She’d insisted Dex come back to Quinn’s with them and, while the animal studiously ignored him, it was quick to position itself between him and Mackenzie at every opportunity.
The afternoon had darkened with an incoming storm, and what could’ve been a cozy situation instead became Dex working his way between their bodies until his face—complete with lolling tongue—was on Mackenzie’s lap, and his ass was pointed at Jake.
I’m being cockblocked by a damn dog.
After a late lunch, Mac had decided they’d earned a spot of day drinking, and when he’d seen Quinn’s impressive whiskey collection, he’d been inclined to agree. Not knowing what was happening in the Safe Zone was bugging him more than he’d like to admit, and he was hoping the alcohol would take the edge off.
“What’s up?” Mackenzie asked, rubbing Dex’s ears. “You’ve gone quiet.”
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“It’s maddening that we’re so close to home, but we’re not there. It’s like we’re in a vacuum out here. We have no idea what’s happening in Sanford, or out in the rest of the state. In the rest of the country.” Jake took a long swallow of the whiskey.
It had shaken him more than he cared to admit when he’d learned the military had bombed O’Hare. How was it that, in the space of a day, the situation went from presidential assurances the virus wasn’t a big deal to American citizens being killed by their own government?
And why had the roads been so empty? After the frenzy to leave Chicago, Jake had assumed the deluge of people would be clogging every main road. But aside from the crowds they’d witnessed at Essex Memorial, people had been few and far between.
Were they quarantining themselves in their homes?
Or were they dead?
“It kind of feels like we’re suspended in time here,” Mackenzie said. “Everything happened so fast, and now we’re just… sitting here.”
“It’s hard not knowing. And not doing anything.”
“You don’t like it when you’re not in control,” she observed.
“That’s not it. I don’t have to be in control all the time.”
“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. It’s just who you are. You’re confident and you take charge. You make me feel safe.” Mackenzie stared into her almost empty glass.
The rush of warmth Jake experienced had nothing to do with the whiskey and everything to do with her words. The fact she felt safe with him was everything. He wanted to beat on his chest in satisfaction.
“Don’t go getting all cocky.” She dislodged the dog, reached for the whiskey bottle, and refilled their glasses.
He knew he looked smug, and as her eyes narrowed on him, his shit-eating grin spread wider. “What else—”
“Shut it, Jake.”
They continued putting a dent in Quinn’s whiskey, reminiscing about their shared childhood and avoiding any more talk of the apparent apocalypse.
The dog, curled on the floor at Mackenzie’s feet, opened one eye when Mac took two attempts to place her glass on the coffee table, and Jake was suddenly aware that she was more than a little tipsy. He stood, holding out a hand to her.
“You okay?” She tipped her face up to look at him, her nose crinkling adorably.
“I’m fine.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re fine, but I’m actually not. I’m not fine at all. Want to know why I’m not fine, Jake?”
Pulling her to her feet, he pushed a curl behind her ear. “Why are you not fine, babe?”
“Because that. That right there. You call me babe, and you look at me, and you make me want things.”
The fact that Mackenzie had consumed her body weight in alcohol somewhat dampened the elation Jake had expected to sweep through him. When she stepped into him, pressing herself against his chest, he groaned.
“You are saying all the right things, baby girl, but you’ve also had way too much to drink.”
“Don’t drunks always tell the truth?” She smiled up at him, arching her back slightly and pushing her tits more firmly against him. Lust thumped low in his groin, warring with the indecision of how far he could let this go.
Taking matters into her own hands, she reached behind his neck and pulled his head down, the sweet scent of cinnamon clouding his already compromised judgment.
Common sense battled years, years, of wanting, but not having. Of denying how he truly felt. Of pretending the woman in front of him didn’t light up his world, give life meaning.
Going on tiptoes, Mackenzie kissed him.
There was nothing tentative about her exploration as she sucked on his lower lip and then bit gently, demanding entry. He groaned, and her tongue slipped inside to stroke against his.
