Mac
HC Heroes Series/ Book 1
A Harland County Spinoff Series
by Donna Michaels
NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author
Mac
SC Heroes Series/Book 1
Copyright © 2019 Donna Michaels
Cover Art by Donna Michaels © 2019
Excerpt from SEAL in Charge Copyright © 2019 Donna Michaels
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author—except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the web. For information, please contact the author via email at [email protected]
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Mac (HC Heroes Series, #1)
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter One-SEAL in Charge
About this Book
She’s too sassy...he’s too alpha...but sometimes, fate provides what you need not what you want.
Awarded a medal for a mission that almost turned disastrous by betrayal, Levi “Mac” McCall leaves Delta Force and his poor judgement behind. Determined to move on, he gives 110% to his new investigation company...except whenever his brother’s sexy sister-in-law is near. The sassy woman followed him from central Texas and is a distraction Mac doesn’t want. So why the hell can’t he get the hot kiss they shared out of his head?
Stefanie Davis did NOT follow that stubborn wall of muscles to Harland County. She relocated because of work, and thanks to endorsements from his father and his cousin, she has enough clientele to open her own graphic arts business. Too bad it’s near the sexy as hell security expert whose kiss is as amazing as it is dangerous...to her own good.
Before long, their off-the-charts chemistry leads to more embraces than arguments and has Mac considering a new mission: Prove to Stefanie that sass and alpha are a perfect match.
Thanks for reading,
~Donna
www.donnamichaelsauthor.com
Author’s Note
Visit www.donnamichaelsuathor.com for more titles and release dates.
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Dedication
A huge thank you to all the amazing readers for requesting MAC’s story and for their patience while I prepared his book to launch this new series!
♥
Chapter One
If Levi “Mac” McCall had any sense, the next time his dad asked him to guide a bunch of overindulged executives on a weekend survival course in the Texas Hill Country, he’d say, “No.”
Hell, no.
His older twin brothers lived in Hill Country. That was their domain. And their job...sort of. Logan and Lincoln worked for the family business—a national chain of sporting goods stores.
Not Mac.
He was in the process of opening his own company—Eagle Security & Investigations—in Harland County, near the Texas Gulf. These impromptu family favors were starting to interfere with his agenda.
“Thanks for filling in for me,” Logan said through the phone Mac had set to speaker before placing it on the dryer in his laundry room. “I hear you had to fish one of the suits from the river.”
Mac dropped his gear on the floor and snorted. “Try two. He took his buddy over the side of the damn raft with him this morning.”
A deep chuckle filled the room. “Oh, man, I hate when that happens.”
And he hated when he had to take the place of one of his brothers on these ridiculous weekends. Thankfully, his dad didn’t offer these outings to his staff too often, it just sucked that neither of his siblings had been available to play guide this time.
Grunting, he pulled off his boots before stripping out of his still-damp clothes. At least the seat of his chopper had a cover, or it would’ve been soaked by the time he’d flown home.
A large slab of concrete and the hangar he’d built away from the livestock on his property housed his newly acquired baby—courtesy of his dwindling savings. Of course, the helicopter and his pilot’s license gave Mac even less of an excuse to help his family out on short notice—which his father knew—hence, the call last Thursday.
“Good thing they had the best of the best guiding them,” Logan said, a measure of pride mixed with a trace of amusement in his tone.
“Nothing you couldn’t have handled.”
In fact, both of his older siblings were more than capable in those situations. The twins were in the Army National Guard and often state-activated during floods and storms. Once upon a time, Logan had even rescued his future wife and her sister without knowing it. Over a decade later, the two had met up again, fell in love, got married, and were now expecting their first child in a few weeks.
He was going to be an uncle...
A smile tugged Mac’s lips. It was nice to see the sweeter side of fate. God knew, Mac had seen enough of the darker side to last ten lifetimes.
“Yeah, but I hear they were really impressed to be led by ‘an honest to goodness, Bronze Star awarded, Delta Force hero,’ as they put it,” his brother said, emphasizing their words.
Christ.
Mac’s stomach rolled, and his skin itched. He hated that reference and the mission that had earned him and the joint task force their medals two years ago. The others deserved it.
Not him.
Muttering a curse, he swiped his phone off the dryer and strode through his kitchen, down the hall to the en suite bathroom. “How the hell did they know about that?”
It certainly wasn’t something he talked about. Ever.
“Dad, of course,” Logan replied, unaware of the turmoil his words produced. “He’s damn proud of you, Mac. We all are.”
With his stomach rolling again, he halted in front of the bathroom vanity to set his phone by the sink. Proud? Ah, hell. He gripped the edge of the counter while bile burned a well-worn path up his throat.
If they only knew...
