WLUV Box Set: Ignited, Consumed, Burned (19 page)

What
happened – what almost happened – at the hands of Davie Groll, replayed in his
mind’s eye, but it was all mixed together with Karen and he had to fight an ill
feeling in his stomach.

**

When they
got to her apartment Mac insisted that he see her in. He stalked around her
tiny apartment checking the locks on her doors and windows. He grumbled words
like, “useless,” “flimsy,” “sitting duck.” He sounded a bit like Macy when she
muttered at the television screens. Really, Mac in her tiny apartment was
somewhat comical to her. His head almost hit the ceiling his shoulders seemed
to fill the width of her tiny studio space.

But Shelby
let him continue his perimeter check. She wanted him to stay, stay and stay.
She was safe with Mac; she wanted him, and the events of the day had unleashed
something fierce. When he walked into that smelly kitchen and pummeled that
little asshole Davie, it added another layer to the heat she already felt. His
urge to protect her stirred her blood even more.

Mac
finished his check of her apartment.

He was
right— if she was in his sights, she was safe. Safe in a way that allowed her
to do what she needed to get the story. He’d proven it.

But she
wanted to be in his sights when it had nothing to do with a story.

 “Can I
get you some water?” It was a lame thing to say but it was all she could think
of. What she wanted was to not talk. She wanted him to not go away and she
wanted to be in his arms but didn’t quite know how to get there.

“I think
what I need is a stiff drink. But sure, water’s probably a good idea.”

With her
back to him, Shelby filled a glass. And then she couldn’t stand it anymore.
Screw it. Mac was a statute, granite, stubborn, bossy. She was going to take
what she wanted and he’d just have to try to resist her.

She turned
and stepped as close to him as she could with the water glass. He took it
without touching her hand and had a sip. She took it back and put her lips
where his had been. His eyes were focused on her lips. She hoped she could pull
off her bold play.

He thought
she was a puppy? Fine. She’d nip at him.

She put
the water down and stepped closer still. Mac had his back up against the
cabinets of her tiny kitchen space and had nowhere to go. He kept his hands on
the counter, quite deliberately—she noticed he was gripping the edges of the
Formica.

Then she
put her hands on his chest. She’d been near him, too near him, all day from the
moment he burst in and saved her from Davie to the car ride home. She had had a
taste of him the other day in the edit bay. She was persistent and used to
getting her way, and she’d made up her mind. She would be with Mac.

“What are
you playing at, lamb?” Mac’s voice was deeper than normal. He was nervous, she
could tell, it gave her a little thrill to know emotions over her warred inside
him as they did inside her.

“It looks
to me like you’re afraid of a little lamb. Some big bad wolf you are…” She
couldn’t help but taunt him. She wanted to shake him, push him over the edge.

Shelby
slowly placed her hands on his chest and crawled her fingers up towards his
neck. She gently tugged the collar of his T-shirt and eyed his neck, his jaw.
The jaw was what did her in. That was where she was headed first.

She ran
her teeth along it, then moved her lips over the path she’d made. She kissed
under his ear where his too-long hair dusted his shoulders, and then she
practically climbed up him, standing on the tips of her toes and holding on to
his strong arms to stabilize herself.

Mac made
no move to hold her off, but he made no move to hold her. She rubbed her body
against him as she strained to travel further up. His eyes were closed when she
took a peek at him and his head lolled back as she worked. She felt him respond
to her, his heat and hardness telling her what his hands would not. At least
some parts of him were on her side.

Shelby
burrowed in and up around his neck. Then the most delicious sound happened, a
growl escaped Mac’s throat. She knew she had him then.

“Kiss me
Mac, I want you so much. I never wanted anyone this badly. Please.” There, she
begged. She didn’t care about humiliation, the rules, what he wanted, she just
wanted to know what it was like to be with him.

“Shelby.”
He lifted her up like she was nothing and her legs involuntarily wrapped around
him. He took two steps forward and gently leaned her back on the kitchen table.
She braced herself on her hands. Mac mimicked the path that her mouth had taken
with his jaw, it was her turn. He traced her chin with his teeth, nibbled her
ear.

It was
lovely but not enough. She wanted him to rip her clothes off. Patience was not
Shelby Virtue’s virtue and she knew it.

Mac
pressed into her, inhaling her hair…

And he
stopped.

“Shelby.”

“What?
Mac.” Shelby kissed his forehead, and he lay his head down on her chest as it
rose and fell.

“What?” He
was stopping.
Why
?

