To Win Her Trust (4 page)

“Oh, ye of little faith.” Kris slipped a slim tablet from the bag on her shoulder. “Anyone can be found if you know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not interested in finding him.”

“I am. What’s his name?”

She growled her displeasure but caved under Kris’s pointed stare. “Kevin Tucker.”

As if dumbstruck, her cousin’s brows jumped to her hairline. “Tuck?”

“Tuck what?”

“Not what. Who!
Tuck
. Sexy wide receiver for the Manhattan Marauders?”

CC gnawed at her bottom lip. Not a fan of football, she’d nonetheless heard the name mentioned. One couldn’t live in Manhattan and not be aware of the buzz surrounding football’s newest franchise, but what would a pro player be doing in a local coffee shop?

Kris frowned when CC didn’t respond. “Remember that story a couple months ago about the retired quarterback who found out that lady football blogger was his daughter? Her name was Gracie something. She was the one with the little twin girls who accepted the wedding proposal on TV? They got married a couple of months ago.”

“He’s
married
?” She refused to name the expanding lump in her belly as disappointment. The man had kissed her, for heaven’s sake. The cheating dog.

Kris wagged a dismissive hand. “No. Tuck’s not married. She married Tuck’s friend, Jake Malone.”

CC’s head spun at her cousin’s convoluted explanation. “Whatever. This guy must be some other Kevin Tucker.”

Kris’s fingers slid over the smooth surface of the tablet in a blur. “Let’s see. There’s a Kevin Tucker, city councilman.” She rubbed a fingertip down the screen. “Nope, he’s from Atlanta. Any chance he’s an Australian cliff diver?”

“I don’t think so. His accent was definitely Bostonian.”

“Okay, our only other options are…” Her eyes went wide, and she looked up, then burst out laughing. “Too Long Tucker, L.A.’s premier adult film star?”

She narrowed her eyes and smirked. “You’re making that up.”

Kris held out the tablet.

She peered at the naked, anatomically impossible man on the screen. “Oh. My. God!”

Kris cocked her head, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I take it that’s not him?”

“Holy shit. What is he, half horse?”

Laughter shook Kris’s shoulders. She tapped the screen and Kevin “Tuck” Tucker’s image appeared in full, living color. All dimpled charm and scruffy blond good looks, he stood on the sideline of a packed stadium. Football helmet tucked under his arm, sweat plastered his thick shock of hair to his head. His blue eyes gleamed at CC from the tablet.

She covered her indrawn breath with a cough. “That’s him.”

Wide-eyed, Kris gawked at her as if she were nuts. “Why would you waste your time on a dweeb like Ronald when you’ve got a hottie like Tuck showing interest?” She dropped her gaze to the screen. “Look at him. He’s gorgeous.”

She scowled at the grinning face staring back at them. As tempting as the idea was,
Tuck
simply wouldn’t do. No, Ronald was a much safer choice.

It crossed her mind she’d never been particularly aware of her agent’s scent. She shut her eyes and concentrated, but, try as she might, she couldn’t associate any fragrance with Ronald, enticing or otherwise. Her eyes snapped open.

God, what was she doing? Scents and mates and contemplating dating a friend in order to cure her neuroses?
I’m as crazy as Mom. Next thing I know I’ll be chanting along with her and her kooky friends as we celebrate the summer solstice.

She swallowed. “Ronald isn’t a dweeb. He’s a nice man. Anyway, I didn’t say I was going through with testing the theory, just that I was considering it.”

She jolted at the sudden jangling of her cell phone as her mother’s ringtone filled the room.

“Spooky.” Kris gave a mock shiver. “We were just talking about her, and there she is. It’s like she’s…psychic or something.”

CC bared her teeth in a cutting smile before answering the call. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, baby. I called to see how the two of you are doing.”

“The same as always.” She rolled her eyes at Kris. “We haven’t been raped and murdered in the big, bad city.”

“That’s nothing to joke about, CC. I worry about you girls, there all alone.”

“We’re not alone. We have each other, and Walter. We’re fine. We keep the doors and windows locked, and though I can’t vouch for Kris, you know
I
don’t talk to strangers.”

Well, not until recently, that is
.

Natalie Calhoun’s sigh was long-suffering. “Your father’s going to be in Manhattan at the end of the month.”

“I know. He left a message on my machine.”

“But you didn’t talk to him. Why don’t I give him your cell number?”

“Mom.” She squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Don’t do that. Please.”

“When are you going to forgive him, baby? It’s harmful to the spirit to carry around old bitterness. You need to let it go.”

Bristling at the old argument, she opened her eyes and gave her pat answer. “I’m not bitter. I’m doing what I need to survive.”

“You’re still suffering from attacks.” It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t bother offering a denial. “He’s sorry, CC, and he’s not getting any younger. If you don’t forgive him soon, you might lose your chance.”

This, too, was an old argument, one she didn’t buy into for a moment. Curt Jensen would never die. He’d lie, cheat, steal, or sell his soul to the devil, the way he’d sold out his own daughter to insure his rock-star immortality.

Her mother never could see the truth when it came to the only man she’d ever loved. Curt might be getting older, but he hadn’t changed. Neither was he too old to appear on last month’s cover of
Rock World
with his latest, barely-beyond-jail-bait lover. The blonde bombshell hanging on his arm in the photo could have been CC’s
younger
sister. Pointing that out to her mother would only hurt her, however.

“He’ll be there on the twenty-sixth.”

“I’ve got to go, Mom.”

Another sigh. “Okay, but please think about it. He really wants to see you. I love you, baby. Kris, too.”

“We love you, too.”

