Always Loving You

by Sydney Landon

  After a moment, he put his hands on her shoulders, and she groaned inwardly as she did a full-body shiver. Something about the feel of his warm hands on her bare skin was causing her pulse to rocket. The moment was broken, though, when he started mumbling under his breath before touching an area of her upper back that felt as if it were on fire. “Ouch!” Was he . . . ? Alarmed, she asked, “What are you doing with my bra?”

  With obvious strain in his voice, Mac said, “Relax, Avie; I need your bra strap out of the way. You’ve got a nasty laceration back here. The asphalt ripped a hole in your shirt. You must have hit the ground even harder than I thought. You’re damn lucky you didn’t break anything.” Suddenly, his face was back in front of hers, looking her face over anxiously. “I didn’t see you hit your head.” His hands started roaming over her scalp, looking for signs of injury. “Shit, tell me you didn’t. I can’t feel anything. If there is any possibility of a head injury, we need to go to a hospital and have it checked out. I should have checked for that before I moved you. I just . . . panicked.”

  Ava grabbed his forearm, pulling his hand back down. “Mac, my head is fine. I think most of the damage was to my butt and my pride.” When he looked down at her shorts, she knew what was coming next, and her cheeks were already coloring in response.

  “Er . . . take your shorts off, then. I need to see what we’re dealing with.”

  “No! I’m not taking my shorts off. I’m perfectly capable of looking at my own . . . butt later.” She might have caved to pressure to remove her top because truthfully the feel of the fabric against the scrapes on her back was painful. But there was no way she was removing her bottoms. She had worn her granny panties, and it’d be over her dead body that he would get a look at them. When she finally worked up the nerve to disrobe completely for Mac, she would be wearing something sexier than one hundred percent cotton. He looked ready to argue with her, so she shifted his attention back to her upper body by wincing and moving her shoulder. “Could you put a Band-Aid or something there? It hurts like the devil.” Now that she’d mentioned the pain, it seemed to be all around her. As her adrenaline dropped, her body started throbbing. Running into a parked car was damn painful. “Ouch!”

  “Hang on, baby; let me get you some Advil before we clean all your cuts.”

  Ava wanted to swoon when Mac called her baby. He had used the endearment a few times over the years, but that was twice already today. He mostly called her Avie, which had always made her feel special, but baby . . . yeah, she liked that a lot. Unless . . . did he call Gwen that? She looked down at the couch she was sitting on. Had Gwen been here with Mac? Had they held hands, touched each other, had sex together . . . right where she was sitting? The thought made her physically sick, and she wanted to do nothing but run. She didn’t want to be anywhere that another woman had staked a claim to the man Ava loved.

  Ava winced as she tried to move off the couch. Agony raced through her body as she leaned down to pick up her discarded shirt. She needed to get out of here . . . now. She was balancing unsteadily on her feet when Mac walked back in carrying a bottle and a glass of water. He looked surprised to see her standing there, with her shirt gripped tightly in one hand. “Mac . . . I’m just going to . . . I mean, I need to get back to my car.”

  He shook a couple of tablets from the bottle that he was carrying out before setting it down. He handed them to her along with the glass, waiting until she had taken them before commenting on her sudden need to leave. “Avie . . . sit down, please. I need to patch you up before I take you back.”

  She stood there uncertainly before asking, “Could we use a kitchen chair? I, um . . . just don’t want to sit back down on the couch.” No doubt, he thought she was cracking up, but after a moment’s hesitation, he walked toward his kitchen and returned seconds later with a wooden chair. She was so glad that he hadn’t questioned her aversion to his leather couch. What could she possibly say? “Oh, sorry. I’m afraid that you had sex with your girlfriend on it and the thought of sitting there makes me want to puke”? Nothing strange about that statement at all. Especially when she had handed him to Gwen on a shiny platter with a damn red bow attached to it.

