Playing for Hearts (11 page)

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Authors: Debra Kayn

Tags: #romance, #contemporary

BOOK: Playing for Hearts
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She looked at Grayson and groaned. God, he was the best kisser.

How was she supposed to walk into the room and pretend to know what she was doing when Grayson wiped every single intelligent thought from her head? She patted her cheeks, brushed her hair behind her shoulders and stepped forward, doing her best not to look at him. She'd conquer the meeting because more than ever, she needed to prove herself.

Shauna walked down the hall with a purpose in her step, flung open the door, and smiled. “Thank you all for coming. I know this meeting was on short notice, but what I have to say will hopefully make up for the inconvenience.”

She glanced from one city council member to the next, around the board table, staring back at her and expecting a miracle. Not wasting a second, she stood at the head of the table and passed a bundle of folders to Mr. Stephenson on her right.

“As you know, hard economic times have hit every person in Cottage Grove. From the outlet stores and independent bookstores, to Les's Tire Shop and Peggy Lee's Preschool. The young are growing up and instead of settling down in Cottage Grove, they're reaching out to the neighboring communities for employment. We need to create jobs and opportunities at home, before we can solve the money problems.” She paused and swallowed. “To do that, we need our local companies to grow and demand in supplies to steadily climb, and we need to find a way to bring money to Cottage Grove.”

“That's all common knowledge, Shauna, but times have changed. We can no more keep the young adults from moving away than we can make Cottage Grove more appealing without the funds to support a huge project.” Dan Winters tossed his pen on the table and crossed his arms.

Mrs. Bakkersten clasped her hands on the table. “Dear, you've been away for a while, and we've tried everything we could think of to turn things around. Nothing has worked, and we've only dug ourselves into a deeper debt.”

Shauna smiled, when what she really wanted to do was slink out of the room and forget about her whole plan. She motioned toward the folders, and then sat down.

“The documents I've handed you contain my proposal. I think all of your suggestions have been honorable and have pushed things into the right direction to bring life back into Cottage Grove, but we need something … big. Something that'll not only keep the younger generation around by creating more jobs, but that will supplement our revenue by boosting tourism.” She removed a sheet of paper and held it up. “Please take a look at page three.”

“What's this?” Dan frowned.

“This is a list of celebrities, well known around the world, who have volunteered to come to Cottage Grove. They've also agreed to host charity events for the locals and bring in added entertainment.” She pulled out another list. “Page four consists of the activities that will be offered.”

“Hold on now, missy.” Mrs. Bakkersten shook her head. “Do you realize what will happen bringing in so many celebrities? Where will they stay? We don't even have enough law enforcement officers to handle extra traffic, not to mention public safety. I don't know how you can promise to have these people come when there's no money to offer them for their work.”

“I understand your concerns.” Shauna nodded. “Each celebrity will arrive with a full team of personnel, plus I've received a bid from a security firm to direct traffic and oversee the school and the field north of town, where the majority of events will be held. The only ones who will require a different location are Grayson Schyler, who has already agreed to account for the tennis center, and Bruce Coldwell, who will require the use of the lake for four hours. I've already talked to the county, and they've agreed to accommodate up to five hundred people without any added fees. If more show up, Bruce has agreed to stay an extra day so the crowd and safety won't be a concern.”

“Humph.” Mr. Stephenson pursed his lips. “What about the hotels, campgrounds, and local stores? Will they be able to keep up with the throng of people bound to come to town? What about media coverage?”

On and on, the committee asked questions, arguing their point, and each time she answered them with a growing confidence. The tension across the back of her shoulders eased, and she sat back and crossed her legs. By the time Ella came in and announced she was going home, each person had shaken Shauna's hand and congratulated her on a job well done.

They left the building with a new sense of spirit and hope for Cottage Grove. Shauna waited five minutes after the last car pulled out of the parking lot, and locked the door. Weeks of worry and stress had her wound up, and she was exhilarated. Too wired to go home, she headed out of town to Grayson's house to share the news.

Chapter Twelve

The interior beyond the locked glass doors at the tennis center lay dark. Without wondering what to do, Shauna walked around the building to the paved lane that led to Grayson's house.

Lights lined the asphalt driveway, guiding her toward the front door of the two-story colonial brick house as if they were personally urging her forward. She stepped up on the porch and rang the doorbell. A melodic chime sounded off inside.

A few seconds later, Grayson answered the door, a phone held to his ear, and motioned for her to enter. She crossed the threshold and followed him deeper into the house. That's when the magnitude of what she'd done hit her smack in the chest and left her unsure of what to do next.

She'd invaded Grayson's private domain. In all the time she'd known him, she'd never met him on his own turf. She'd respected his privacy.

“Call me tomorrow, and I'll give you my final answer.” Grayson stared at her, but talked on his phone. “Okay. Talk to you then. Bye.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, waiting for him to yell at her for trespassing.

“How did the meeting go?” He set the phone on the end table and motioned for her to sit down.

“Great.” She remained standing. “You know, this wasn't such a brilliant idea. I didn't think my idea of coming here to see you all the way through. I'll go, and leave you alone. Maybe, you can call me tomorrow … at work, if you have time.”

“Wait.” He frowned. “You were all excited when I opened the door and now you look upset. What happened?”

“Nothing. I'm happy. I wanted to share with you that the committee's given me their wholehearted approval on the planned benefit. That's all. I also wanted to thank you. I think it helped, mentioning that you were helping me.” She gazed around the room. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here and interrupted you.”

The one lamp in the room lit the area enough to see she was out of her element. This wasn't the average house with the mismatched couches and a stack of newspapers beside the recliner.

All leather furniture dotted the room, accented by red throw pillows. The floor to ceiling rock fireplace displayed two golden tennis rackets on the mantel. She squeezed the cushion of a nearby chair and sighed. Soft and plush, the leather pliable under her fingers screamed money.

