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THE NAME OF THE GAME
Something New #3
Jennifer Dawson
Releasing Sept 29th, 2015
Zebra: Kensington
"An author to watch out for." --RT Book Reviews
Some people follow the rules. . .
A professor of forensic anthropology, James Donovan is the reasonable sibling among the passionate, impulsive Donovans. But there's nothing reasonable about his reaction to baker Gracie Roberts. She's all wild curls and mouth-watering curves, as deliciously tempting as the sugary treats she's famous for--and twice as irritating. But before long, James decides that getting a taste of her is one indulgence he can't pass up. . .
Some people play to win. . .
Independent, smart, and sexy, Gracie's year-long dry spell has her itching for a man. Responsible, health-obsessed James? Not in a million years! She needs a guy who knows how to let loose! But when James sets out to show her just how satisfying a disciplined man can be when pleasure is at stake, she learns just how sweet--and spicy--he really is.
Have James and Gracie found the recipe for love?
Chapter Four
Gracie pulled up to the Donovan
family’s brick bungalow and turned off the ignition. The modest
house was located in a tight-knit neighborhood on the South Side of
Chicago and looked nearly identical to all the other bungalows lining
the street, except for the brightly colored balloons next to the
door.
She got out of the car and walked
up the steps. Today’s event was at Shannon Donovan’s house. The
mother of the groom had wanted a close-family-andfriends celebration
before the official engagement party tonight. Gracie blew out a deep
breath. Another day with the Donovan clan, and a new opportunity to
change her ways with the professor.
As she’d been here before, she
knocked on the door and then walked in.
An explosion was followed by a
sound of rapid machine-gun fire, so loud it had to shake the plaster
off the walls of the small foyer. Gracie peered into the small living
room to find James playing a video game with a chubby, angel-faced
boy around twelve or thirteen.
Neither of them glanced in her
direction.
Controller in hand, James’s
attention was riveted on the flat-screen television. The line of his
jaw was hard, his cheekbones defined, as he concentrated on the game.
“Flank him. Go. Go. Go,” James
yelled, gesturing wildly with his controller.
Gracie had never seen him so
animated before. The sight was riveting.
The boy’s arms flailed as his
thumbs frantically worked across the controller. “To your left.”
One of the guys in military garb on
the screen moved and James said, “You’ve got it, take the shot.”
The other animated soldier dropped
to one knee and shot, filling the screen with the splatter of blood
and brains flying through the air before the screen cut to another
scene.
“Yes!” The boy whooped, his
face alight with the thrill of virtual victory.
“Did you see his head explode?”
James grinned, leaning back on the floral brocade couch. The feminine
fabric highlighted the masculinity of his face, the broadness of his
shoulders in a black waffle-knit shirt.
Gracie couldn’t help but be
charmed at the excited expression the professor wore. She’d never
seen him look so carefree or unreserved.
The boy looked at James with
complete adoration, a sweet smile on his round face. “That was
awesome.”
Gracie stepped into the room and
leaned against the doorframe, finally making her presence known so
she wouldn’t be caught gawking. “That was some impressive
splatter.”
They looked at her.
James’s gaze flickered over her
body. “Gracie.”
She fought the urge to stiffen at
his cool tone. It was a casual brunch, so she wore jeans and a black
scoop-neck knit top that highlighted her blond hair and curves. She’d
made damn sure she looked good, covering the shadows under her eyes
with concealer.
“Professor,” she returned
before beaming at the boy. His mouth hung open as he gaped at her.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
James’s mouth quirked as he
noticed the boy’s stunned expression. Gracie thought she detected
an eye roll but she couldn’t be sure.
James jostled the kid out of his
daze and said, “Gracie Roberts, this is my cousin, Declan.”
Gracie walked over and stuck out
her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Declan.”
The boy turned scarlet as his
sweaty palm slid into hers. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Gracie waved. “Ha, ma’am makes
me feel like I’m a hundred years old. Call me Gracie.” She jutted
her chin toward the television. “Nice shooting. Maybe later you can
show me how it’s done.”
Declan flushed an even deeper shade
of red, jerking his gaze toward the professor. “James did all the
hard stuff.”
Gracie shrugged. “From what I saw
you delivered the kill shot.”
James smiled at her, a real smile,
one that flashed the mysterious dimple, and Gracie’s heart gave a
hard lurch. In a split second, like the sudden strike of lightning,
she saw it. The sun streamed through the window, highlighting the
gold in his hair, and she saw the man she’d been refusing to
acknowledge since she’d met him. The one everyone else saw. The man
Lindsey Lord looked at like a god and Cecilia thought sexy.
The man who called to some deep,
secret place inside her. The attraction that pulled at her while she
focused instead on all the things about him that irritated her. The
world swung and she blinked, taking a step back.
