To Win Her Trust (6 page)

She hesitated a moment, her lips flattening further, then snatched the envelope from his fingers with ill grace. Her brows puckered as she read the embossed label. “Paws Finishing School?”

“It’s a certificate for a week-long obedience program. I thought Walter could use some lessons in manners.”

Her gaze flicked to her dog, who was attempting to stretch his leash far enough to lift his leg on her neighbor’s rose bush. “He could definitely use some lessons in manners, but”—she held out the envelope—”I can’t take this.”

Tuck shoved both hands into the front pockets of his jeans and grinned. “A really
great
lawyer.”

She sighed. “Look. I appreciate the thought, and to tell the truth, I’ve been planning to enroll him somewhere, but—”

“Perfect. Now you’re all set.”

“But I can’t let you pay for it. Why would you, anyway?”

He waved off her question. “It’s no big deal. I won the certificate at a silent auction.” A big fat whopper if he’d ever told one, but the white lie was for a good cause. “I don’t have a dog, so if you don’t take it, I’ll just give it to someone else.”

“What about that idiot mutt you mentioned?”

He smiled. “Oh, he’s not mine. We just hang out sometimes.”

She cocked her head. A butterscotch curl escaped the knot of hair gathered at the top of her head, sliding over her forehead to wrap around her chin. His fingers tingled with the desire to tuck the glossy lock behind her ear, just for the chance to touch her.

“Why would you bid on a dog obedience program when you don’t have a dog?”

Prickly
and
beautiful. Major turn-on. His cock twitched. “It was for a good cause.”

His own.

He jerked his chin toward the envelope. “Paws Finishing School has a four month waiting list, but that certificate moves you to the front of the line.” And Gracie had laughed her ass off at the outrageous sum he’d had to pay to convince the instructor to include Walter in this week’s class. “Class starts tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” Her eyes went wide.

Yep. Eyes that can make a man forget what he is saying.

He sucked air through his teeth. “Yeah, I know. Short notice. You’ll need to arrange to be there, at least for a few of the lessons, but I can take him to the first one for you if you’ve got scheduling issues.”

“No!” Her full lower lip creased beneath the nervous scrape of her straight, white teeth before she cleared her throat. “I mean, no, my schedule is flexible.”

Instead of leaning forward and kissing her senseless like he wanted, he pressed his case. “Just think, no more pulled arm muscles. No more getting knocked on your ass.” He grinned at her narrow-eyed stare. “Take the certificate, CC. I might not be the kind to sue over a little rambunctious play, but others may not be as forgiving.”

She pressed her lips together in a tight line, but after a long moment, she nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He bent to scratch Walter’s neck. “Where are the two of you headed?”

She sighed, her exasperation clear in her jerking movements as she hefted the canvas bag in her free hand. “I have some library books to return.”

“The library, huh?” He straightened. “It so happens I’m headed that way. I’ll walk with you.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “I have the feeling you’d say that even if you weren’t.”

When she was right, she was right. His condo was in the opposite direction. He smiled.

“And if I say go away?”

“Come on, sweetheart. Cut me some slack. I’m wounded, remember?” Doubt blared at him from her steady stare. “I’ll watch Walter for you while you go inside. Don’t want him chewing through his leash and causing another incident, do you?”

She opened her mouth as if to refuse, then snapped it shut again. Jerking her head in a
come on then
motion, she whirled to her right and walked away. Tempered satisfaction coursed through him. Although the first victory in their little skirmish belonged to him, the war was far from won. Still, she hadn’t told him to go to hell.

He grinned and slid into an easy stride at her side.

She shot him a sidelong glance. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything you want. I’m an open book.”

She quirked a disputing brow. “Are you always this pushy?”

“Pushy?” He slapped a hand to his chest, fingers spread. “You wound me.”

A delicate scoff flared the nostrils of her pert nose. “I wouldn’t worry too much. You seem to be a quick healer.” Her gaze dropped to his legs. “Your limp is practically gone already.”

He chuckled. “Noticed that, did you?”

The ghost of a smile teased her lips.

Tucker two, gorgeous blonde zero.

“I knew you were faking, and it’s a good thing. I’d hate to think Walter destroyed your lucrative football career,
Tuck
.”

“You know who I am?” Disappointment warred with pleasure. He’d been looking forward to spending time with her without the specter of his fame hovering over them. Then again, if she’d gone looking for information on him, that was a good sign.

“
You
told me who you are.”

“No, I told you my name. I didn’t think you recognized it.”

She glanced away. “How could I not? I get the paper. I…read an article linking your name with that Gridiron Love Child story the press was so excited about this spring.”

His shoulder muscles bunched painfully. More than likely, she’d read more than one. The press had had a field day with Gracie and Tom in their crosshairs. Jake hadn’t fared much better, nor had Sharon, Tom’s wife. Watching his friends suffer under the scrutiny of ambitious journalists made Tuck’s blood boil. In the way of scandals, the story was old news four months later, but the gossip lingered. CC had obviously heard some of it.

Disappointment tightened his voice. “I don’t dish dirt on my friends.”

She slowed her steps. Her chin at a stubborn angle, she met his gaze, and her eyes went as cool as her tone. “I wouldn’t ask you to. I value my privacy too much to invade someone else’s.”

Damn, antagonizing her was the last thing he wanted. “Sorry, sore spot.”

“Obviously.” She looked away and resumed her clipped pace.

He sighed and caught up. “Most people don’t understand the importance of privacy to someone who’s had to deal with public interest.”

She said nothing and he studied her profile. The tension in her stiffened shoulders spoke volumes.

“But you do.” He threw out the guess.

She was silent for several heartbeats. “Yes, I do.”

