“I swear to god, Mackenzie!”
The need saturating Jake’s voice was a magnet, drawing her to him. Mac didn’t stop moving when she got to the bed, climbing on and laughing at the way his eyes latched on her bouncing breasts.
His big hands cupped her as his thumbs caressed across her nipples, causing her to gasp.
His hands were large, square and capable—working hands that had slightly rough abrasions on the pads of his fingers, causing a delicious friction that had her grinding down on his already thickening cock.
“Jake, I need you. Now.” Mackenzie said.
“What was that you were saying about patience?” He ducked his head to capture a nipple in his mouth and sucked deep. She bucked, her core slippery with the need to have him inside her.
She appreciated that Jake wasted no time in sheathing his cock, and then she was sinking onto his lap, hovering millimeters from satisfaction.
Dex growled, and Mackenzie saw he’d raised his head. She paused.
“Now you’re slowing down?” he asked.
“Did you hear that?” She cocked her head to the side. “Did we lock the front door?”
“Townsend himself could be on the doorstep. I don’t give a fuck. I need inside you, baby girl.”
“No, seriously—”
The dog shot to his feet, barking as he raced from the room.
“Fuck! That’s Quinn.” Jake groaned, clenching his hands in frustration on her hips. “Hurry, he’ll use his key if we don’t answer.”
Mackenzie and Jake arrived at the front door, breathless and rumpled, opening it to find Quinn patting down his pockets, no doubt looking for his keys.
“There’s a dog in my house?” Quinn asked, looking pointedly at the now quietened Dex.
“Took you long enough,” said Tom Brenner, stepping forward with his AK-47 held purposefully, adding extra menace to a man who already exuded plenty.
“Jesus, Tom. Put the rifle down,” said Quinn. “They’re not sick, see?” He gestured.
“Come with us.” Tom grunted.
“Sure, once you put your weapon away,” Jake said with a deceptive calm. The rigidity of his stance didn’t lessen until Tom reluctantly lowered the rifle. “It hasn’t been forty-eight hours. What changed your mind?”
There was a blunt edge to Jake’s question, and Mackenzie placed a warning hand onto his arm. It probably wasn’t the wisest idea to piss off an armed man.
“Council has called a town meeting. Mandatory attendance,” explained Quinn. “And it’s been twenty-four hours. If you’re not sick now, chances are you’re not going to be.”
“Okay,” Mackenzie stepped from behind Jake. “But I’m bringing my dog.”
Quinn raised his eyebrows.
“Your neighbor’s dog,” she amended, reaching down to pet Dex, who was leaning against her leg after having been reassured they weren’t under attack.
“He’s Stacy’s. Was Stacy’s.” Quinn grimaced. “I saw her getting on the bus to the hospital.”
“I don’t give a damn about the mutt,” Tom snapped. “You’ve got five minutes to grab your stuff, and then we’re leaving.” He stalked back to the SUV.
Quinn’s eyes caught and held Jake’s, a silent communication going on between them.
Mackenzie watched Jake’s shoulders finally loosen, before he turned to her. “Let’s get our things.”
It was a short and silent trip as they followed Tom and Quinn into the Safe Zone, with their vehicles waved through a checkpoint of sorts before parking outside the town hall. Small groups of people were making their way into the meeting, and suddenly Mackenzie’s nerves had nothing to do with the crisis and everything to do with this town and her history with it.
Bitterness had a taste, and she swallowed convulsively.
Sanford was a small town with a long memory, and most of the population had no problem transferring her father’s sins onto her shoulders. It didn’t matter that she’d never passed out drunk in public, borrowed money with no intention of repaying, or whored around breaking up marriages. It didn’t even matter that she had the endorsement of the town’s golden girl, Chloe. Although, to be fair, Kat’s antics probably negated any favorable feelings that association with Chloe provided.
No, Mackenzie herself didn’t matter in the slightest. All the townspeople saw was the daughter of Carl Lyons—the high school football star turned alcoholic, who’d slept with more women, married and otherwise, than anyone was comfortable discussing. Who was she kidding? They loved talking about how much better they were than him.
