The Name of the Game (30 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Where are we going?” Gracie asked, her tone more snappish than she'd intended as she sat in James's car, blindfolded.

He stroked a hand over her knee. “Just be patient. We're almost there.”

Gracie huffed and pressed into the seat of the car, crossing her legs in a hopeless attempt to get comfortable. They were back in Chicago for the weekend so she could make a delivery, and she was in a foul mood.

It had been five days since their encounter in the garage apartment that had changed everything. He'd tied her up in so many knots she didn't know what to do about it. After that night—she shuddered—that night in what she now thought of as
his
office. He'd taken her to places no man had ever touched. He'd stripped her bare, emotionally and physically, and it changed something fundamental in her. In them.

The worst part was how much she craved it. It was like the most addictive drug, and the strength of her desire for him terrified her.

It also embarrassed her, how badly she wanted what he'd given her. She'd always been bold when it came to sex, but for some reason, she couldn't find the voice to ask him for it. It set her on edge. She couldn't understand why she desired it so much, when she'd always strived so hard for the upper hand. But since she seemed incapable of asking, over the last couple of days she'd taken to childishly goading James in hopes he'd exert that control over her again.

To no avail.

If anything, he'd backed off. And his implacable calm was driving her crazy.

She wanted him to explode at her, so she'd be justified to explode back and release this god-awful tension that had taken up residence in her body and wouldn't shake free.

She needed something, because she was all over the place. As though she rode an endless roller coaster of staggering drops, unexpected dips, and pitch-black tunnels. One second she loved him so much, needed him like he was her next breath, the next she couldn't wait to get away from him. Desperate for space, she'd push him away, but as soon as he left, she felt lonely.

Her emotions were so out of control she'd secretly taken a pregnancy test, even though James had always been ultra careful, never once taking her without protection.

She'd stood in the bathroom, watching the digital clock on the stick turn around and around, praying to the gods it wouldn't be positive. Then, ironically, the second the test read “not pregnant” she'd been filled with a gut-wrenching sadness. Locked in the bathroom, she'd cried for thirty minutes.

In short, she was a mess.

The car turned, ripping her away from her turbulent thoughts and she asked again, “Where are we?”

“You'll see,” he said, tone amused.

Unreasonably, Gracie wanted to scratch his eyes out.

She bit her bottom lip. Maybe she needed a break. Some space to get her head screwed on straight so she could stop acting like a lunatic.

Before she could think any more about it, the car pulled to a stop and James turned off the engine. She could hear the cars on the busy street, but other than that there were no clues as to their location.

He got out of the car, and seconds later he pulled her from her seat by the hand, and guided her up the sidewalk. She heard the fumbling of keys, and then they were once again walking.

When they stopped, he stepped behind her and ran his finger down the curve of her neck. “Shane called in a favor so we could be alone for the tour.”

She frowned, having no idea what he meant. He'd obviously gone through a lot of trouble to plan something, the least she could do was be grateful. She touched the blindfold and attempted to inject levity into her tone. “I'll need to see where I'm going for a tour.”

“Soon. We're almost there. I hope you like it.” She sensed a slight tremor of nerves in the cadence of his voice.

What could he possibly be nervous about? She shifted on the balls of her feet as her stomach dropped. He wasn't going to propose, was he? No, he wouldn't. He planned, talked things out. He was methodical. They'd barely said they loved each other, and they'd only said it that once during all the crazy intensity of the scene in his office. The M-word had never even been spoken. They hadn't even discussed their relationship. So surely he wasn't going to propose.

It was too soon for that? Wasn't it?

Her mind raced as she searched for another explanation for his blindfolding her,
and
his nervousness.

No, she was being crazy. There had to be another reason. There were too many things they hadn't discussed.

He couldn't.

Would he?

She didn't know.

Palms sweaty, she clenched her hands, hardly even breathing as she waited.

With slow, methodical movements he carefully untied the knot holding the fabric over her eyes. He whispered in her ear, “If it's not to your taste, there are others to choose from.”

Her throat went dry. Oh God. This was it.

She was going to pass out.

The blindfold came off.

She blinked into focus an empty room. What? Where?

James walked in front of her, a smile on his face, and held out his arms. “What do you think?”

What was she supposed to think? She looked around. It was a big, empty, dilapidated room with high ceilings and big windows at the front where the sun beamed rays of light across hardwood floors that needed to be refurbished.

Totally confused, she frowned at James. “What is this place?”

While he still wore a smile on his face, the corners of his eyes were creased, like they got when he worried. “It's a storefront.”

The words slammed through her. This wasn't a proposal at all. Her spine snapped ruler straight.

Of course, she was relieved.

That would have been insane. Something James was not.

But, still, she couldn't have heard right. “Excuse me?”

“A storefront. A potential spot for your bakery.”

Stunned, she could only stare at him as his words sank in. When she didn't speak, he stepped forward and put his hands in his pockets, as though he resisted the urge to fidget. “It's in the heart of River North. Prime real estate. Shane made sure of it. He believes it's the best on the market right now, but if you don't like it, there are others we can look at.”

Well, didn't he have it all planned out? James and his brother. She balled her hands into fists. How could he? And her friends. Did they know about this? Had they all planned this behind her back? Certainly Cecilia must know; after all, Shane wouldn't have kept this from her.

James continued on. “There are four other contenders, so say the word and I'll arrange for us to see them.”

All Gracie could do was stare at him as fury, disappointment, and betrayal sank deep into her bones.

She'd been looking for a reason to explode. And he'd just handed her one on a silver platter.

