Seizing Mack: A Contemporary Love Story (Covendale Book 3)

by Abbie Zanders

  “Hey, Nick. Uh, thanks.”

  Nick took the hand the teen extended and looked directly into the boy’s eyes. “You’re welcome. You did the right thing in calling me, Jesse.”

  Jesse nodded and turned to go back into the house, then paused. “Listen, if you’re serious about wanting to do something...”

  “I am.”

  “There’s this guy that’s been coming around every couple days. Name’s Zeke. He’s a prospect at my old man’s MC, and word is he’s taken over distribution. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

  “Hear what?” Nick asked. The kid’s eyes flashed with approval.

  Nick got back into his car, feeling pretty good about the way things had turned out. What could have been a bad situation all around had been resolved quietly and peacefully. Jesse Senior was on his way back to prison, and Jesse and his mom were safe.

  The fact that Jesse had called him meant that Nick was making progress in building a sense of trust with the teens at the center and in the community. An added bonus: now he had a solid lead on who was bringing the drugs into the area and targeting kids.

  To top it all off, he was going to finish out the day by meeting up with Mack.

  Nick looked at the dashboard display and groaned. It was much later than he’d thought.

  With no time to go back to his place and change, Nick made his way across town, thankful the traffic wasn’t too bad. By the time he pulled into O’Malley’s, the clock read seven. Still in his suit and tie, Nick jogged across the lot, hoping he hadn’t missed her.

  An older guy with a buzz cut looked up from his ammo supply catalog, pinning Nick with cold, clear light blue eyes. He had military written all over him. If Nick had to guess, he’d say special forces. “Can I help you?”

  “Yeah, I’m supposed to meet someone here. Is Mack still around?”

  The guy’s eyes narrowed. “Who wants to know?”

  “Nick. Nick Benning.”

  Nick offered a friendly smile, but it wasn’t returned. Those blue eyes assessed him, much the way Mack’s had the first time he’d seen her. “You look like a cop.”

  “Detective, actually.”

  “Ah. You’re the new guy.”

  Nick nodded. He found it was easier to go with that than explain that he’d grown up in Covendale, moved away, and decided to return to his roots.

  The older guy stared at him for a few minutes, absently chewing a toothpick. Then he smirked and chuckled, leaving Nick feeling as if he had just missed something important. “Mack’s been and gone.” He jerked his thumb to the targets now proudly displayed behind him.

  Nick saw Mack’s name scribbled at the bottom and couldn’t help but be impressed. Maybe it was a good thing he’d been held up; otherwise, he might be shaking his ass in spandex.

  “She’s good, huh?”

  “Mack? She’s the best.” The warning was clear in the older man’s tone. Those icy blue eyes lit on him like a laser. Nick had the distinct impression the guy wasn’t just talking about her high-accuracy shooting.

  Nick refused to cower under the guy’s gaze and met it with one of his own. “I don’t suppose you’d know where I could find her?”

  “You’re a detective. You figure it out.”

  “Right. Thanks.”

  Nick turned to leave, feeling the guy’s gaze on his back. Clearly, the guy felt protective of Mack, and that, Nick could respect. He was more concerned with what Mack thought when he hadn’t shown. Did she think he’d stood her up? Or, knowing he was a cop, had she given him the benefit of the doubt?

  He slid into the driver’s seat and sighed. He was more than a little rusty at this kind of thing. For ten years, the job had always come first. It had been a long time since he’d been interested enough to wonder about things like impressions and misunderstandings on a personal level. However, he did remember enough to realize he owed Mack an explanation, and sooner rather than later. With any luck, she might be willing to meet him for a quick bite or maybe some coffee.

  But first, he had to get her number.

  He pointed the car toward Seize. Mack wasn’t there, but Carl was. When Nick explained the situation, Carl called out to a sculpted blonde guy who was just emerging from the weight room area.

  “Hey Jay, come here for a minute, will you?”

  “What’s up?”

  “Nick here is asking how to contact Mack.”

  The guy called Jay turned to Nick. “Detective Benning, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Jay, Mack’s housemate. Is there a problem?”

  Mack’s housemate? This guy lived with Mack? He had male model written all over him, from his artfully tousled hair and perfect white teeth to his cut, fit physique. A wave of something dark and possessive tried to rise up, but Nick pushed it down.

  “I was supposed to meet up with Mack, but I got held up at work and missed her.”

