Wood U (Carved Hearts #4)

by L. G. Pace III

  I cannot express the relief I felt when we finally pulled into the driveway of my place. He’d taken some back way there, and I had no idea we were close until we were parking. Or it might have something to do with the fact that I’d had my eyes smashed shut for the entire ride. I hurried off of the bike and nearly tripped over my own feet. Mac grabbed my arm to steady me.

  “You all right?” he asked, as he easily dismounted from the bike.

  “Yeah.” I tried to take the helmet off, but my hands were shaking too badly to manage the job.

  “Here.” He reached out and undid the snap with one swift movement and helped me remove the helmet. His eyes roamed my hair, and he snickered.

  “What?” I was getting a little tired of being laughed at, and my frayed nerves made me an easy target.

  He hooked the helmet onto the bike and ran both of his large hands over my hair, smoothing it. There was something foreboding blazing behind his cool eyes. Something raw, masculine, promising. “I never thought someone could make helmet hair sexy. Should’ve known you’d pull it off.”

  Though I fixed him with a disbelieving frown, I was thoroughly charmed by him, and it made me want to kick myself.

  “So.” He cleared his throat. “Is this the part where we make small talk until you invite me in?”

  An incredulous laugh escaped me. “I’m not asking you inside.”

  He tilted his head almost imperceptibly, and his eyebrow cocked skyward. “Why not?”

  “Because,” I scoffed, “classy girls don’t invite men into their apartments on the first date.”

  His eyes lit with amusement. “Is that so?”

  “It is.” I nodded. “Though based on the company you were keeping at the honkey tonk, I can see how you wouldn’t know this rule.”

  “Hey now.” He mocked a serious expression. “Let’s not talk about people who aren’t here to defend themselves.”

  “You didn’t seem too concerned with her defense back at the bar,” I pointed out with a smirk, turning toward the house.

  “I was distracted,” he said, his long strides catching up to me easily.

  I pursed my lips. “That’s too bad. I bet she would have invited you up if you’d taken her home.”

  He squinted his eyes at me. “You’re jealous.”

  “I’m not jealous of her.” I laughed at the idea.

  He stopped walking, and on instinct, I did too. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Nothing,” I admitted. “She’s pretty…in a slutty kind of way.”

  “Sluts are people, too.” He shrugged, and I couldn’t help but snicker as I continued toward the house. “So about this rule of yours…is it written in stone?”

  “Yep.” I sounded remarkably committed to my morals considering that inside of my head, I was trying to remember where I had packed my condoms.

  “But this…” He gestures between the two of us with his fingers. “This wasn’t a date. So I think that renders your rule null and void. Technically speaking.”

  We’d arrived at the front door, and I turned to face him. I stuck out my hand.

  “Goodnight, Mac. Thank you for bringing me home.”

  He took my hand, but instead of shaking it as I’d intended him to, he brought it up to his lips. He kissed it, and the warm, wet contact jolted a direct line from his lips to between my legs. His smoldering eyes belayed their icy cold color, and I couldn’t decide whether to focus on his eyes or his lips.

  Then just like that, it ended. He released my hand.

  “Goodnight, Sugar,” he replied, gifting me another of his condescending grins.

  I watched as his strutted in the direction of his bike. I was a little sad to see him go, but the view of him from behind was truly astounding.

  “I bet you call all the girls that,” I called after him, wanting to have the last word.

  He stopped and turned, a wry small barely visible in the faint light of the streetlamp.

  “Only the sweet ones, Kelly,” he said. He turned back to his bike, and I got to see his signature move as he swung his leg up and over it once more. I watched him ride off down the block until he was swallowed up by the night.

  AUGUST FLEW BY, and we were halfway into September before I had a chance to relax. That’s when Joe and Molly announced that they were having twins, and Joe said we needed to hire another guy for the shop. I kept my mouth shut, but inside, I rejoiced. We were so busy at Good Wood that I didn’t have time to do anything more than eat, sleep, and shuttle my kid to PeeWee football.

