoop and pointed at James. “I knew it!” Before James could respond she turned to Gracie and grabbed her, hugging her close. “It's so fantastic to finally meet you.”
Gracie patted her awkwardly on the back, shooting James a confused glance. “You too.”
Exasperated, James shook his head.
Gracie flashed to a memory not so long ago when she had accosted Maddie in Mitch's kitchen. Was this how Maddie had felt?
Out of sorts and bewildered? Gracie wrinkled her nose, not liking being on the receiving end.
Jane released her and stood back, beaming like she'd been awarded a prize. “You're even more gorgeous up close.”
Gracie cleared her throat. “I don't remember us meeting.” And she sure as hell would have remembered.
“We didn't. I saw you at Shane and Cecilia's engagement party. Of course, James refused to introduce us, but believe me, I knew who you were.”
James straightened, grabbed Gracie's elbow, and shifted her away from Jane. “Well, now that the introductions are over, you should be on your way.”
Jane laughed. “No way, buddy. In fact, why don't you both come over for lunch today and we can all get to know each other?”
Reality came crashing down around Gracie. Home. She had to get home, to her life. She shook her head. “I'm sorry, but I have to get back home. I have a long drive ahead of me.”
A drive that would give her nothing but time to think about her weekend with James. Back to her life that didn't include him. It shouldn't matter. This wasn't a relationship, they were just . . . her mind went blank. They were just . . . well, she didn't know what they were doing. And it was fine they hadn't discussed it. There was nothing to discuss. They had great sex, but they still had no future.
Jane's expression fell. “That's too bad. Next time you're in town then.”
Gracie's previous good mood gone, she mumbled, “Sure.”
“We'll see,” James said at the exact same moment.
Gracie shifted a sideways glance at him, trying to interpret his expression. Did he not want her to spend time with his friends? She was so confused. See, this is what happened when she had sex with someone and hadn't set the ground rules first. She didn't know what box to put him in.
She thought about being insulted at his desire to not introduce her for half a second, then discarded the notion. She wasn't exactly in a hurry to explain what was going on to any of her friends, although she had a good excuse, being that her friends consisted of his family members.
Jane's jaw hardened into a stubborn line. “I won't take no for an answer.”
Gracie waved her hand. “I don't have any plans for the moment.”
Jane turned to James. “Don't be an idiot.”
“Stay out of it,” James said, his voice taking on an irritated snap. “You're not invited to this conversation.”
Despite her sour disposition, Gracie couldn't help being impressed. She'd observed James around his family when they were causing a racket, and he quietly looked on them like they were wayward children. She was coming to understand he was actually quite assertive. He just didn't beat his chest about it like his brothers.
Jane stuck her tongue out at him. “Fine, be that way.” She winked at Gracie. “This is why male friends are so annoying, you know?”
Actually, Gracie did know. Quite well. She nodded. “Some of my best friends are guys. You have my sympathies.”
“God, I like you.” Jane turned to James and gave him a sly grin. “I might let Anne add her back to the list after all.”
James pointed to the door. “Go. Now.”
“List?” Gracie asked.
Jane sighed. “So you're not running today?”
“I'm not running now,” James said, letting go of Gracie's arm and ushering his friend toward the door. “You do what you need to do and I'll call you later.”
Jane started slowly making her way toward the door, but only because James was practically forcing her out. “You know I need you on my long days.” She glanced at Gracie. “Do you know how boring it is to run twelve miles by yourself?”
Gracie couldn't run twelve feet let alone twelve miles. “Sorry, I'm allergic to exercise.”
Jane started to speak, but James cut her off. “Good-bye, Jane. I'll call you later.”
“Oh, all right,” Jane said as James opened his front door.
Jane paused at the threshold, turning back to Gracie to say in a too loud voice, “It was nice meeting you. And by the way, those are some impressive scratches. Nice work, girl.” She wiggled her fingers. “Have a safe trip.”
James slammed the door on her laughing face while Gracie stood there, waiting to die of mortification. Although why, she didn't know. She wasn't normally shy, but there was something intimate and private about what she was doing with James. She covered her face with her hands. “I'm so embarrassed.”
“Don't be.” James wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “They are impressive.”
BOOK: The Name of the Game
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