Free To Win Her Love by Mackenzie Crowne

by the light striations in his sparkling emerald eyes. Her nostrils flared at his clean, male scent, and she bit at her lower lip.
    She blinked when he dropped his gaze to her mouth. Oh, dear Lord. She’d never actually witnessed a man’s pupils dilating. With undisguised male awareness? Oh, hell. Her mouth instantly went desert dry, and her pulse shot into overdrive.
    Snap out of it. Intimidation is his game, not seduction.
    She swallowed with an audible click, and thankfully, he raised his head before she could do anything stupid—like lift her mouth the mere inch necessary to find out what it would be like to taste him.
    To hell with brains. When dealing with an overload of brawn and sex appeal, retreat was self-preservation’s best friend. She followed her initial instinct and took a wide step back.
    Dimples formed along with his slow, satisfied smile. He held her gaze as he bent to scratch at Murphy’s head with long fingers. “You’re going to have to watch that head, buddy. We’re outnumbered around here. We guys need to stick together.”
    Murphy quivered with pleasure, adoration shining from his dark eyes. Jake’s soft chuckle skittered over her rattled nerve endings, leaving goose bumps. Apparently he wasn’t averse to claiming a little tit for tat, either. The sneaky jock had been trying to intimidate her, all right, and he’d succeeded. Well, if he thought she’d let him get away with it again…
    God, it was going to be a long three months.
     

Chapter 8
     
    With the girls off to school the next morning, Jake returned upstairs to do…God knew what. Go back to sleep, probably. That worked for Gracie. Out of sight and all that.
    Having apparently taken her demand they share duties to heart, he’d wandered into the kitchen at six oh five, his eyelids drooping with fatigue. She considered it a bad sign she found the cowlick causing his thick hair to stand up on one side adorable, and the rough shadow of beard darkening his strong chin incredibly attractive.
    She tried not to stare as he offered Mary his assistance with the breakfast preparations, but geez. Who knew a glob of pancake batter smeared on a man’s tattered T-shirt would only enhance his masculine appeal? A barefoot Jake, flipping pancakes in rumpled jeans and a T-shirt, gave a whole new meaning to the word sexy and was a domestic vision she wouldn’t soon forget.
    The following half hour had been an exercise in tension. Angel shifted anxiously in her chair and Jake’s discomfort had been evident in the nerve jumping along his jaw. Charlie and Mary hadn’t seemed to notice. The housekeeper held court over the meal as she always did, as if this morning was no different than any other at the farm. As if Pete’s son hadn’t taken up the position where Pete always sat.
    Gracie had to give Jake credit. Having made the decision to adhere to the demands of Pete’s will, he was making a concerted, if somewhat stilted, effort. Despite his obvious nerves, he was still Jake Malone, a man known for his ability to charm. Looking like he hadn’t slept a wink, he set about using that charm, attempting to draw the girls into conversation by inquiring after their likes and habits. Charlie soaked up his attention like a sponge. Hanging on his every word, she jabbered like a magpie in response. Angel refused to cooperate, pushing bits of pancake around on her full plate in stubborn silence.
    Gracie wasn’t sure if his interest was real or if her warning last night had sunk in. Only time would tell, but witnessing the adoring animation in Charlie’s eyes, and the occasion flashes of interest Angel couldn’t quite hide behind her distrust, Gracie’s mood went from sour to gloomy. As hard as the fact was to swallow, Jake was here and, considering his competitive nature, he’d play to win. Which meant he wouldn’t be going anywhere.
    He’d made it clear he had no interest in a ready-made family, and he certainly didn’t need Pete’s money. What