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Authors: Christina James

Tags: #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Romance

A Place to Call Home (9 page)

BOOK: A Place to Call Home
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“I sleep lightly.”

 

“I’d guessed that. Probably due to not wanting the nightmares to come,” he said. “Come on. Follow me so you don’t fall through any more ceilings.” He carried a ladder with him.

 

Walking behind him suited her just fine since she got a great view of his awesome ass. “What can I do?”

 

“Don’t knock me off the ladder, that’s what. Just stand back while I work.” He drilled holes in the ceiling. “I’ll need to finish this another day since I have to snake wires from the doors and windows downstairs. I don’t have enough time tonight. I’m going to put in a smoke detector, though. Just in case.”

 

“So you think I’ll burn down the place? Is that why you’re here helping me?” she teased. At least cooking was one thing she excelled at, so no worries there.

 

“With your luck, you never know,” he countered while he looped wires through the tiny new holes in the ceiling.

 

She laughed.

 

“Really, though, I’m doing this because I want to. No other reason. I like to believe a good deed never goes unnoticed by the Man upstairs and maybe He’ll see fit to keep me working so I can raise my boys and give them a good life.” He looked up, caught her gaze. “So you see? No tricks up my sleeves…or down my pants.”

 

She giggled. “So you won’t be trying to get into my pants, Austin?”

 

He turned to her. “Now I didn’t say that, darling. I said I wasn’t doing these renovations to get into your pants. But I do happen to like what I see. So I admit to giving a thought or two about how to get into your pants.”

 

“And what is it you see that you like?”

 

He checked her over from head to toe then focused on her face. “Your tits. I’m a tit man.”

 

“My, you have such a way with words.” She turned and walked away, needing some space between them. When his gaze had raked over her skin, her flesh had heated.

 

“Hey, Hannah,” he called, and she turned back. “I like your ass too. You’ve got a great one.”

 

Flashing him her best smile, she pivoted on her heel and continued toward the stairs. Her knees wobbled and she wondered if she tottered like a penguin. If he laughed, she’d kill him.

 

Ten minutes later, Mac tromped down the stairs, tools in one hand, the ladder in the other. “Since I see you’re not settled in yet, why don’t you come over tonight for dinner?”

 

“Why, so you can look at my tits and ass? Forget it,” she said with no heat to her words.

 

He laughed. “Don’t be stubborn. You have to eat.”

 

“True,” she said. It sounded innocent enough. “What’s for dinner?”

 

He smirked. “Show up and find out. Do you think you can find us okay?”

 

“I remember.” Good Lord, she’d never forget. The route to his house would be emblazoned in her mind until she died.

 

“Oh, that’s right. When you stole my truck, you managed to find your way back,” he said and grinned.

 

“Oh, stop it.” She laughed. “What time?”

 

“Let’s say seven, gives me time to shower and cook.”

 

“Mac, don’t go through any extra trouble on my behalf.”

 

Gathering his tools, he smirked. “Darling, I’m not Emeril, but we don’t starve either.”

 

“Okay. Will your boys be there?”

 

“They’re the reason I’m going home to cook. Otherwise, I’d keep working.”

 

She bet he meant that too. “I’ll bring dessert, then,” she said and caught the gleam in his eyes.

 

“What will that be? You?”

 

“Nice try, Mac. Get out of here,” she laughed, and ushered him out the door.

 

Chapter Ten

 

For the third time that day Hannah showered, taking extra care to style her hair in a sexy, carefree upsweep, applying fresh makeup, and spritzing her skin. When done, she glanced in the mirror, assessing the thigh-length jean shorts and a pink V-neck T-shirt she wore. Pronouncing the outfit presentable, she tugged on white canvas sneakers without socks.

 

Glad she’d stopped at the market earlier, Hannah had planned to send over a special treat to the MacDevin boys, but now she could bring it for dessert. She placed a layer of pound cake in an aluminum disposable pan, spooned in vanilla pudding and whipped cream, and repeated the process. On top, she dropped fresh blueberries and strawberries, arranging them so her cake somewhat resembled the American flag.

 

Hannah found Mac’s house easy enough. She parked behind his truck, carefully lifted the dessert, and entered the porch finding the door to the kitchen open. She hesitated to walk right in, but the hum inside drove her curiosity wild. What she saw when she entered the kitchen warmed her heart like nothing ever before.

 

Country music blared from a stereo in the parlor. Mac busily cooked from various pots, opening the oven and peaking in, and yelling to his sons all at once. He’d changed out of his work clothes into jean shorts, black T-shirt, and sandals. His hair appeared damp and his face clean-shaven. When images raced through her overactive imagination—tearing those clothes from his body, discovering every hidden muscle, kissing every solid inch of him—her breath caught in her throat.

