To Win Her Love (25 page)

Tom laughed but didn’t say a word because, well, there was no need. Jake was the first to admit the twins had grown on him, as Tom predicted. With sticky fingers, they’d wrapped their tiny hands around his heart, but he wasn’t here because of the girls. He was here because a mouthy blonde with killer legs and a ton of attitude was driving him nuts.

Tom slouched back. “What’s so important you decided to come by in person instead of calling?”

“I need the name of a good private detective.”

Tom immediately straightened. His brows beetled with concern. “Why? What’s going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Major trouble, but until he figured out what to do about the
big
girl working her magic on his previously impervious heart, he’d keep that problem to himself. “No, but Gracie is. She’s hiding something.”

Tom’s shoulders slumped when he relaxed visibly. “Why do you think that?”

“A bunch of things. Most of the time she’s as ballsy as they come.” Her smug smile as he lay sprawled at her feet on the foyer floor his first morning scrolled past his mind’s eye, followed by others. Like the evasive fear in her eyes the night she tromped through the woods or the sadness the day he and the girls trashed Mary’s kitchen. “Other times she’s like a scared rabbit, jumping at every sound.” He sighed. “Whatever is bothering her is at the heart of her refusal to speak to the press.”

“She still hasn’t spoken to them? It’s been two months.”

He shook his head. “She believes if she ignores them, they’ll eventually go away.”

“That’s a naïve attitude.”

He shrugged. “So I’ve tried to tell her.”

Tom cocked his head and rubbed a thumb over his chin. “You can’t blame her. They came down hard on the two of you after the blog thing. If they found out the Gridiron Girl is on the other side of your custody battle….”

“They’d have a field day. Yeah, I know.”

Tom chuckled. “According to V, Gracie is as stubborn as the cook’s mule back on the ranch where the two of you grew up.”

Jake winced at the unflattering comparison, but couldn’t disagree completely. There wasn’t a lot of give in Gracie when it came to the idea of facing the press.

Tom spun the ball until the laces lined up with his grip. “How do you think she’ll react if she learns you’ve hired a private detective to snoop into her past?”

Jake scraped a palm over his jaw to hide his scowl. He could just imagine, but what choice did he have? He hated the flash of panic in her mesmerizing eyes whenever a strange vehicle rolled to a stop at the end of the driveway. Worse, they’d been sleeping together for nearly six weeks. He hated that she trusted him with her body but not her secrets.

“I think she’ll be pissed, but I’m willing to take my chances. I get the distinct impression my presence at the farm has made the situation worse somehow. I owe it to her to help if I can.”

Tom arched a brow. “It wasn’t your idea to spend time at the farm, remember?”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t change the facts. Something’s scaring her, Tom. She needs help, even if she’s too stubborn to ask.”

“If I recall correctly, you have your own problems. Like the upcoming playoffs and finishing the season healthy. Not to mention breaking the touchdown record.”

What the hell? He scowled, tightening his fingers along the brim of his hat. “What’s with you all of a sudden? From the time we met, you’ve lectured me about not making my life all about football. You’ve been hounding me for years to find myself a good woman. I figured you’d offer to plan the bachelor party, not suggest I hang Gracie out to dry.”

Tom chuckled and deviltry glittered his eyes. “And for years, you’ve been telling me a woman’s baggage belongs at the bedroom door—along with her clothes.”

“Fuck you.” He couldn’t help returning the grin splitting Tom’s face.

The humor slowly faded from Tom’s eyes as he studied Jake intently. “With the exception of V, and maybe Sharon, you’ve never cared enough about a woman to be dragged into her problems. What’s different about this female? Is she
the
one? Are you in love with her?”

The question hit Jake hard, as if he’d been stopped cold at the line of scrimmage. Was she the one? Was he
in love? Hell, was he even capable of loving a woman? Was he capable of loving Gracie?

His palms broke out in a sweat. Jesus, she scared him shitless. What had started out as a pleasant diversion had built into something he wasn’t willing to name. Not yet, anyway. Tom was quick with the snap, tossing out the L word, but what did real love look like? Was the gut-wrenching tangle of lust, laughter, and alarm charging his system whenever he was with Gracie the real thing?

