The
Name Of The Game
Something New #3
Something New #3
By: Jennifer Dawson
Releasing September 29, 2015
Zebra
BUY LINKS
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?
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.
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