“Shauna?”

“Yes?” She jerked her hands away and clasped them in front of her.

“Don't you think that good news calls for a celebration?” He cocked his eyebrow. “I was getting ready to open a bottle of wine. How about staying and having a glass with me?”

Buck up. This is my dream. I'm standing in the middle of Grayson's house, and he's inviting me to stay.
“Are you reneging on your advice you gave me about not drinking? You know how I get.” She lifted her shoulder and grinned. “What was it you said … I go crazy when I drink?”

“I think I can handle you.” He laughed. “Besides, you deserve something nice after all the hard work you've put into the project. I don't think Cottage Grove has any idea the magnitude your idea is going to help them.”

“Okay. Sure, why not. Maybe one glass.” She stepped over and sat on the edge of the chair before her legs gave out. “I hope you're right. I really do want to help bring back the jobs that were lost around here. Dad's told me about some of the heartbreak, and the amount of foreclosures that've happened since the plant closed.”

“It's true.” He held up his hand. “Hold on. I'll go get the wine.”

She barely had time to catch her breath, and he was back, handing her a full wine glass. In her hurry to calm her nerves, she almost sloshed the wine over the rim but got it to her mouth in time to save her from making a mess.

Smooth, sweet, and fruity, the wine soothed her senses and she sat back in the chair. Grayson sat on the couch and propped his feet on the coffee table. There was something extremely sexy about a guy in white sport socks.

“I take it everyone jumped on board. Did any of them give you any trouble, or did they have concerns that I could go over with them?”

She took another sip and let the liquid slide down her throat. “No. I think it went better than we both imagined it would. They had concerns, rightfully so, but I was prepared and seemed to cover all the bases.”

“I knew you would do well.” He smiled. “When you have a goal, you've always done everything possible to achieve it.”

“Oh, Grayson, you should've been there. Everyone's attitude toward me changed. For the first time since working there, I saw hope and a new energy flowing through them all. They love this town as much as I do, and I really feel like this is going to turn things around in Cottage Grove.”

He tilted his head and seemed to study her. “You love it here.”

She nodded. “I always have. Even when I was younger, and complained about how everyone was set in their ways and how nothing ever changes around here. I love the small town atmosphere. Being away on my own and going to college in a big city showed me how much I missed being able to run into the grocery store and learn about my neighbors all at the same time. A five-minute trip turns into a half hour when everyone talks to you. I thought I hated that part growing up. I couldn't do anything without it getting back to my dad … or you, about what I'd done. Granted, most of the time I was up to trouble, but it was hard.”

The way Grayson watched her made her think she'd said something wrong. She drank another swallow of wine. He was making her nervous.

“You belong here,” he said.

His voice was a little soft, a little rough, and caressed every nerve in her body. She shivered. There was no way she would let him know he affected her in such a way.

“This is really good.” She licked her lips. “I mean,
really
good. I don't think I've had anything quite like this. It's almost got a light champagne feel to it.”

He continued to stare.

Her heartbeat sped up and her nipples peaked. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

“Come upstairs with me.”

She had no idea what she was supposed to say or do. In all her daydreams about the day Grayson had sex with her, she'd always willingly given herself to him. Oh sure, she wanted him in the worst way, but he only wanted one night and she'd dug herself into a hole.

There was the benefit she had to pull off, and she wasn't done making everything up to him. She gulped. And John. She couldn't forget about John.

Her hands started to shake, and she set her glass on the small table beside her chair. She looked everywhere but at him, mostly to stall. It would be so like her to blurt out, “Yes, yes, take me, I'm yours!”

He rose from the couch and kneeled in front of her chair. Cupping her face, he whispered, “I want
you
.”

She pressed her cheek into his touch, melting rapidly from her core outward. “But — ”

He kissed her, barely touching his mouth to hers. Her mouth trembled at the light brush of his lips. The soft, almost tender move aroused her in ways she couldn't explain. She had wanted him for so long. She couldn't wrap her thoughts around what was happening. Her breasts ached for his hands.
Do it. Tell him yes.

“I-I can't,” she whispered, against his lips.

“Yes. You can.” He rubbed his cheek against the side of her face.

She shook her head and pushed him back. The moment he moved, she stood up and moved away from him. “Oh God, I'm sorry. I want you … more than you'll ever understand. But I can't.”

“Why?”

She sighed and shook her head. “You're going to think I'm crazy, but we're working together on the benefit … and I'm sort of seeing someone.”

He scoffed. “I'm helping you, not working for you, and John's a nobody. He's someone you're using to distract yourself from me. You're not serious about him. Two dates doesn't qualify as a relationship.”

She dropped her arms to her side. “John's a nice man. He's — ”

“So you're telling me no?”

“I'm sorry.”

He turned his back to her and moved over to pick up his glass. He drank the remaining contents in one swallow. “Get out.”

She moved forward and laid her hand on his back. “Grayson?”

“I told you before, I don't play childish games. Go home. Go back to where it's safe. Go back to John.” His voice husky and deep with a passion she couldn't ignore.

She blinked away the tears and nodded. “I'm sorry.”

When she reached the front door, a glass shattered in the other room, and she ran outside. She kept going until she reached her car and drove away. When she reached her house, she went upstairs and crawled into her bed, alone.

Chapter Thirteen

Grayson played to win — whether in the game of tennis or in life. And that included the women he wanted. He'd spent too many years growing up wanting what he couldn't have to waste time chasing anyone. He didn't care about the reasons for Shauna blowing him off, he was pissed.

“Damn her.” He marched over and picked the phone up. He punched in numbers he knew by heart and waited.

“'ello.” Bruce Coldwell's gruff voice came on the line.

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