Chapter One

“How can you drink that stuff ?” Gracie Roberts wrinkled her nose at the offending protein shake in James Donovan’s hand. Of course, his drink of choice wasn’t her business, but whenever she was around the stuffy professor of forensic anthropology for more than five seconds, she couldn’t resist the urge to antagonize him. In her defense, as a baker, his obsession with health food went against her nature.
How could she trust a man who didn’t eat sugar?
One brown brow rose as he stared at her, not speaking. Behind black, wire-rimmed frames, his cool, evergreen eyes studied her in a way she could only describe as dismissive. The standard expression he wore in her company.
When they’d met eighteen months ago, they’d taken one look at each other, and it had been instant dislike.
Which was strange. In her thirty-three years she’d rarely met a person she didn’t like. She loved people and people loved her right back. Her momma had always said she’d been born with more charm than should be legal.
Why, Gracie hadn’t had a nemesis since the eighth grade, when Katie Womack told Greg Holbert that  Gracie had lice, so he’d take Katie to the spring fling instead. But in the end that turned out to be a godsend because now Katie was saddled with five screaming children and Greg cheated on her with a bottle blonde in the next town over.
Good riddance.
She eyed the professor with matching disdain as they squared off, prepared for yet another battle. Living hundreds of miles apart meant she should be able to avoid him, but he came with her best friends. Since Gracie loved her friends she was stuck with  James. When she’d volunteered to come up to Chicago and help Cecilia Riley move into the fabulous house she’d brought with her fiancée, she’d known she’d have to endure the presence of her nemesis, but it didn’t make it any easier.
She sighed. The things she suffered for friendship.
She glared at him. “What are you looking at?”
A flickering once-over. “Not a thing.”
She shouldn’t engage him, but found it impossible this bright, sunny morning. Everything about him irritated her. He’d forsaken his normal geek-wear of tan slacks and a polo shirt, which made him look like a customer service rep for GEICO, for jeans and a vintage-inspired, faded blue  Empire Strikes Back  T-shirt. The cotton stretched over his broad chest and flat abs, emphasizing all those hard muscles he’d worked to hone.
She planted her hands on full hips she’d been told belonged on a 1940s pinup model, and glared at his offending drink. “Why don’t you drink chalk? I’m sure it tastes better.”
“This drink contains the perfect blend of protein, carbohydrates, and vitamins.” James eyed the powdered-sugar doughnut resting on a paper plate at her fingertips.
“Which is more than I can say for that fried, sugary mon-strosity you’re calling a breakfast.”
How dare he?! Doughnuts were universally loved. Only sickos and crazies didn’t like them. Gracie opened her mouth to blast him, but before she could, his older brother came to his rescue.
Shane held out his hands like a referee breaking up a couple of prizefighters. “Let’s not start another round of the food wars. It never ends well and it’s going to be a long day.”
Next to him, Cecilia, nodded. “We appreciate the help this weekend, but it’s only been an hour and you’ve bickered nonstop.”
Disgruntled, Gracie pointed at  James. “He started it.”
He gave her the disapproving scowl he reserved for her. “You  started it. I was standing here minding my own business.”
“You insulted my doughnut!” A stray blond curl flopped into one eye and she pushed it behind her ear even though it never stayed put.
“After you turned your nose up at my shake.”  James crossed his arms over his chest and his biceps rippled.
For a second, the corded muscles running the length of his arms distracted her, but she quickly regained focus and snorted. “Shake! That’s an insult to shakes.
Real shakes are made with actual ice cream. And I’m not talking low-fat frozen yogurt either. I’m talking__”