She was something else. Beautiful and quirky. He’d never met a woman who could make him laugh the way she did, even when he was hard. Hell, especially when he was hard, which, it turned out, was most of the time lately. He hadn’t laughed so much in bed in…ever.

Baiting her was a pleasure he couldn’t resist. He loved the way her eyes flashed violet steel daggers at his teasing, and the memory of their smoky purple hue when he had her beneath him never failed to give him a woody. However, it wasn’t just the sex, though damn, coming deep within her slick and sultry depths left him breathless, satisfied, and impatient for the next time. He also loved her bold spirit and adored her smart-ass mouth. But most of all, he loved the way she loved the twins.

Truth be told, the idea of Angel and Charlie claiming a permanent place in his life no longer scared the crap out of him. He still couldn’t see himself taking full custody—he couldn’t do that to Gracie—but the girls
would
be part of his life after he left the farm.

As for Gracie…he loved many things about her, but was he
in love
with her? He honestly couldn’t say.

“Maybe. No!” He jammed his fingers through his hair. “Hell, I don’t know.”

Tom’s smile widened. “I wouldn’t hire a private detective until you do. Take my word for it. Having a woman you’re in love with pissed off at you sucks.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“I married a redhead, remember?”

Tom’s grumbled response loosened the knot of tension in Jake’s gut a bit, but not completely. “I didn’t say I was in love with Gracie.”

“You didn’t say you weren’t, either.” Tom flipped the football at him. “Before you resort to hiring a professional, does she have any family you can talk to?”

He caught the ball clean.

Well, shit. Why hadn’t
he
thought of that? “No, but she has a friend.”

Jake swept the Stetson from his head and glanced around the busy gym. Rock music pumped in the background, competing with the clang of weights and humming treadmills. At least two dozen men sweated through their workouts and half as many women. Max Grayson’s place wasn’t what Jake had expected.

Though the equipment was top notch, the machines were utilitarian, with none of the sparkle and chrome one would expect in a gym located on the pricey, upper west side. Unlike many of the sports clubs in the area, whose floor-to-ceiling windows were designed specifically to allow their clientele to show off their physiques and be seen by the foot traffic passing by on Manhattan’s busy sidewalks, Max’s storefront windows were blacked out. From what Jake could see, his clientele were serious about their exercise regimens.

Respect bumped up against the kernel of jealousy he couldn’t quite dismiss. Not that he considered the cage fighting champ and gym owner a rival for Gracie’s sensual affections, despite her attempt to make him believe they were a couple at first. He chuckled recalling the way Max derailed her ploy before she ever gained any traction convincing Jake they were an item. After watching the teasing and jarring between them over the past two months, there was no way in hell he’d mistake what they shared for an intimate relationship, and the way she consistently came alive in Jake’s arms denied the possibility of Max and her being lovers. They shared a history and, clearly Max held her heart, but she wasn’t sharing her bed with any other man. Not even Tuck—the bastard—despite his having stepped up his game to include offerings of expensive jewelry after his Bahamas Christmas plans failed to sway her.

Jake curved his lips in a feral smile. Tuck’s diamond baubles hadn’t gotten him any further than his claim of love at first sight.

Several feet away, a bulky young black man, no more than a kid, with a gold bar piercing one eyebrow and more tattoos than he’d have had birthdays, lowered the weight bar into the cradles and sat up. He bumped his chin in Jake’s direction. “Hey, ain’t you the Outlaw?”

He slid the brim of his hat through his fingers. “That’s what some call me.”

“Cool, dude. Gonna take the record?”

With three weeks left to the regular season, he was three touchdowns away. If he kept up his current pace, the record was in the bag. “I’m doing my damndest. Any idea where I can find the owner?”

“Max?”

Jake nodded.

“He’s back in his office.” The kid jerked his head toward an open door on the far wall.

“Thanks.” Jake made his way across the crowded gym, greeting several patrons who called out to him by name and shaking a few hands. He paused in the office doorway. Max looked up and springs squeaked when he sprawled back in the ancient desk chair.

Along the far wall, a familiar figure slumped on a worn leather couch. He wore a shit-eating grin. “Hey, buddy.”

Jake swore beneath his breath. “Tuck.”

Max’s steely gray eyes glittered with humor. “Well, I’ll be damned. Interested in a gym membership, Jake?”