The man staring back at him in the mirror was not the same idealistic one who once wore the uniform with pride, and carried out missions as if he were invincible.
A lesson he’d learned the hard way.
Taking in the lines on his face, the jagged scar on his left temple, and disillusionment in his eyes, Mac grimaced at his reflection. He and that indomitable presumption were so fucking flawed.
Images from that fateful mission of bodies and buildings blown apart, and businesses and homes engulfed in flames, spiraled through his mind.
Thank Christ he hadn’t gotten the team killed.
He flipped on the faucet and scrubbed his face, hoping to wash it all away. But the unwanted memories were ingrained too deep. He could still smell the sickening stench of flesh and rubber burning and hear the wails and screams of the innocent. They’d never leave him.
He didn’t want them to. They were his penance. The priva
te hell he deserved.
All because he’d fallen for a woman.
Swallowing a curse, he turned off the faucet, yanked the towel from the hook on the wall, and wiped his face. Never again. Twice he’d opened his heart, and both times he’d been betrayed. The first had been a cheerleader in high school, who’d two-timed him with the captain of the wrestling team. He’d come out with a bruised ego and a battered heart.
The second had almost extracted too high a price.
The team.
They, of course, insisted he wasn’t to blame. The sexy CIA agent had fooled them all. But he should’ve fucking known better. Should’ve sensed the betrayal. Should’ve—
“Yo, earth to Mac? You still there, Bro?” Logan’s amused tone drifted through the phone and yanked him out of his dark thoughts.
“Yeah,” he said with a shake of his head.
“Good, because Chloe made me promise to thank you for freeing me up to take her away this past weekend. It was our last trip together before the baby arrives.”
A smile returned to twitch his lips. “I take it she had a good birthday?” He liked Chloe. The sweet, albeit clumsy woman was good for his brother.
Logan had seen his share of gold-diggers and had a hard time trusting, too, but the lucky bastard had found a gem in Chloe.
Mac’s judgment sucked when choosing his own mate, but he was spot-on when sizing up other people. It had saved his ass on more than one occasion—even that last disaster.
Barely.
“Yes. I made sure of it.” The innuendo in his brother’s tone wasn’t lost on him.
He rolled his eyes at his reflection and tossed the towel on the counter. “Spare me the details. I’m just glad my weekend of hell wasn’t for nothing, and that my sister-in-law is happy. That means my niece she’s carrying is happy, too.”
His parents were certainly overjoyed and impatiently awaiting the little princess’ imminent arrival. In fact, he’d never seen his mother so excited. She’d converted one of the bedrooms into a nursery in the house where he’d grown up for when her granddaughter visited Austin.
Yeah, that little girl wasn’t going to be spoiled.
Only a lot.
Logan chuckled. “Not sure it works that way. But...speaking of sisters-in-law...how’s Stephanie?”
Mac’s pulse rate ignored his order to beat normally and leapt at the mention of Chloe’s sister’s name. The cute, sassy, pain-in-his-ass always got a rise out of him. And it pissed him off. “I wouldn’t know,” he replied.
“Didn’t she lease a shop near your new office?”
He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. How the hell did they get on this subject? “Yeah, but we don’t really cross paths.”
Especially since he knew how she felt in his arms—all soft and curvy and warm—and how she tasted—like juicy strawberries...sweet and tart at the same time. All thanks to a hot-as-hell kiss they’d shared under the mistletoe at his uncle’s Christmas party three months ago.
He opened his eyes, as if that would dispel the memory.
It didn’t. Nothing did.
“Well, don’t tell Chloe,” Logan said. “She’s under the impression the two of you run in the same circles down there.”
Not if he could help it. The sassy woman rubbed him the wrong way, but damn, there were times, in a moment or two of weakness, where he’d fantasized about the pretty brunette with the mesmerizing, aqua-colored eyes rubbing him the right way.
“Well, I’ll let you go, Bro,” Logan said. “I just called to thank you for this weekend and to make sure we didn’t make you miss your meeting. I think you found the right business path.”
Meeting...
Shit. He glanced at the time on his phone. He had less than an hour to grab his shower and meet up with his two employees at the office to get ready for their mid-day video conference with a potential client in Houston. His cousin, Cole, had hooked him up, and he didn’t want to blow it. Especially since it appeared to be a simple case of providing security for his cousin’s business associates from Tokyo. Mac’s ability to speak Japanese would hopefully secure the job. It could also cost him the job if he didn’t arrive on time, since neither of his two buddies spoke the language.
“...if you could manage to keep an eye on Stefanie, I’d appreciate it,” Logan said, regaining his attention. “Chloe told me she’s comforted to know you’re around to look out for her younger sister. Especially since she’d always thought they’d open a graphics arts shop together, not separate ones in separate towns. Stef’s all alone. They don’t have any other family. We’re their family now, so I’d appreciate if you’d do me a solid and look out for her.”
