Taming Mack (Sinful Nights Book 3)

by Elizabeth Lennox

  It hadn’t been until she’d reached the sophisticated and confident age of six that he’d started tormenting her.

  Fifth and sixth grade had been lovely. Ryan had graduated from elementary school and gone off to the other building, which contained grades seven through twelve. Her mornings, afternoons, and recess periods had been blissfully free of spiders, snakes, worms, and tormenting. If they’d been a bit boring, if she sort of, kind of, maybe, perhaps missed the spark of excitement created whenever Ryan was around, she’d never admit that to anyone. Ever!

  But now, watching Ryan hurry to catch up with her, she tried not to melt into the locker that barely kept her on her feet. The one or two inch height advantage from first grade had expanded over the years and now he towered over her. At six feet, four inches, Ryan was more than eight inches taller than she was and she hated it! She also hated that she felt all hot and melty inside, even as she cringed, wondering what he wanted.

  “What do you want?” she asked warily.

  “I just wanted to talk to you,” he told her. Showing her his empty hands, he laughed as only a confident boy could. “I promise, no snakes or spiders or slugs this time.”

  Cynthia didn’t trust him. Not even a little. She’d done an excellent job of avoiding him now that they were both in high school, furtive glances in the hallways aside, but that was mostly because he had football practice most days and she helped her father out at the bar her family owned and ran.

  “Don’t you have practice?” she asked, turning and heading for the exit where the buses were waiting for students.

  He walked right beside her, his longer legs easily keeping up with her pace. “Canceled. Coach’s wife went into labor earlier today. Want a ride home?”

  A ride home? With Ryan? Did she look that stupid? “I’m fine. The bus will get me home.” She continued to walk towards the line of buses, trying to dismiss him.

  “I can get you home faster,” he promised, jogging ahead slightly so he could get in front of her.

  “No, thanks.”

  That’s when he whipped out the big guns and smiled down at her. That smile…darn it, he was good! “Aww, come on. You hate riding the bus. Everyone hates riding the bus. Why not let me give you a ride.”

  Impatiently, Cynthia frowned at his chin instead of his eyes. She knew better than to look him in the eye when he wanted something. His eyes were too…powerful. All the girls in school oohhd and aaahhed annoyingly about Ryan’s eyes, saying they like Clint Eastwood’s, but Ryan’s were better. Cynthia had looked up Clint Eastwood doubtfully, but once she’d looked into the man’s baby blues, she’d conceded that Ryan had the same piercing eyes, which could easily glow with happiness or mischief, depending on what pranks he had up his sleeve.

  “Why would I get into a car with you?” she demanded, stepping around him and making a beeline for her bus.

  “Because the school bus takes twice as long. And we could maybe…”

  She froze, her fury building. Did he think she was stupid? She spun around and let him have it!

  “Look, for years, you’ve tormented and pestered me to the point of insanity, humiliated me in front of my friends, beaten me at whatever sport we played, and generally made my life hell. So no, I’m not getting into your car, because I don’t want to be dropped off on the side of the road and forced to walk home, or lose a tire, or be dumped in a place I don’t know, just to give you a chuckle! Thanks, but no way am I that stupid!”

  With that, she spun on her heel, heading towards the busses and freedom from Ryan’s presence. Darn it, even his shoulders were nice!

  He didn’t give up. “I promise, just a ride home.”

  “I said no! There’s nothing more to say!”

  Ryan caught up with her and touched her wrist gently. Cynthia cringed away warily.

  “I get it.”

  Ignore him, she told herself. Just keep walking and don’t look back!

  Darn it! Her feet slowed of their own accord. “What do you get?”

  He grinned and her stomach flipped over. Several times! Her knees wobbled slightly and her breath caught in her throat. No! She didn’t like him and she didn’t like what happened to her when he got close!

