A Place to Call Home (4 page)

Aidan walked through the back door and laughed when he saw Mac holding her. Hannah stilled, instantly mortified when the boy stared at them then winked at his dad.

“Good. You’re home,” Mac said. “Okay, boys. Get to bed.” He started up the stairs with Hannah. “And brush your teeth.”

Mac carried her down the hall and back to his bed where he placed her onto the king-sized mattress, just as gently as he did earlier. A girl could definitely get used to this kind of treatment. Did he do this for all the women he met or was she special? Without a word, he left only to return a minute later with aspirin and a glass of water. He handed her both.

“What’s this for?”

“The headache you won’t tell me you have.”

She stared at him then took the meds and swallowed them down with the water before giving him back the empty glass. “How’d you know I had a headache?”

He sat on the side of the bed, close enough that his thigh brushed her leg. Not wanting to appear like a prude, she fought the urge to shirk away. The intimate contact caused her traitorous body to react to his close proximity. Oh, how she enjoyed every subtle stroke of his thigh against hers. No way could the heat emanating from him be just from the summer temps with the house’s interior so cool.

“I’m the father of three. I can usually tell they’re going to be sick before they get sick.”

“Oh.” She laid her head against his pillow. “That’s how you’re sort of a doctor, huh?” she said, remembering his careful attention earlier to her injured knee.

“Yup. You lucked out since my specialty is scrapes.”

“Well, I’m sure no one ever accused you of having a delicate touch.”

He thought for a moment. “No. I guess not.”

“Thank you, Mac, for your help. I’m not used to relying on anyone but myself.”

“Then I suggest you work on that because around here everyone relies on everyone. It’s how we survive and while we may not have fancy BMWs, or dress in fancy clothes and wear expensive perfume, we do all right.”

She smiled. She usually only used her primp sessions to look professional for work. If he’d taken an interest in her not-so-expensive but favorite fragrance, it appeared that hauling her around today had affected him too. “You noticed my perfume?”

His beefy hand waved the air in to dismiss the importance of such an admission. Obviously, he recognized his blunder too late to deny that he’d observed something personal about her. “Hell, yes. You bathed yourself in it enough for Texas to smell it.”

“Aren’t you exaggerating a little much?” she teased, the intimacy of sitting in his bedroom drumming up images of what they could be doing if alone in the house.

“No,” he said, his voice a little softer. He glanced down at the comforter for a moment before looking back up at her. “When you sat down at lunch, that’s all I could smell.”

Interesting. She wouldn’t have taken him for a man so attuned to a woman, especially one he didn’t know. Here he sat on the bed with her having this ridiculously normal conversation like they did it every day. He seemed to be on a roll, so she kept her mouth shut and continued to listen.

“But you weren’t all tempered up at lunch like you were with me earlier, like the mad woman I found at your house.”

“A mad woman? Really now.” Her lips formed an ‘o’.

“Really now,” he confirmed, a hint of smile creasing the corner of his mouth. His tongue licked over those firm lips of his. And her tongue wanted to do that to him too.

Abruptly, he stood and looked down, the serious expression back. “Get some sleep.”

He ambled to the door, and she leaned up on her elbows.

“But if I’m taking your bed, where are you going to sleep?”

“The boys each have their own room and that’s it, so I get the couch.”

She tossed the sheets aside prepared to bolt off the mattress. “I can’t kick you out of your own room. I’ll take the couch.”

He stood at the door with his hand on the knob like he expected no argument, his decision final. “Put one foot on that floor and you’ll regret it.”

She hesitated, met his gaze, and stood, arms folded over her chest. “Don’t you threaten me.”

He sighed, shook his head, and stared at the floor for a moment then looked up. His eyes glowed with a determination, as though she’d given him the ultimate challenge—one he gladly accepted. “It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise. And, darling, I warn you I’ve had enough of your temper today. Trust me, you don’t want to see mine. Get back in that bed.”

“No. I’ll take the couch or I’ll go back to my house.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Don’t call me stupid!” Oh, now he’s crossed the line.

“I call it as I see it,” he said simply, stepping toward her, pointing a finger. “There’s no way in hell I’m driving you home. I need to get some sleep. I have to work early.”