Mac stood
up. “We’re, uh, we’re not going to do this.”

“Don’t you
want me? I thought—did I—? Was I wrong?” Shelby felt her face flush hot as she
perched herself on the table.

“There are
things about me you don’t know. I’m not a good bet. Really not something you
want to get messed up with.” Mac was clearly struggling with something, but
Shelby had no idea what. He continued to back away from her like she was a
poisonous snake or something.

“I’m not a
little girl. I can handle it. Tell me.” Shelby wanted to be inside Mac’s head,
but she could see one wall after another go up right before her eyes.

He took a
few more steps back. “I’m really sorry. You are hard to resist. I shouldn’t
have let it get this far.”

“You
what
?
I was the one—” Shelby had been getting more embarrassed by the second and now
she was becoming angry. Both emotions were bubbling up. A sweat had broken out
under her collar.

“We work
together. That’s it. You did a great job today. Great. And I was freaked out
when Davie had you. It was awful and my fault. Always my fault, these women
don’t get how dangerous….”

These
women
? She
wondered what he was talking about. “Are you even aware I’m in the room right
now?” Shelby’s anger was growing and it beat the crap out of embarrassment in
this round.

“Yes. I’m
sorry. I gotta get out of here. This will not be happening. You need to find
someone nice— someone your age, and nice. And make sure you lock your front
door dammit.” The door slammed. Mac was gone.

Shelby had
no fucking idea what just happened. She was so aroused and then so frustrated
she didn’t know what to do. And she was pissed.

Screw Ray
Macmillan. She was officially done. Except she knew she had no interest in
someone young, or nice, or anyone other than Mac. She stomped her foot on the
kitchen floor and had no clue what to do next.

She could
still smell that spot between his earlobe and jaw.

Turns out
she really did suck at seduction.

Mac wasn’t
going to ask to stop working with Shelby this time. He wasn’t going to make a
damn issue out of their ridiculous attraction. He was going to suck it up and
do his job. He didn’t feel the need to put her through her paces anymore
either, she’d proved herself. Now it was his turn. Shelby deserved the best,
but he wasn’t it. He may be the best photographer she’d get in Grand City or
anywhere, but she deserved way more in the romance department. She deserved
someone her age, someone stable, someone rich even. He pushed aside the
thoughts of her having a boyfriend.

He hated
the idea of anyone touching her, but he didn’t want to lead her on or hurt her.
So a cool professional relationship was what it would be. Eventually, she’d get
over it. She did have short attention span, he reasoned.

Mac’s
focus narrowed in the next week, as did Shelby’s. Her reports had succeeded in
forcing the police to search Davie Groll’s house. They found every single kind
of accelerant used in the South End’s house fires.

Several
charges were filed; Shelby, no question, with her stories and her perseverance,
had broken the case wide open.

Davie
Groll was set to do his perp walk. The town newspaper and the competing
stations were all on to the story now. Groll was going to be charged with
murder in the arson death of Angie’s granddaughter, and Mac and Shelby were
there to get whatever sound bites they could during his walk from the police
department to the jail.

They
hadn’t talked about what happened the day of the protest. In fact, Shelby
seemed to be taking the situation better than he’d hoped. She didn’t try to
question his motives for walking away. She didn’t ask about his confusion over
just who he was protecting and when. She put on a professional face and kept it
there. Mac was relieved they could work together without drama but in a way he
was also disappointed. The sparks between them were something else, he had to
admit. No doubt, she was the highlight of his life in Grand City.

Secor
Comstock was there, of course. She eyed him up and down and looked like she
wanted to punch little Shelby. The woman could not resist taunting the young
reporter and it was clearly part of her game to get the upper hand. Mac had
seen a hundred of her type. Aggressive and ambitious and mean enough to get
exactly what they wanted, from interviews to promotions.

“Oh, I see
you graduated to getting your own photographer there, Shelly. And wow, grrr.
Gorgeous too.” Secor ran her tongue over her lips for Mac’s benefit.

Mac stayed
silent. He was not going to engage with this woman.

“Not like
my old fart photographer. Jerry here gets the shots, but I’m not about to jump
his bones.” Mac could see that Secor was working her game hard, trying to throw
Shelby off by being mouthy. Reporters could trash talk with the best NFL
offensive lineman.

“Mac’s
okay, and Jerry, don’t you listen to her. I like your style.” Shelby winked at
Jerry, Secor’s rumpled-looking photographer.