  Mac picked up his first aid kit and started cleaning her abrasions with an antiseptic wipe that stung bad enough to bring tears to her eyes. Having his hands gently touching almost every exposed inch of her skin was torture for a different reason. She only hoped that he thought the few times that she hadn’t been able to stop herself from flinching was from the pain and not the foreign feeling of his warm hands touching her body. She both feared and craved his touch. How many nights had she lain awake wishing he were there, lying next to her? Wishing she were a normal person who could wake up in the arms of the man she loved—without remembering another man’s hands on her body, holding her immobile and stripping away her innocence? The one thing she had wanted to give Mac from the moment she had started to see him as something more than her brother’s friend. It was always supposed to be him and only him, and that had been brutally stolen from them both. They could never get that back, but if she continued on the path of avoidance that she had taken for so many years, then the bastard who had raped her was still ruining her life, and she didn’t want that. She wanted to be free. She wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by someone who cared about her. It had to be Mac, as it was always meant to be.

  “Avie . . . what’s going on with you? First, you go roaring off on the back of Dom’s bike, and next you’re flying down the streets of Garden City wrapping yourself around a car. This isn’t you; this isn’t the woman I know. I mean . . . is there something I need to know about you and Dom?”

  Ava held her breath, wondering if Mac was aware that he had stopped treating her injuries and was now stroking a fingertip along the sensitive skin of her arm, causing an involuntary shiver. If he noticed, he gave no indication. He continued to touch her while waiting for her answer.

  “Would it bother you?” she asked quietly. She knew it was juvenile to insinuate that there was something romantic between her and Dominic, but she wanted—no, she needed—Mac to care.

  Mac expelled a breath before his hand moved from her arm and glided up to her neck, lingering on the pulse beating wildly there. “You have no idea, Avie. He’s my brother, and I’d give him everything I have . . . but not you, baby. Never you. You. Belong. To. Me.”

  His hand rested against her neck, and their eyes locked. His expression was wild and fierce and for the first time she wasn’t scared. She wanted to taste his lips more than she wanted her next breath. Without allowing herself time to think, she raised her other hand, reaching up to pull his head lower. A hint of uncertainty flickered across his face just before their mouths connected and then her body sizzled with awareness of him. Unlike with their other kiss, Mac seemed to wait for her to take control, to deepen the contact. She tentatively touched her tongue along the seam of his lips, wanting to taste him. He groaned deep in his throat before opening his mouth and tangling his tongue with hers. In that moment, she understood for the first time where the inspiration for every romance novel and romantic movie came from. It was this . . . feeling as if you were on the verge of unlocking all the infinite secrets of the universe with just one kiss.

  Time seemed to stand still as she experienced her first real kiss as a grown woman. Mac had kissed her one other time, but her fear had kept her from truly getting lost in the moment. This time, she was more than a willing participant. She took the lead in kissing him. She explored every corner of his mouth, tasting coffee and the minty flavor of his toothpaste. As his hands threaded through her hair, pulling her closer, she felt a small trickle of unease. She reminded herself that this was Mac. He’d never hurt her, never force her. She murmured a protest when his lips left her mouth only to kiss down her jaw, then her neck. “Mac . . . oh, Mac . . . please . . .” Something was buzzing on the table beside them, cutting through the haze of desire she was in. Mac cursed under his breath before pulli
ng back. Almost in sync, they both looked over to see his phone lighting up and on the screen in bold letters it said CALL FROM GWEN.

  “Fuck,” Mac rasped out, reaching over to hit the IGNORE button on his phone. Ava guessed she should be grateful for that at least. After all, she was the other woman here, not Gwen. Even knowing that, she didn’t think she could handle hearing Mac talk to Gwen as if he hadn’t just had his lips all over Ava. By now, they were both breathing hard, trying to come down from the high they had just experienced. Ava’s face colored in embarrassment when Mac looked at her. Had she really just been sucking on his tongue? Part of her felt the need to yell, “You go, girl,” and part of her wanted to crawl under the chair she was sitting in. She had kissed Mac, and it had felt better than she could ever have imagined. She squeezed her legs together as her core ached for her to finish what she had started. Being reminded that Mac had another woman in his life, though, had ended her moment of boldness. “Avie . . .”

