My whacky but lovable neighbor answered, “Mack! Is Frankie still there? I’m dying to know what’s going on.”
“Yes, she’s still here.”
Frankie blushed when she realized we were talking about her.
“Very good,” Mrs. M. said.
“We’re about to cook dinner, and we need some fresh garlic. Do you have any?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll come by.”
“Send Frankie,” she insisted.
“No.”
“That’s the condition. I want to get a good look at her. Frankie or no garlic.”
Crap.
I sighed. “Alright.”
I hung up and looked over at Frankie. “She insists on you being the one to run over and get it. She’s just being nosy. She’s harmless. Do you mind?”
“No, not at all.”
After Frankie ventured next door, she didn’t immediately return. I then realized sending her over to my crazy neighbor’s may have been a huge mistake.
Mrs. Migillicutty pulled her long sweater closed to fend off the cold as she met me at the door.
“I didn’t feel like putting on a bra just to give Mack some garlic. Didn’t want to shock the poor guy with my waist warmers.”
I laughed. “Ah. So, that’s why you insisted I come?”
“Okay, not entirely.” She waved me in. “I don’t want to keep you. I know he values this time with you, but I need to tell you something real quick, Frankie.”
“Okay…” I said, stepping inside her house.
“Just because he appears strong on the outside, doesn’t mean his heart is indestructible.”
Not expecting her to go there, I swallowed and said, “I know that.”
“Now, I don’t know anything about this man you’re with, but that guy in the house next door to me? He thinks you’re the one.”
“He said that?”
“You can tell a lot about someone by what they say when they drink and let their guard down. You get to the bottom of their mind. You’re all he talks about. And I’m pretty sure if he were taking his last breath, you’d be the last thing he thought about, too. Now, do what you want with the information. I’ve said my piece.”
I didn’t know what to say. “I appreciate your input.”
She pointed to an old photo of a smiling man who looked to be in his seventies. “See this handsome man? Fifty-one years he called me the one. And thank God I don’t have to live with any regrets, because when he died, he didn’t have to wonder whether the person he’d chosen to give his heart to in this lifetime loved him back.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Don’t be. No regrets. That’s what it’s all about, living with no regrets. If you truly love this other man you live with, just let Mack go. He’ll move on eventually. Lord knows, there would be a line of women waiting for that day. But see…right now, he can’t move on until he knows there’s absolutely no chance with you. Whether you know it or not, you’re carrying that man’s heart around with you everyday. At some point, you either need to give it back and set him free…or give him yours. If it’s him you want, don’t let fear get in the way of a good thing.”
Her words were hitting me hard.
“Okay, Mrs. M. I hear you.”
“Have a good night, Frankie Jane. I can see why he thinks you’re so adorable.”
I couldn’t help but smile as I walked back to Mack’s house.
He was waiting at the door for me and must have noticed the look on my face. “Fuck. What did she say to you?”
“Nothing. We had a nice little conversation.”
“Sure. Knowing her, that means she gave you the third degree.”
Waving the head of garlic, I said, “I’ve got the magic ingredient.”
“Nice change of subject. Seriously, did she say something to freak you out?”
Deciding to keep her advice private, I shook my head. “No, not at all. Come on, we have spaghetti to make.”
Mack already had the water boiling as I began to chop the fresh basil.
The sound of a cork popping prompted me to look over at him. He’d taken two glasses out and was pouring red wine into each. There was something so sexy about watching him do it. Well, maybe it was just him that was sexy rather than the process of pouring the wine. It was then that I noticed that he’d taken off his shoes and made himself more comfortable. He’d also removed his sweater, and now I could see the outline of his sculpted chest through his T-shirt.
Handing me one of the goblets, he said, “Don’t worry. I won’t open more than one bottle. There’s no fucking way I’m gonna spend any of this precious time too drunk to remember any of it.”
“Given our track record, I think that’s wise.”
“Anyway, I don’t need alcohol anymore to tell you how I really feel. I hope you don’t mind if I’m direct from time to time. You don’t have to say anything back, but I’m gonna tell you what’s on my mind if the moment beckons. I don’t really feel like I have anything to lose at this point.”
“Thank you for the fair warning.” Taking a sip, I said, “I didn’t think you were a wine drinker.”
“It’s sort of a recent thing, maybe it’s an acquired taste that comes with age. I’ve been pouring a glass or two every night to relax lately after a long day.”
“It’s hard to picture you all alone in this house during the week.”
“You’re telling me. I don’t like it very much, but being alone is better than living with someone who makes you unhappy. I’ve learned that the hard way. I’m very much at peace here aside from the downside of having to live apart from Jonah.”
Mack stood there swirling his drink around as he watched me prepare the sauce. My body was tingling, not from the wine, but from an awareness that his eyes were on me.
“Are you watching the pasta or me, Morrison?”
“Shit,” he said as he realized he was about to overcook the spaghetti.
“You had one task,” I joked. “One task…”
“Sorry, I was distracted. I love the sight of you in my kitchen too damn much.”
