The Name of the Game (3 page)

The bastard never even apologized.

James returned his attention to the television, where he'd covertly changed the channel from a baseball game to a history documentary about the invention of the nuclear bomb. Too busy giving each other shit, Shane and Mitch hadn't noticed. As an MIT professor droned on, James's mind wandered back to where it had stubbornly wandered all day. Gracie.

He'd replayed their exchange in the closet. He'd done his best to be nice to her. He'd been helpful and affable. He'd ignored her barbs, refusing to rise to the bait, although it was damn hard with that sassy mouth of hers. He hadn't missed the flare of awareness in her, but so far, being congenial hadn't lessened the tension. If anything, it seemed to grow, and she'd become more agitated. He could only conclude pleasantness didn't have an effect on her behavior. He tapped a finger on the remote.

Or maybe he hadn't given it enough time.

While the results might be inconclusive, the experiment had taught him one thing: he'd been right to never be alone with her.

They sparked. He supposed it was a good thing Gracie was the most stubborn woman on earth. With all her talk about him being a geek, and her agitation about his dietary choices, she'd never admit they had chemistry.

She'd go to her grave insisting she hated him. He suspected she even believed it. As a teenager he'd watched as his brothers dated girls like Gracie, and he knew the score. He was hardly her type. While a part of him itched to prove her wrong, her rejection of him as a potential partner suited him fine. They were fundamentally incompatible. And he preferred his sexual encounters to mean something.

Eventually she'd meet someone. Or he would. Someone more suitable to his personality, who would build the strong, grounded relationship he desired.

Before he could contemplate any more, his baby sister came bounding down the stairs in a flirty little red dress. The color should clash with her auburn hair, but didn't. She beamed at her husband and plopped down on his lap.

Shane grimaced. “There are plenty of available seats.”

“Don't listen to him.” Mitch slid his arm around Maddie's waist and placed a hand inappropriately high on her thigh. “Well, don't you look gorgeous, princess.”

She leaned in and kissed his neck. “Thank you, so do you.” She whispered something in his ear and a second later Mitch laughed.

Shane scowled. “Jesus, Maddie, I heard that. Now I'll think about it all night and end up impotent.”

“I certainly hope not,” Cecilia said, making her way down the stairs. She wore her caramel-colored hair loose and was dressed in skinny black pants, a stretchy matching top, and heels at least four inches high. On her tall, lean frame she looked every inch the sophisticated rich girl she was.

Shane took one look at her and shrugged. “Problem solved.”

Cecilia grinned and moved into the kitchen. “It's a mess, but I know where the wine is. I made sure of that. I'll open a bottle of red. Does anyone else need anything?”

If James drank, he stuck to red wine with all those good antioxidants, and he suspected he'd need a few drinks to get through the evening. “I'll take a glass.”

“Where's Gracie?” Mitch asked.

“She was last in the shower,” Maddie volunteered before saying to Cecilia, “I'll take a glass too.”

James's mind flashed to a naked Gracie with water streaming down her lush body, and shook off the thought. Images like that were not productive.

Cecilia came over and handed him a glass of deep red wine before passing one to Maddie. Moments later she returned with her own and settled herself into the crook of Shane's arm, plastering her body against his. Now both couples were on the couch, staring at their partners adoringly, and James contemplated Gracie's earlier question about wanting to be around them.

In retrospect, she had a point.

They were rather annoying. And this dinner did leave them the odd couple out. The awkward fly in the love-fest ointment. Usually there were other people around to act as a buffer, but tonight, with only the six of them, the contrast between their dislike for one another and the couples' infatuation would be the elephant in the room.

It was one night. For his brother. And it would give him a chance to continue his experiment.

The rest of the weekend they'd be around friends and family, and James wouldn't have to talk to her. It wouldn't kill him to spend an evening with Gracie and, as he'd said, this wasn't about them. It was about Shane and Cecilia. After all his older brother had done for their family, James would swim through shark-infested waters if it meant securing Shane's well-deserved happiness.

His brother had saved them from the streets after their father died. Their mother had been overcome with grief and needed all her time for Maddie's rehab after the accident, so they'd been near destitute. Shane had taken on all the burdens of their family, working himself to the bone, until he became insanely successful. Most people only saw the man he was today; they had no idea how hard those early years had been. Or how tirelessly Shane had worked to hold it all together.