 

The dog sniffed around the kitchen floor. All three boys bounced between the kitchen and the dining room.

 

“Dad, I need another plate,” Aidan said.

 

“So get one,” Mac replied.

 

“Is Hannah gonna sleep over again, Daddy?” Luke asked.

 

Mac turned. “What? No. No, she’s not. Did you pour the drinks like I said to?”

 

“No,” Luke said softly.

 

“Then go do it.”

 

“But you told Ryan to do it.”

 

Mac looked from Luke to Ryan, flustered. “Ryan,” he bellowed.

 

“I know, I know,” Ryan said. “I just spilled the milk because Aidan’s a butthead.”

 

“Call me a butthead again, Ryan,” Aidan said. “And I’ll shove my foot—”

 

“Aidan,” Mac interrupted before his son could finish the threat. “Talk like that again and I’ll be the one shoving my foot somewhere. Now for the last time I want all of you on your best behavior. Hannah doesn’t need to listen to y’all bicker and fight.”

 

“Daddy, can you ask Hannah to sleep over?” Luke asked.

 

“What?” Mac gave a fleeting look to his youngest son then turned his attention back to the stove. “No. She’s not sleeping over so stop asking.”

 

Luke pouted. “Well, how come you don’t have any adult sleepovers? Danny’s dad has adult sleepovers with lots of girls.”

 

Mac swung around and stared at Luke. Then he glanced at his two older boys who were snickering. “Don’t even say a word you two,” Mac warned, pointing a spoon at them. “Luke, you can’t hang with Danny anymore.”

 

“What? How come? He’s my friend. Is Hannah your friend?” Luke persisted.

 

“Okay, okay.” Mac turned off the stove. “You can still be friends with Danny if you just listen to me and set the table.”

 

“But it is set,” Luke said.

 

Mac checked to be sure. “Then wash your hands and face.”

 

“Already done.” Luke held his palms out.

 

“Dad! Tell Aidan to get…off…of…me…” Ryan gasped while Aidan held him in a headlock.

 

Mac’s face distorted as though he prepared to scream. Hannah took it for her cue to interfere and entered the kitchen holding her dessert up high. “Okay. Who wants dessert?”

 

Four sets of identical blue eyes turned to stare.

 

“Oh.” She widened her eyes, feigning surprise. “But since you’re fighting, I’ll just give this to Porkchop.”

 

When she bent to place the dish on the floor in front of the dog whose tail wagged excitedly, the three boys yelled “no” all at once and rushed to her side.

 

She straightened slowly and faced them, knowing Mac watched her as well. “No?” Her gaze wandered over their faces. “But, Aidan, didn’t I just see you hurting Ryan? And Ryan, I doubt Aidan put you in a headlock for nothing. And, Luke, weren’t you just grilling your poor father about me staying over?”

 

“Ryan keeps saying I’m getting married and it’s not true.”

 

“Well, that’s a good thing isn’t it because if you were getting married, Aidan, there’d sure be a lot of girls’ hearts breaking around here.”

 

Aidan beamed.

 

“And Ryan,” Hannah said, turning her attention on the middle boy. “Why are you worried about Aidan getting married when I’m sure the girls are chasing you around just the same?”

 

Ryan turned red but also beamed.

 

“And Luke, honey.” She bent down and touched her finger to his nose. “I don’t want to kick your dad out of his bed again so I can’t have another sleepover.”

 

She stood to face Mac who busied himself turning off the pilots under the pots and slicing the meatloaf. “Hi, need any help?”

 

“No. I think you helped enough. You stopped World War Three. Thanks.”

 

“Anytime.” She set the cake on the counter.

 

“Hannah?”

 

“Yes, Luke.”

 

“If you sleep with Dad in his bed then you can stay over.”

 

Ryan and Aidan burst out laughing clutching their stomachs and being very dramatic. Mac turned white like a ghost and frozen in place.

 

Hannah turned to the oldest boys. “Something funny, boys?”

 

“No, ma’am,” they said and stopped laughing.

 

“Luke, it’s nice that you’d like me to stay over again. Is it because you enjoyed the breakfast I made?”

 

“Yeah, and you smell pretty too.”

 

When Ryan and Aidan snickered Hannah shot them a glance that shut them up fast. Returning her attention to the youngest, she said, “You are a very nice boy, Luke. But just so you know, I have my own bed, and that’s where I sleep. So there’ll be no more talks of sleepovers, okay?”

 

“Okay. But I still think there’s plenty of room in Dad’s bed for you.”

 

“Luke.” This time Mac interjected. “Enough. Sit down for dinner. All of you. Aidan, hold Hannah’s chair like a gentleman.”

 

His son listened without question.