We ended up having a really nice dinner. I was relieved that we’d gotten the tough conversation from earlier out of the way. I felt very comfortable in his house, and that was a little unnerving. It was very easy to get lost in Mack’s magnetism. Guilt overtook me as Victor’s face flashed through my mind, but it wasn’t enough to keep me from enjoying being here.
“We got so caught up in talking, I didn’t even show you the rest of the house. I’ll have to give you the tour after dinner,” he said.
“I’d like that.”
“Then, I promise to get you home at a decent hour. I know you have to be up early—as do I—to get Jonah to school. You weren’t exactly expecting me to kidnap you.”
“I’m glad you did. We really needed that talk, and honestly, I love this house. Being here right now…sharing this meal…it’s really nice.”
“I love having you here.”
During the second half of dinner, the conversation moved to even lighter topics, like Mack’s volunteering at the school’s winter carnival this coming weekend. It was an indoor festival, and the theme was summertime in the winter. Mack had volunteered to get dunked in the dunking booth to help the school raise money. I couldn’t wait to try my hand at that game.
After we finished our pasta, Mack insisted on cleaning up while I polished off my glass of wine. It reminded me of the old days when I would cook, and he would do the dishes while we talked. A lot about the latter half of my time at his house tonight reminded me of old times. That feeling got even stronger as we made our way down to his basement.
“Holy man cave,” I said as we stepped into the space.
A large, black leather sectional took up most of the room. There was a massive TV and really cool recessed lighting. Some abstract art hung on the wall. The décor was modern yet cozy.
“You like it?”
“We would’ve enjoy
ed this room back in the day.”
“This is where Jonah and I watch movies when I can pull him away from his video games. And it’s where I spend most of my time when I’m alone.”
I wandered over to a bookshelf in the corner of the room. A few of the books were ones I recognized. One in particular shocked me.
“The Man Who Folded Himself? Didn’t you make fun of me for reading this very book?”
“I didn’t think I’d be bringing you here today, didn’t have time to hide the evidence of my science fiction collection.”
“Do you really read them?”
“I’ve read all of them. It’s been sort of my little secret. At first, it was just a way of connecting with you all these years when I couldn’t do it any other way. Over time, though, I found that I actually enjoyed them. I guess I was a latent geek all along.”
The fact that he’d used books to remember me was very touching.
“I still read weird stuff,” I admitted.
“I love to hear that. I figured you might.”
In the corner of the same shelf sat the Buffy the Vampire Slayer boxset I’d bought him years ago. “You still have this, too?”
“Of course. It’s my favorite gift that anyone’s ever given me.”
I smiled, remembering how excited and nervous I’d been to give him that present. “We had some really good times.”
“We did.” His gaze fell to my neck then met my eyes again. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the upstairs.
A small hallway on the second level contained the bathroom and three rooms. The first room on the left was where Mack worked.
“This is my office.”
A wooden desk sat in the corner. The apple at the back of his Mac laptop was illuminated. A small desk lamp provided the only other light.
“Nice laptop.”
“Well, once you go Mac, you never go back.” He winked.
“That was cheesy even for you, Morrison.”
He snickered.
Running my fingers over his desk, I said, “It’s nice that you can work from home.”
“I’m usually cooped up in here most of the day. I get antsy for air sometimes, so I’ll go get lunch and bring it over to Mrs. M.’s house.”
“I love that.”
He led me back out into the hall. “I’ll show you Jonah’s room.”
His son’s bedroom was sky blue with one solid red accent wall. There were toys everywhere in addition to lots of wires and game consoles. It was cluttered but seemed to be an organized mess.
“Wow. This room looks lived in for years.”
“Yeah. He spends so much time in it when he’s here. I filled it to the rim with everything he had back in Virginia and then some.”
“You spoil him, don’t you?”
“I do, but he doesn’t act spoiled, if that makes sense.”
“Oh, it does. I see that first hand. He’s a good kid.”
“I wish I could do more to make him happy. But I can only do so much. There are some things I just can’t change.”
A photo on the desk caught my eye. It was of Mack and Torrie with Jonah, looking like one big happy family on Christmas. An unwanted feeling of jealousy started to creep in. Mack noticed I was looking at it before I had a chance to say anything.
“That was taken a couple of years ago. I feel like it’s important to keep stuff like that around for him, so that he doesn’t think his parents were always miserable around him or with each other.”
“You’re right. It is important.”
“I’m sorry. If I were more prepared, I would’ve put that picture away. You don’t need to see that.”
“Mack, please. Don’t be silly. Hiding a photo doesn’t change anything.”
He nodded, seeming unsure as to whether my comment was meant to be simply factual or slightly bitter. I wasn’t sure I even knew.
“Let me show you my room.”
My heart beat a little faster as he led me across the hall into his bedroom.
Mack’s room was everything I would have imagined it to be. I looked around, quietly absorbing its understated masculinity. His amazing smell filled the airspace. A navy comforter sat atop the king-sized, dark cherry wood bed that was fitting for a man of his size.
