“Good. I’m glad.” Heat and regret were still visible in his gaze as he lifted a hand to touch her, then pulled back, his expression turning unreadable. “I should go.”
She drew in a steadying breath while relief and disappointment rushed through her at the same time. “Yeah, me, too.” Before she did something stupid...like give in to the urge to lift her hand and touch his skin to see if he felt as hot and hard as he looked. “I’m supposed to get the pizza,” she added inanely. “I’ll see you Sunday at the birthday party.”
He lifted a brow. “Heard it was moved to the Pub.”
Texas Republic—Pub for short—was a popular bar and grille down the street. Owned and operated by Mr. McCall’s daughters-in-law, the place was known for amazing food and stellar entertainment. There was also had an apartment above it, which Abby had recently rented.
“Your uncle thought it would work better to surprise your aunt,” she said.
“Good call on his part.” He nodded. “Enjoy your pizza tonight.” He gave her another quick nod, then left.
Her body was pissed that she’d blown the opportunity to touch that gorgeous, bronze skin of his, but her mind was pleased she’d resisted the temptation. The man made her nuts.
An hour later, she was still thinking about it while relaxing with her friends in the open concept kitchen/living room in her little cottage. Mel chilled out on the recliner, while she sat on the couch between Abby and Reggie—who was passed out, using his mouse as a pillow. Season Two of The Punisher was on TV, but her mind kept drifting back to Mac.
She couldn’t believe what he’d just done for her...and her cat.
“I mean, who does that?”
“Who does what?” Abby asked, making her realize she’d spoken out loud. “You mean the show? Only a very capable, hot, determined man.”
True, but she wasn’t talking about the show. Still, her friend’s reply aptly described Mac, too.
“Everything all right, Stef?” Mel frowned. “You seem like you keep zoning out.”
Abby nodded. “Yeah, you’ve been holding that slice for five minutes now and haven’t taken a bite.”
She blinked and glanced at the untouched pizza in her hand. Damn. It was true. She took a bite and silently chided her stupidity.
“See? Zoned out,” Mel said, reaching for another slice. “What gives?”
She sighed. “I saw Mac today.”
Mel jerked her head back from the pizza she was about to bite. “What? When?”
Stefanie finished her slice and washed it down with a healthy sip of her margarita. “Right before I left the shop tonight.”
“You saw him post incident?” Abby’s gaze widened. Both of her friends were aware of the penthouse thing...well, not the kiss. “Did he grovel?”
Mel frowned. “I hope you gave him a piece of your mind.”
Abby turned to face her on the couch, concern clouding her gaze. “What happened?”
Stefanie lifted a shoulder. “He apologized again.” She didn’t bother to tell them it was three times.
Mel snorted. “I should hope so.”
“What else did he do that’s got you so zoned out?” Abby prompted, devilish grin tugging her lips.
“Nothing like that.” She set her drink on the coffee table and sat back. “He got me a job with Mr. Nakamori.”
Abby gasped. “What? That’s wonderful! Carter said the man owns several companies and is big in the gaming community.”
She nodded and reiterated what Mac had told her. “And if things go well, Mr. Nakamori will recommend me to some of his associates, too.”
“Wow.” Mel raised her brows and whistled. “That is good.”
“He also offered to translate if I need it.” She was still processing, trying to pick things apart to figure out if he had a motive, or was just being nice.
Damn, Craig had done a number on her. It got so that she questioned the motives of a lot of people. Even her friends. She reached for her glass and sipped more margarita.
Being jaded sucked.
Abby smiled. “Awe, that was sweet of him, but I’m not surprised. Mac is a helpful person. And he always has your back. Like my brother. Actually, all the guys are like that.”
Stefanie wasn’t sure if the sound coming from Mel was a snort or a scoff. Either way, it was followed by a mumble about Carter.
Something the redhead did often when it came to Abby’s brother. Stefanie hid a smile. She knew the signs.