Chapter 3

Tuck paused in the kitchen doorway of Jake and Gracie Malone’s historic Long Island farmhouse. Across the hardwood floor with her back to the room, Gracie worked at the counter. Tall, blond, and stacked, his best friend’s bride of two months wielded a wickedly sharp knife as she sliced and diced the makings of a salad with the precision of a Paris-trained chef.

Unaware of his presence, she sang along with the show tune belting out from her docked phone on the counter at her elbow. She paused in her chopping, raised the knife over her head, and struck a dramatic pose. He winced when, reaching for an impossibly high note, she proved that although she had the looks and the attitude for a Broadway career, her singing ability was a nonstarter.

He arched an appreciative brow as she rotated her hips in a hoochie mama swivel, then brought the knife down to hack at a mushroom in time to the up-tempo beat. Grinning, he shook his head. There’d been a moment last fall, a very brief moment, when despite Jake’s obvious feelings for the lady football blogger, Tuck had considered going after Gracie—and not just for a quick fling. Thankfully, he’d come to his senses before Jake resorted to physical violence and in the seven months since, she’d become that rarest of things, a true female friend.

Unfortunately, that brief moment of lapse, when he’d looked at her and seen the potential for something more than his typical wham bam relationship with a woman, left behind a festering sense of unease. Since meeting CC Calhoun, unease had slid into full-blown concern.

Damn it, he wasn’t a one-woman kind of man. Never had been. When it came to chicks, he didn’t do long term. Hell, why should he when half the world’s population was female, and with very few exceptions, his for the taking?

Not that he didn’t hope to settle down someday. Growing up the way he had, he understood the importance of a loving home and family. He also knew how rare a truly happy marriage was, especially where fame and fortune were involved. Bottom line, if he were ever to take the plunge into the marital pool, he wanted what his parents had and would accept no less. He wanted that one perfect woman who would be the other half of his whole, the way his mother was to his father. Unfortunately, if such a woman was out there, he hadn’t found her. He’d begun to think she didn’t exist. Then he’d met CC Calhoun.

He rubbed a hand over the uncomfortable tingle stinging the back of his neck. They’d spent less than five minutes together. He had no fucking business thinking of her along those lines, but the idea of never seeing her again was making him nuts. Which was the reason behind his visit. Gracie was one of the most grounded women he knew. She’d talk him down from the ledge.

He stretched his neck to peer down the hallway. No sign of Jake. No Mary, the housekeeper, or the twins either. Where the hell was everyone?

Making his steps silent, he tiptoed forward. Murphy, Gracie’s sixty pound idiot mutt, bolted from beneath the kitchen table. His claws scrambled for purchase and clattered against the hardwood floor. The racket nixed Tuck’s plan to sneak up and lay a smacking kiss on Jake’s bride.

As Gracie spun around, clutching the deadly sharp knife in one hand and a carrot in the other, Tuck kept a watchful eye on the dog. He’d already experienced the Border Collie’s testicle-crushing, head-butt greetings on more than one occasion and wasn’t interested in a follow-up encounter. He pivoted sideways and splayed a protective hand over his crotch for good measure. Murphy surprised him by skidding to a stop and plopping to his butt at Tuck’s feet.

When the dog politely offered a paw, he lifted his head and shot Gracie a quizzical brow. “What’d Jake do, snip his balls?”

Gracie laughed and dropped her hips back against the counter. “He enrolled him in doggy finishing school.”

“Smart man.” He shook the dog’s paw, then scrubbed at his side.

She chuckled. “If you’re looking for Jake, he and the twins went to visit Dad.” Her grin softened into a bemused smile. “It still gives me a thrill to call Tom, Dad.”

Tuck straightened and returned her smile. “It’s the same for Tom. I didn’t think a man his age was capable of blushing, but I was wrong. He colors up like a teenager whenever he mentions your name.” And the retired superstar quarterback had mentioned Gracie a
lot
in the months since he, along with the rest of the world, learned she was his biological daughter. Their surprise familial connection had quickly become the story of the year, and Jake’s fifty yard-line marriage proposal to Gracie only added flame to the press firestorm.

Gracie’s smile went dopey, and Tuck crossed the room to snag a slice of cucumber. Popping it into his mouth, he considered her while he chewed. “I actually came by to see you.”

She shook her head and grinned. “Jake and I are still technically on our honeymoon. I doubt he’ll be happy if I run off with you to Bermuda.”

He bared his teeth in a leering smile. Gracie and her groom might be sickeningly happy together now, but their happily ever after hadn’t been a foregone conclusion when they faced each other as adversaries vying for guardianship of the twins. The bizarre custody battle over Jake’s half sisters and Gracie’s nieces had offered Tuck countless opportunities to jerk his friend around. He’d taken full advantage by showing up at the farm and trying to convince Gracie to run off with him. The game, however, lost its appeal the moment Jake slipped his ring on her finger.

Just as Tuck didn’t do long term, neither did he poach… And women
didn’t
get under his skin. How, and more importantly,
why
had CC? He frowned.

Gracie’s smile slipped. “What’s wrong?”

He wiped his face clear of emotion. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“You look… Oh, I don’t know.” She rotated the knife’s edge in a circular motion, indicating his face. “You look off.”

Off
was an apt description. His disquiet, however, had nothing to do with the disappointment he
should
be experiencing now that his plans to get the luscious Lisa alone and naked were shot. Truthfully, other than a twinge of guilt for how things had played out with the busty coffee clerk, he hadn’t given her much thought since the moment he turned around and his gaze landed on the tiny blonde with the old-soul eyes.

What the hell was it about CC Calhoun that kept her popping into his mind hours later? Sure, she had a body designed to bring a man to his knees, but so did a lot of women. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Hell, she wasn’t even in the top ten, and he made it a habit to steer clear of women with issues. The anxiety attack she’d suffered on the sidewalk was a definite issue, but something about her…