 

 

Gracie's expression revealed nothing, but some ancient male instinct warned James he didn't have a happy woman on his hands.

Although, in fairness, he hadn't had a happy woman on his hands since she'd woken up the morning after he'd taken her so completely. Since he'd anticipated that, he'd been prepared. Per his plan, he'd backed off, giving her space to breathe, but it seemed to have had the reverse effect. Instead of relaxing her, she'd grown more agitated.

After the bakery site tours, when she understood how serious he was about their relationship, he'd intended to talk to her and get everything straightened out.

But now the plan that he'd concocted with Shane all those weeks ago didn't appear quite so foolproof.

Since she still hadn't said anything, he continued to relay the information Shane told him about the location, hoping that once she saw how perfect it was, she'd get excited by the idea. “The block is filled with restaurants and shopping, in a high-traffic area. There's not another bakery in the neighborhood. The closest one is four miles away and has mediocre reviews on Yelp. So this would be perfect.”

Blue eyes, filled with icy coldness, stared at him, unblinking. Not excited at all.

No, this certainly wasn't going according to his plans.

She crossed her arms over her chest.

He cleared his throat. “Shane said the lease is also priced to get the place filled, and it's not technically on the market until the first of the month. If you want it we'd need to move fast.”

A muscle worked in her jaw as though she ground her teeth, but still she said nothing.

With a sinking feeling, he asked, “So, what do you think?”

Expression hard, she tapped the toe of her brown knee-high boots. When she'd pulled them on over skinny jeans this morning, along with a matching sable sweater so soft he couldn't stop running his hands over it, he'd joked that she looked ready for riding. Then he'd tumbled her to the bed, stripped her jeans to her knees, and licked her to orgasm.

“Gracie?” Her name on his lips sounded as uneasy as he felt.

She tapped her finger on her chin. “You and Shane have all the answers, so you tell me. What should I think?”

Okay, so he'd clearly made a mistake. “You're not happy.”

“Gee, Professor, what was your first clue?”

“Let me explain.”

She blew out a hard breath, sending a curl flying. With a jerky movement she yanked it behind her ear. “Please explain to me how you and your brother took it upon yourselves to meddle in my business without even discussing it with me.”

The knot in his stomach tightened. “I didn't think of it that way.”

“Tell me, James, is there anything else you decided for me?”

Somehow he didn't think telling her about the draft Shane had drawn up was a good idea. Cautiously, he said, “We were only trying to help.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “How incredibly thoughtful of you.” Her words dripped with sarcasm.

“Let me explain my thought process and we can talk.”

She shook her head and her blond curls floated around her cheeks. “No explanation will justify your actions. Did it ever occur to you to discuss this with me? I mean, after all, it's only my life.” She waved a hand in the air. “But, ha, what do I matter?”

James blinked, and suddenly the stupidity of his plan came into crystal-clear focus. He was an idiot. Why had he talked to Shane, of all people? James pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. He knew why. Because his brother was a man who took whatever he wanted, and ruthlessly bulldozed any obstacle in his path. If James had any brains, he'd have discussed the idea with Jane and Anne. Surely they would have stopped him from making such a drastic mistake. But he hadn't done that, because deep down he'd known they wouldn't approve and he hadn't been able to think of another way.

He took a deep breath. Okay, he could handle this. He'd just calmly explain what he'd been thinking and why, and apologize. “Of course you matter. I was trying to be helpful.”

Her hands clenched at her sides. “How exactly is this helpful, James?”

His only recourse was to be honest. “You were overwhelmed, and I knew the logistics of traveling back and forth to Chicago was wearing on you. Opening a storefront seemed like a viable option, but when I tried to talk to you about it you wouldn't discuss it. I thought if we did all the legwork for you and came up with financing solutions, you would see it as a possibility.”

She flushed, with what he was pretty sure was rage. “Revival is my home. It's where my family and friends are. Where my business is. Did it ever occur to you I don't want to move to Chicago?”

“With all the orders you're getting it seemed logical. All I wanted was for the possibility to be on the table. I knew you were busy. I had the time and resources. I didn't see the harm. Is that so wrong?”

“Yes.”

“It's not like I signed papers for you; I just gave you another option to consider.”

“For me, right? And you don't factor in this at all?”

There was no right answer here. He could see that from the hard set of her mouth. Instead of its normal lushness, it was pursed into a thin, angry line.

“I thought if we saw each other more, our relationship would have a better shot at survival.”

She shook her head “Did you run it through a proper experiment to determine the statistical odds?”

“Don't be caustic.”

Arms rigid at her sides, she screeched, “Caustic? Caustic! You're lucky I'm not throwing knives at you. I can't believe you!”

Anger spiked hot in his blood, but he couldn't let it out, so he pushed it down. “I'm not saying it was my smartest move, but it's not as horrible as you're making it sound.”

She pressed a fingertip to her temple. “You're busy making decisions about my future and you haven't even talked to me about a relationship. Don't you see how crazy that is?”

His brow furrowed. “I was only giving you more options.”

God, he sounded stuffy, pompous, and stubborn, but he couldn't seem to stop. As though he stood apart from the situation, he watched as he opened his mouth and dug a deeper grave. “I mean, it's not like I can move. I'm a tenured professor.”

She let out a scream. “We've never even discussed our relationship! We've never talked about our future.”

He was compelled to point out the obvious. “You said you didn't want to discuss it. What was I supposed to do?”

Her eyes went wide as though she couldn't believe he was so stupid. “Oh, I don't know, wait until I was ready?”