Sitting down on the edge, I bounced lightly on the bed and ran my palms across the plush fabric. Being alone with him in here was definitely making me tense.
He leaned against his bureau, crossing his arms and quietly observing me.
A thought crossed my mind. I wondered if he’d been with anyone else besides Torrie. Mack was definitely a sexual person. I wondered how he could have possibly stayed celibate even in the short time he’d been in Boston. I honestly didn’t want to know if he hadn’t and chose not to let my mind go there.
“This room is really nice.”
He raised his brow. “Really? Then why do you look like you want to flee?”
“It does make me a little nervous being in your room.”
“Do you want me to take you home?”
“No.”
“Okay.” He sat down next to me, leaving only a few inches between us. My body tensed up in an effort to fight my attraction to him.
He touched his index finger to a spot on my lower neck, sending chills down my spine. “What happened to the little mole that used to be there?”
“I got it removed years ago. I was afraid it was cancer. It wasn’t. You know how paranoid I can get about things. I’m surprised you even remember that I had it.”
He was looking into my eyes for a while before he said, “I remember everything, Frankie. I remember that you were wearing a Punky Brewster T-shirt the day we first met. I remember the way your hair always smelled. I fucking use the same shampoo—Finesse—just so I can smell you every day. Smelled every bottle in the store until I could remember which brand it was. I remember the last show we ever watched together—a rerun of Friends, the one where Phoebe found a human thumb floating around in her can of soda. You were laughing at the show, and I was just staring at you, wondering how the hell I was going to deal with not seeing you for an entire summer. I remember the way the sun caught the red in your hair at that outdoor bar during our last day together. And I’ll never forget the look of sadness on your face when you knew I was leaving Boston and not coming back. I remember everything, and depending on the day, that’s either a curse or a blessing.”
My heart felt like it was ready to explode.
He placed his hand on mine. “I remember it all—the good and the bad—and I wouldn’t trade any of it.” Looking down at our fingers now wrapped together, he asked, “Is this okay? My holding your hand?”
Touching him felt really good. Even though it should have seemed like an innocent gesture, the contact was disconcertingly arousing.
I answered, “Yes.”
We were quiet for a long while until he said, “No matter what happens, all of those memories will stay with me until the day I die. But I’d prefer to make new ones. It’s fucked-up, but I didn’t think I could want you more than I did back then. But now that you’re with someone else, now that I may lose you a second time—forever—it’s a whole different level of wanting you.”
I broke the contact of our hands, stood up, and walked over to the window. It was foggy, preventing me from seeing outside.
“Before he left, Victor said he wants to marry me,” I suddenly blurted out. “And have kids. He’d never said those words before, but I think he feels threatened by you.”
“He does, does he? Are his feelings warranted?”
Did Victor have a reason to worry? The way my heart was beating, the fact that my panties were wet from the mere touch of Mack’s hand, meant that Victor had every reason to worry. I still reacted to Mack the same way I had eight years ago. Nothing in that respect had changed. Every part of me that wasn’t logical wanted Mack and only Mack. But this wasn’t just a decision for my body and heart. My mind kept reminding me that there was a child and
a bitter ex involved. Not to mention the fear that went along with giving someone a second chance when they’d already broken your heart.
But I answered him truthfully, “His feelings are warranted, yes. But I’m very confused.”
He got up and walked slowly toward me. “It’s weird how the roles have reversed. I used to want to be with you but stopped what felt natural because I didn’t want to hurt Torrie. Nothing and no one is holding me back now. I don’t care about him, but I respect that you do, because I care about you. I can relate to what you’re going through. I’ll do whatever you truly want. Your happiness is all that matters. You’re holding all the cards, Frankie—every single, last one of them. But just be aware that I have no issue with showing you exactly how much I want you right now.” He moved in closer, to the point where I could feel the heat from his body. “The next time you ask me to kiss you, I’m going to fucking kiss you.” He pointed to the bed. “In fact, I’d love nothing more than to be making your eyes roll back right now.”
I let out a slight audible gasp. The muscles between my legs instinctively tightened.
“Well, you said you weren’t gonna hold back. I guess you weren’t kidding.”
“I’m not gonna pretend, no. I’m not gonna lie to you about my feelings. I’m not going to hide the fact that I want to make love to you more than anything.”
His phone vibrated, disrupting the tension.
He looked down. “Shit. It’s Torrie. I’d better take this in case it has to do with Jonah.”
“No problem.”
I listened as he spoke to her. His ex’s calling in the middle of our moment was a timely reminder that being with Mack would always mean having to deal with Torrie being in the picture.
He put the phone back in his pocket. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. It had nothing to do with Jonah. She wanted to confirm what time the winter festival was this weekend.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “She’s gonna be there?”
“Yeah. She wants to go, apparently.”
I tried to make light of it. “Well, that’s one sure dunk in the tank for you.”
He chuckled. “You can bet on that.”
Mack Daddy Page 14