James marveled at his brother's strength and determination. He'd used it as a model for turning his own life around. Sure, he'd never be rich like Shane and Evan, but he was well respected in his profession. He had the admiration of his peers, law enforcement agencies all over the country hired him as a consultant, and he had secured tenure at one of the most prestigious universities in the country. In the world of academia he was at the top of his field. James owed that to Shane, who'd paid for college, put food on the table, and kept their family together and thriving.

If Shane wanted him here, James wasn't going to let a blond-haired vixen get in his way.

And then said vixen walked down the stairs and knocked the wind right out of him.

Maddie whistled—a long, low, wolfish sound. “Damn, Gracie, you look like a dominatrix.”

James couldn't help but agree, and could only stare at her in stunned silence.

Gracie's black minidress molded to every curve of her body, clung to her waist and hips as though it was painted on, and ended so high on her thighs James started to sweat. The plunging neckline displayed a jaw-dropping amount of cleavage and Cecilia had been right when she'd said it would give people a heart attack. James's heart pumped so hard he was in an anaerobic state. Matched with black knee-high boots, red lips, and wild, blond curls, she did, in fact, look quite formidable.

“See, I told you it would fit,” Cecilia said, her voice smug with satisfaction.

Gracie ran a hand down her stomach, and shifted in her boots. “There isn't room to spare, even with the spandex.”

James lost track of what they were saying, unable to tear his attention away from the woman in front of him. She looked so delicious, so unbelievably sexy, he'd have to beat the men away with a stick. James frowned. He shouldn't be having those thoughts.

She didn't belong to him and never would.

“What are you looking at?” Gracie demanded, breaking into his inappropriate thoughts.

“What?” he asked stupidly.

She straightened her shoulders and put her hands on her hips. “You're wearing that disapproving look you have. If you don't like the dress, blame your sister-in-law, not me.”

He stiffened as everyone turned toward him with speculation on their faces. Unlike Gracie, James hated being the center of attention. That's why he wanted a nice, quiet girl who hated scenes as much as he did. He shook his head. “You're paranoid.”

Maddie shrugged. “Well, you were kind of glaring at her.”

James narrowed a dangerous gaze on his sister. The little traitor. “I was thinking about something that had nothing to do with her. She happened to be in my line of vision.”

Shane chuckled and Cecilia gave him a little nudge.

“Ha! See, she saw it too. It's not in my imagination.” Gracie punctuated each word with a jab of her finger in his direction.

He gritted his teeth and thought about his plan to be agreeable this weekend. He prided himself on discipline and follow-through. They were the cornerstones of his life. Plus, an experiment was only sound if testing was conducted properly. Yes, she was a challenge, but a little challenge built character. She would not get the best of him.

He gave her his most pleasant smile, the one he reserved for alumni parties when faced with a large donor to the university. “You look quite nice, Gracie.”

“Whatever! I don't need your approval.” She flounced away and a second later the bathroom door slammed shut.

Mitch shook his head. “God, you're an idiot.”

“What? I complimented her.” James took a sip of his wine—well, a gulp, really. She was the unreasonable one here, not him.

Cecilia raised a brow. “You told her she looked nice.”

What did they expect? For him to fawn all over her?
Nice
was a safe compliment, and fit his criteria for pleasantness. “Yeah? So?”

Maddie huffed, shaking her head like he was too stupid to live.

James adjusted his glasses and sighed. Hoping for a little male camaraderie, he looked back and forth between Mitch and Shane. “What's wrong with nice?”

Before they could answer, Gracie stomped back into the room, her boot heels hard, angry jabs on the newly stained, wide-planked wood floors. “You don't tell a woman she looks nice. Grandmas are nice. Puppies are nice.”

“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.” He cringed at the condescension in his tone. Unfortunately, old habits died hard. He took a deep breath and reminded himself to stick to the plan. He could salvage this situation.

“I am not stupid,” she said, her tone filled with venom.

“Don't twist my words.” Anger stirred hot in his chest and he squashed it down. He would not give in. He was in control here. He drained his glass, much faster than he should have considering his light lunch this afternoon.

“How can you be so clueless about women?”

In that moment, more than anything, he wanted to show her just how wrong she was about his supposed cluelessness. “I can assure you I've told plenty of women they looked nice without them throwing a hissy fit.”