 

Mac placed the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, corn, biscuits and French fries on the table. Then took his seat next to Hannah. He picked up the meatloaf and passed it to her and did the same with the rest of the food until their plates were full and everyone ate.

 

“What’s for dessert, Hannah?” Ryan asked halfway through dinner.

 

“You’ll find out after you’ve finished eating.”

 

“Aw, man, can’t we have a hint?” Ryan complained.

 

“Sure. It’s sweet and delicious.”

 

“That could be anything,” Luke said.

 

“Eat your dinner and you’ll see soon enough,” she said, enjoying the lively meal.

 

The boys simmered down and ate in silence.

 

“Are you married, Hannah?” Luke asked.

 

She turned, not expecting such a direct question from such a young boy. “No, I’m not married.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Luke, that’s being rude,” Mac said.

 

“Well, she’s pretty and smells good and cooks good, so shouldn’t she be married?”

 

Hannah laughed. “I just haven’t met the right man, Luke, that’s all.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Luke!” Mac scolded.

 

“Oh, for a lot of reasons, but I guess probably because I’m really stubborn and have a bad temper and not a lot of men like that quality in a girl.”

 

“Daddy, do you like that quality in girls?” Luke twirled his fork in his plate while he stared at his father, totally focused on Mac’s every word.

 

Hannah dared to glance at Mac who kept eyes on Luke. Would he admit to liking her?

 

“Luke, enough talk about girls and marriage and sleepovers.” He pointed toward his half-empty plate. “Finish eating so you can have dessert, or you can go to bed without it.”

 

Luke did what Mac told him and ate heartily, scooping up an over-flowing bite.

 

Hannah’s stomach knotted. Mac had avoided Luke’s question even if she already knew the answer. He wouldn’t be interested in someone like her because she acted stubborn and her temper flared without warning.

 

As the night wore on, Hannah worried she wouldn’t be able to say goodbye so easily to Mac or his boys. They were a lively crew for sure. As Mac played Scrabble with his sons and Hannah, it seemed obvious the boys had placed their dad on a pedestal even if he didn’t know it.

 

“Okay. I win. That’s bedtime for everyone except Aidan who gets to stay up another hour if you’re in your room being quiet and not on the phone.”

 

“Aw, come on, Dad. I’ll talk low.”

 

Mac hesitated. “Fine. But if you disturb your brothers, I’ll take your cell phone away for a week. That means no loud laughing, either.”

 

“Got it,” Aidan said while walking to the stairs.

 

“Boys, say goodnight to Hannah,” Mac instructed, his voice stern but his expression calm.

 

They did and she said, “Thank you for having me to dinner. Sleep well, boys.”

 

Aidan had already disappeared upstairs, but the other two boys gave Mac a quick high-five before slugging to the stairs.

 

“We’ll be on the deck,” Mac said, taking Hannah’s hand and walking through the parlor to the back of the house. “I don’t want to be interrupted.”

 

“Ooohhh,” the two boys teased and ran up the stairs. Mac ignored them.

 

§
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§
§

 

Outside the South Carolina night air settled warm but comfortable against her skin, the humidity bearable with a slight breeze that carried the scent of jasmine. The cleanliness of the deck impressed Hannah just as she’d been with the inside. The wooden deck appeared spacious and uncluttered. Four padded chairs sat around a rectangular glass patio table that held an unfolded umbrella in the center. There were no flowers. Glancing around, she decided this deck suited Mac. It seemed plain and simple, easy upkeep and quiet.

 

When Mac held out her chair, she said, “You have a really wonderful home, Mac. It’s very comfortable.”

 

“It’s even more wonderful with a beautiful woman sitting with me on my deck,” he stated, standing beside her looking down, the moonlight lightening his short black hair.

 

“Beautiful, huh? Now I’m flattered.” She inhaled, enjoying the smell of the jasmines.

 

Mac flashed her his killer smile while he lit some bug candles around the deck railings. “I was going to have a cigar if it wouldn’t bother you.”

 

“Not at all,” she said, enjoying the ambience created by the candles while their flames danced in the dark night air.

 

He walked into the house and returned after a few minutes. “Would you like a glass of wine? It’s a Merlot,” he offered, standing in front of her, his large hand holding a slender crystal glass filled with red liquid.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Mac sat in the chair next to Hannah and lit his cigar. He appeared very casual in his jean shorts and T-shirt, a big difference from his regular work clothes. His sandaled feet were sexy while stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. His long legs displayed solid muscle covered sparsely in curly dark hair that disappeared under his shorts.

 

Exhaling smoke, he studied her. “Sorry you got grilled by Luke earlier. I swear that kid’s going to be a lawyer.”

 

She sipped her wine and spoke softly. “He meant no harm. Out of the mouths of babes, right? I think I said that earlier, didn’t I?”

BOOK: A Place to Call Home
6.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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