The Day He Kissed Her (10 page)

“I—”

“You are not walking away right now.”

Mac felt the walls closing in. He didn’t like to have his actions dictated. “Yeah. I am.”

“Wow,” Lily said, shaking her head. “You’re something else. You show up here, half-naked, sweaty, and ready to jump into my bed. You’ve said all the right things, flirted like a pro, and you’ve been mind-fucking me from across the table all night.” She leaned her hands onto the table and bent toward him. “And now you think that you can just leave?”

“Christ,” he muttered under his breath. He was used to women who pouted when they didn’t get their way, women who used their bodies to try and change his mind. That he could handle. But a confrontation? He didn’t do confrontations—he tried to avoid them—because his temper always got the best of him and shit happened.

“Don’t mumble. Mumbling is for babies. Say what’s on your mind.”

Mac stared at Lily in surprise. She was a lot more of a firecracker than he’d imagined. Kind of made him wonder what else she was hiding.

“Look, Lily.” He blew out a hot breath and tried to think of something to say…something that wouldn’t make him look like such an asshole. It was kinda hard because he
was
being an asshole.

“Don’t, ‘look, Lily,’ me. What are you so afraid of anyway?”

Afraid?
He scrubbed at his eyes. This was really going downhill fast.

“Boston, can we not try to label shit? I’m not afraid of anything. I’m just not in the mood for”—he gestured toward the table—“I’m not in the mood for this.”

“You’re lying,” she shot back. “Ten minutes ago you weren’t able to sit still because your cock was so hard that you couldn’t get comfortable.”

His eyebrows shot up. Man, there was something insanely hot about a woman who looked like Lily St. Clare and spoke with a trucker mouth.

“What? You think only guys can say that word?
Cock?
” Her chest heaved and he was very aware of her nipples pressing up against her top. Hell, he even felt a twinge down there and, considering he was pissed off, that was saying something.

“I can call it a dick if that makes you feel any better.”

“No,” he said. “Cock is good.”

“Or the
P
word.”

“
P
word?”

“Peiner, you know instead of—”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Mackenzie felt a chunk of that darkness leave him as he stared across the table at the hottest woman he’d ever met. And it wasn’t just the physical. It was so much more than that. She had a fire inside her…a state of being that he wanted to immerse himself in.

Lily St. Clare could quickly become his drug of choice.

“Peiner sounds kind of juvenile,” he said, after a few moments had passed.

Lily shrugged. “If the shoe fits…”

She drained her wineglass and set it on the table carefully, her delicate fingers crinkling the edge of her napkin. Her forehead was furrowed, and she bit on her lower lip as she stared at the table. When she suddenly looked up and caught his gaze, Mackenzie felt like he was falling.

Falling into her.

Her lips were parted, her hair still riding the wind, and damn but his cock, or dick or whatever the hell she wanted to call it, was suddenly roaring to life.

“You want me,” she said softly.

Mackenzie didn’t say a word because there was no point.

Her eyes dropped down to the bulge in his shorts and damn if he didn’t twitch. “That’s good,” she whispered, eyes still on the prize. “I want you too, Mackenzie, and I don’t think I realized how much until right now. You’re different from any man I’ve met before, and maybe it’s because I see something inside you that I recognize…” Her voice trailed off and he wondered what she meant. “Or maybe it’s because I like looking at you. I like talking to you and I like touching you.” She paused and licked her lips. “I want to be with you again, Mackenzie. I want New Year’s Eve in the summer. I want you inside me.”

Jesus.

“I want it hard and fast.”

Holy. Hell. Okay, he was going to explode if she didn’t stop.

“And then I want you to make love to me, slowly, touching every inch of me with your hands, your fingers, and your mouth. I want to ride you. I want you behind me… I want you in me for as long as we want to do this.” She gestured with her hands. “Whatever it is that we want to call it. But I want us to be honest with each other. I know that you’re not a commitment guy, and I’m pretty sure you know I feel the same way. But this has to be an exclusive thing. I don’t share.”

He nodded. He could do that.