A loud, piercing whistle filled the air and Gracie covered her ears.
Cecilia’s four-carat diamond ring flashed, nearly blinding Gracie, as she sliced a hand through the air.
“Please. You two are giving me a headache.”
Shane slid a big hand around Cecilia’s waist, pulling her close. “And I’m the only one allowed to make her upset.” He leaned down and kissed his future wife’s neck.
Between Shane and Cecilia getting married, and Gracie’s friends Mitch and Maddie Riley being newly-weds, the constant love fest had started to grate. While she was overjoyed they were happy, it forced Gracie to bear witness to their public displays of affection all too often.
And Gracie was big enough to admit she was a tiny bit jealous. She loved herself a little PDA, only she had no one to PDA with. The year anniversary of her uninten-tional celibacy had come and gone and she was starting to get twitchy. Abstinence hadn’t been the plan. She loved sex. She’d dated plenty, only no one had flipped her switch enough to get her into bed.
She shot a sidelong glance at the professor, always so proper and reserved. He probably thought kissing in public was as disgusting as doughnuts. Hell, he probably only had sex in the missionary position with the lights off. Anyone that uptight would be a complete dud in the sack. Of that much, she was sure.
Not that she thought about what he was like in bed.
When Shane’s tongue flicked over Cecilia’s skin, Gracie’s brows pinched together. “Hey, stop that.” She jerked a thumb at the professor. “You’re going to give him nightmares.”
Shane sucked on Cecilia’s neck, his teeth scraping over the soft flesh. Gracie couldn’t blame her friend one bit when Cecilia’s eyes practically rolled into the back of her head.
Unlike his brother, Shane Donovan was not the kind of man who fucked with the lights off.
James sighed, a deep, heavy sound of the resigned.
“Once again, you’ve managed to lose me.”
Shane lifted his head and grinned at his younger brother. “She thinks you’re a prude,  Jimmy.”
James scowled for several seconds, and then shook his head as though Gracie was just too silly for words.
He picked up the box labeled “kitchen” off the counter and started toward the door, saying over his shoulder,
“You make a gazillion dollars. Why aren’t those movers you hired taking care of this?”
That . . . was actually a good point. “Hey! He’s right.”
“Holy fuck, you agreed with him.” Shane craned his neck and called after his brother. “Did you hear that, Jimmy? She agreed with you.”
“I’ll mark it down in my calendar and drop dead of a heart attack,”  James said wr yly and out the door he went, thus concluding round 513 of their on-going battle.
“That’s it? That’s all I had to do?” Gracie grinned at Cecilia. “Think of all the time I’ve wasted.”
Shane narrowed his green eyes. At first, Gracie had thought all the Donovans shared the exact same eye color, but  James’s were different. A cool, crisp evergreen amongst the rest of the clan’s warmth.
“Do you have to antagonize him?” Shane asked.
Indignant, Gracie placed a hand over her expansive cleavage. “Me? What did I do?”
“Don’t play innocent. You bait him. You’ve been baiting him since the day you met.” Shane slid a hand onto the counter behind Cecilia, and when her friend shivered a little, Gracie suspected he’d worked his fingers under Cecilia’s black top. Again.
Gracie sighed.
Cecilia nodded. “I’m afraid he’s right.”
Gracie rolled her eyes. “Ugh. I miss the days when you guys didn’t constantly agree with each other.”
Cecilia grinned at Shane, her sleek ponytail perfectly in place even though they were doing manual labor.
“I’m trying, but I can’t seem to work up a good mad.”
Shane tugged her mane of caramel-colored hair. “I’m sure you’ll think of something soon.”
“How about the fact that you don’t have movers?”

Gracie asked. After spending last night hearing  way too much, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stomach their ooey-gooey love. Between them and the stuffy professor, her body couldn’t decide if it was stuck in a voyeuristic fantasy or  My Fair Lady.
Shane’s hand settled on Cecilia’s neck. “The movers will be here in thirty. Ce-ce wanted to take care of the important stuff herself.”
Determined to show her friends the enthusiasm they deserved, Gracie smiled at the happy couple, pushing aside her pettiness. “It’s hard to believe six months ago Cecilia cried on my couch over you. Now look at you guys, moving in together and getting married.”
Cecilia’s expression held nothing but complete adoration as she gazed at her fiancé. “Pretty crazy, huh?”
Shane brushed a kiss over her lips, and Gracie looked away.
In six months Cecilia had changed her entire life around. She’d gone from a shut off, work-obsessed woman stuck in a job and life she hadn’t wanted, to the vibrant woman she was now. She’d quit her job as her father’s political advisor, disowned said father, made amends with her brother and mom, started a new business as a PR consultant specializing in image repair, and fallen in love with Shane.
Gracie couldn’t even manage to get herself laid.
Which was pretty much her fault since she kept turning men down. Good men. Hot men.
She shook her shoulders. Enough of that. She had a great life. Sex and companionship weren’t the key to happiness. She had everything a woman could want: a thriving business, great friends, and a beautiful home she shared with her brother.
She was a self-sufficient, empowered woman. Men were secondary. Nice to have but certainly not vital.
James strolled back into the room, moving with an easy grace that irritated her. She’d be hard-pressed to  pinpoint why she’d taken a dislike to him. Other than his addiction to health food and exercise, there wasn’t anything the least bit objectionable about him. Like his testosterone-laden alpha brothers, he was handsome enough—in a bookish sort of way.
At six-two, he was the shortest of the three Donovan boys, and while he had a body that rivaled his brothers’, there wasn’t anything threatening about  James. He was an ordinary guy. Nothing exceptional. Nothing objectionable. With most men, especially harmless men, she went out of her way to flirt and flatter, but for some reason she couldn’t do that with  James. It was something about the way he looked at her, as though he was on to her. Had figured her out. Only, she couldn’t figure out what he understood that she didn’t.
“What?” James asked, startling her out of her thoughts.
Her stomach did an unwelcome little jump, as it sometimes did when he gave her that hard glare and his jaw got all stern. She waved a hand. “Oh, nothing.”
He pointed at one of the boxes on the kitchen table.
“Are you going to get to work, or stand there?”
Gracie huffed. “Um, I was here an hour before you.”
A quirked brow. “But did you do anything?”
“You are such an ass.” Gracie shook her head at the ceiling. How would she survive this day? Let alone the whole weekend?
“You’re getting repetitive.”  James cocked his lean hip against the island countertop and took another drink of his disgusting shake. “You’ve already told me that twice today.”
Gracie searched her mind for a proper comeback only to find herself flummoxed. Another reason he irritated her. While she’d never admit it in a million years,  she often got tongued-tied around him. She made men like him nervous, not the other way around.
Ignoring him, she whirled around to Cecilia. “Do you see what I have to put up with?”
Cecilia pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh.
Shane, however, did not have the same problem.