  “You’re afraid to be alone with me.” Shaking his head, he didn’t back up. “For years, I thought you were the bravest person around. You never shied away from taking me on, no matter what I did to you. I couldn’t even get a scream out of you when I put that frog in your sleeping bag on the school camping trip in third grade! Kudos, by the way,” his eyes sparkled with humor colored with admiration. “But I guess that courageous girl is gone.” He shook his head, feigning disappointment, and backed up. “Too bad. She was a real bad ass.”

  With that, he walked away, still shaking his head.

  Cynthia watched him go, furious all over again. Darn it! Why did he push her buttons so thoroughly? And calling her a bad ass…that was probably the best compliment anyone could give her. He knew it too. He knew it and was using her pride against her!

  No way would she ever admit that she’d been terrified of the frog in her sleeping bag. She’d never, ever, tell him that she’d stayed up all night, shuddering in horror at the worry that there was another one!

  “I’m an idiot!” she muttered, before sighing and following behind Ryan. “An absolute idiot!” She pulled out her cell phone to text her friend, who was already on the bus, letting her know what was going on.

  She didn’t say a word, even ignored his smug grin when she yanked open the passenger side door of his ancient, beat up, and filthy Jeep Wrangler. He slid into the driver’s seat without a word. But Cynthia paused for a moment, peering under the passenger seat, in the back seats, and even opened the glove compartment. Nothing jumped out, slithered, or hissed at her. Gingerly, she slid into the seat.

  Laughing, he shook his head and slid his key into the ignition. “See? Just a ride. Nothing scary.”

  She pulled the seatbelt into place, latching it gently, then tugged to make sure it was secure. He might decide to go off-roading and, since the doors to this stupid vehicle were rickety at best, she could fall out. Wouldn’t that be hilarious?!

  “How’s your algebra class going?” he asked, confidently steering through the curving mountain roads. Their high school serviced several towns because the population up here in the mountains was nowhere near as dense as down in the cities. “I heard you have Mr. Dean. He’s tough, but good.”

  She kept her eyes on the road, wondering if someone was going to jump out and scare her when he turned a corner.

  “Algebra is fine. He’s interesting.”

  Ryan chuckled and the sound pulled her attention back into the car. “I’ve never heard Mr. Dean called interesting before. But he is a good teacher. He helped me prepare for calculus, and I’m grateful to him.”

  “Right,” she muttered, still cringing slightly in anticipation for…whatever he had planned.

  He continued talking casually, asking about several of her classes, adding comments and gossip on the teachers too. But Cynthia couldn’t really respond with much depth because she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  So, when they pulled into the gravel parking lot of the bar her family owned, she jumped out, eager to get her feet onto the gravel of the parking lot. Gravel was much safer, in so many ways, than being in vehicle, next to Ryan.

  “See?” he pointed out teasingly before she shut the door. “Like I said, just a calm, easy ride home.”

  Cynthia blinked, not sure what to say. He was right. He’d driven her straight home and she was in one piece. And she’d arrived significantly ahead of the buses, more than twenty minutes ahead because the bus driver had to stop in three other towns before finally getting to Minneville.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled and hitched her backpack higher up on her shoulder.

  “See you tomorrow,” he called through the open passenger window as he drove away.

  Cynthia watched him go, not sure what
to think. Never before had he missed an opportunity to do something devious. It was like a competition between the two of them. He kept finding more creative ways to surprise her and she had to dig deeper to find the calm she needed to hide that he’d gotten to her. Then she had to find a way to get back at him. It was a point of honor, in a twisted, demented sort of way.

  Never mind that she felt more alive after an altercation with Ryan, which could be blamed on the adrenaline rush. Or that she felt a zing of excitement when he nodded acknowledgment of her expertise after she got back at him.

  Dismissing him from her mind, she walked into the bar. “Hey Dad,” she called out as she dumped her book bag on the countertop in the kitchen. The bar didn’t open for a few more hours, so the chairs were still on top of the small, wooden tables and the smell of cleaning products filled the air.

  Her dad peered out of the kitchen and smiled. “Hi there honey. You’re home early.”