Two splotches of pink stained her cheeks. “I am not throwing a hissy fit.”

“Most women would say thank you and go about their business. But not you—no, you have to make a big deal about the fact that I'm not fawning all over you.”

On the couch the two couples' attention bounced back and forth between James and Gracie as though they were watching a tennis match. He should stop. He needed to stop. He was a calm, reasonable man. He did not do scenes. He had an experiment to conduct.

“I don't want your stupid fawning.
Nice
is not a compliment!” She stood there, magnificent chest heaving, looking like a bull waiting to charge.

“
Nice
is a perfectly acceptable compliment,” he insisted stubbornly, even though logic dictated he apologize and get this over with.

“You might as well say I look horrible,” she yelled.

Something snapped and he stood up, pointing at her. “Don't even give me that load of crap when you don't give a fuck what I think.”

“You're right, I don't,” she shouted.

“Let's calm down,” Shane said.

“Stay out of it,” James said, cutting a menacing glare at his brother before shifting back to Gracie. “Then what are we arguing about?”

Her chin tilted. “Nothing. Forget it. Let's go.”

“Fine,” he said, all his good intentions shot to hell.

She stomped past him. “This should be fun.”

He gave her a snide once-over. “I'm sure it will be real
nice
.”

Chapter Three

Gracie stood against the wall in the trendy, River North restaurant's bathroom while Cecilia and Maddie looked at her with twin frowns.

Cecilia sighed, the sound exasperated. “I thought you were going to be nice.”

After a near silent car ride, Gracie was still trying to figure out what happened. Why had she baited him into an argument? He'd been agreeable all day, and she'd jumped all over him. Yes, normal people understood a woman didn't want to be told she looked nice, but she'd overreacted. And he'd yelled at her. Honest to God yelled.

How did she explain to her friends that he'd been helpful and pleasant and it drove her irrationally insane? On the defensive, she blinked and sputtered. “But you agreed with me.”

“Well, yeah, until you took it too far,” Maddie said.

She
had
taken it too far. She'd known that while it happened, but she hadn't been able to stop. He just made her so mad.

“You're so awesome with everyone else,” Cecilia said, lines of disapproval bracketing her mouth. “Why can't you be as warm and lovely to him as you are with other people?”

Wasn't that the million-dollar question? Gracie'd had the best intentions. Getting ready with her girlfriends had put her in a good mood. They'd laughed, traded makeup, and been downright girly as they had gotten ready for the night ahead. After a couple of hours with Cecilia and Maddie, Gracie had felt human again and found she actually looked forward to a fun evening. After squeezing herself into Cecilia's spandex dress, she'd twisted and turned in the mirror and determined she looked pretty awesome. She'd walked down those stairs feeling kick-ass.

But then he'd frowned at her. And, if she was honest, it gave her the excuse she'd been looking for all day to bait him. Which didn't make any sense. She should be happy he'd started treating her like she was a regular person. Only, she wasn't, and she didn't know why. So she'd acted out and he'd given her exactly what she'd been looking for, and now she was more confused than ever.

She wished she'd never agreed to come for the weekend. She wanted to go home to Revival, curl up on her couch and watch bad TV in sweat pants.

She nibbled on her lower lip and shrugged sheepishly at her friends. “I'm sorry. I'll apologize.”

Maddie nodded. “Thanks. You don't have to like him, just be cordial.”

Gracie tried to smile, but it wobbled a bit at the corners. “I will.”

Maddie and Cecilia shared a private glance, and Gracie was struck by how in sync they were. She used to bridge the gap between the two women, but they didn't need her anymore. They were bonded together, through friendship and family, in a way that would always exclude Gracie. The petty thought brought tightness to her throat.

Maddie raised a brow and Cecilia shook her head. With a little shrug, Maddie nodded in affirmation and the silent conversation ended.

Gracie didn't have a clue what they'd just discussed. She placed a hand over her heart. “I'll apologize. Okay?”

Something shimmered in Cecilia's gaze. “We just want you to be happy.”

Gracie's head snapped back. Where was this coming from? “I am happy. I said I was sorry. I said I'll apologize. What more do you want?”

Another glance between the sisters-in-law before Maddie said, “Nothing. It's all good. Let's have a fun time tonight. This is supposed to be a celebration.”