“Thanks
kid. Don’t tell my wife.” The two of them chuckled. It was just about all the
jocularity he could stand but Mac was proud of Shelby for not letting Secor get
one up on her.

Then the
doors opened. Mac had already coached Shelby on where to stand so they’d get
her and Davie in frame. They were ready to beat Secor at her own game.

“Davie,
why did you do it?” Mac noticed that she didn’t use a yes or no question this
time, another big step forward for her as a reporter. Secor was yelling
questions at him, too, some bullshit like “How did you feel when they arrested
you?”

Groll
ignored Secor and looked right at Shelby. “I’m here in these because of you.”
He rattled his cuffs in her face. The police shoved him forward. Mac was behind
Shelby with the camera on his shoulder but used his other arm to pull her back
into him when Groll made his advance.

“Move it
along, Groll.” The detectives reasserted control over the suspect as he entered
the elevator and the doors closed. WLUV had just what they needed for their six
o’clock news story.

“He’s
right you know,” Mac said.

“What?”
Shelby and Mac headed for the stairwell.

“
You
got him. Good job.”

“Thanks.”
She didn’t look at Mac, she didn’t joke with him like she did Jerry a few
minutes ago; she didn’t even try to catch his eye. Mac’s plan to make her move
on was working. And he hated it.

**

The week
after Mac had made it clear he was not interested in Shelby was an awful one.
But since she’d thrown herself at him and had been soundly rejected she’d have
to learn to live with it. If she didn’t want her career to suffer then, she had
to work with Mac, who was easily the best photographer in town. Just work,
though. Period. And there was no way she was going to go in and cry about it to
Macy, either. Actually the very idea mortified her. Nope. Macy said it to her
on that first day and now Shelby lived it: There was no crying in news.

As
frustrating as her love life was right now there was one area where she felt
totally satisfied, and that was her work. Macy called her in on Friday after
her perp walk with Davie Groll aired. She was back at the station and finishing
up when Macy beckoned.

Wes
Thompson was in his traditional chair next to Macy, who was smiling.

“Yes
boss?” Shelby said.

“Well,
what are you going to do to top yourself?”

“I don’t
know…?” Shelby tried to suppress a smile.

“The last
few weeks your work has made me really proud of you. We’ll worry about the next
big thing next week.” Macy said.

Wes chimed
in. “And you might be happy to hear we’re all sold out of the Grand Inner City
Ballet Gala. Our station’s sponsorship and your story did the trick,” then he
chuckled, “though that means I have to wear a tux, which I haven’t done in a
year.”

“Still
gonna fit?” Macy ribbed Wes and for a second Shelby felt like she was
interrupting. They seemed to balance work and love. Why was it so hard for her,
for Mac? Damned man.

“What,
because you’re cooking’s so good?” Wes teased Macy right back.

“Touché”
Macy was known for not eating much less cooking.

“Alright,
back to you, Shelby. You got the dress on loan for the Gala?” Macy had worked
out a trade so that Shelby didn’t look like a poor relative at the social event
designed to draw big donors to the Grand Inner City Ballet cause.

“Yes, and
it’s beautiful actually— navy blue with hot pink accessories, and shortened to
fit my incredible non-height.” Shelby was not looking forward to the fancy
event but felt she owed it to the station and Miss Dara to do everything she
could for the ballet.

“Wonderful.
And about what time is your part? I want to be sure we have a photog there when
you debut with Brick Cooper.” Macy asked.

“I think
we do our thing at 8:00.” Shelby hoped that Brick Cooper, leading the polls in
the race to become Grand City’s next mayor, was ready for their charity
performance. She really wanted to be taken seriously and was only doing this because
Macy said it was okay. Participating in community events was also a component
of a television news job.

“Wait,
what part? What thing?” Wes asked.

“We’ll
surprise ya,” Macy said.

“Hmm.” Wes
gave Macy a sidelong glance.

“Wes and I
can bring you home if you need us to.”

“Great.
I’m getting a ride there from Brick Cooper if you can believe it. We both have
to be there early to get one last practice in with Miss Dara, plus I want to
help get the dancers ready. I do love the behind-the-scenes stuff.”

“Okay
then. Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow night will be fun, don’t worry!”

“Fun
except for the tux.” Wes chimed in again.

“Hush,
it’s for a good cause.”

“Whatever
you say, G.” And with that Shelby left the two of them, not without a little
jealousy for what they had together.

When she
wasn’t at work, pretending not to give a damn about Mac, pretending not to
notice every move he made, pretending not to do cartwheels inside when he
complimented her, she was restless. The only time her brain and her hormones
were “off” were the times at Grand Inner City Ballet. She’d committed to
helping with one class a week and to the special surprise for the Gala.