He ground his teeth. No, but that wasn’t a bad idea. “The thought crossed my mind.”

The chair groaned when Max rocked back even farther. His smile went sly. “Huh. It’s the oddest thing. I’ve been in business several years and, with the exception of a Wall Street mogul and an actor with a reoccurring role on a soap opera, I haven’t signed a single famous client. All of a sudden, I’ve got two in one month.”

“What are the odds?” Jake slid his gaze to Tuck and bared his teeth in a patently false smile. “You don’t mind if I have a word with Max, do you?”

Tuck crossed one leg over the other, brushing nonexistent lint from his sweatpants, but didn’t move otherwise. “Nope.”

“A
private
word.”

Wicked laughter danced in Tuck’s eyes. “Hey, buddy, if you’ve got a problem, maybe I can help.”

“The only problem I have is with you.”

Tuck slapped spread fingers to his chest. “Shit, and here I thought we were friends. You’re breaking my heart.”

He crossed his arms. “Better your heart than your neck. Get lost.”

Tuck grinned but rose to his feet. Max stood as well.

Tuck stretched an arm over the desk to shake his hand. “I’ll take you up on your offer to let me in early for workouts starting next week.” He paused beside Jake on his way out the door. “I was on my way out to the farm, anyway. Max says Gracie’s an art lover.” He waggled his brows. “I’ll be taking her to the gala fund-raiser at The Met at the end of the month. See you on the practice field, buddy.”

She’d attend the fund-raiser with him over Jake’s dead body! He glared at Tuck’s retreating back until Max chuckled behind him.

“I wondered how long it would be before you dropped by.”

He shook off the desire to rearrange his friend’s nose and turned to face Max. “Did you? Why is that?”

Max slid back into his chair and tucked his hands behind his head. His thickly muscled, tattooed arms, bared by his sleeveless shirt, winged out. The league was full of huge, supremely developed men capable of striking fear in strangers with a simple glance. Max would fit right in, but the humor in his eyes belied his hoodlum looks.

“Same reason Tuck showed up. You’re looking for answers.”

“What questions did Tuck have?”

“Not quite the same as yours, I’ll bet, but then, you’re sleeping with her. He’s not.”

Surprised by the candor of the comment, he automatically braced himself for an attack. “You have a problem with that?”

“With you coming to me with your questions? No. I happen to like you.”

“I was talking about Gracie and me sleeping together.”

Max dropped his arms and sat forward to lean on his elbows. “She’s a big girl. She makes her own choices on who she invites into her bed and doesn’t appreciate my interference there.” A slicing smile beamed. “But, if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

Humor jerked at the corner of Jake’s mouth. He couldn’t take offense. He’d do the same for V. “I thought you liked me.”

The gym owner picked up a pen and ran it through his fingers. A small smile danced at the corner of his lips. “I do, but not
that
much.”

Jake chuckled. “And Tuck? How do you feel about him?”

Mischief glittered in Max’s eyes. “I like him, too.”

“He’s only interested in her because of me.”

Max cocked his head. “I’m sure she’d be interested in hearing that.”

Jake scowled. “That wasn’t an insult. She’s a beautiful woman. Any man would be interested, but Tuck and I….” He slapped his hat against his leg. “Well, the truth is, we’ve had this friendly competition going for a couple of years.”

“Daphne, the underwear model.”

He arched a brow in surprise.

Max laughed. “It’s no big secret. Not if one reads between the lines in the papers. Gracie may not have put two and two together, but then, she’s got other things on her mind. Your friendly competition with Tuck isn’t exactly a secret.”

He grunted.

Max grinned. “Even if Tuck was truly attracted to her, she isn’t interested in him. Amused maybe. Flattered, definitely, but not interested.”

Something suspiciously like relief weakened his knees. He sank onto the couch Tuck had vacated. Jesus, he was pitiful.

White teeth flashed in Max’s smile. “Honestly, I expected a visit from you weeks ago. What is it you want to know? I won’t betray her trust, but I’ll answer what I can.”

“I want to know what she’s hiding.”

The smile remained on Max’s face, but as Gracie’s did whenever Jake brought up the subject, his eyes shuttered. “What makes you think she’s hiding something?”