  Things were starting to get ugly with Junior’s mom again, only this time it wasn’t about money. Patty had started dropping the ball on a regular basis, and now even the school had begun to complain. The first time I met Principal Higgens, I knew things had gone too far. The principal was a matronly woman with gray hair and a no-nonsense stare, and I remember thinking that I’d have been on the honor roll if I’d had to contend with the likes of her.

  Junior was coloring in her office when I got there, and the icy look she shot me told me I’d been tried and found guilty. After sending Mac Jr. off to collect his things, she ushered me in and closed the door.

  “Mr. Hildebrandt, I hope you’ll forgive the intrusive nature of my question, but is there something going on with M.J.’s mother?” I kept a poker face, not wanting to let on how angry I was with Patricia. When I finally answered the principal, I did my best not to lie.

  “I’m not really sure where she is.” It was true and alarming beyond words. “Normally she would’ve called me to pick up Mac Jr. if she was running late. Maybe she broke down somewhere without cell service.”

  Covering for the mother of my child was one of many small compromises that I’d grown accustom to making for the sake of my son. Sadly, I did it more now than I had during our brief marriage. That’s the thing about compromises: the tiny ones open the door a crack, then the bigger ones start to sneak through. Time and pressure can throw that door wide open, and if you aren’t careful, your entire house gets washed downstream by the flood.

  “Yes, well, it’s unusual for us to have a parent ‘no call no show.’ It is unheard of for us to have a child here after school for over an hour with no communication. That’s why we finally called you. I’m very glad that we were able to reach you.” She left it unspoken what ‘official’ actions she would have had to take if I hadn’t answered the phone.

  “You can call me any time you have a concern, Ma’am.” I replied. “M.J.’s my number one priority.

  For Mac Jr., all of this was a normal Tuesday. He was his usual goofy self, all smiles and joking around. On the way home, he begged me for an after-school snack, and considering it was nearly dinnertime, I obliged. While we waited in line for the drive thru, I tried to call Patty twice, and it just rang and rang.

  Junior was already chowing down his chicken strips and chocolate shake when Patty finally called. She was all apologies and tears.

  “Oh, Mac! I just woke up! Do you have Mac Jr.? I took some medicine for my cold, and it knocked me out.” She sounded so frantic and reasonable that against my better judgement, I accepted her excuse. I decided to let the issue pass, telling myself it was a one-time mistake. I relayed the principal’s concerns so that Patty knew what was at stake.

  I’d tried to talk to Patricia a few times about getting help for her drinking, but these conversations usually devolved. I’d go in with good intentions and come out with her screaming at me to get the hell out of her house. I’d finally stopped pushing when she told me that her life was none of my concern and hinted that if I kept it up, she’d make it hard for me to see MJ. While I doubted she could swing something like that with her record, I’m cautious when it comes to my boy, and I don’t want to tempt fate unless it becomes absolutely necessary. As much as she lets him down, Mac Jr. loves his mom. I backed off, and I made it clear that as long as she was a good mom I’d stay out of her business.

  Unlike my sister, I actually tried to mind my own business m
ost of the time. I kept my mouth shut about Kelly being in town, too, but that wasn’t easy. Every time Francis mentioned Kelly, I had to leave the room. Since the night I took her home, she’d been on my mind more and more. Her prim and proper routine didn’t fool me. There was so much more behind that innocent face. She cracked me up, and that was refreshing. A keen sense of humor wasn’t typical with the women I took to bed. I looked forward to seeing her again and was getting tired of waiting around for her to come around.

  I kept waiting for Kelly to turn up at the shop; but weeks had passed, and she had yet to show. I was tempted on several occasions to swing by her apartment since I knew where she lived, but I didn’t want to come off as some desperate creeper. I had some concerns that I’d run into Francis there, and I’d have a rough time explaining how I knew where Kelly lived or even that she was in Texas. Finally, Francis came into the shop one morning and informed us that Kelly had moved to town and had started a teaching job. Joe asked all of the appropriate questions, while I just bit my tongue and nodded politely.