“You did kind of start it.”
Cecilia elbowed him in the ribs and shushed him before crooking her finger at Gracie. “Come on, let’s go start on the bedroom.”
Shane grabbed Cecilia’s wrist and tugged her back, bending down to whisper something in that made color splash onto her cheeks before letting her go. Cecilia wobbled, then righted herself, a secret smile on her lips.
“We’ll just have to see about that, now won’t we?”
Shane gave her a long, slow once-over. “Yeah, we will.”
Gracie rolled her eyes. God help her. See, this was why she had sex on the brain. It was their fault.
Cecilia spun on her heel, head held high. “Come on, Gracie.” As she passed, Shane smacked her on the ass and she yelped. “Hey!”
Shane laughed and Cecilia glowered, although the huge grin on her lips gave her away. Gracie sighed, a bit wistful, as she followed her friend up the back staircase.
Nobody had smacked her ass in, like,  forever.
James Donovan watched Gracie climb the back stairs, her fantasy-inducing ass encased in a pair of tight jeans that clung to her showgirl legs, in annoyed awe. The sentiment pretty much summed up his yearlong, animosity-filled acquaintance with her. The tight red T-shirt she wore displayed her hourglass figure in all its lush glory, and he’d about broken into a cold sweat as soon as he saw her.
If it was just her body it would be one thing, but her face was equally compelling with those dancing cornflower-blue eyes and wild mess of blond curls that refused to stay tamed no matter how many times she tucked it behind her ears. She was an odd mix of heart-stoppingly cute and wickedly sexy.
His jaw clenched. The kick of desire he felt bothered him.  James’s mind and body had been under control for a long time, and his attraction to the blond sex goddess was a reminder of parts of him better left behind.
He wished for the thousandth time she’d meet someone. She dated plenty, but as far as he could tell, discarded men like used tissues during the heart of flu season.
When she’d stopped seeing the sheriff she’d been involved with when he’d first met her,  James had been sure she’d hook up with one of his brothers. Women like Gracie  always  went for guys like his brothers. At first he’d assumed Shane, because they’d hit it off so well, but that hope had been dashed as soon as Cecilia had shown up.
At his sister Maddie’s wedding, his younger brother, Evan, had been all over Gracie, but to  James’s surprise she’d rebuffed his advances with that good-natured charm she turned on ever yone but him.  James still didn’t understand why. Evan hadn’t heard the word no since he was fourteen. His brother was a six-five, star NFL wide receiver. He’d been to the Pro Bowl. And while she flirted with him shamelessly, she hadn’t acted.
Gracie remained stubbornly unattached. Which irritated him more than if they were actually sleeping together; if Evan had sex with Gracie, she’d be off the table and his problems with her would be solved.
“Are you going to do something about that?” Shane’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
James jerked his attention away from the staircase  Gracie disappeared up and rested his palms against the marble countertops. “I don’t know what you mean.”
His older brother’s green eyes narrowed. In that moment, with that particular expression on his face, he looked the spitting image of their father, and  James experienced the dull ache of loss that never went away, no matter how much time passed.
“The tension between the two of you is becoming annoying.”
“It’s not tension,” James said in a cool, well-modulated tone. “It’s dislike. There’s a difference.”
Yes, they might have an undercurrent of chemistry, but it was crystal clear neither wanted anything to do with it.
He certainly didn’t. He liked his women rational.
“Bullshit. Stop beating around the bush and take care of it before you get a permanent case of blue balls.”
“Charming as always.”  James kept his face relaxed and impassive. He’d made damn sure no one knew the extent of his lust for Gracie, but of course he didn’t fool Shane. “In case you haven’t noticed, she’s not a fan.”
“For a smart guy you sure are stupid.”

It was easy for guys like his brothers. They saw something they liked, and they went for it, consequences be damned.
James liked a little more planning than that. And while he’d put the insecurities of his youth to bed years ago, he was careful about his relationships.  James raised a brow at Shane. “At a bare minimum I require my partners to respect me.”
Shane grinned. “Respect is overrated. Take her to bed and get it out of your system.”
An image of tangled sheets and a naked Gracie filled his mind, but  James shook it off. “Mind your own business.”
“I don’t understand you at all.”
That was pretty much par for the course.  James had never been like the rest of them and never would be.
Their baby sister, Maddie, might be the tiny one in the family, but she was all fierce and spirited like his brothers.
James accepted a long time ago he was the odd man out, and he’d given up wishing he could be like them the night of the car accident, when his father had died and his sister had lain in a coma.
His siblings were impulsive.  James was the reasonable one. They didn’t get it and he didn’t blame them. It was hard to explain to people who thrived on risk that he liked his life orderly. Neat. Discipline and structure had helped him survive and become the man he was today.
It had saved him and he had no desire to go back. He liked his life boring and predictable, even if it meant nobody understood him.
Yes, like any red-blooded man, he’d like to go to bed with Gracie and lose himself in her body and all that heat. But he’d examined the situation from all angles and saw no practical reason to satiate his desire. If, on the off chance she agreed—a highly unlikely scenario as she’d made her dislike crystal clear—it would be a disaster. Their personalities were at complete odds and it would end with her hating him more than she already did.
Sex was the only upside.
While it was a considerable upside, in the end it would do more harm than good. Instinct told him that not knowing how she’d feel under his hands and mouth was a good thing. The last thing he needed was the memory of what it felt like to slide inside her. Or how it would feel when she came.
He shook his head to clear the illicit thoughts. In the end, they were oil and water. Incompatible in every way that mattered to him.
“Stop thinking and just do it already.” Shane’s exasperated tone matched the expression on his face.
James didn’t bother to explain what his brother would never understand. “Don’t we have boxes to move?”
“Chicken shit,” Shane said.
“Smart,” James corrected.
“Well, if you won’t do anything about the situation, at least stop rising to the bait. She wants a reaction.”
“I’m fairly certain she doesn’t want anything from me.”  James turned around and picked up a box, thinking through Shane’s statement.
Why  did  he fight with her? He didn’t fight with anyone else. As far as he could tell he was the only person Gracie didn’t get along with. Was arguing a way to engage her?
To hold her attention?
He couldn’t dismiss the idea entirely. Not when he thought about how her sharp tongue made him hard.
She might lay down the kindling, but he added the flame.
He must have a motive for engaging in repartee with Gracie. A motive he’d have to analyze at a later date when she wasn’t around to distract him.
But to Shane’s point, not rising to her bait was a concrete action he could take. He’d be around her the whole weekend. More than enough time to see the cause and effect of being cordial. He could be nice and polite for forty-eight hours. He turned the idea over in his mind, examining it from different angles, and couldn’t see the harm. It would be a good test of her reactions, and his own. To see if the antagonism between them was habit, or the only way to deal with the subtle and inconvenient attraction that he fought against and she flat-out ignored. Once he conducted his experiment, and examined the outcomes, he’d come up with a reasonable hypothesis and course of action.
He’d ignore Gracie’s barbs and be pleasant to her.
He managed civility with colleagues and students at his university downtown every day; surely he could apply the same strategies here.
It was only a weekend. How hard could it be?