“Well, that explained your zoning-out moments,” Mel said, settling back in the chair. “I thought perhaps you were hitting the catnip, like Reggie. Is that a new catnip toy? I don’t remember seeing it.”
She shrugged, setting her glass back on the table. “Mac gave it to him.”
“Mac?” Mel reeled back. “When? Today?”
Abby’s brows lifted. “Mac gave your cat a toy?”
She nodded, noting how both her friends stilled then shared a glance before staring at her. “What? Is that bad? Should I not have let him?”
It hadn’t seemed like a bad thing.
“No, it’s okay.” A smile curved Abby’s lips. “You know what this means, though, don’t you?”
She slowly shook her head. “No.” She glanced from Abby to Mel, finding the redhead sporting a similar grin, and her pulse increased. “What?”
“It means he likes you,” Abby answered.
Stefanie turned to the woman and laughed. “He has to. His brother is married to my sister and we’re about to have a niece together.”
The women knew this already but apparently, it needed repeating.
“Nope,” Mel said, and Stefanie transferred her gaze to see the redhead’s grin widen. “Abby didn’t mean like a sister through marriage. Mac likes you likes you, Stef. And I agree.”
Her pulse leapt. Mac liked her? She knew he was attracted to her. Hell, she could tell that by the way he kissed her with a hunger that had curled her toes. But what they were claiming was much different.
“Yeah.” Abby leaned toward the coffee table to grab another slice of pizza from the box. “A man would not bring a cat a toy as a peace offering for its owner if he didn’t have a serious thing for that owner. Other men who just wanted to sleep with you would lavish you with gifts—material things—things that had worked on other women in his past. Not something specific for you. Those men wouldn’t put thought into it. They wouldn’t try to figure out what would make you happy.”
After their first year together, Craig stopped doting on her, and it wasn’t until after breaking up with him that she realized he’d only gotten her flowers on Valentine’s Day and her birthday to make himself look good because other women at the company received them at the office from their significant others.
Bastard.
Mel slapped her thigh. “Exactly.”
It took Stefanie a second to get her mind back on the conversation.
“And an alpha man, especially, wouldn’t put the thought into it if he didn’t like the woman,” Mel said. “And Mac is certainly alpha.”
“And he likes you,” Abby said again, grin still apparent, even when she bit into her pizza.
What they were suggesting was dangerous. It meant he’d felt more than lust for her...that his heart was involved. Which was silly. Mac didn’t really do feelings, at least, not for the nearly two years she’d known him.
And especially toward her.
***
Sunday afternoon, at the request of his uncle, Mac arrived early at the Pub to help with the decorations, and the instant he walked inside he was glad he was there and grateful as hell for his eyesight.
In front of him on a ladder, stood the woman who’d haunted his fantasies, reaching high to secure the banner he’d delivered to her the other day. The action hiked up her dress, giving him an eyeful of the back of her thighs, and his body instantly tightened. He glanced around, but no one was present to lend her a hand.
Damn. That wasn’t safe.
There
were cars out front but, he had to assume the others were in the kitchen, preparing the food, because it smelled amazing, and to prove this, his stomach growled in appreciation. He also appreciated the display of skin in front of him, but her movements made him nervous. And hot.
Whether she liked it or not, he was now her assistant.
He cleared his throat. “Need help?”
She startled and would’ve fallen if he hadn’t rushed forward to set a hand on her back to keep her steady. “Mac...you scared me.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to. Thought you heard the door open,” he said, ordering his body not to respond to her proximity. His groin stirred in blatant proof that he’d failed. It irritated him. “Why don’t you get down and let me do that for you?”
“I’m good, but thanks.”
She was killing him. The urge to move her out of the way and do it himself so his breathing would return to normal was strong, but he could tell by the slight hardening of her tone that she intended to finish her task and wouldn’t appreciate his interference.
So he glanced around, looking for something, anything that would take his mind off her rose-printed dress and the way it hugged her down to her waist then flared out over hips and stopped just above her knees. He couldn’t concentrate on anything with her long, supple legs in front of his face, tempting him to reach out and stroke her...with his tongue.