  It was a couple of weeks more before I saw her again. Finally one day in early October, she breezed into the front door of the shop. My memory hadn’t done her justice, and I ogled her amazing body. She somehow managed to look elegant in faded jeans and a snug green sweater that fit her like a glove. She smiled politely at me, and when she said ‘hello,’ her tone was polished and indifferent. That stung a bit, but I figured it was because her dad was standing right there, as well as my chatterbox of a sister who’d evidently taken Kelly to lunch. Molly’s a known busybody, so I followed Kelly’s lead, though my first instinct was to give her a ration of trash about staying away so long.

  She and Molly had been to Franklin’s Barbecue, and they’d been thoughtful enough to bring some takeout back for us. My stomach growled when the smell of the legendary slow cooked meat hit me. We’d been so busy that we hadn’t even taken the time to make a burger run, and we were starving.

  Francis turned the sign to ‘closed,’ and we all went back into the break room. He and I dove head first into the amazing brisket, and while we ate, Kelly asked Molly a ton of questions about Molly’s food truck, Wrapgasmic, and the Austin food truck movement in general. I listened carefully, hoping to pick up a few details about Kelly, since every time we were in the same room our conversations weaved around until they dropped into the gutter of sexual innuendo.

  What I did gather from her side of the conversation with Molly was that Kelly was a total fitness nut. She went to Barton Springs to swim three times a week, and she was about to quit kayaking for the season because the water was too cold. When Kelly said she wasn’t sure what she’d do with all the extra free time, Molly blabbed on about some singles group that one of her employees belonged to.

  “It’s called Capers and Connections. I guess it’s mixers for single people…a way to be in the right place to meet other single people while trying new stuff.” Molly sipped her sweet tea and placed a hand on her growing belly. “Isaac says it’s a pretty cool alternative to sitting on a barstool, trying to pick someone up. If I was single, I’d totally do it.”

  Kelly nodded and responded with ‘oh yeahs and uh huhs,’ and I was tempted to put my sister into a choke hold, pregnant or not. Putting Kelly into an environment full of young single men from any walk of life would screw my chances with her. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see she was a total catch, and I envisioned my window of opportunity sliding shut.

  The food was nothing but a memory when Joe came in, but he didn’t have time to partake in BBQ anyway. He and Molly were house hunting, since there was no way they’d be able to fit two babies’ worth of shit into their two bedroom apartment. They had an appointment with their realtor, and I for one was very happy to see my sister on her way out the door. Molly told Kelly she’d cook her some Hildebrandt BBQ, and Kelly mentioned some 5K that she was running in. After butting my nose in for clarification, I’d agreed to run the race with her. Molly and Joe both had a good laugh; I hadn’t done any serious cardio in a long-ass time, and they both knew it. But I’d cut back on my smoking a few months before, since Mac Jr. had come home from school talking about how it was going to kill me. I’ve been active all my life, and I’ve got a physical job. I figured it was a way to get physical with Kelly and didn’t see running a little over three miles as a lofty goal.

  I shoot hoops. I’m in a dart league. I play drunk golf. Okay, those last two are piss-poor examples, but how hard can a 5K be?

  Joe and Molly left for their appointment, and a young couple came wandering into the shop. Francis led them back into the showroom, and I saw my chance. I followed Kelly out of the front door and caught her before she could close her car door.

  “Hey!” I called. She turned, and her wide smile and soft eyes welcomed me to start a real conversation.

  “‘Hey,’ yourself,” she replied as I rested my hand on the open car door.

  “Where you been, girl?” I asked, surprising myself. I hadn’t expected to bring up her absence, but I guess that’s what happens when you have someone on your mind for weeks on end.

  “Setting up my classroom…unpacking all my crap.” She climbed back out of the car, and I didn’t bother to back up. I liked being this close to Kelly. It was a mild afternoon, and in the sunlight, I could see the small scattering of freckles that spanned her cheeks. Her eyes were light brown, like the muddy water of the Colorado River, and I watched her blush with satisfaction.