 

Chapter Two

Five hours later Gracie was exhausted, and cursing Cecilia’s big closet. She eyed the shoebox on the top shelf in the back corner, hovering out of her reach. She stood on tiptoes, stretching her five feet, six inches to maximum height. Her fingertips brushed the box, which pushed it farther out of her reach. “Shit!”
She tried again but the shoes stayed firmly out of her grasp.
“Here, let me,” a deep voice said from behind.
She screeched, whirling around to see  James leaning against the doorframe. She placed a hand over her pounding heart. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” He straightened. “Let me help you.”
She eyed him with suspicion. “Why?”
His jaw hardened, his mouth opened, but then he shook his head and his features relaxed. “Because I’m taller than you and thought it would fulfill my daily chivalry quota.”
She resisted the urge to stick out her tongue. Childish, but he brought out the worst in her. She cocked a brow.
“I bet you do have a quota, along with a checklist.”
“Correct. I store it in my analytics software.” His voice was totally deadpan.
“You know what’s sad?” She planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t think that’s a joke.”
“I never joke. I have no sense of humor.” Expression stoic, he crossed his arms over his impossibly broad chest.
“So I’ve noticed.”
He shrugged. “It’s not on the checklist.”
Not quite the response she’d been looking for. She frowned. When forced to spend time with the professor, their sparring matches were the one thing on which she could depend.
But he hadn’t risen to the bait since their argument that morning.
The man had been downright nice. Which, strangely, turned out to be as irritating as when he argued with her. More so, if she was honest. She couldn’t start being nice to him now; it threw off their whole dynamic, and then where would she be?
She gave him an overly sweet smile. “Do you think I need a big, strong man to come to my rescue?”
“No.  Just a taller one.” His voice was so mild it raised the fine hairs at the nape of her neck.
“Don’t be cute.” Wow. Now didn’t she sound petulant? She should be rejoicing in his cease-fire, but instead she kept pushing his buttons, hoping for some kind of reaction she knew what to do with. She should have him lapping out of the palm of her hand, but he never played by the rules.
He straightened and his chest seemed to expand, spreading the  Empire Strikes Back  logo on his T-shirt ominously over his broad muscles. With a sigh, he took a step toward her.
The urge to step back roared to life. How silly. She had nothing to be nervous about. He was a geeky professor.
He advanced on her with a look in his evergreen eyes she’d never seen before. He looked . . . determined.
She gulped.
His long legs ate up the floor separating them and her heart rate sped up, her mouth going dry as she fought the desire to retreat.
This was James. The most harmless man on the planet.
He’d eaten a salad for lunch. A salad! With lemon juice and olive oil for dressing, while the rest of them ate Italian beef sandwiches.
She squared her shoulders, tugging at her top. She was not nervous. She didn’t get nervous.
He stopped inches from her. He was close. Closer than he’d ever been. And they were alone. She couldn’t even hear the distant sounds of the movers.
She didn’t know how the silent pact started, but they had always made sure they were never left alone together. And here he was, changing the rules. She sucked in a breath. Oh no. He smelled good.
Like work and leather and man. They’d been doing manual labor for hours; how could he smell so good?
Suddenly he seemed too tall. Too broad. Her vision of him expanded as he stretched outside the box where she kept him. Throat dry, she swallowed. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m being helpful.” He smiled, and to her shock one dimple deepened his left cheek. Where had that been hiding?
It occurred to her she’d never seen it because he never smiled at her. He only glowered. The glower she could handle, the dimple she could not.
Heat radiated off him, warming her from head to toe, making her stomach jump, suspiciously like arousal.
This was not a turn-on. If  he  turned her on she needed to have sex ASAP. She frowned. “Stop it. You’re being annoying again.”
His gaze met hers. This close, his eyes were startling green mixed with hints of blue, thus explaining their cool undertones.
His attention drifted to her mouth, and to her dismay her breath caught. She crossed her arms over her chest to hide what felt like nipple tightening, tapped one foot, and pointed at the shoebox. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
His lips quirked. “I thought my help annoyed you.”
If he could play it cool, so could she. She shrugged.
“You’re here. Might as well make yourself useful.”
“I suppose you’ll have to suffer through the torture.”
He shook his head, his full mouth creased in feigned sympathy. “However will you sleep tonight?”
With a scornful twist of her lips, she said, “I can assure you, when I’m lying in bed at night, you’re the last person who comes to mind.”
It was a lie. She did think of him sometimes, but only to ruminate on how much he maddened her. Nothing else. Well, okay, she had, on occasion, imagined how horrible he must be in bed. But that barely counted.
He didn’t speak, just stepped closer, his expression filled with a healthy dose of skepticism.
Was he trying to intimidate her? Because it wouldn’t work.
She had years of practice handling men. A skill she’d developed quickly when she’d turned fifteen and developed double-D breasts seemingly overnight. The first time a man hadn’t been able to tear his gaze from her cleavage, her momma had sat her down and they’d had a long talk about how Gracie had to be careful. She had taken the lesson to heart and learned to stay one step ahead of men ever since.
She raised a brow. “Is there any particular reason you’re standing right on top of me?”
One large hand slid onto her hip, making her jump.
The heat of his palm seemed to sear right through her, leaving an imprint on her skin through her jeans.
“You’re in my way.”
“What?”
His fingers squeezed her hip, sending a jolt of something she refused to name ping-ponging through her.
He bent his head, and when he spoke his voice was low.
“You’re in my way.”
And then he pushed her to the side.
She swayed, the imprint of his hand still branding her skin. With ease, he picked up the box and handed it to her with what looked a hell of a lot like a smirk.
Her mouth fell open, but before she could say anything, Cecilia called out, “Gracie?”
Heat fanned over her neck, splashing onto her cheeks.
A moment later Cecilia stood in the doorway of the closet, cell in hand. She glanced back and forth between the two of them. “What’s going on? ”