Her mouth watered at the sight of him. God, he looked good enough to eat. His jeans low on his hips. That cool blue fire in his eyes. And there he stood, trying to be macho, when he’d already shown her the most care anyone ever had.

“I’ll take the couch,” she repeated, matching his step with one of her own and advancing into his personal space. Unable to back down, she put her hands on her hips and stood her ground.

“Will you now?” He frowned. “I happen to have two teenage boys and a preteen boy. Do you really want to be caught sleeping on the couch if they decide to go downstairs in the middle of the night to rummage in the fridge for a snack? Believe me, my boys are known to do just that.”

Heat crept into her cheeks. “Oh, well. I didn’t think of that.”

“That’s right, but I did. Now you’ll stay in here where you can be afforded some privacy. And I’m
not
going to tell you again to get back in that bed.”

He did make perfect sense. She just hated to be told what to do. He apparently mistook her for stalling and moved toward her so quickly she only had a second to react. Shrieking, she jumped back into bed hastily pulling the sheets over her, and glared at him.

“Good girl,” he said, his clipped tone irritating her. He opened the door.

“Mac?”

He hesitated before he turned and looked at her. “What now? Want a bedtime story?”

“You’d be more comical if you smiled when you attempted to make a joke,” she quipped.

“Did you want something?”

“Don’t you want to know what perfume I wear?” she said and batted her eyes at him, hoping the playful teasing kept him standing there. She didn’t want him to leave just yet.

“Don’t see why it matters,” he said curtly and shut the door behind him.

He could be such an annoying, bossy man, and just when she’d thought he might be somewhat human. She turned and punched her pillow a dozen times, much more than required, and only stopped since it didn’t make her feel better.

There came the faintest knock and the sound of the doorknob turning. Mac poked his head back in then slowly leaned through the opening. He spoke in his softest voice yet, a mix of frustration and curiosity lacing his words. “What the hell is the name?”

She grinned, satisfaction dancing on her skin like tiny raindrops. He had come back. “
Trouble
,” she drawled in a voice unnaturally husky for her. “The name of my perfume is
Trouble
.”

“Of course it is.” He shut the door.

She smiled, suddenly feeling more alive than she had in years, if ever. Grateful for the privacy, she allowed herself to stretch long and lazy, like a giddy schoolgirl too nervous to sleep. Hannah snuggled into the plush mattress knowing Mac slept there nightly. Tonight, she would dream of how he had held her, cradled her, cared for her. How he had awakened something deep inside her that had been frozen over time. And how much she had enjoyed every second of it.

Too exhausted to ponder her thoughts or the events of the day any more, she slid her head onto his pillow, and dozed off to sleep before her lids fully shut.

Chapter Five

On the couch, Mac grew more restless with each passing minute. He glanced over his shoulder at the kitchen clock. Two in the morning. Shit! He had to get up at six. He stared at the ceiling.

Trouble
. Hannah’s perfume was
Trouble
. She could’ve been talking about her middle name.

Today had been the day from hell, hadn’t it? He’d saved that redheaded woman from herself all day long. First, she falls through the floor. Then flails like a fish out of water in his arms almost killing them both on the stairs. That redheaded witch came out of nowhere, disrupting his life and wandering into his thoughts constantly. Now she lay upstairs, sleeping in
his
bed while he’d been forced to sleep on the couch with the dog snoring under the coffee table.

Porkchop usually slept with Luke, but tonight he’d stayed in the parlor, hoping he’d get a midnight snack out of the deal. When no food had been shared, Porkchop had finally fallen asleep. Now if only Mac could do the same. He’d worked on a few hours sleep before, especially after being up all night when one of the boys were sick, but would rather not again. Lying there, he stared at the ceiling, wide-awake and helpless to be anything but.

Trouble
. Who the hell names a perfume
Trouble
? And why couldn’t he get the sexy, sensual smell out of his damn nose?

The sexy witch taking over his bed had been a real beauty. Mac admitted sourly, sighing loudly, placing his hand behind his head seeking some kind of comfort. She had the looks, the body, the eyes. Her long, curly, red hair flowed past her shoulders, wild and bright against her smooth, milky-white complexion. Her big and wide eyes, green like emeralds, shot daggers when that spicy temper flared.

