The Loneliest Alpha (The MacKellen Alphas) (24 page)

Dang,
but she was already mucking this apology thing up before it even started. In
her defense, she wasn’t used to this whole apology thing. She didn’t live with
another person and she hadn’t dated anyone since Robert.

She
went back over her mental list for dinner tonight. The salad was done. He didn’t
have any salad dressings—really who did that?—so she’d made a simple one her
mom used to make, a light, creamy dressing that tasted good with any kind of
salad.

The
mashed potatoes were hot and ready to go, the steak was cooked, and the
strawberries were marinating in sugar and the biscuits for dessert were
cooling. All she had to do was beat the whipped cream.

She
got to work on it, whipping the mixture like her life depended on it. When one
arm started to burn she switched arms. After her biceps felt like how Arnold
Schwarzenegger’s looked, the mixture formed foamy peaks. Perfect!

Now,
the wait.

What
did she do now? Everything was ready to be served. Was he coming down or not?
Normally she would have been tempted to head up there and find out for herself
but she still teetered in dangerous territory because she’d messed up.

He
was right, no doubt about that. And after she’d cried a bit last night and her
mind cleared she knew he was
really
right. He’d obviously moved the box
after she’d noticed it the first time and she’d stolen his secret from him that
he’d wanted to give to her. It wasn’t fair and he had every right to be angry.
She just hoped this might cool some of that anger. And make him realize that
while she’d been startled at his face, it didn’t matter to her.

That’s
when she heard it. His bedroom door opening and his heavy steps coming down the
stairs. She started to sit down then cursed herself and stood by the oven
waiting—and probably looking like an idiot as she tried to appear nonchalant
and confident.

He
came in smelling fresh and looking haggard. Of course, that could be how he
always looked. She didn’t have a clue because she’d never spent any time
looking at his face before.

His
gaze didn’t meet hers, but stared at the kitchen table.

She
took that moment to look at him in the light without the weight of anger that
had been riding him last night, and made a decision. It didn’t take long.

So
she let him know.

“I
like you just fine.”

Eyebrows
dipping low in confusion, mouth twisted into a frown. “What?”

She
crossed her arms like she was about to win a debate. “I like you just fine.”

“What
the hell does that mean?”

She
thought about it for a second, nodded. “It means that I like you. I don’t care
what your face looks like. Besides, it’s not that bad.”

“Not
that bad,” he said slowly.

She
nodded.

Baffled,
and he looked cute when he was baffled, he shook his head. Then he started
toward her. Her heart rate kicked up, breath hitched and she backed up into the
counter one hand held out in front of her as if to ward him off. The alpha had
a way of making her feel scared and excited all at the same time.

He
looked down at her hand and made a sound like he thought her defense was
laughable. It was. He grabbed her hand and pushed it down to her side as his
other hand reached up to cup her jaw.

Oh.
My.

While
her insides turned to hot mush and her lungs worked to breathe normally, their
eyes were locked on each other. And his…Gavin MacKellen’s deep-set blue eyes
were something she hadn’t seen before. Who knew, maybe this is how he looked
when he’d kissed her before. This was the first time she’d been this close to
him without anything obscuring her vision and…with her bandaged face and his
scarred one—she felt a connection, an understanding.

“Now
that I’m up close, you really gonna tell me it’s ‘not that bad’?”

Her
eyes traced over the scars. Sure they were there, many of them, but it wasn’t
as if his face made up his entire person. She’d felt his kiss firsthand and
knew it was exceptional; she’d been witness and the recipient of his kindness
and in rare cases, his laughter. He’d helped her after the terrifying car
accident. He was someone she could trust with her thoughts, which was no easy
decision for her seeing as her ex had destroyed that ability in her. Or so she
had thought.

“Yes,
I am saying that.”

His
eyes narrowed as one arm sneaked around her waist, holding her, wrapping her up
in his fresh scent and warm body. She swore if he didn’t kiss her right now,
she might die.

“Lady,
you got some real bad eyesight if you think that.” 

Somehow
she managed not to stutter. “I’ll have you know I have perfectly good eyesight.
No glasses needed here.”

Heat
grew where their bodies touched.

“I
think you’re wrong about that, sweetheart.”

Her
eyes softened at the endearment, not thrown at her in that mean way, but like
this, when he said it as if she meant something to him. “Gavin…” her voice
trailed off.

Then
he bent his head down and their lips met.

Neither
of them moved, both afraid to break the spell. Soft lips pressing against soft
lips, barely touching yet feeling so strongly.

Buzzzzz!

She
jolted back at the sound of the kitchen buzzer. He let go of her but not before
she noticed the MacKellen smirk gracing his mouth. She didn’t have time to
figure out what that smirk was about because she had dinner to prepare.

“Sit
down.”

Trying
to force her heart rate to slow down, she filled their plates while keeping an
eye on him.

This
whole situation felt odd yet familiar.

So
strange. She was eating with a man that she’d technically eaten with before,
albeit he’d been sitting in shadows. She was also about to eat with a man that
she’d kissed and who’d seen her near naked in lingerie, yet she’d never seen
his face before.

It
was odd that she was seeing him for the first time in a way, yet the situation
felt achingly familiar as if she’d known what he looked like this whole time. As
if she’d erected an image in her mind of his face like a plate setter and her
image aligned perfectly with his. So it wasn’t a huge shock anymore.