Interesting. Was a brush with public scrutiny responsible for yesterday’s over-the-top reaction to the crowd of onlookers? He’d told Gracie CC was shy, but she certainly wasn’t showing any signs of shyness this morning. Reluctance yes, but not shyness. He wanted to ask why. The tight line of her lips told him he’d be wise to wait.

“What about you?”

She turned her head. “What about me?”

“It’s barely noon, and you’re taking a stroll to the library. Don’t you have a job?”

The tension eased from her shoulders. Definitely interesting and a mystery he meant to unravel before long.

“I’m an artist.” She jerked her head back toward her building. “My studio is in my condo. I make my own hours.”

“An artist, huh?” He deepened his voice to a croon. “I’d really like to see your etchings sometime.”

Though she rolled her eyes, they sparkled with humor. Point three to him. He was on a roll.

“Do you paint?”

“Some. Mostly I sculpt.”

“I was teasing about the etchings, but I would like to see your work.”

Her gaze cut to his. “Are you an art lover?”

“I’m a guy. You said your studio’s in your condo.” He grinned. “Two birds, one stone.”

Her quiet chuckle sent a spear of heat straight to his dick.

“You really are a Beantown Gigolo.”

He rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve been called worse.”

“I’ll bet you have. You’re not getting anywhere near my
etchings
or my condo.”

He widened his eyes in easy innocence. They’d see about that.

They reached the library, and she paused at the foot of the steps. The humor of moments ago disappeared beneath her steady regard. “How did you find me?”

The utter seriousness of her tone indicated her apprehension at his answer, but he wasn’t about to admit he’d bribed a public official. “A smart man knows how to keep a secret.”

Disappointment clouded her eyes, but she shrugged, as though his answer didn’t surprise her. “You must have something else to do besides babysit Walter.”

He snagged the leash from her hand. “Go return your books. Walter and I are going to enjoy a little male bonding time.” He didn’t wait for a response, turning his back on her with her dog at his side. “Come on, Walter. See that fine looking poodle with the long legs across the street in the park? She was checking you out when we walked by. Stick with me, buddy. I’ll score you an introduction.”

A laughing sigh reached his ears, and he grinned.
Point number four.

Fifteen minutes later, he sat sprawled on a park bench. Walter lay at his feet, eyes closed, snoring softly. In Tuck’s opinion, watching a fine looking woman walk your way was one of life’s little pleasures. Add sparkling green eyes and an open smile on a full mouth, and a man would be hard pressed to come up with anything sweeter. CC Calhoun, crossing the park with her wispy dress fluttering in the breeze, was a sight to behold. She didn’t stroll or strut—like some women. Instead, her hips swished in a precise clipped roll. Her purposeful gait was about as sexy a walk as he’d ever had the chance to ogle. She moved from point
A
to
B
without veering off the path she’d set for herself. It would take a determined man to throw her off course, and he was just the man for the job.

Her stride matched her attitude. From the little he’d gleaned of her, she was a serious, no-nonsense woman with a backbone of steel and just enough flashes of humor and sass to keep a man interested. Love at first sight? The jury was still out, but damn, he liked her.

She approached the bench. Walter snuffled as he woke suddenly and leaped to his feet to greet her. Brushing a palm over the dog’s wide skull, she eyed Tuck. “For a minute there, I was afraid you’d killed him.”

“I thought about it, but I’m scared of his owner. I hear she’s as mean as a snake.”

“Uh-huh.” Her smile widened and she straightened, glancing around. “What happened with the poodle?”

“She was a snob.”

Her searching gaze flicked back to meet his, and she arched a brow.

He shrugged. “Walter wasn’t impressed. She had hairy ankles.”

“Hairy ankles?”

“You know.” He twirled an index finger in the air. “Puffs of hair on her ankles and tail.”

Her lips quirked toward a smile, but she twisted them into a smirk. “I think that’s called a pom-pom cut.”

He grinned. “Yeah, well, it grossed Walter out. Right, buddy?”

The dog pressed against Tuck’s thigh in a bald demand for attention.

Tuck obliged. “He took off to chase a butterfly. She left in a snit.”

“Snit?”

Her tinkling laugh brushed over his nerve endings like a live wire.

She shook her head. “Where exactly are you from?”

“Southie. South Boston.”

“I didn’t realize
in a snit
was a common New England phrase.”

He smiled and stood. “It’s not, but Maryanne Tucker, my mom, is from Jackson, Mississippi. Once, when I was six, she washed my mouth out with soap when she heard me say ‘pissed off.’ The phrase offended her sensibilities.” He chuckled at the memory. “‘In a snit’ seemed like a healthy alternative. Mom agreed.”

She grinned, and he tapped at the prominent bump on his nose.

“Unfortunately, my friends didn’t. At first. I changed their minds.”

She snickered, and moving closer, he ducked his head to meet her humor-filled gaze. “You’re a cruel woman. Laughing at a man’s battle wounds.”

“I’m laughing at the irony of you having had your nose broken in a fight over the word snit.”

He fought off a laugh with a smirk. “I’ve been in fights caused by much less. You don’t survive childhood in Southie without a few scars.”

She shook her head. “Boys are idiots.”

A wry grin tugged at his lips, and he rubbed at the bump in his nose. No way in hell would he admit the deformity came courtesy of Angie Connors. The rough and tumble neighborhood he’d called home produced tough boys, and the girls were no slouches either.

All in all, he couldn’t complain about the progress he’d made, but she’d regrouped by the time they arrived back at her condo. Her excuse of having a doctor’s appointment, with her gynecologist no less, was a bald-faced lie, and they both knew it. He let her go, promising himself they’d tangle again soon. As he watched her disappear inside, he smiled.