Free The Comeback by Abby Gaines

together.
    Zack picked up the remote control and turned the TV on, ignoring her. He found a cartoon channel, and settled back against the couch.
    “Fine,” Gaby said tightly at last.
    “I’d prefer you to use multisyllable words,” he said helpfully. “You need to set a good example for me.”
    She glared. “I want to run Motor Media Group while Sandra’s on maternity leave.”
    Whatever Zack had expected, it wasn’t that. He turned off the TV. “That’s a big job.”
    She huffed. “You don’t think I can do it?”
    “I have no idea. But I haven’t seen Sandra look at you as if she thinks you can do it.” Zack was so used to seeing doubt in his family’s faces, he recognized it easily in others.
    “I need to prove my capabilities,” Gaby admitted.
    He mulled that over. “You think if you keep me in line, Sandra will give you the job?”
    “You’re my client, you’re the obvious place to start.”
    “So your offer to help me with my family isn’t about me at all?” The thought rankled. Dumb, since he was used to playing second, or third, fiddle. “This is all about you.”
    “I do want you to fix things with your family,” she said. “But, yes, my main concern is getting that job.”
    “Why do you want it? Is it the money?”
    Gaby laced her fingers in her lap. “Kind of. My parents were quite old when they had me—Mom was forty-six. They’re not in great health, physically or financially. They can meet their own needs, but they’ve made it clear there’s unlikely to be much left for me when they go. I need to make provision for myself.”
    “Do they live around here?”
    She shook her head. “In Nashville. I don’t have any other family.”
    “You’ll probably get married one day.” Zack scanned her slim curves, the feminine sweep of her lashes above blue eyes, the bow of her mouth. “Your husband will help support you.”
    “I already tried that,” she said coolly.
    “You’ve been married?” Something primeval—possessiveness, protectiveness, he didn’t know what—swept over Zack.
    “Engaged,” she said. “It was a painful lesson in not relying on someone else to take care of me.”
    “What did he do to you?” One look at the quiver in Gaby’s lips and Zack had an urge to pound the guy’s head into the pavement.
    Her face shut down, the way his own often did. “I answered your question about what I want out of this, you don’t need to know anything else. You just need to agree to enter the bachelor contest, give it a hundred-percent effort. In return, I’ll help manage the impressions you give your family, the same way I manage your media impressions. Only better,” she added, “because now you’ll be cooperating.”
    Zack briefly entertained a scenario in his head where he and his family laughed and chatted and bantered around aThanksgiving table. Too sappy. He dismissed the image and conjured another one, where he and his folks were civil to each other, where every conversation wasn’t a minefield.
    Even that was a vast improvement.
    He let out a breath. “I’ll do it,” he said. “I’m in your hands.”
    Something electric crackled in the air, left his heart thumping.
    Gaby put a hand to her chest as if her heart was playing up, too. “See you in charm school.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
    “M IND YOUR MANNERS , and don’t go on about NASCAR,” Brady Matheson ordered his sons, who were sprawled around his living room on the Wednesday evening between the Pennsylvania and Watkins Glen races. “It’s a sensitive issue for Amber.” But all he got for his trouble was three pairs of rolled eyes. His daughters-in-law were more polite and nodded obediently.
    “She’s your stepsister,” he reminded them all unnecessarily. And she’s my stepdaughter. “She’s part of our family.” He added hastily, “That doesn’t mean you can go arguing with her or insulting her or getting her dander up like you do with each other.”
    Dammit, he hadn’t been this nervous