  Ava jumped to her feet, not wanting to answer all the questions that she saw on Mac’s face. She needed time to gather her thoughts and her courage before anything else happened between them, including a conversation. “Mac, I really need to get back to my car now. I, um . . . have plans soon, so I need to get home and change.”

  Mac put his hands on his hips, looking suspicious. “What kind of plans? They had better not involve a damn motorcycle or skates.”

  “Ur . . . no. I’m meeting Emma for lunch today.”

  “I thought Brant and Emma were visiting her parents this weekend.”

  God, was there nothing the man didn’t know? “I meant Ella. I’m meeting Ella. You know, last-minute baby things.”

  Looking skeptical, Mac asked, “What kind of baby things?”

  Suddenly, she remembered the conversation between Beth and Ella at lunch yesterday and blurted out, “Breast pumps.” Mac’s cheeks flushed, and if she hadn’t embarrassed herself as well, she’d probably have laughed. Apparently, mentioning anything to do with breast-feeding was the equivalent of discussing your period with men. They simply folded right in front of your eyes.

  “I . . . yeah . . . okay . . . sure, that’s good,” Mac stuttered as he dropped his gaze, shifting his feet on the floor restlessly. He gathered himself and walked over to help her when she struggled to pull the shirt back over her head. Ava limped back out to his Tahoe, and all too soon, he was pulling in next to her car.

  Turning to him, she said, “Thanks for taking care of me today.”

  He grabbed her wrist before she could open the door, halting her exit. “No more crazy stuff, right? You’re not the type of person to risk your neck like that.”

  Ava put her hand over his, saying simply, “Maybe I’ve changed, Mac. I need to take more risks now—I have to.”

  Clearly irritated and even more confused, Mac asked, “What could you possibly hope to gain from all this?”

  Pulling her arm from his hold, she opened the door of his vehicle. Before slipping out, she turned back to him, finally answering his question with one simple word—“You.”

  With that, she slammed the door behind her and hobbled back to her car. Mac was still sitting there staring at her when she drove away. She didn’t think he understood fully what she was trying to say, but between the kiss that she had initiated and her answer to his question, he was surely starting to realize that something had changed. She only hoped that she didn’t break a bone before she gained his full attention. She would be a good girl and not do anything crazy today as he had asked, but she wasn’t finished yet by a long shot. She had gotten under Mac’s skin more in the last twenty-four hours than she had in months . . . since Gwen came along, and she intended to keep going. Just maybe with a helmet and pads the next time.

  * * *

  Mac scowled as he watched Ava limp to her car and drive away. She had him reeling and he didn’t know whether to kiss her or spank some sense into her. Both options held strong appeal. He and Ava seemed to be on the same page with the kiss today . . . oh, fuck, the kiss. Ava finally laying her lips on his, taking the initiative. His cock had already been straining the zipper of his jeans ever since she had removed her shirt. The plain white bra she wore had somehow seemed sexier than every piece of lingerie that Victoria’s Secret had in their whole damn store. It was Ava to a tee. Innocent white cotton, but add in her full breasts straining against the cups, and it was enough to bring him to his knees. Truthfully, he had been grateful that she refused to remove her shorts. He wasn’t sure he could have held out with Ava in front of him in nothing but her panties. As it was, he’d taken a few deep breaths when he went to the kitchen for some Advil for her. He’d also adjusted his throbbing cock, trying to make his state of arousal a little less noticeable.

  Now he felt something he didn’t often feel—complete and utter confusion. If asked, he would have said that he knew Ava better than anyone else, including her family. He knew her favorite color, how she liked her coffee, how she loved watching reruns of the Golden Girls and, when she was feeling particularly daring, Sons of Anarchy. She always cried at every remotely emotional scene in a movie, even an action film. She was addicted to green apple Chap Stick, had a serious hang-up on buying shoes that she rarely ever wore, and sometimes she snored, even if she’d never admit it. He knew that from the many nights he had fallen asleep on her couch after watching a movie.