  It’s not all in my head. She likes me, too.

  “It still takes me a while to get anywhere since I’m new in town.” She looked up at me from under her lashes. She didn’t seem uncomfortable with my closeness, so I stayed put.

  “I thought about stopping by, maybe taking you out for a beer. Or a cup of coffee,” I told her. A sudden gust of wind blew a long strand of her hair across her lips. I had to actively resist the urge to brush it out of her face.

  “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Her girlish lilt made what she said sound extra naughty, and I couldn’t suppress a grin.

  “Yeah, well…” I had no comeback, and that was a strange state of affairs.

  “So you’re really going to run this race with me, right?” She fed me a thread to run with, tossing her long hair over her shoulder and out of her face.

  “Hell yeah. I’m going to smoke you, too.” The flash in her eyes spurred me on. “But don’t worry, Sugar. I’ll give you a head start. I want you to feel like you’ve got a sporting chance.”

  “Keep talking smack.” She wrinkled her nose and put her hand on her hip. She looked so damned adorable, I kicked myself for not camping out on her doorstep weeks before.

  We exchanged a few more friendly barbs, and I somehow conned her out of her phone number before she left. When I walked back in the shop, Francis was behind the counter, his dark eyes trained on me in disapproval. I greeted him casually, and he pointedly ignored me as if I were a ghost.

  That same night, I borrowed Robin’s old treadmill, and I forced myself to get on the stupid thing every day for an hour. I damned near had a heart attack the first few times, but it made giving up the smokes a hell of a lot easier. Kelly and I texted each other every night, comparing miles ran, how long it took us, and calories burned. The night before the race, I finally called her.

  “Calling to back out?” That was how she greeted me, the little minx.

  “Nah. I thought you might be feeling shy about your concession speech, so I thought I’d break the ice. Lend you my thesaurus to help you out with the big words.”

  “Dream on, Smack-talker.”

  “What do you say we make this interesting?” I asked, popping a Lean Pocket in the microwave. “If I win, you go out on a date with me.”

  There was a long pause.

  Fuck.

  “That depends.” She sounded far too serious for my taste. “You remember my kissing rule, right?”

  “No kisses the first time I bring you home on
the first date. No problem. I’ve already brought you home, so I should be grandfathered in.” I reached for a beer and thought better of it, grabbing a bottle of water instead. “We’re in the clear.”

  “I’m not sure there’s a grandfather clause in this situation.” The sultry edge in her voice made me want to ask what she was wearing.

  “We could always skip the kissing and go straight to the good stuff.” I offered.

  “Oh, no.” Her voice was even huskier this time. “I really like the kissing.”

  My throat felt dry, and my pants felt tight. The microwave dinged, and I nearly gave myself third degree burns retrieving my dinner since I wasn’t thinking clearly. “Maybe I should just come over now and we can practice.”

  She laughed. “What happens if I win?”

  “You won’t.” I said without missing a beat.

  “Let’s say I did.” She pressed.

  I smiled. “Hell will freeze over.”

  She sniffed. Then in a sassy tone, she dismissed me. “Goodnight, Mac.”

  “Night, Sugar.”

  Since the race was called the Howl-O-Ween 5K, I borrowed Mason’s dog, Bones. He was a little out of shape just like me, but Kelly had mentioned that we’d be the odd folks out if we didn’t have a dog. When I found her at the starting line, she looked amazing in black running pants that clung to every curve and a red shirt that said “I run to burn off the crazy.” She gushed all over the old hound dog as if he were a tiny baby puppy she could put in her purse. Bones ate that shit up, which just proved Kelly’s appeal to the male gender, no matter what the species.

  When we actually crossed the finish line, we were neck and neck. It’s my belief that she was purposely hanging back with me. She had to be sandbagging; she was a finely tuned machine, and I was nothing more than a weekend warrior.