He swallowed—twice—and tried to count the roses in her dress, but it wasn’t working. “Stefanie,” he said in a voice that sounded rough even to his own ears. “Let me get one of my cousins from the kitchen and we’ll hang this. I don’t want you to get hurt. Hell, if Connor’s in there he won’t even need a damn ladder.”
The cowboy was six foot five easy—without the Stetson—so this was definitely a task made for him.
She chuckled and started to climb back down.
Thank Christ.
“No need to bother Connor,” she said. “I’m done.”
He removed his hand from her back but hovered close, just in case she slipped. The woman was completely unaware of the strong effect she had on him or the fact her sweet body in the simple but sexy dress made his teeth sweat.
Her feet finally touched the floor, and she turned to face him, amusement bright in her gaze. Damn, she was beautiful...and those eyes, God, if he let himself, he could get lost in them and never return—never want to return.
An unfamiliar ripple skittered through his chest, bringing with it a rush of warmth. Ah, hell, he knew what that meant...she had the power to affect his heart and was making him feel. That was bad. And dangerous. The last woman who made him feel almost killed him.
But it wasn’t lost on Mac that now that he could move away from Stefanie...it was the last thing he wanted to do.
She swallowed, and heat deepened the aqua of her eyes, removing all traces of amusement. “Mac, if you don’t stop looking at me like that I...” Her voice trailed off, and she drew in a breath but didn’t continue.
“What?” he asked, curious to hear her answer despite knowing it was dangerous. And he was even more intrigued at how the pulse at the base of her neck kicked up when he spoke. “What will you do?”
Chapter Six
“I-I might get the impression you like me,” she replied with a breathlessness he liked.
A lot.
Mac lifted a hand to lightly run a finger down Stefanie’s cheek. “I got the same impression,” he said, and the truth of that statement hit him full force to his solar plexus.
Somehow, over the past few months, his disdain for the outspoken woman had turned to respect and a healthy dose of “like.” He suspected his eye-opening had started under the mistletoe in December when her kiss had knocked him on his ass.
Better than a two-by-four to the head.
“Then we have a problem,” she said, shifting closer. “Because I’m having the same issue.”
Her admission interrupted his pulse.
“Yeah?” He lifted a brow, and enjoying the feel of her warm, soft skin under his finger, he trailed his touch down to her mouth and softly brushed her lower lip. “I’m pretty good at solving issues.”
She smiled under his touch. “I’ve noticed that about you.”
He’d noticed a few things about her, too. Like the reason she was sassy. He was starting to realize it was a defense mechanism. She used this delectable mouth he caressed—this smart-mouth—to keep people at arm’s length, which meant he’d been wrong about her.
Stefanie wasn’t obnoxious. She was hiding pain and trying like hell to keep more from reaching her heart. That fucking broke his and pissed him off.
Another thing that pissed him off was his lack of restraint when it came to her. Even though he was certain someone would either walk in from outside or the kitchen and catch them, Mac lowered his mouth to hers, unable to resist the pull any longer.
But at the sound of the kitchen door opening she jerked back and turned toward the table where more decorations sat. Thank God one of them had some sense...and it apparently wasn’t him.
Two hours later, with the party in full swing, and everyone’s stomachs full of Connor’s wife’s cooking, Mac stood by the bar and enjoyed a beer with both of his cousins.
“I can’t believe your dad hired a live band,” he said, his gaze straying to Stefanie kicking it up on the dance floor with some of the other guests.
Cole chuckled. “You know my dad. He’s like yours. Goes all out for a party.”
Mac nodded. It was true, his father was notorious for throwing events everyone talked about for days. A flicker of regret squeezed his chest. Most of them he’d missed, because he’d put his country, his duty, before family. But that was the way it was supposed to be...and had to be. That wasn’t what he regretted, though. It was the lack of memories he had of the family get-togethers he’d missed.