Look out for Stefanie?
Yeah, sure, he kept an eye out for her all the time—so he could run the other way.
He made a non-committal comment and ended the call.
She was more than capable of looking out for herself. No way would she welcome his help. The tall brunette with the lush body had a little too much spirit behind her smart mouth.
Too much spirit was his Achilles heel. It’d lured him twice and burned him twice. He knew the signs now. Knew the type of woman to stay away from...and Stefanie Davis was exactly that type.
So why the hell couldn’t he get her damn kiss out of his head?
***
Stefanie Davis was on a mission.
A mission to hunt down and recover her self-control...right after the two hotties stopped beating the crap out of each other while they worked out in plain view of the office window in the back of her shop.
Meow.
The craggily cry of her seventeen-year-old cat, Reggie, caught her attention. She glanced down to find him sitting expectantly in front of the couch she’d added to the room for his afternoon naps. Arthritis took away his ability to jump up on his own, and rather than see him struggle to pull himself onto the cushions, she’d gotten into the habit of helping him.
The smarty pants knew to just meow and wait now, because she’d pick him up.
He had her well-trained.
The bugger.
“Up you go, Big Guy.” Smiling, Stefanie lifted the large, red tabby/Maine coon mix and set him on his favorite blanket covering the corner of the couch. He was the last gift she and her sister had received from their father seventeen years ago, before he’d deployed and never returned. He was a great cat, and the last link to her dad. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for Reggie...and the stinker knew it, too.
She scratched him on his upper back, knowing he approved by the deep rumble in his chest and the way he flexed his massive paws. Only when he yawned and closed his eyes, did she release him to stand and work out the kinks.
Her gaze was eye-level with the photo of the Grand Canyon, centered above the couch. That addition was for her. A reminder of a camping trip she had yet to take.
Someday.
With a sigh, she returned to the window to continue to watch the two hotties.
They were good. Definitely well-trained, too—only not by Reggie. She grinned at her inner joke while her gaze remained on their sparring. As a student of tai chi since her college days, she appreciated the men’s agility and their movements. As a red-blooded woman, she appreciated their forms, grateful for the public show.
Okay, technically, they were in the back of their building across the alley from her shop and not outside in public. But the bay door to their attached garage was open, and she had one hell of a clear line of sight to some incredible moves, lots of muscle, and...abs. Those two had abs for days.
All three men who worked at the security company were ripped and oozed enough testosterone to bottle their own brand of cologne. But she didn’t like to think about the third guy. The owner. Her sister’s brother-in-law. Mr. Arrogance-in-spades, with eyes the color of top-shelf bourbon, strong, sexy jaw, and sarcastic mouth, normally pressed in a cynical twist—except for the time he’d kissed her stupid.
She put that particular episode out of
her mind.
Mostly.
Despite what the jerk thought, she hadn’t followed him to Harland County. She came because his uncle told her the area needed a graphic artist, and because his cousin hired her to do a big campaign for his computer software company. Sure enough, that campaign landed her several more accounts in the area, so after a few months of working out of the cottage she rented, Stef consulted her business partner, her sister Chloe, about something more permanent.
They’d always planned to open a brick and mortar shop together, and did, up near Comfort, Texas, where her sister lived with her husband. But Stefanie had gone and fallen in love with south Texas, so they decided she should open another location.
Besides, Chloe was pregnant and would soon have her own family to worry about. She didn’t want her sister to feel responsible for her, too. This was the best time to strike out on her own. She was excited about her new journey.
Yeah, it’d be nice to have family nearby, but she was used to being alone...of counting on herself. She and Chloe hadn’t lived together since her sister had graduated high school a year ahead of her and left for college.
She sighed, her breath fogging the window as a thought occurred. With the exception of her sister, she’d been without a family longer than when she’d had one. She absently rubbed her chest at the flicker of pain underneath. Her parents were dead, and her stepmother had been nothing but a mooch since the day her dad had married the witch.
“It’s not fair,” Mel Richardson said, and Stefanie turned to watch the woman waltz into the room, managing to carry three to-go cups of coffee without dropping one. Her head shook and wavy auburn hair bounced on her shoulders while her gaze strayed to the sparing men. “Why couldn’t I have leased this spot before you? It comes with a gorgeous side view.”
Her new friend and business neighbor had opened a tattoo parlor in the adjacent shop in the quaint, four-storefront strip mall built in the late ‘70s. “Melancholy Ink” had only opened two weeks ago, but word-of-mouth was already spreading, and with the summer months around the corner, the place was going to be popular with the tourists and locals alike. Hopefully, a few would trickle into Stefanie’s shop, “Graphic Images,” to purchase some postcards or print out photos.
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