Gracie held the shoebox with an iron grip. “Nothing.
Nothing at all. What could be going on?” The words tumbled too quickly from her lips, making her sound guilty when she had absolutely nothing to be guilty about. He’d helped her. That was all. She cleared her throat. “What’s up?” A small smile on her lips, Cecilia’s brows rose. She held up her phone. “That was Maddie. They left Revival
early and will be here in an hour. We thought it would be fun to go to dinner tonight before the craziness of the weekend starts.  Just the six of us.”
The six of them. Mitch and Maddie. Shane and Cecilia.
Her and . . . She shot a sidelong glance at the man standing silent next to her.
James.
“What about Evan?” she asked, in a hope-filled voice.
If he went too, it would be less like couples and she’d have his flirting to distract her.
Something flashed in  James’s expression, but it was gone before she could decipher its meaning.
“He’s got a team charity event tonight,” Cecilia said.
Ugh! Her mind frantically flew through the names of other friends who might attend, but she kept her mouth shut as it would be too obvious she didn’t want to be James’s date. She cast another discreet glance in his direction. He studied her with a sharp gaze behind his black frames. She hastily looked away.
She’d spent all day with him. She had to see him all weekend. She didn’t want to go to dinner with him too.
“I don’t have anything to wear.”
“You can borrow something of mine,” Cecilia said.
Ha! Gracie probably outweighed her friend by at least thirty pounds. She eyed Cecilia’s small chest. “Let’s ignore the fact that I couldn’t fit one leg into any of your clothes; they’re all packed away.”
Cecilia waved her hand. “We have reservations but we can change them to somewhere casual and you can wear what you have on.”
Gracie wrinkled her nose. “You want me to wear clothes I’ve moved in all day? No, thank you.”
“Come on, it will be fun. Shane knows the owner of this new place and already got us a prime table. I promise you’ll love it.” Cecilia turned to  James and held her hands in prayer, her cell sticking out like a steeple. “You’re in, aren’t you?”
His vision flickered over Gracie, then he smiled at his future sister-in-law. “Sure, I’m in.”
“Great! It’s our treat to repay you for all your work.”
Ce-Ce beamed a smile at him before shifting her attention to Gracie. “Please? I have a black dress that I’m sure will work.”
Gracie looked her friend up and down. “Does it stretch?”
Cecilia grinned. “Enough to give everyone a heart attack.”
Fantastic. But how could she say no without looking like an ingrate? She sighed. “All right.”
“I’ll go call Maddie.” And with that, Cecilia was off, leaving Gracie alone with  James.
She swung around to face him. “What did you go and do that for?”
“Do what?”  James asked. Was that amusement in his voice?
Gracie pointed toward the now empty doorway. “Do you really want to go to dinner with the love brigade?”
One brow rose up his forehead. “Afraid people will think we’re a couple?”
“As if. Nobody in their right mind would think that.”
He stiffened. “This isn’t about us. It’s about Shane and Cecilia.”
“There is no  us,” she hissed.
He stared at her for a long, uncomfortable moment before shrugging. “Suit yourself. Don’t go.”
Then he walked away without a backward glance, leaving her alone in the closet.

Something squeezed tight in her chest. Something that felt a lot like loneliness. Which was silly. She had everything she needed. Her life was perfect.