Oh no.
The smile transformed into concern
and he stood, walking toward her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded even as a swell of heat
washed through her.
No. No. No. Not him. Anyone but
him. He was all wrong for her. He was her best friend’s brother. He
was secure and stable.
He was coming closer. Too close.
Awareness flared, impossible to ignore.
He was going to touch her. A second
later he gripped her arm and she gasped. “You’re as white as a
sheet.”
A jolt of electricity shot up her
arm. He was one of those solid-relationship guys who mowed the lawn
and had five-year plans. She straightened and squared her shoulders.
“I’m fine.”
He didn’t eat carbs! Or sugar!
Flour was a part of her life. She was a baker.
His forehead creased. “Are you
sure?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice too
breathless. He needed to stop touching her. She needed space to get a
handle on this. She blurted the first thing that popped into her
head. “I have the cake in my truck.”
His hand dropped away and she could
finally breathe. “I can go get it.”
James’s black shirt stretched
over his broad chest. Her fingers twitched as a startling visual of
tracing her hands over the lines of all those muscles filled her
mind.
Oh no. Where was his geek-wear? She
needed a pair of chinos, stat. She cleared her throat. “It’s a
two-man job; you’ll need help.”
He nodded. “Are you sure you’re
okay? You look a little shaky.”
“I’m great. Just tired.” Her
gaze snagged on his mouth, his full mouth, but instead of focusing on
what a horrible kisser he’d be, she could see it. Feel his mouth
moving over hers. She sucked in a breath. “I’m used to sleeping
in my own bed.”
Expression filled with disbelief,
he was clearly perplexed by her behavior. He started to say
something, but Evan came in and his mouth snapped shut.
He stepped away.
Out of the corner of her vision,
she saw James’s face smooth over into the cool remoteness he always
seemed to wear whenever she was around.
“There she is.” Evan bounded
over to her and swept her up in his powerful arms, giving her a big
smacking kiss on the lips. “How’s my favorite girl?”
Thankful for the distraction from
her troubling thoughts, she laughed and swatted the pro football
player and resident wild-child away, relaxing into the easy
flirtation. “Ah, if only I could believe you, but after last week’s
game you told that pretty reporter with the red hair the same thing.”
“But with you I mean it.” Evan
grinned down at her. At six-five he was built like a Greek god
crossed with, well, a pro football player. With the Donovan family’s
green eyes and dark brown hair, he was about as gorgeous as a man
could be. Considered one of the best wide receivers in the game, he
was a media favorite, with all his crazy antics and a new supermodel
every week.
He loved to flirt, and she flirted
right back. “You’re a liar, but I still love you.”
Since they’d met he’d made it
plenty clear he’d take her to bed without even the slightest
encouragement. He’d whispered outrageous things in her ear. Hugged
her. Teased her. They’d gotten drunk together on more than one
occasion, and yet she’d never given him the opportunity to make a
move. Why?
He was a hot-as-hell, wild,
testosterone-soaked, NFL Pro Bowl-er. Women lined up for a chance to
be in his bed. So what the hell was wrong with her? Sure, it would be
a fling, because there’s no way Evan was a settlingdown kind of
guy, but he’d be the best kind of fling. They’d have fantastic,
sweaty sex and still be friends the next morning. So why hadn’t she
jumped at the chance to get between the sheets with the notorious
Evan Donovan?
She turned and her gaze collided
with James’s. His arms were crossed, his expression had turned
stormy, and his jaw was firmed into a hard line.
Heat spiked across her skin and her
belly jumped. Cecilia was right.
It was because of him.
Jennifer Dawson grew up in the suburbs of Chicago and graduated from DePaul University with a degree in psychology. She met her husband at the public library while they were studying. To this day she still maintains she was NOT checking him out. Now, over twenty years later, they’re married and living in a suburb right outside of Chicago with two awesome kids and a crazy dog.
Despite going through a light FM, poem writing phase in high school, Jennifer never grew up wanting to be a writer (she had more practical aspirations of being an international super spy). Then one day, suffering from boredom and disgruntled with a book she’d been reading, she decided to put pen to paper. The rest, as they say, is history.
These days Jennifer can be found sitting behind her computer, writing her next novel, chasing after her kids, keeping an ever watchful eye on her ever growing to-do list, and NOT checking out her husband.
Despite going through a light FM, poem writing phase in high school, Jennifer never grew up wanting to be a writer (she had more practical aspirations of being an international super spy). Then one day, suffering from boredom and disgruntled with a book she’d been reading, she decided to put pen to paper. The rest, as they say, is history.
These days Jennifer can be found sitting behind her computer, writing her next novel, chasing after her kids, keeping an ever watchful eye on her ever growing to-do list, and NOT checking out her husband.