“If you meet someone and want to break it off, just tell me, or if I meet someone—”

“You won’t.”

“What?”

A heartbeat passed.

“You won’t meet anyone else,” he repeated.

And then another.

Lily took a moment. “Okay. Seems as if we want the same thing, but…”

Mackenzie was so hot for her, he barely registered her words. To finally meet a woman who was more than willing to explore an explosive physical relationship without the emotional crap was unbelievable. Sure, he’d met a few women who walked the walk in the past, but none of them had his interest the way Lily did.

“But?” he repeated when the fog cleared.

“You need to get your shit together because I don’t want to be with a guy who likes to run away when things get heated. You’re either all in or you’re not. I get that you’ve got some issues with your family—”

“How the hell would you know anything about my family?”

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Jake is my best friend. He’s said some things…nothing specific, but enough for me to know there’s stuff there.”

Mac was going to kick Jake in the ass the next time he saw him.

“You need to get over it. When you see me, you need to leave the baggage behind. We all have scars. We all have regrets. But there’s a time and a place, and it sure as hell isn’t in the bedroom.”

Lily moved past him and reached the patio doors. She glanced over her shoulder, her hands on her breasts, those damn, delicate fingers slowly rotating over her nipples.

“Think about it, Mac. I don’t want to be a punching bag for all your emotional shit. I’ve got too much of my own to deal with, but if you can get past all that stuff, well…”

She pushed the door open and disappeared.

A few seconds later, his brain registered her parting shot.

“It’s gonna be one hell of a summer.”

Mac stared after her, his pulse quickening at the thought.

It certainly was.

Chapter 10

Mac’s mother had a fresh pot of coffee brewing when he arrived just before seven the next morning. Always an early riser, Lila was dressed for church in a pale pink dress, with biscuits cooling on the counter and her blond hair in curlers. She handed Mac a mug as soon as he walked through the door, and he accepted it, kissing her cheek before settling down to the kitchen table.

“Do you want something to eat, Mackenzie? I can whip you up some eggs if you like.”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m good. Had a bowl of cereal before I left the cottage.”

His mother took a sip from her mug, a slight frown on her face. “I don’t know why you’re spending money renting a cottage when there’s plenty of room right here.”

“I’m a big boy, Mom. Been looking after myself for years now. I need my space.”

“But the cost…it’s a waste if you ask me.”

Mackenzie didn’t have to pinch pennies—his job paid him very well—but he knew his mother was used to watching every dime. There wasn’t a time that he didn’t remember when she wasn’t questioning the cost of something.

Do
you
really
need
that?

Was
it
on
sale?

Or his favorite.

It
might
be
a
little
big
on
you, Mackenzie, but you’ll grow into it.

Mac took a swig of coffee. “Don’t worry about it. Technically I’m here working, so I can write some of it off. Besides, looks as if you’re going to have a full house for the summer.”

His mother nodded but didn’t answer. Mac let a few moments pass before he pressed her.

“How long have you known?”

“Known?” She looked at him in surprise.

“How long have you known that Dave’s been using Becca as a punching bag?”

His mother looked horrified. “What are you talking about? Becca told me that she fell down the stairs.”

Holy. Christ. Was his mother that much in denial?

“Fell down the stairs,” he repeated.

When she didn’t say anything, his voice rose. “Becca fell down the stairs and broke her arm.”

“Her arm’s not broken. It’s just sprained, and don’t you dare raise your voice to me, Mackenzie Draper.”

Mac shook his head but lowered his voice. “She split her lip and somehow managed to end up with a black eye. All of that from a fall down the stairs.”

Again, his mother said nothing.

“Huh, those stairs must have had grabby arms.”

Mac set his coffee mug on the table and rolled his shoulders. He didn’t get this. He didn’t get this one bit. How could his mother be so goddamn blind?

“She came to you in the middle of the night without her husband,” he continued.

His mother’s mouth pursed in that way that she had—that way that told him it didn’t matter what he said, she was looking down a tunnel, and it wasn’t one that he could see. It was a tunnel that led straight to denial.