* * *
James sat with Shane and their brother-in-law, Mitch, in the mess of his brother’s new living room, surrounded by boxes the movers had left, while they waited for the girls to finish getting ready.
“Nice place you’ve got here,” Mitch said, examining the spacious room with its high ceilings, his beer clutched loosely in one hand. “Although both of you moving the day before your engagement party seems like biting off more than even you can chew.”
Shane shrugged and glanced up the wide staircase leading to the second floor. “Ce-ce didn’t want to wait.”
Mitch eyed him with that speculative lawyer’s expression he wore. “My sister is hardly the impatient type.”
Shane grinned. “I guess she couldn’t wait to shack up with me.”
Mitch shuddered as though the room had taken on a sudden chill. “I’m not sure I’m ever going to get used to you and my sister.”
Shane cocked his head, grinning. “What are you talking about? I’m the traumatized one. I’m still having nightmares of when you and  my  sister stayed with us last time. Seriously, man, if you’re going to do that kind of shit, get a hotel room.”
Mitch laughed, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “Don’t pretend you weren’t trying to outdo me.”
James shook his head at the both of them. It was just his luck that Mitch and Shane were the two most competitive men on the planet. And now, involved with each other’s sisters,  James was forced to endure endless discussions about who was more disgusted over the near constant displays of affection displayed by the couples.
They never seemed to grow tired of the game and constantly ribbed each other. While  James was disgusted by both of them, he gave a slight advantage to Mitch, since Maddie was his sister too, after all. He had to agree with Shane that it was rather disconcerting to walk into a room and catch his brother-in-law’s hands up his sweet sister’s top.
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 nu-clear 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 suitable 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 ever yone 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 for ward 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, 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 sheep-ishly 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 through 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 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 non-existent 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.
Gracie needed to know what they were talking about right now. But she couldn’t very well ask. She scanned the table and settled on her target. Mitch. After living next door to him for so many years in Revival, she’d been friends with him longer than anyone else at the table. She picked up her water glass, cleared her throat, and zeroed in on him. She narrowed her eyes, staring at him until he sensed her and glanced in her direction.
Ask what’s going on. Ask what’s going on. Ask what’s going on.  A frantic chant in her head.
Amber eyes dancing with amusement, he raised a brow. “What?”
Stupid man. She sighed and tilted her head fractionally at his wife.
Mitch stared at her for ten full seconds and then comprehension dawned, lighting his expression. He poked Maddie’s waist, and pointed in Gracie’s direction.
“Gracie wants to know what’s going on.”
The rat bastard. She huffed. “You’re the worst friend ever.”
With a sly smile, he shrugged. “Turnabout is fair play.”
“What did I ever do to you?”

“Do you want a list?”
Since they’d known each other since childhood, when Mitch and Cecilia would come visit their grandparents in Revival every summer, Gracie wasn’t surprised he had a standing list of grievances.
She shifted her attention toward Maddie. Cover blown, she might as well ask all the questions burning a hole in her gut. “Who is that woman?”
Maddie glanced around and leaned forward.
Gracie held her breath. It was his girlfriend. Gracie could feel it in her bones.
“Lindsey and  James met in graduate school,” Maddie said.
Gracie experienced a sinking in her stomach.
“They were together for five years. We thought they were going to get married, but then one day she wasn’t with him for Sunday dinner,” Maddie continued, ripping Gracie away from the questions racing through her head.
Gracie released her pent-up breath. Not a girlfriend.
An  ex-girlfriend. But, still, there were obviously feelings there. Or were there? She got along famously with Charlie. They even flirted sometimes. It was possible to have a good, nonsexual relationship with someone you used to sleep with. She was living proof of that.
But she didn’t look at Charlie like she wanted to eat him for dinner.
Gracie blinked, realizing Maddie was still talking.
“We asked what happened, but all he would say was that they were no longer together. He refused to say why the relationship ended.” She turned her extremely cute but worried face toward Shane. “Has he even seen her since then? Or is this the first time?”
Shane shrugged. “I have no idea. You know how he is.”
Questions burned in Gracie’s brain, but, afraid they’d tumble out and reveal her unnatural curiosity, she pressed her lips together and prayed Maddie would fill in the silence. When she didn’t, Gracie coolly turned her attention to the menu. “Interesting.”
“What’s interesting?”  James asked from behind her, making her jump, thus explaining why Maddie hadn’t elaborated. He slid into the empty seat next to Gracie.
Silence filled the table as they all looked at him.
He raised a brow.
Gracie waited for Shane or Maddie to say something, but they didn’t.
The silence grew.
“What’s going on?”  James asked, his tone filled with suspicion.
“Nothing,” Maddie said, straightening in her chair.
More awkward silence.
Something broke inside Gracie and, per usual, her mouth ran away with her. “We were talking about you and your ex-girlfriend. They’re worried you’re going to freak out over seeing her.”
The whole table gaped at her, and heat crawled up her neck. She tilted her chin and said before she put any thought into it, “And what kind of name is Lindsey Lord? Is she a stripper?”
James blinked at Gracie, a smile threatening at the corners of his mouth. He raised a brow. “Stripper?” The idea of the refined Lindsey circling a stripper pole was laughable. Lindsey was so far from anything resembling a porn star, the notion was preposterous. She was refined, highly intelligent, and very well respected in her field. “She’s a physicist at the University of Chicago.”
Gracie frowned and waved her hand through the air.
“Same difference.”
James laughed, and her eyes widened in surprise.
“Hardly. But I can assure you I’m not about to freak out.”
Shane drained half a glass of water before he said,
“Yeah, you never do.”