And
did she care about his face? No, although she did feel bad that something
terrible had happened to him. True, the damage would never go away could
probably never be fixed even with extensive plastic surgery, but the face didn’t
make up the man.

Her
curious natured yearned to ask him about it but she knew he’d clam up. She’d
probably do that same if their situations were reversed.

She
set down their plates and bowls of salad then took a seat.

He
eyed the food with part-longing, part-hesitance. “You cooked for me.”

She
nodded.

“Why?”

This
was the difficult part. “Well, for a few reasons. For one, I wanted to say I’m
sorry for what I did last night. I could lie and say that I was out of it from
the car accident, which, don’t get me wrong, I was, but not enough to not know
that looking into that box was wrong. I knew what I was doing and I let my
curiosity get the better of me.”

She
studied his face for reaction only to find him staring at her with unreadable
eyes. Sucking in a breath, she continued.

“So,
I’m sorry. Like…
really
sorry. I messed up and I feel terrible about it.
God, the words don’t even do it justice.”

He
leaned back in his seat, draping one arm across the back of his chair. Her eyes
devoured the sight. He had such an air of cowboy about him, that hardworking
air that just made things inside her pull taut.

“Let
me see if I get this straight. Because you invaded my privacy and did something
you know was wrong, you decided to make me some steak and potatoes as way of
apology?”

She
bit her lip. “You make it sound so stupid.” He arched an eyebrow. “But I made
strawberry shortcake too,” she rushed to say.

He
started nodding then settled in over her food. “I guess that does make
everything better.”

She
stared at him as he dug into his steak, mixing it with mashed potatoes before
taking a bite.

“Really,
do you mean that?”

Chewing,
he glanced up at her, nodded, then went back to eating.

“Wait,
that can’t be it. I did something terrible. A stupid dinner and dessert doesn’t
make up for that.”

He
swallowed looking torn between laughing and swallowing. “You want me to be mad
at you?”

She
thought about it, then shrugged. “I don’t know what I want, to be honest. I
just know I messed up and I want to make it better.”

“You
apologized, you meant it, and you made me dinner. From where I’m sitting, you
accomplished your duty, sweetheart.”

Oh
lord. There it was again. And the pressure came back in her chest at the sound
of that endearment and she clamped her mouth shut and got busy on her food.

She
found that the companionable silence nice. For a little while.

“You
really forgive me?”

He
slammed his fork down and started to laugh, his whole body shaking. “You don’t
give up, do you?”

“I
just want to be sure.”

“Woman,
I don’t lie, so when I say I forgive you, I do.”

“Okay,
it’s just that I did something really bad and I know I really upset you and I
want to make it up to you.”

His
mouth opened and closed; he was shaking his head. Next thing she knew, he was
standing up beside her chair looking down at her with an expression that made
her hands clench and stomach start doing cartwheels.

“What?”
she asked in a small voice.

“Stand
up.”

Gulp.
“Why?”

“Because
you want a real punishment and I’m going to give you one.”

What
on earth did that mean? Her body shuddered with erotic heat.

When
she didn’t say anything, that deep raspy voice of his lowered to a threat. “I
said stand up, sweetheart.”

Holy
hell, she started chanting on in her head. She stood on weak legs.

His
eyes trailed down her body in a look that could only be described as assessing
and satisfied.

She
became very conscious of what she’d chosen to wear for dinner tonight. A pair
of nice jeans, the kind that hugged her figure well, and a spaghetti-strapped
tank top with a T-shirt over it in dual layers. Nothing extraordinary, nothing
even remotely sexy, yet his look said the exact opposite.

“Bend
over and grab hold the table.”

“What
did you say?”

He
leaned into her. “Bend over and grab hold of the table, Alicia. I’m going to
give you your punishment now.”

She
turned and grabbed the edge of the table as raw emotion swamped her, a primal
mixture of arousal and excitement. Just what would he do to her and how much
would she like it?

He
stepped behind her and she closed her eyes, struggling to get her own ragged
breathing under control.

“Gavin…”

“Quiet
now, it’s my turn to do the talking, only I won’t be doing it with my mouth.”

An
ache grew hot and wet between her legs. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly
a hard swat landed on her bottom making her jump in surprise.

“Be
quiet before you make this worse for yourself.”

So
she shut her mouth and waited.

She
had no idea what to expect, what he was going to do, but, when he finally moved
to touch her, her body sighed with pleasure.

He
grabbed her hips, his touch strong and demanding, fingers gripping and
kneading. Those hands stretched across her stomach as his rough voice started
to speak softly. “You did something bad last night and it seems we can’t move
past this until I make you.” His hands dipped over her stomach and tugged at
the button of her jeans. A teasing whisper of what he might do.

“How…”
She swallowed hard. “How’s that?” Liquid heat pulsed inside her, teasing her
panties with wetness.

As if
in answer, he stepped into her, pressing his hips against her bottom and showed
her just how rock hard he was.

“You
ask an awful lot of questions for someone who’s been bad.”

With
those mind-numbing words, he opened the button to her jeans and her stomach
clenched in response at the touch. He tugged her zipper down.

“It
looks like I need to help you move on from this,” he said gruffly.

What
had she gotten herself into
,
Alicia wondered. And did she even care?

Her pulse
leapt, and fire grew inside her making her body strain against him, rub back
against the hardness digging into her.