Jesus Christ, he was kissing Mackenzie.
Cupping her head, he tilted it, slanting his mouth more firmly over hers and claimed her, his tongue thrusting as he took back control. Her soft mewl of pleasure—her unrestrained passion—had him desperate. He wanted more. He wanted everything. He deepened the kiss, recognizing that she tasted like his future.
They pulled apart, breathing heavily.
“My head is spinning,” she whispered, and the slight slur to her words was a bucket of ice water.
Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against hers, fighting for the strength to walk away. “You need to get some sleep.” His voice was hoarse with a need he couldn’t disguise.
“Nope. I need to kiss you again.”
“Babe, you’re drunk and not thinking straight.”
“So? Take advantage of me.”
Frustration rode him hard. “Not tonight, Mac,” he said regretfully, palming her cheek and running a thumb over her lush bottom lip.
“But you love me.”
Her petulance was adorable and fast weakening his resolve.
“Jake, will you love me when we run out of deodorant and I smell?”
“Yes, babe.”
“Will you love me when we run out of toothpaste?”
“Yes, babe.”
“Will you love me—”
“Mac, I will love you forever, no matter what. But right now, you need to get to bed, okay?”
“You’re no fun sometimes, you know that?”
Smiling, he pushed her upstairs.
Chapter Seven
Why had she thought whiskey was a good idea? Mackenzie’s eyes were gritty, and her head pounded. Groaning, she rolled over on the bed, thankful she was between the sheets alone. Had Jake slept with her last night?
The morning sun was entirely too bright, and she dragged a pillow over her head. Mac groaned again.
Hangovers sucked.
Mackenzie had a vague recollection of pushing herself against Jake’s firm chest, of rubbing her achingly tight nipples shamelessly against him. And then—
“Oh, my god. I kissed him!” She bolted upright. “It was our first kiss, and I was drunk.” She moaned.
She’d kissed Jake.
And could barely remember a thing about it.
“Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuckity-fuck.”
Several glasses of water, two Tylenol, and a shower later, Mackenzie felt somewhat more human. Although sitting in Quinn’s light-filled kitchen, she fought the urge to squint.
“Why is the sun so sunny this morning?” she grumbled to Dex, swallowing the last of her coffee. The dog, lounging at her feet, nosed her in commiseration.
Jake had emerged from Quinn’s home gym twenty minutes earlier, all sweaty and tousled. He’d slugged a bottle of water and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head before heading to the shower.
“Morning, babe,” he drawled, coming back into the kitchen. “Feeling okay?”
She hid her face in her hands.
She’d basically mauled him last night, if she remembered correctly. There’d been such an intense need. Desire that made her dizzy. She’d wanted to be close to him, couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t catch her breath, but oh god it’d been good. So good.
“I’ve been better,” she admitted, peeking through her fingers at him.
Dex’s sharp back distracted them, followed by a soft rapping on the front door. She instantly tensed. “Isn’t the Evac Area meant to be deserted?” she said, eyes wide.
Jake growled low as he stalked toward the front door, Dex on his heels.
“Jake? Mac? It’s me, Chloe,” came a muffled voice from the other side.
In two large steps, Jake flung open the door and enveloped the petite blond in a crushing bear hug, her relieved laughter stifled in his shirt front.
“Hi to you too, little bro.” She grinned, disentangling herself and promptly launching herself at Mackenzie.
Tears, hot and salty, drenched Mackenzie’s cheeks as Chloe, and then Rachel and Kat, engulfed her, arms banding them together as the sisters they were.
Yipping, Dex bounced around their heels until Jake relegated him to the laundry room.
“Shouldn’t you be in the Safe Zone?” Mackenzie finally gasped around hiccupping sobs.
“As if that dickhead Mayor Townsend could keep us from seeing you,” declared Kat.