  “Oh, fuck,” he muttered, thinking back to her interest in Sons of Anarchy. Maybe she really was attracted to Dominic. Hell, he was probably the closest thing to a biker that she’d ever come across. However, if that was true, why had she kissed him as if she was starving for his taste? How far would things have gone if Gwen hadn’t called when she did?

  Oh, great, Gwen . . . truthfully, he’d been so caught up in Ava and Dom being together the night before that he had given little thought to the woman he was supposed to be dating. Moving on had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he had to wonder if he hadn’t just complicated an already impossible situation. Ava had been showing no signs of ever letting him out of the friend zone, and it had become more and more painful to pretend that he was content with that place in her life.

  If he was honest, maybe he thought it might shake her up to see him moving on, but that hadn’t appeared to happen. Sure, she seemed sad when he stopped spending so much time with her, but she didn’t show up at his house naked and professing her undying love. Instead she had given him looks around the office that had made him want to slink off while apologizing for being such a fucking prick to her. The fact of the matter was that time waits for no man, and he was getting older. Sure, he was only in his early thirties, but he was tired of spending his life alone. He fucked when he felt the need, but that was it. There was no one waiting for him at the end of the day, and it had gotten old. He could admit that he wanted a wife and a family sometime in the near future. He didn’t still want to be sitting around ten years from now hoping that Ava would let him love her.

  Yeah, it all sounded perfectly reasonable and rational. However, if that was true, why was he so conflicted about his master plan suddenly? Maybe the same reason he had yet to return Gwen’s call. As he pulled into the near-empty parking garage for Danvers and saw Dom pull up beside him, he gnashed his teeth. This wasn’t a good time to see his best friend. If Dom had any sense of self-preservation, he would crawl right back on his Harley and hit the road.

  Instead the bastard walked over to his door as he opened it, giving a lazy grin at Mac’s closed-off expression. “Morning, bro. Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  Mac looked into the other man’s eyes and tried to talk himself out of the unfamiliar feelings of jealousy coursing through his veins. This was Dominic, his brother. He’d never hit on Ava. He knew how Mac felt about her. “Morning,” he answered, trying his best to keep his tone light.

  “You’re here early,” Dominic said, looking down at his watch. “I thought you were having breakfast with your mom first.”

  “Yeah,
so did I. I ran into a little problem on the way and had to cancel.”

  “What kind of problem?” Dominic asked, looking curious. No doubt, he thought it was something to do with their business.

  Walking toward the doors of Danvers, Mac said, “Well, Ava decided to try some sidewalk skating and wrapped herself around the bumper of a parked car not far from my house. I saw the whole damn thing happen on my way.”

  Dominic looked surprised before bursting into laughter. “Holy crap, that girl’s just not right, is she?” Before Mac could chew Dominic’s ass out for insulting Ava, even if what he said did appear to have some truth at the moment, Gage came swaggering across the lobby as they walked inside.

  “Good morning, ladies. You two need some extra beauty sleep this morning or something?”

  Mac grinned as Dominic flipped off their annoying coworker before he could work up the effort. Out of the three of them, Gage was probably the most laid-back. Their employees and every woman within a hundred-mile radius seemed to love his infectious personality. If there was ever any bad news to impart, Gage was nominated to do it. He could tell a woman her hair was flat, her shoes were ugly, and her butt was big and the woman would probably hug his neck and thank him. He was just that good.

  Dominic was more of an “it is what it is and fuck you if you don’t like it” kind of guy. And Mac was more of a details man. He liked making things work, making them better. His life mostly revolved around making the rules and seeing that they were enforced. After being in the military, he enjoyed structure and didn’t like it when things didn’t adhere to the norm. That was one reason that Ava’s sudden need to endanger herself doing something crazy was freaking him out. It was out of the normal for her, and he sure as hell didn’t understand it.