  She grabbed an apron and put it on, preparing for her afternoon chores, and stored her backpack under the cabinet. “I got a ride home,” she replied vaguely. Too many of their family meals had been spent with Cynthia venting to her parents about whatever prank Ryan had pulled on her or regaling them with her retribution. No way could she now tell her father that Ryan had given her a ride home.

  “That’s good,” he smiled distractedly, obviously unconcerned. He pushed his glasses up higher onto his nose as he sifted through invoices for supplies.

  “Did you call in the order for more of that light beer everyone’s asking for? The case you got last week sold out pretty fast.”

  The defeated sigh told her that he’d forgotten to put in the order. Cynthia took pity on him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Dad. Just call it in so that we have more this weekend. There aren’t that many tourists during the weekdays, so we won’t really need it until Friday evening.”

  He nodded blankly, running his fingers through his hair. He was doing the monthly accounting, she realized. He hated anything associated with math. Fortunately, it was one of her favorite subjects and she enjoyed the challenge of getting the bar’s expenses into all of the right categories and summing up the profit and losses each month. Although, lately, there had been more losses than profits.

  “Want me to do that?” she offered. “I know that you hate doing the accounting. And I enjoy it.”

  He smiled at her over the rim of his glasses. “You sure you wouldn’t mind?” he asked.

  Cynthia laughed. “Dad, if I have to choose between cleaning the bathrooms or doing the accounting, I’ll take the accounting any day.”

  He stood up and dropped his pencil in relief. “You still have to clean the bathrooms, honey.” And he walked away.

  Cynthia made a face, but then sat down and started sorting the bills. There were more than usual this time, and she noticed that several of them were past due. She called up her father’s supplier and ordered the light beer, and then, because she knew what other customers had asked for, she ordered several other options. All were bottled beer, so they would keep for a while if the customers didn’t want them again. Then she logged into her father’s bank account and started setting up the payments for each of the bills. When she saw the amount left over, she cringed.

  “Dad, we’re really short this month. You have to stop giving away the beers to your friends.”

  He walked in and stored the broom away. “What’s the point of having a bar if your friends can’t have a few on the house, honey?”

  She groaned, knowing that her father’s group of friends continued to expand. Soon, the whole town would be in here drinking for free. She closed down the accounting system, and stored the laptop away. Her father had run this bar for a long time so he must know what he’s doing. Besides, her family always seemed to have the money for whatever they needed, although often not a lot left over.

  A few hours later, customers started to filter into the bar. The sun had set, an automatic ending point to any fishing or hiking expeditions, unless one had camping gear. After the tourists were done with their day’s adventures, most people wanted to relax and unwind, lie about the fish they’d caught, and laugh about the one that had gotten away.

  Cynthia quietly went upstairs to start her homework. Because she was under age, she wasn’t legally allowed to be in the bar during business hours, so she did her chores before they opened in the evening, and slipped away when customers started to arrive.

  Her family lived in the small, two-bedroom apartment above the bar. Over the years, Cynthia had learned to sleep through most of the noise. It wasn’t an especially rowdy bar, but occasionally, some of the customers got a bit…enthusiastic. Although, during the week, the customers were mostly locals. It was a bit louder on the weekends when the tourists came through, but it still wasn’t too bad.

  The apartment was relatively small, just two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a sitting room. But since it was just the three of them, the space wasn’t too tight. Besides, Cynthia had her own room and her own bathroom. What more could a teenage girl want?

  An image of Ryan popped into her head and Cynthia froze, horrified at where her mind had gone.

  Ryan? She didn’t want Ryan in her life other than to see him fall on his face in a pile of mud. Yeah, that’s a good image. But in her life romantically? No way!

  The following morning, Cynthia stepped out of the house, pulling up the zipper on her sweatshirt. September in the mountains gave the residents chilly nights and mornings, but the sun would warm up by the afternoon, reaching around seventy something degrees. Unlike the winters, which were nearly overwhelming because of the snow and bitter cold. There had been years the small mountain towns were covered in snow almost continually for six or seven months at a time.