A laugh exploded from Mackenzie. Kat may have the morals of a pirate, but she’d do anything for her friends. They hugged tighter.
Finally pulling apart and settling somewhat, the four collapsed onto the sofa together.
“I know it’s only midmorning, but we brought wine. Jake, can you see if Quinn has wine glasses?” asked Chloe, reaching for the two bottles of pinot that Rachel had dumped onto the coffee table.
She twisted the cap of the bottle open as Jake returned from the kitchen with four glasses and another bottle of water for himself. “I don’t love this pinot. But I also don’t love being sober.” Chloe poured generously.
“Here’s to having the same taste in alcohol.” Mackenzie said.
“And different taste in men!” Kat and Rachel chimed in.
The four women raised their glasses.
“So what’s with the dog?” Kat asked. “I’m not surprised you’ve found yourself a mutt, but where did it come from?”
“It’s a long story. But I think he’s mine now,” Mackenzie answered. “Are you allowed to be here?” She gulped at the light, dry wine in a bid to relieve her lingering hangover.
“Mayor Dickhead has us on lockdown, but we have contacts on the inside.” Kat waggled her eyebrows.
“Quinn’s on border patrol,” Rachel clarified. “As long as we’re back before his guard duty is over, no one will miss us.”
“It took you long enough to get here,” said Chloe. “I was worried out of my mind. Between you two and not hearing from Ash…” She looked down.
“It wasn’t… straightforward,” said Jake.
“We wondered if you’d have Peter with you?” Rachel ventured. “But Quinn said it was just the two of you.”
With hindsight, Mackenzie wondered what her friends actually thought of her ex-boyfriend. Belatedly, she realized they’d never shown a huge amount of enthusiasm for her relationship.
“Turns out my ex-boyfriend has a wife,” she stated calmly, surprised by how little the knowledge rankled.
The girls were aghast and suitably furious on her behalf.
“Look, I should’ve seen it coming. My dating profile said I liked champagne and men with beards. Which is basically a euphemism for ‘I have good taste in alcohol and poor taste in men.’” Out of the corner of her eye, Mackenzie saw Jake run a self-conscious hand over the stubble gracing his face. “And the signs were all there. It was stupid of me not to realize.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Kat consoled. “The mom in ET had an alien living in her house for days and didn’t notice.”
Rachel spluttered and Kat helpfully thumped her on the back.
“God, I missed you,” said Mackenzie, tears threatening to spill again.
“Careful, babe, you’re going to be calling Sanford ‘home’ soon,” teased Jake.
Kat’s eyebrows reached her hairline and Rachel mouthed “babe” at Mackenzie, who quickly averted her eyes.
I am going to strangle him. Slowly.
“Speaking of Sanford, seems like a lot has happened since I left,” Jake continued, oblivious. “Townsend must’ve mobilized quickly to evacuate the entire town into a safe zone and enforce a quarantine.”
“It’s been a fucking debacle,” Rachel said in her usual forthright manner. “Mom and all the other female councilors have been out of town on some kind of empowerment retreat, and the men on the council have become cavemen lunatics. With guns.”
“The council called a town meeting not long after you left,” Rachel continued. “They had a checkpoint at the entrance of the town hall and those with symptoms were diverted onto school buses and taken to Sanford Hospital. That’s where they’ve set up quarantine. We were all given two hours to make sure we had everything we needed and be inside the Safe Zone.”
“How are they enforcing the zones?” Jake questioned.
“They’ve armed pretty much all the men and have them walking border patrols.”
“And they won’t give any weapons to the women,” Chloe said.
“Dickheads,” spat Kat.
“Where are the boundaries?” Mackenzie was trying to get her head around the new makeup of her hometown.
“Main Street down to the river, town hall, the distillery and the middle school, and a couple of residential blocks. They’ve made anyone who lives within the Safe Zone accommodate everyone who lives in the Evac Area. Except, of course, Townsend, who’s living in his great big mansion all by himself.”