Her average height, probably five-seven, caused her to look up at him in an adorable way, straining her neck, desperate to make eye contact or to stare him down. Her face, absolutely striking, showcased a small jaw, sharp cheekbones, and a delicate nose. A picture of elegance, and probably from being pampered her whole life. He knew that when a woman lived a certain way of life she could never be satisfied with the tranquil lifestyle he’d finally achieved. But that still didn’t keep him from imagining her naked. Her slender body provoked a mouthwatering response at first glance. Curves in the right places. Small, tight ass that begged for his hands to grab. Full breasts begging for his mouth to devour them, suck them, nibble them.

God, what a hot woman! But then she opens her mouth and poof! The beautiful image gets shot to hell. He’d heard redheads had a fiery side to match their hair color. Well, if she thought she could take her spitfire temper out on him, she had another think coming. Mental images of her caused his cock to harden with the need to see how feisty she would be in bed. He bet he could sap her energy and diminish that touchy disposition of hers.

Smiling, he remembered how she jumped back into bed when he’d moved toward her to ensure she did just that. She might have a fierce temper and terrible stubborn streak, but at least she had the common sense to get back in that damn bed and not tempt him to throw her back into it. Although, he would’ve enjoyed seeing her bounce on the mattress after he’d tossed her down. His cock grew harder as he imagined all that red hair, flying wild through the air.

God, how his hands had itched to grab her. Picking her up would have been easy enough. Hell, that toned body of hers hardly weighed anything at all. He also would’ve taken great pleasure in watching her tits jiggle without any under things to hold them firm. Christ, it was driving him nuts thinking about Hannah lying in his bed with no bra and panties and only borrowed shorts and shirt.

Damn it! He was trying his best not to touch her. He rubbed his eyes and sighed again. Touching her would be a mistake he didn’t need right now. She had already proved herself to be a handful, something he didn’t need in his busy life. But whenever he thought of her, he got this persistent hard-on, and it was annoying the hell out of him. It also happened to be the reason he hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

He squeezed his eyes closed and willed himself to fall asleep. But the image of those voluptuous breasts floated into his mind again. Two luscious mounds. Soft creamy skin. Tight pink nipples, straining toward his lips.

He growled low and turned onto his side, still not finding any comfort on the plush couch. He punched his pillow half a dozen times, the effort not relieving any of the tension building in him. Plain and simple, he wanted Hannah. In his arms. In his bed. Now. But that wasn’t going to happen tonight, so he squeezed his eyes harder.

Hadn’t he taken good care of her? He’d rescued her, taken her to the doctor, welcomed her into his home, let her shower, fed her, loaned her clothes, and had given her his damn bed. And what had the woman ended up doing? Argued with him, that’s what. Argued until he’d forced her go to bed like the little brat she was.

Jesus! He didn’t need this drama in his life. His kids gave him enough drama. He certainly didn’t need, or want, anymore.

He dared to glance at the clock again and groaned. Three in the morning. Didn’t look like sleep would come to him tonight. He would just have to—

A woman’s screams interrupted his thoughts.

Instantly, he jumped to his feet, taking the stairs three at a time until he burst through his bedroom door to witness Hannah in the middle of his bed, weeping into her hands.

“Jesus! What is it?” he asked quickly. His heart pounded and adrenaline pumped through his veins.

She looked up, and in that one moment, she appeared so helpless, so young, so vulnerable, his heart broke. Before he could do much to help her, three bodies slammed him from behind, effectively shoving him farther into the room. He turned to face them, the hall light illuminating them.

“What’s wrong?” Aidan asked while Ryan blurted out, “Is she okay?”

“Daddy? Was it a ghost?” Luke asked.

The last question caught Mac’s attention. He bent down to eye level with Luke. “What? No. No ghost. Why would you think it was a ghost?”

But before his youngest son could speak Mac had answered his own stupid question himself. Knowing his oldest son’s bad habit of tormenting his younger brother with scary stories, Mac shot Aidan an angry warning that had the boy shrinking back. The kid knew he’d been busted.