Maddie leaned forward, her expression concerned.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”  James turned to his menu, hoping to close the subject. They’d assumed Lindsey had ended their relationship and left him heartbroken, and he’d never bothered to disabuse them of the notion. The truth was, he’d broken up with her and let people fill in the blanks as they chose. His rationale had been twofold: he’d wanted to protect her privacy, and it freed him from explaining his unexplainable actions.
After five years together, Lindsey had wanted to get engaged. It made sense. On paper, she’d been perfect for him. She was smart, beautiful, and accomplished.
They had the same interests, same educational background, were both in academia, and had the same values and life goals. Lindsey was about as perfect for him as a woman could get, but something had been missing.
Every time he’d planned on buying an engagement ring, he hadn’t been able to walk into the store.
He’d searched his mind for what it was and couldn’t come up with a sound justification for his apathy. The only thing he’d been able to pinpoint was that he’d never looked at her the way his dad had looked at his mom.
An abstract reason, but true, nonetheless. His world had been pleasant when she’d been around. He’d enjoyed her company. But the sun didn’t rise and fall because of her, and in the end, it wasn’t enough.
No one had ever guessed he’d been the one to break her heart. She’d been devastated, he’d felt horrible, and letting people think she’d dumped him seemed the kind thing to do.
Despite what his family believed, he’d seen her numerous times since the breakup, although it had been a while. Not so long that he didn’t recognize her flirting, or the way her lashes fluttered at him. If he chose, tonight after dinner, he could go to her house and she’d let him in. They’d go to bed and the sex would be great. They’d talk and laugh. Share stories about students and colleagues. Discuss papers they’d written and fall right back into the old rhythms of their relationship. But, in the morning, he still wouldn’t look at her the right way, and he wouldn’t be able to explain why, any better than the first time.
“Not true,” Gracie said, stirring him from his thoughts.
“You freaked out at me.”
James turned to the woman who was equal parts nightmare and fantasy. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
Gracie shook her head, her curls flying. “You were definitely mad.”
“You provoked me.” Mad wasn’t the right word. She frustrated him. He’d never been attracted to someone he had nothing in common with. Who disliked him so intensely. How could he barely be in the same room with her without an argument, and still want her?
She sighed, a deep, resigned sound. “Yeah, I did and I’m sorry.”
Surprise lit through him. Had he heard her right?
From the corner of his vision he could see the two couples watching them with rapt attention. He shrugged. “I might have overreacted a little.”
“I pushed,” she said, a smile flirting over her lips. She tilted her head toward the couples. “Maybe, for the sake of the lovebirds, we could call a truce?”
It had been his goal all day, so why didn’t it sit well with him? He nodded. “I’d like that.”
Their gazes locked, and a glimmer of something passed between them, before she jerked her attention away and picked up her menu. “It’s settled then. What’s good here?”
As usual, everyone started talking at once.
James returned to his own menu, scanning the items, not really paying attention to the food or the conversation. Her desire to call a truce sat like a thorn in his side.
He’d accomplished what he’d set out to do this morning, but at an unwelcome cost.
The truth.
A part of him liked how she baited him, because deep down he’d wanted to believe it meant something. When he’d stayed behind to talk to Lindsey, it hadn’t been to catch up with her. He’d wanted to see if Gracie might get jealous.
Lindsey was a beautiful woman, and he couldn’t deny he’d wanted Gracie to see that he wasn’t quite the geek she thought he was. That, while she believed he sat in his basement playing  World of Warcraft, in reality he was as capable as any other man of landing a pretty girl.

But, as with all his plans with Gracie, it had backfired.
While she seemed interested in his relationship with Lindsey, and her barb about Lindsey’s name rang with a hint of jealousy, she now wanted to drop the hostility.
After being nice to Gracie all day, now that she’d met Lindsey she wanted to call a truce. He pondered what it meant. Why did she have to be such a difficult read?
He didn’t have this kind of trouble with other women.
In fairness, with another woman, he’d ask her to explain and expect a straightfor ward answer. An option not available to him and the vexing Gracie, where every conversation, no matter how simple, turned into a raging fight.
So, with direct communication off the table, he could only apply the Occam’s razor principle to derive the most logical conclusion. Gracie, like him, wished he’d meet someone, thereby rendering their chemistry moot.
Thus, when she met Lindsey, she’d determined  James no longer posed a threat and she could therefore relax.
It was the simplest, most straightforward reason.
He should be happy about this turn of events. In fact, this worked in his favor, since they were as incompatible as two people could be. Even if attraction existed, there was no future there. The thought of all her chaos in his well-ordered life was enough to give him hives.
Now that things were settled he’d be able to have a nice, cordial relationship with her. He’d treat her like he treated his coworkers. Since she’d decided to stop baiting him, he, in turn, would stop thinking about her sassy mouth. He’d force himself to stop thinking about ways he could put all that energy she had to good use. Or what it would be like to—no, stop.
No traveling down that road. He’d spent years mas-tering the art of discipline, and he’d apply the same principles to his relationship with her.
Eventually his willpower would win. It always did.
Gracie had given up on sleep and crept downstairs to sit in the bay window of Shane and Cecilia’s new house.