“But the hospital isn’t in the Safe Zone?” clarified Jake.
“Nope. Because who needs medical supplies in an emergency, right?” quipped Rachel sarcastically. As a vet nurse, she appeared to have taken personal affront to this decision. “They should’ve set up quarantine in the high school and maintained access to the hospital.”
“And they’ve tasked all the women with setting up a community kitchen and a day care at the middle school. We’re not even allowed to stock take the food and supplies in the supermarket and the hardware store. Apparently, that’s ‘man’s work.’” Chloe frowned.
“So the council is running the show?” Jake asked. “Quinn mentioned the law enforcement was, uh—”
“Dead,” completed Rachel. “The mortality rate of this virus is unprecedented. I can’t remember a lot of the historical infectious diseases component of my degree, but this goes way beyond anything we’ve ever seen before.”
“And there’s no cure?” Mackenzie asked quietly.
“Who knows? The internet and all other communication lines have been out for over twenty-four hours, and except for you, no one has been in or out of the town.”
“And all the dead?” Jake asked. “What are they doing with the bodies?”
It was a valid question, but Mackenzie still wished Jake hadn’t asked. These weren’t the nameless and unknown dead she’d already witnessed. These were the people of her community that she’d grown up with. Possibly even her father.
“No one has died since we’ve been in the Safe Zone,” Rachel replied. “Anyone with symptoms was removed before they set the boundary up, and no one else has come down with it since. I’m guessing they’re all at the hospital, or in their homes.”
A shiver raced down Mackenzie’s spine as she pictured the houses surrounding them. Full of bloody-faced corpses.
Glancing out the window, Chloe rose to her feet. “I hate to leave you, but we have to get back. If they know we’ve been here, they won’t let us back in.”
Jake stood too, throwing an arm over Chloe’s shoulders. “What about Grams? How is she?”
“The council made everyone over the age of seventy-five move into the Willows Travel Lodge,” said Rachel. “Because so many of us liv
ed in the Evac Area and had to move in with people in the Safe Zone, the council did some consolidation. Something about it being easier to care for the elderly if they were all in the one place.”
Mackenzie could imagine that in the shock and chaos, it’d been easy for the council to herd the townspeople wherever they wanted.
“Grams is hardly elderly.” Chloe huffed. “I’m going to check on her as soon as we get back.”
“Give her my love, okay?” Jake said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
As soon as they were alone again, Jake caught Mackenzie in his embrace, and he spun them around. Mackenzie’s back met the closed door before she could think. She had time to gasp in surprise before his mouth descended on hers, urgent and so, so right. His lips, a contradiction of soft and firm, explored hers as though he were savoring her. Consuming her.
“Wow. Hi.” Mackenzie pulled back and gasped in air. “Give a girl some warning next time.”
“Consider that your warning,” Jake growled, capturing her lips with his own again.
She gave in and opened to him on a sigh, his tongue plundering and possessing. Gripping her ass, he pulled her snugly against him, his straining erection tight against her belly as they kissed, wet and deep.
Jake was known to her, and not known. This wasn’t the boy she’d grown up with. This was a man. One allowing his emotions to bleed through with his every touch, forging an intimacy that was so profound, she was questioning everything she knew.
Time spun out. She was lost to the rasp of his stubble, the rhythm of his lips, the firm claiming of his hands on her waist. Without his hold, her knees would’ve buckled; she was boneless. Lost to the hunger between them.
“I don’t think I can stand.” She panted.
“I got you, baby girl.”
Reaching behind her thigh, Jake urged it up around his hip—notching them tight together. Mac moaned, grasping onto his shoulders to grind herself wantonly. Shamelessly. Anything to ease the aching throb between her legs.
More. She needed more.
Unhooking her leg, she reached between them, palming his erection through unrelenting jeans before tugging desperately at his belt buckle.
After Today (The After Series Book 1) Page 8