Not anymore. He straightened his shoulders and enjoyed another sip of beer. The next party his father threw, Mac would attend.
Stefanie would probably be there, too. He watched her laughing and joking with the others while they danced and marveled at how her smile reached her eyes and drew him in all the way across the room. The crazy thing was she hadn’t even been looking at him.
“Ah...I’m sensing some serious chemistry bouncing off you two today,” Connor said, a lopsided grin on his face. “Good for you, Mac.”
“Yeah,” Cole said, cupping his shoulder. “I like Stefanie. And her sister, Chloe. They’re good people. They’ve been through a lot.”
He was about to ask his cousin to elaborate in case the guy knew something Mac didn’t, but the music tempo changed and so did his cousins’ attention.
“About time they played a slow song.” Cole straightened from the bar and smiled at his approaching wife. “I don’t really want her dancing to any fast songs—don’t tell her I said that—but a slow one? Oh, yeah, they’re good.” His cousin met up with his wife and hauled her in close, swaying with her in the middle of an aisle, not even on the dance floor.
Cole’s wife was the local sheriff, until her term ran out, and seven months pregnant with twins. Mac had known the woman since he was younger and used to come to Harland County when his family visited his uncle’s family. Jordan was always tough and feisty and as headstrong as they come, but with one glaring difference from the women Mac had an issue with—Jordan cared more about the well-being of others than she did of herself.
His gaze traveled back to Stefanie, and he admitted his perception of headstrong women needed revising. Not all of them were the same. No all of them were cold, heartless, bitches.
Some were sassy, but also compassionate and caring.
“Come on, Mac.” Connor propelled him forward with his shoulder. “I want to dance with my wife, too. And you should take advantage of the slow songs while you can. I remember the first stages of chemistry. Enjoy whatever one-on-one time you can get, because trust me, you’re going to screw something up. It’s in our DNA.”
He snor
ted. “Because we’re McCalls? Or because we’re men?” he asked, walking with his cousin toward the women leaving the dance floor, but he had no intention of dancing with Stefanie.
That was way too dangerous. He’d already experienced the fallout of her proximity today. It turned him stupid, removing his rational side.
Connor laughed. “Both. But we’re also fast learners, adaptable, and persistent, so you have a good shot.” He bent to pick up his little daughter, who ran toward them. “Let’s get Mommy.” His cousin walked over to his smiling wife and pulled her into his arms and danced with his family.
If someone would’ve told Mac ten years ago his wild cousin would have a wife and daughter and be the happiest he’d ever seen him, he would’ve called them crazy.
Must run in the family, because when he found himself standing face-to-face with Stefanie, he actually asked her to dance. And that was damn crazy. It would get back to his parents, and then his brothers, but at the moment, he didn’t care.
She hesitated a second. “You sure that’s a good idea? We’re surrounded by your family.”
There she went again, calling everyone his family, when she was now an extended part of the McCalls. He didn’t bother to correct her, since it would only raise her defenses and right now, he wanted to get to know the real Stefanie.
“No,” he replied with a grin. “But I like to live dangerously, and I get the impression you like to take risks.”
What the hell was wrong with him? She’d given him the perfect out.
“I used to,” she said, and his damn heart squeezed at the sadness he saw in her eyes. Then she lifted her chin and her gaze sparkled. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s dance.”
Smiling, he led her out onto the dance floor and pulled her close, but not as close as he’d like. He wasn’t that stupid. Crushing her curves against his body would test his control, and he’d rather not fight that battle in front of the family she was so quick to point out was his.
But by the time the second slow song started, he was enjoying the feel of her curves brushing his body as she set her head on his shoulder and sighed. Her warm breath hit his neck, and he held her closer, not caring about losing control. She felt too damn good in his arms, too perfect to worry about because the party was ending in ten minutes, and he wanted to enjoy this strange and unexpected peace that had come over him.
Mac (HC Heroes Series, #1) Page 6