Snide comments, obvious snubs, hurtful jokes—she’d endured them all.
There was a reason she didn’t come home often.
Wondering if she’d see her father inside town hall, she decided she didn’t care either way. They hadn’t seen each other in years. From the time she’d turned twelve, she’d spent more nights on the rollaway bed in Chloe’s room than in her own house.
“You good?” Jake asked, tucking her against his side as they walked through the imposing double doors, Dex tight on their heels.
“Just, this town.” Mac sighed.
Jake squeezed her in response, apparently well aware of her feelings. It was flustering, the way he knew her. As though he didn’t so much know her past as he knew her memories.
She had a sudden thought that the reality of her couldn’t live up to the depth of his love. Because she had no doubt, he thought it was love. And she knew she couldn’t possibly inspire such devotion.
They walked past a small group of middle-aged women in a row of seats, one of whom was her father’s neighbor, who promptly turned her back.
“Ignore her,” Jake murmured, leading her onward.
“I hope these people go to church because I don’t want them in hell with me.”
His laughter was a rich, low baritone that did funny things to her stomach.
“Jake! Mackenzie! Over here,” called Chloe, waving at them from where she was already sitting with Rachel and Kat.
An immediate flash of guilt stung Mackenzie at the sight of her best friend, knowing what had transpired between her and Jake. How on earth was she going to have that conversation with Chloe?
They barely had time for quick hugs before Mayor Townsend, an imposing man with a chiseled jaw and barrel chest, called the meeting to order.
“It’s a sad day to be standing before you,” he said, “as your leader and defender, and see our population so decimated. Make no mistake, these are grave times and it’s going to take strength and drastic measures to see us through.”
“Jesus. Has he always been so self-important?” Mackenzie whispered to Kat, whose snort of amusement earned them glares from the row in front.
“The council and I are meeting tomorrow to draw up new laws, which will be implemented accordingly,” Townsend continued. “In the meantime, I need several men to volunteer to go on a raid tomorrow to get supplies for the town.”
A raid? Mackenzie’s forehead creased.
Rachel had the same reaction, and she wasn’t afraid to put it into words. Her hand shot into the air. “I understand we need to get supplies, but do we really need to call it a raid? That sounds overly aggressive.”
“You’re a woman, and I wouldn’t expect you to understand. But aggression is the way of the world now, missy,” Townsend stated, his voice dripping in condescension.
Rachel leaped to her feet. “Don’t call me missy. And—”
“This town is going to operate on order,” Townsend spoke over her, aided by the microphone. “And anyone who interrupts will be removed.”
“This is a meeting, not an assembly for a dictator!” Rachel yelled back.
“Charles, remove her.” Townsend waved an unconcerned hand in Rachel’s direction and continued to strategize a raid on their nearest neighboring town.
Mackenzie hid a grin as Rachel raised an imperious eyebrow at the man who came to escort her out. “Seriously, Charlie? You’ve been my moth
er’s assistant for almost a decade and now you’re his lackey?”
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Charles Nixen said, glancing back toward Townsend.
“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll gladly leave this shit show.” Kat pulled Mackenzie and Chloe to their feet. “For anyone who wants to join us later, we’ll be at The Strumpet!” She winked at the gaping mouths surrounding them.
Jake followed the women out, stopping briefly to pull Quinn aside.
“Do me a favor? Find out who’s going on this raid tomorrow and ask them to look for asthma inhalers at the drugstore.”
“Mackenzie?”
“Yeah, she has backups, but—”
“I’ll make it happen,” Quinn said in a low voice.
When Jake emerged onto the sidewalk, the four friends had linked arms and were marching up the middle of Main Street, heading for the bar attached to the whiskey distillery.
God, they’d always been a force to be reckoned with when they were all together. Jake grinned wryly to himself. He’d spent his whole life on the outside, looking in at the fierce bond they shared.
Mackenzie glanced back over her shoulder, looking for him, and he quickened his step.