Gracie straightened, smoothing down her dress. She would not be one of those selfish people who ruined her best friend's engagement. From this second on she'd be a joy to be around. “I promise I'll be good.”

“Thank you,” Cecilia said, but her expression didn't ease.

Maddie pointed to the door. “We should get back.”

Gracie jutted her chin toward the stall. “You go on, I'll be there in a second.”

Cecilia stepped forward and put a hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”

She would be, as soon as they left. She needed a moment to compose herself. She waved her hand at the door. “Yes, yes, now go before your Neanderthal fiancé comes looking for you and I get in more trouble.”

“You sure?” Cecilia asked.

Gracie blew out a breath of exasperation. “For God's sake, Ce-ce, I'm just going to the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Cecilia said but didn't look appeased.

Thankfully they relented, leaving her alone. Gracie took a deep breath and blew it out. She opened her purse and scrounged around for her makeup bag. She'd freshen up and put on her best smile. Even if it killed her she'd be on her best behavior and as warm as she could be with James. Once she got home, this odd unrest she felt about him would flitter away in the Revival wind. She'd bake her favorite salted caramel cupcakes and all would be right with the world.

She pushed her phone out of the way, and when it illuminated she saw she had a text from her brother.

She unlocked the screen and swiped the icons until she read the text message from Sam, who'd stayed back home an extra day to take care of his bar.
You okay?

She smiled and some of the pressure in her chest eased.
I'm fine
.

A second later the phone rang and she shook her head, laughing. “I'm fine!”

“What happened?” Sam had a
gift
, as their momma used to call it, of sensing trouble. Being thicker than thieves, and still living together in the house their mom had left them, he had the annoying habit of knowing when she was distressed.

Gracie sighed. She could deny it, but there wasn't any point. Sam would guess anyway. “Nothing. I had a run-in with the professor and now everyone is mad at me. I'm hiding out in the bathroom.”

“What'd you do?” Sam's amusement carried over the line.

She expelled a long breath, feeling lighter and more centered with every second she talked to him. She didn't understand how it worked, but Sam sometimes seemed to shift a person's emotions; a trait that served him well as the owner of a bar. He'd defused many bar fights without even raising his voice.

A chuckle bubbled up inside her for no particular reason. “Why do you think I did anything?”

“History.”

“I might have been a little bitchy,” she admitted. Sam wouldn't judge her. He was her family. The only family she had, and they stuck together.

“You need to stop this, Grace,” he said, sounding like their mother.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I promise I'll be nice.”

“Good. I'll be there tomorrow so you won't be alone.”

She blinked back the sudden swell of tears as he pinpointed in thirty seconds why she was distressed. She did feel alone. In the bedroom, as she'd gotten ready with Maddie and Cecilia, she'd managed to forget, but the incident with James brought it all back. She felt out of step with them.

She took a shaky breath. “I hate you.”

Sam chuckled in that lazy way he had. “Everyone does. I'll see you tomorrow.”

The idea of seeing him soothed her. “Thanks.”

She hung up and looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were stained with pink, her eyes a bit too bright, but other than that she appeared her regular old self.

It was time to face the music and eat some crow.

Even if it was like glass going down.

 

 

The trendy hotspot was packed, the din of the crowd an octave over reasonable. As Gracie walked through the restaurant on her way to the bar, where everyone was waiting, the energy crackled around her. Chicago had an electricity that couldn't be matched in Revival, where everything was lazy and serene and everyone knew everyone. In Revival, she couldn't sneeze without the whole town taking notice, but here, in this vast city with its skyscrapers and endless lakefront, a person could get lost. As much as she loved the small, cozy town she called home, at times the thought appealed to her.

A million years ago she'd dreamed of leaving Revival and moving to the big city, but then her mom had gotten sick with the cancer that would eventually take her life and Gracie couldn't bear to leave. After her mom died, Gracie hadn't wanted to leave Sam alone, and eventually the dreams faded until they were nothing but the memories of a young girl. Now, she no longer thought of leaving. Revival was home. Her rock.

She shook her head, ridding herself of the past and focusing on her immediate future. The bar was packed and she wormed her way through the crowd, searching for her friends. A man leered at her chest and licked his lips.
Ick
. She skirted away before he could get any ideas, turned and froze.