“Everything is all right. Now all of you go back to bed.”

“Can we watch some TV?” Ryan asked.

“What? No. It’s three in the morning. Get back to bed.”

“But I just figured since we’re up we could watch movies.” Ryan persisted. “They’re on twenty-four hours a day, you know.”

“I don’t want to watch Scooby-Doo anymore since there are always ghosts,” Luke said sleepily, slipping his small hand into Mac’s massive one.

Mac looked down at his frightened son and made a mental note to give Aidan extra chores for a week for scaring his brother with ghost tales.

“Listen, Luke, buddy. There are no ghosts. Do you think a ghost would come into this house without Porkchop knowing? He never barked, so there are no ghosts. Aidan will take you back to your room and let you keep the light on so you can fall asleep.”

Mac hugged Luke before rustling a hand in Ryan’s hair.

Aidan slunk away but Mac kept his eyes on him. “Take your brother back to his room, Aidan, and do exactly what I said. Screw it up and you’ll be grounded for the rest of your life. I promise.”

All three boys disappeared into the hallway.

Mac finally turned his attention back to Hannah, who sat in the middle of the bed, wrapped in the sheet, her arms around her legs. What was he suppose to do with her now?

“You all right?” he asked cautiously, feeling foolish since of course she wasn’t.

“Fine.” She looked up, tears drying on her cheeks and his heart broke. “Sorry I woke you and your family.”

“Didn’t wake me any. I was still up.”

“Told you to take the bed but nooo, you wouldn’t listen,” she said, threw her hands up, and rolled her eyes. “Had to be a gentleman. Serves you right getting no sleep.”

His cock once again awakened. “Hey, I was only thinking of your privacy.”

“Did I ask you to?” she said hotly.

He gritted his teeth and mentally counted to ten.

“I’m sorry. I’m taking my temper out on you.” She shook her head wearily, pushing her hair back. “I’ve done that a lot.”

“I’d like to know why since you’re wearing me out putting me on the defensive so much.” He stayed safely away from the bed, standing in the middle of the floor with his arms crossed over his chest.

Her thin shoulders shrugged. “Because you’re a man. I haven’t had nice men in my life, so I’m overly cautious of them.”

“So I need to pay the price for that why?”

She offered a slight smile. “You don’t. But you do get under my skin the way you’re always giving orders like I have to listen to you.”

“You don’t have to listen to me unless I say so.”

At that, she laughed loudly, the sound tightening his gut.

“That sounded so ludicrous,” she said, the fire finally leaving her eyes, the bright green depths calming.

Without thinking, he walked to the bed and sat on the edge. His feet apparently had a mind of their own. So did his dick—it strained against his jogging pants, happy to be closer to her.

Mac sat close to Hannah, their legs touching. “Care to tell me what the nightmare was about?”

Green circles looked at him innocently. “No. I have them sometimes. I can never remember what they’re about but I wake up scared to death. I hope I didn’t frighten your kids.”

“Nah. They’ve done worse to each other. Here. Lie down.” His hands straightened the covers before she slid down to the pillow. He pulled the sheet up to her stomach, grasped it firmly while stealing a glance at her lovely face. For a moment, he struggled with the need to kiss those pretty lips and chase away her troubles. Mac dropped the blanket not daring to touch her. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered.

When her gaze locked onto his, a bolt of electricity hit him in his gut and raced to his throbbing cock that now stood at full attention. If her leg moved, she would discover what she’d started—and maybe they could finish. Did she want him to touch her? Oh, God, just say the word. He wanted so badly to hold her more than just carrying her around. When only silence filled the room, he forced the thought of sex from his mind, stood, and turned to leave.

“Austin?”

He froze, that single word shocking him. No one called him that anymore. But she’d remembered. God, he almost didn’t even recognize his own name. He faced her without saying a word.

“You’re a great father from what I’ve seen so far. Your boys are great. They’re lucky to have you.”

He smiled and left to return to the solitude of the couch. Now that had been the best thing anyone had said to him in a long time. And from that fiery redhead of all people!

Lying back down on the couch, he closed his eyes and lulled himself to sleep with Hannah’s voice saying his name over and over.

Austin. Austin. Austin.