Inside The Strumpet, Maggie, the platinum blond who’d managed the bar for the last decade, was wiping down the counter.
“Not at the town meeting, Mags?” Jake asked, sliding onto a bar stool as the girls headed for the bathroom, and Dex came to sit at his feet.
“Townsend can kiss my ass,” Maggie said.
“Good to know that the world can go to hell, but you’ll still be behind the bar.”
“Where else would I be? I live up top. Donny’s out back cleaning glasses.” She motioned to her nineteen-year-old son. “Rather be here than put to work out there, running Townsend’s little empire. Now, what can I get you?”
“Whiskey, straight up.”
“No can do. A rep from the distillery has requisitioned all the whiskey, thinks we’ll need it to trade with.”
“A rep? I thought old man Harvey was in charge of the distillery?”
“He’s just the manager. Remember James O’Connor? I think he was a couple of years above you at school. He works for the corporation who owns the distillery and was doing a site inspection when this all went down.” Maggie poured him a beer. “He’s not a bad kid, and to be honest, he’s probably got the right idea, but half the locals want his head on a stick. This town survives on whiskey, and folks are mighty pissed they can’t get it.”
Out of habit, Jake reached for his wallet and pulled out some bills, pausing as Maggie raised her eyebrows.
“Pretty sure that’s just useless paper now.” Maggie laughed. “It’s on the house. It’s all on the house until we run dry, or Townsend takes it over. Put away your money, it’s no good here.”
“Darling Maggie, did I just hear you say everything’s on the house?” cried Kat, strutting behind the bar and flinging her arms around Maggie.
“Get on with you, girl.” She laughed, slapping a dishcloth against Kat’s ass as Kat bent over in front of the wine fridge and pulled out two bottles of white wine.
“Ladies, are we good with white?”
“Better grab a red too,” called Chloe, settling at a high-top table.
Grabbing his beer, Jake joined his sister and pulled out a stool for Mackenzie. He caught the look Chloe flashed between them and didn’t give a damn, instead pulling Mackenzie’s stool closer to his own.
Chloe’s reaction was forgotten when Mackenzie looked up at him from beneath her thick lashes, a secret smile dancing on those tempting lips of hers.
It was killing him not to claim her, not to tell the whole damn world they were together. That she was his. But she’d made him promise they’d keep it between themselves.
He’d agreed, for now. He understood her recalcitrance wasn’t just in telling Chloe, but the fact she didn’t trust in what was between them. That it was real.
But she would.
“Isn’t it funny how eight glasses of water in a day seems impossible, but I can do eight glasses of wine over a bowl of stale peanuts?” Kat dumped glasses and wine bottles on the table, upsetting said bowl of nuts.
“Are we going to talk about what just happened at the meeting?” Rachel asked.
“Nope. We’re getting drunk.” Kat opened a bottle and poured generously.
“It sucks, and we will talk about it,” Chloe said, putting her hand on Rachel’s arm. “But not right now. It’s been forever since we were all here together, and I just want to forget everything. Forget that my jerk of a husband didn’t come home when I asked and pretend the world hasn’t fallen to shit and he’s on his way back now.”
“Sounds good to me. My mom is also on her way back from that retreat, and is healthy, and ready to take Townsend down a peg or three.” Rachel’s voice was only slightly wobbly.
They clinked glasses as townspeople began filtering into the bar, the meeting obviously over.
“Rachel Davenport, you’re a bitch just like your mother,” sneered a voice from behind them.
Rachel spun around and Jake got to his feet, deliberately placing his beer on the table before turning.
“Vivienne Oxley,” he drawled. “I don’t remember inviting you to join us.”
“I wouldn’t join you if you paid me!” she spat. “I just wanted to let Rachel know that she’s not so high and mighty now that her mother’s not here, and she better learn her place.”
“Learn my place?” Rachel laughed, high and brittle. “Vivienne, you’re Townsend’s secretary. Where exactly do you think that places you?”
“On the side of power, that’s where.”