James stood there with her friends—dressed in his black pants and matching V-neck pullover—looking almost trendy with his hands shoved into his pockets. Tonight, he didn't look anything like the geek stereotype she'd boxed him into, but that's not what stopped her cold.

The woman he smiled down at did.

A tall, strikingly beautiful woman, with cool Grace Kelly blond hair and the poise of a dancer, spoke to James, her hand on his arm.

He threw his head back and laughed at whatever she said.

Gracie's stomach dropped.

The woman's chin tilted as she gazed at James adoringly.

“Gracie, over here,” Maddie called, breaking her from her trance.

She squared her shoulders. Big deal. She didn't care if he talked to a woman. Besides, it was probably nothing. Maybe a friend of Shane's and Cecilia's. And even if it was something, it didn't mean anything to Gracie.

James's dating life was none of her concern.

With purpose, she strolled across the space that separated her from the group, and James looked her way. His expression flickered, then smoothed back over.

When Gracie joined the group, Cecilia covered her arm with her hand. “Everything okay?”

“Of course,” Gracie said, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Not willing to stand there like an idiot, she turned toward the woman with James and held out her hand. “I don't think we've met. I'm Gracie Roberts.”

“Lindsey Lord.” The woman shook her hand. Her fingers so delicate Gracie worried she'd crush them.

Gracie plastered on her best smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you. Are you joining us for dinner?”

Lindsey's hand fluttered to her décolletage and nonexistent chest. The muscles of her shoulders were sinewy and supple, and as far as Gracie could see, the woman didn't have an ounce of fat on her. Gracie was positive the woman didn't eat cupcakes and hated her instantly on principle alone. “Goodness, no, I'm with people. But when I saw James I had to come and say hello.” Voice cloying, she beamed at him, her teeth perfectly straight and impossibly white. “It's been far too long.”

Lindsey was definitely flirting, quite overtly.

Not that Gracie cared; she was just surprised. Sure, he was cute. And, yes, he had a spectacular body, but he was hardly a rock star like Lindsey's gaze seemed to indicate.

Gracie assessed Lindsey Lord with a critical eye. She must like her men on the sedate side.

Which sucked for her, but had nothing to do with Gracie. A sting of pain radiated from her palms and she realized she was digging her nails into her skin. She relaxed her fingers.

The hostess came up and said to Shane, “Mr. Donovan, your table is ready.”

Shane straightened, sliding his arm around Cecilia's waist, as he glanced back and forth between James and Lindsey.

What was that about?

James nodded. “Go ahead, I'll be there in a minute.”

Shane frowned, obviously reluctant to leave his baby brother.

James's brow rose and he tilted his head toward the waiting hostess.

Cecilia elbowed him and Shane gave up, turning.

Maddie looked back over her shoulder as they started walking, and waved. “It was nice to see you again, Lindsey.”

“You too,” Lindsey said, her attention already returning to James.

Who was that woman? Why did the Donovans all know her?

As they were led through the crowded restaurant, Gracie trailed behind, unable to resist looking back. James didn't notice as he focused completely on Lindsey, smiling in a way he never smiled at Gracie.

Wait. Gracie blinked, her heart speeding up. Was she his girlfriend? Were they, like, a couple? But nobody had ever mentioned him having a girlfriend. Maddie had never mentioned it. Cecilia hadn't. God knew James had never said anything. Surely, at some point,
someone
would have said
something
. Gracie's mind searched frantically through a year's worth of conversation only to discover she hardly knew anything personal about the professor.

So it was possible.

But then why wasn't she joining them for dinner?

As soon as they'd sat down, Maddie worried at her bottom lip as she looked back to where James still stood. “I hope that's not trouble.”

Gracie's ears perked up. What was this? She quelled the urge to twist around and check out what he was doing. She cursed her choice of a spot. Damn it. She couldn't see anything.

Shane peered over Gracie's shoulder to where his brother stood, and scowled.

What was going on? What was he frowning at? She gripped her menu. She had to know. Not because she cared, but because she was curious. She'd always been a curious person. Her momma had always said as much.

“I'm sure he'll be fine. That was a long time ago,” Shane said.

Okay, that sounded like the past. But Gracie couldn't be sure with the way they'd looked at each other, with those sweet smiles. Or the way Lindsey fluttered her thick lashes at him. And the tilt of James's body into her frail frame.