  But the crisp bite in the air wasn’t what startled Cynthia. It was the muddy Jeep idling at the end of the steps to her parents’ place. Ryan?

  “Come on, lazy bones!”

  Cynthia peered suspiciously into the vehicle. “What are you doing here?” she demanded irritably. No way would she tell anyone about the dream she’d had last night. The dream where Ryan took her into his arms and kissed her. A completely pointless dream because she’d be a fool to ever let Ryan get that close to her. He’d just stuff something gross down the back of her shirt. Ick!

  “I’m here to drive you to school.” He announced cheerfully and winked at her. “Unless you want to wait for the bus that sometimes shows up either in five minutes or fifteen.” He blew his breath through rounded lips, creating a cloud. “It’s pretty cold out.” He waved her into the car. “Come on. I know how you hate to be cold and I have the heater going.”

  Cynthia frowned, wondering what slithering reptile would pop out to scare her.

  But he only waved again and Cynthia gingerly opened the door. Looking around, she slipped inside. The Jeep really was cranking out the heat and it immediately dissipated the chill.

  “Here,” he handed her a metal travel mug. “Coffee with a bit of cream and sugar. Just the way you like it.”

  She took it and held the mug away from her body. “What’s going to jump out at me?” she asked.

  He chuckled and put the Jeep into gear. “Nothing. I just thought you might like some coffee.”

  She didn’t buy it. “Is there a bug at the bottom?”

  Ryan shook his head. “Only coffee, cream, and sugar.”

  Cynthia eyed the metal mug, then him. He looked hopeful and…something else. On anyone else, she might have thought he was nervous. But this was Ryan. Ryan was never nervous about anything.

  Playing along, because she didn’t want him to challenge her like he’d done yesterday after school, she lifted the mug to her lips and pretended to take a sip. “Mmm… good. Thanks.”

  He grinned, looking a bit more…relaxed? He turned onto the main road, heading to school. He talked about his classes and complained about his homework. Meanwhile, Cynthia watched his hands, which alternately gripped the wheel and fle
w through the air as he gestured. They were nice hands, she reflected. Long fingers. His nails were clean and neatly trimmed. Most local boys were out in the mountains so often that they constantly had the dirt under their nails. Ryan’s had no dirt at all.

  And his forearms were…strong? Were those muscles hiding under the sleeves that were only partly rolled up? He had on a blue flannel shirt with a fleece vest, which matched his dark blond hair.

  “You okay?” he asked, interrupting her perusal of his arms.

  Cynthia jerked her eyes upwards. “Huh?”

  He pulled into the school parking lot. “You were staring,” he pulled into his assigned parking space.

  “I wasn’t,” she huffed as she reached for the door handle. He stopped her with a touch to her arm. “Hey, would you let me drive you home again this afternoon?”

  Cynthia wasn’t sure what was going on. Deciding to be direct, she shifted slightly, turning to face him so she could see his eyes. “Don’t you have football practice?”

  He smiled slightly. “Coach will want to be home with his new baby.”

  She frowned, still concerned. “Yeah, but why me?”

  He shrugged slightly. “We’ve always been at odds, Cyn. And I think it’s time to change that. Don’t you?”

  Cynthia agreed, but she still didn’t trust him. “Perhaps, but I don’t think it’s possible. Not with our history.”

  He thought about that for a second, still watching her with that oddly hopeful look in his startling blue eyes. “Can we try?”

  She hesitated for another moment, wondering if maybe she could trust him. Was she stupid to even want to? Yes. But, just maybe…

  “Fine. We can be friends. But....”

  He grinned, holding up his hands. “I swear to you that I’m done with the pranks. I’m done with all of it. And…you’re really good with writing, aren’t you?”

  She shrugged, not sure what to say. “I’m okay,” she finally replied. A couple of her friends were standing on the sidewalk, waiting for her. They’d noticed her in the Jeep with Ryan. Cynthia sighed, knowing that she’d have to answer roughly a hundred questions.