“Becca told me that she was restless and couldn’t sleep. Said she missed me. Nothing more. David’s busy trying to find a job, so she decided to come for a visit.”

“For the entire summer?” he said, pushing back from the table. “Let me get this straight. You think that Becca would rather be back here because she doesn’t have a life in Iowa? That Liam is jumping up and down to be in Crystal Lake because he has no friends back home in Iowa?”

Mac thought of his buddies and how they had got him through the toughest, darkest times in his life. Liam must be pissed. No wonder the kid seemed so insolent.

His mother slowly got out of her seat and grabbed both of their mugs. She rinsed them in the kitchen sink and then placed them on the drying rack on the counter.

“Becca’s marriage is none of my business, Mackenzie, and it’s certainly none of yours.”

Unbelievable.

His mother would never allow herself to see what was right in front of her because if she did, she’d have to confront her own demons. Her own weaknesses.

And her sins.

Not protecting a child from a maniac like Ben Draper was a sin that he didn’t think he would ever be able to forgive, no matter how much he loved his mother. Loving that bastard more than she loved her own kids was something he would never be able to wrap his head around.

He glanced up at the clock—7:10 and already his mood was black. This had to be some kind of record, even for him. Mac didn’t have time for any of this shit.

He scraped his chair back and headed out of the kitchen. “I’m going to start on the fence.”

Mac spent a few hours sanding and scraping the fence boards so that it was ready for paint and by the time he rolled out the cans and grabbed his brush, the sun was burning hot. He inserted his earbuds and got busy, listening to some old classics from U2 and The Stones as he lost himself in the therapy known as good old-fashioned labor.

He managed to get three sections finished before his sister stepped in front of him, and Mac withdrew the buds, tossing his brush into a can as he turned to Becca.

Her bad eye was now a great shade of puke green, with yellow and purple along for the ride, though on a positive note, the swelling had gone down. She’d pulled her hair up into a clip, and without makeup, she looked young. And sad.

And kind of broken.

“Liam’s changing into some old clothes. I told him to come and help you.”

Mac wiped sweat from his brow. “I’m sure he was real happy to hear that.”

Becca attempted a smile. “It was that or church with Mom.”

“Well now, I guess Uncle Mac beats the gospel on a hot summer day.”

She handed him a bottle of water, and Mac accepted it, taking a long drink and then whipping off his sweat-soaked T-shirt.

“Wow,” Becca said. “When did you get that?” She pointed to his tattoo.

“The week I graduated from college.”

Her brow furrowed. “I didn’t know. What does it mean?”

Mac glanced at the Sanskrit that graced his bicep and was quiet for a few seconds. “It means…don’t look back.”

“Oh,” Becca said softly.

And then, “Oh my God! Is that Cain Black?” She moved so that she was half-hidden behind Mackenzie, her hand tugging on his arm crazily. “Holy shit, I didn’t know he was back in Crystal Lake. Why didn’t you tell me he was here?”

“Maybe because he’s married and so are you.” Christ, some things never changed. All of his sisters had gone kooky over the rocker, and they used to fall all over themselves trying to get Cain to notice them whenever he was around.

Mac turned toward the driveway. Big black SUV. Yep. It was Cain.

“Jesus, Becs, you’re going to yank my damn arm out of its socket. He’s a guy. Flesh and blood like the rest of us.”

She let go, and Mac strode over to Cain as he exited his truck, grabbing him up in a guy hug, which basically meant they kinda sorta slapped shoulders and head butted each other. A small head popped up beside him, and Mac messed up the curls of Maggie’s boy, Michael. Last he’d heard, Cain had adopted him. They were one big, happy family now with another on the way. Cain had moved his family back to Crystal Lake a few months ago and, from what Mac understood, planned on recording his band’s next record in his basement.

Cain’s hair was a lot longer these days, but the look was good, and judging from the reaction of his sister, it worked. Dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt, the guy seemed relaxed considering he was gonna be a daddy in a few months.

Or weeks? Hell, Mac wasn’t up on all that stuff.