Brick
Cooper was a part of that surprise. He was handsome enough— in fact, he was the
sort of man that had a lot of women panting in his wake, with his wavy blonde
and grayish hair. Though he had to be over forty, he was in great shape for his
age, and he still had a little edge about him from his days as Grand City’s
police chief. He was pitching in to this event because he was also Miss Dara’s
brother. But Shelby didn’t have any interest. When it came to men, Mac was the
only one on her mind.

Once upon
a time she thought her life would be the ballet. When that didn’t happen she
switched gears so abruptly to news that she never looked back. She was grateful
that Miss Dara showed her that the ballet could still be a part of her life,
even if her childhood fantasy of becoming prima ballerina wouldn’t come true.
It was because of Miss Dara that she agreed to perform at the gala.

It wasn’t
a bad life, working at WLUV and helping Miss Dara. Apparently the love and sex
part just weren’t supposed to happen for her right now. The only man she’d ever
been crazy about was not interested in her at all. Maybe she was going to be
like a work nun.

She slept
in a bit Saturday morning and spent the rest of the day doing pretty much
nothing. For the first time since the arson story started she wasn’t compelled
to work on her stories, call sources, and read police reports. Instead, she
talked to her mother in Florida, who watched everything she did online, and
before long it was time to get ready. She tried not to wonder what Mac did on
his days off. Did he have days off?

A honk
alerted her to the fact the Brick Cooper was there.

He opened
her car door when she walked outside. “Hey there, partner. You all set?” Cooper
seemed to have an easy rapport with people, a good quality for a politician.
After their three practices he was feeling pretty confident but admitted he was
depending on her to make him look good.

“Here’s
the deal, you need to dazzle them with your beauty so they don’t see me trip
and fall.” He gave her a wink. Brick’s easy good nature was the opposite of his
sister Miss Dara. The ballet instructor was a force of nature and Shelby had to
stay on her toes – literally – to keep up with her.

They
arrived at the Grand City Athletic club for the Gala, another gorgeous historic
downtown building. Unlike the Grand Inner City Ballet, this one was maintained
meticulously and Shelby had learned it was a part of a network of athletic
clubs like the ones in New York and Chicago. Apparently rich dudes who were
members showed up and always had a swanky place to crash. It was a remnant from
Grand City’s much grander past.

There were
several ballrooms in the club. Miss Dara was thrilled because before WLUV and
her brother signed on to the Gala, the event had been scheduled in the smallest
room. Now it was being held in the main ballroom, which accommodated 500
people. Miss Dara greeted her when she made her way to the hair and makeup
room, garment bag in tow.

“You’re
here!
Magnifique
.” Miss Dara’s use of French phrases made Shelby smile
and reminded her of her old life in dance.

“We’ve got
hair here, and makeup in the next room.”

“How about
I help with the kids for about an hour and then get myself processed?” Shelby
offered.

“That
would be so appreciated.” Miss Dara had a lineup of dancers set to perform
between courses at the Gala. They needed their hair up, eyeliner, pancake, the
works.

“My dance
partner said to tell you he was going to roam around the place for a while.”

Miss Dara
rolled her eyes. “Yes, probably shaking hands with waiters and the staff here.
Every vote counts don’t you know?”

“If he
wasn’t my little brother he’d have backed out. As it is I threatened him, I’d
reveal several childhood embarrassments to ruin his campaign.” Miss Dara did
not seem to be joking.

“So why
did it take him so long to commit to your event?” Shelby was curious.

“It’s all
about the votes
ma cherie
. When he saw that you, WLUV, and maybe even
Wes Thompson could be on his side…let’s just say he’s not dumb. He’d put a tutu
on if I said so right now.” It appeared Miss Dara wasn’t above a little
political gossip.

“I imagine
a lot of women would pay to see him in just about any outfit. Not bad looking
at all.” Shelby replied.

“Yes,
tough and handsome, the total package. But seriously lacking in the boyfriend
department, as he’s afraid of spiders. Why have one, if not for crushing
spiders?” Shelby laughed at Miss Dara’s assessment of men.

After
helping a dozen young dancers in a whirl of powder and tulle, Shelby sat down
for her turn. They’d decided to put her hair up, piled on top of her head in a
mass of loose curls. It was always good to see a dancer’s neck. She was sure
Miss Dara would be watching her lines for a critique later.