She hadn’t wanted to stay, insisting that the couple should be alone on their first night, but they’d refused to listen. Seeing how Mitch and Maddie stayed as well, Gracie didn’t have a great argument for going to a hotel.
She sighed. Her body was exhausted but her mind wouldn’t let her rest, so here she was, in the dark, amidst half-empty boxes.
The city skyline was lit up, still awake and alive despite the late hour. Back home it would be pitch-black and dead silent, the sky filled with nothing but a million stars. She stared up into the sky, gray with light pollution, and missed the comfort back home.
Tonight had confused her. She’d kept her promise and been nice to  James. Some of their antagonism seemed to have broken. She should be thankful. But she wasn’t.
And the thing she hated most was that she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She’d been lying in bed, staring at the newly painted ceiling, unable to stop replaying every interaction she’d had with him today. Sure, she focused on the things that annoyed her—like how he’d had ahi tuna for dinner and berries for dessert, while she’d gorged on molten lava cake—but she didn’t like how she couldn’t stop.
“I thought I heard you,” Cecilia said, and Gracie about jumped out of her skin.
“Shit!” she exclaimed, looking over her shoulder.
“You scared me.”
“Sorry.” Cecilia came over to the window seat alongside her. “Shane says he’s going to put a bell on me so he knows I’m coming.”
“I guess all those years of ballet make you sneaky,”
Gracie said, scooting into the corner to give her friend more room.
Cecilia laughed. “I guess so.”
Gracie gave Cecilia a sly smirk. “Although, if Shane doesn’t know you’re coming, he’s doing something wrong.”
A wistful, love-soaked expression floated over Cecilia’s face. “Nothing wrong there. The man is a deviant.”
Not surprised at all, Gracie grinned. “You lucked out, Ce-ce. I wonder how the professor got so straitlaced.”
She cringed. Why on earth had she brought him up?
Cecilia cocked her head to the side. “What makes you think  James is straitlaced?”
She blew out a long breath. Stupid. “Please. Look at him. He’s wound so tight he’s bound to be a dud in the sack.”
“His ex-girlfriend looked more than willing to take him back,” Cecilia said.
Gracie shrugged, turning her attention to the window, silently cursing herself for bringing up  James. The image of him smiling down at the pretty Lindsey irritated her in a way she refused to contemplate. “The skyline sure is pretty. So different from Revival, don’t you think?”
Cecilia was silent for a long time before she sighed.
“Gracie, why don’t you just admit it?”
“Admit what?” Her heart rate kicked up a beat.
“You’re attracted to James.” Cecilia’s words were blunt, hard blows to the chest.
Gracie’s head snapped back and she scowled. “I am not!”
She wasn’t. He bothered her. Everything about him irritated her. She scowled at Cecilia. “Don’t confuse tension with attraction. It’s not like you and Shane.”
“But it is  something. Come on, admit it. You don’t think he’s the least bit sexy?”
Gracie could only stare at her, openmouthed. “Of course not.”
Yes, she conceded that he was quite good-looking,
and he looked pretty hot tonight, but he wasn’t her type at all. And he was  not  sexy.
Cecilia shrugged. “I think you’re lying to yourself. You like him, Gracie. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
“How could you possibly think that? Can you even imagine?”
“Let me ask you this: How long after meeting  James did you break things off with Charlie?”
Gracie couldn’t believe this. She shook her head.
“They have nothing to do with each other. I broke things off with Charlie because I was tired of coasting.
Things had gotten routine and comfortable. It’s just coincidence the events coincided.”
“Hmm . . .” Cecilia’s voice trailed off, and she tucked her long legs underneath her.
“What?” Gracie asked, cringing at the defensiveness in her tone.
Cecilia smoothed down her tank top. “When’s the last time you went on a date?”
Gracie blinked, then blinked again. “I went out with the new football coach.”
“But you turned down a second date.”
“So?”
“I’m just saying, you haven’t gone out with anyone since you met  James, and that seems a bit odd.”
“I live in Revival, where I’ve known everyone since birth. New people are hard to come by, but I’ve dated plenty. I just haven’t met anyone who interests me.
Simple as that.” Gracie watched the lights blinking on the top of the  John Hancock building. There was no relationship between her dry spell and  James. None at all. She’d never been great at commitment. Unfortunately, she was like her father that way.
“What about sex?” Cecilia continued her probing, looking for meanings where there weren’t any.
“What’s that?” Gracie laughed, meaning to sound breezy, but instead the sound came out a bit choked.
“You know Charlie would take care of any itch you have, and you’ve told me often enough he’s great in bed, so what’s stopping you?”

Not  James.” Gracie frowned, blowing out a deep breath. “I don’t want to fall into that pattern again. Is that so hard to understand?”
“Nope, not at all.” Cecilia looked at her, her face soft in the lights of the window. So different from all the hardness she used to carry around with her. “I guess I’m wrong.”
“You are.” She was.
Gracie did not have the hots for the professor. She thought of the flare of awareness she’d experienced in the closet when he’d stood so close to her. The way she’d dug her nails into her palm when he’d smiled at his ex-girlfriend. The idea that kept slipping into her mind of them in bed together, maybe even right now.
No. She refused to even think about that. Absolutely refused.

Message from Jen

I hope you’ve enjoyed meeting Gracie and James. To read the rest of their story pick up your copy of The Name of the Game in stores September 29, 2015.

[show-book title=”The Name of the Game”]