“Just fuck off, Viv. You still haven’t gotten over the fact that Rach beat you out for a spot on the marching band in high school, which is kind of sad.” Mackenzie gave a small shrug of her shoulders and took another sip of wine.
“What exactly made you think you’d be welcome back in Sanford, Mackenzie Lyons? Your father’s a deadbeat piece of trash and you’re no better,” Vivienne scorned.
Mackenzie’s knuckles went white holding her wineglass and Jake’s blood pressure spiked. He’d never in his life been tempted to harm a woman, but this small-town bitch was pushing his limits.
Mackenzie pushed herself away from the table and stood before Vivienne, head held high. “Vivienne, you are a disappointment to the sisterhood.”
“Oh, that’s right, you four are some kind of girl squad.”
“You know what? We are. And to be a part of our girl gang, you need to be fluent in smart-ass, sarcasm, and adult language. In addition, questionable morals and nudity may be required. All of which I don’t think you’re capable of. So, I’ll say it again, fuck off.”
Jesus, and now he had a hard on. Jake surreptitiously adjusted himself as Vivienne flounced away. Sassy Mackenzie was a major turn on.
The color was high on her cheeks, and her chest heaved. Was he imagining he could see the outline of her nipples? He took a long swallow of his drink, attempting to get himself under control.
“Oh, Mac, it’s so good to have you back.” Chloe sighed, slinging her arm over Mackenzie’s shoulder.
“Look, I'm a nice girl. So if I'm a bitch to you, you need to ask yourself why,” Mackenzie said.
Jake grinned and settled in for the evening.
Maggie was calling last drinks, and Jake was relieved. The girls had gone through several bottles of wine before starting on shots of peach schnapps, and it was only going downhill from there.
“Can you believe James had the nerve to come back to town and take away all our whiskey?” Rachel slurred.
“Screw the whiskey. I can’t believe he’s back. Have you seen him yet?” Mackenzie asked. “Because when I see him, I’m totally slapping that pretty face of his.”
“You’re not slapping anyone.” Jake chuckled, removing the empty shot glass from her lax fingers. “So this James O’Connor from the distillery is the same Jam
es who—?”
“Don’t say it.” Mackenzie placed a finger over his lips. “You’ll just hurt Rachel’s feelings if you mention how he stomped all over her heart.”
“Gee, thanks, Mac,” Rachel said dryly.
But Jake had lost all interest in the conversation. Mackenzie’s finger stayed pressed against his lips, and god himself couldn’t have stopped him from opening his mouth and sucking it inside.
Wide-eyed, Mackenzie almost slipped from her stool, popping her finger free in order to rebalance herself. When her gaze flashed back to his, he licked his lips.
“Come on, ladies, time for bed,” sang Chloe. “Let’s have a sleepover at my house!”
“I’m assuming I’m not invited to this slumber party?” Jake said.
“Absolutely no little brothers allowed.” Kat skipped toward the exit. “Good night, darling Maggie!”
The little brother comment was irritating, but Mackenzie appeared not to have registered it. She was still fixated on his lips, shaking herself when they twitched in amusement.
Reaching for her backpack, she stumbled and swore.
“I forgot what a dirty mouth you have on you,” he murmured against her ear before picking up both his own backpack and hers.
“You don’t know the half of it, Jake Brent,” she purred, wiggling her eyebrows up and down mischievously.
“Come on then, I’ll walk you all home.” He sighed with feigned annoyance.
Chloe’s house wasn’t a long walk, but Jake had a new appreciation for mothers with toddlers as he shepherded them home.
“Kat! What are you doing?” He huffed as she scampered into someone’s front garden.
“Maureen Park is a judgmental old bag, and she doesn’t deserve to have this adorable gnome in her garden. He wants to come home with me.”
“Put the gnome back, Kat.”
“No.”
“Kat.”
“No!” And she ran off down the sidewalk, gnome in one hand and high heels dangling from their straps in the other.
Rachel and Chloe took off after her, disappearing through Chloe’s front door half a block down.
After Today (The After Series Book 1) Page 10