  Jay narrowed his eyes. “You had a date with Mack?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  The words came out with an edge he hadn’t been able to fully suppress. Rather than take offense, a smile curved Jay’s lips. “No worries, Detective. Mack and I are many things to each other, but lovers isn’t one of them.”

  Relief coursed through him. “I was supposed to meet Mack at O’Malley’s.”,

  “Mixing Mack and firearms? You are a brave man.”

  “Well, Nick, I am going to do you a solid.” Jay peeled off a sticky note from a stack on the desk and scribbled a number. “This is Mack’s personal cell, but if you tell her you got it from me, I’ll deny it.”

  “Deal. Thanks.”

  “Oh, and Detective? Mack and I might not be involved that way, but she is my closest and dearest friend. I care about her very much.”

  Jay pinned him with a hard look, and Nick took it for what it was: a warning. “Understood.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  ~ Mack ~

  Nick: Sorry I missed you.

  Wearing another “borrowed” pair of Jay’s boxers and an oversized Seize T, Mack sat cross-legged on her bed and re-read the text, wondering how Nick got her cell number. Then she remembered what he did for a living and felt stupid. It would be child’s play for a detective to find her mobile number.

  Mack briefly considered blowing him off, then realized that would make it seem like she was bothered by the fact that he’d failed to show. She wasn’t. Not at all. Why would she be?

  Mack: No problem.

  Nick: Something came up at work.

  She’d figured as much. It was either that or Nick had deliberately blown her off, and he didn’t seem like the type to do that. The situation did provide her with a much-needed dose of reality, however. Nick’s job was a priority, which she understood perfectly.

  Mack: It happens.

  Nick: Too late to grab a coffee?

  Mack’s thumb hovered over the screen. Was he serious or just being polite? Either way, it didn’t really matter. The evening had proven that she was in over her head when it came to Nick Benning. She could tell herself they could just be friends, but the tingles and sense of anticipation she felt whenever she was around him proved otherwise. Until she got control over that, avoidance was her best option.

  Mack: Yes, sorry.

  Nick: Raincheck?

  Mack: Sure. She tapped out the response, confident she wouldn’t have to make good on it. Something else would come up. She’d make sure of it.

  Nick: What are you doing now?

  Mack stared at the screen, surprised. He wanted to know what she was doing? At least he didn’t ask her what she was wearing.

  She snorted, then mentally chastised herself. He was not interested in her. He was just a nice guy who felt bad about standing her up and was trying to make amends with light, topical conversation. Obviously, he didn’t realize that it wasn’t necessary, because show or no-show, it meant nothing more than something to do.

  And because it meant nothing, she answered him honestly.

  Mack: Getting
ready for bed.

  Nick: Kind of early for that, isn’t it?

  Mack: It’s been a long day and I have to get up early.

  Minutes ticked by while she chewed her lip and waited for a response. Had he picked up on her subtle clues? Or was he, at that very moment, shrugging out of his work clothes into something more comfortable? Making himself something to eat? Images of Nick, shirtless in his kitchen, came to mind. Was he a frozen entrée kind of guy, or did he like to cook?

  Her phone dinged with an incoming message, breaking her away from that appealing visual.

  Nick: Okay. Goodnight, Mack.

  Well, that was easy, she thought. Not even a half-hearted attempt to keep her talking. She was glad she’d had the foresight not to take things too seriously, because if she had gotten her hopes up, they’d be crashing and burning with disappointment for a second time that evening.

  Mack: Goodnight, Detective.

  Mack punched her pillow and tried to put Nick Benning out of her thoughts. It didn’t work. Each time she closed her eyes, images of his mischievous smile and laughing eyes kept popping up.

  Eventually, she gave up and got up, grabbing her laptop in the hopes of distracting herself with work. By midnight, she’d completed the class schedules through the end of the quarter. By one, she’d outlined a new combined strength/cardio program geared toward busy moms. At two, she finally put the computer away and fell into a restless, exhausted sleep.

  When her alarm went off, she dragged her ass out of bed and made an extra-strong pot of coffee.

  “Mack!” Dee called from the second floor. Mack groaned. She was in no mood to deal with Delilah. She ignored the summons and sipped her coffee.

  “Now, Mack!” Dee whined from the second floor. “Come here right now. It’s urgent.”

  Mack closed her eyes and prayed for patience. Dee’s idea of “urgent” was probably a chip in her gel manicure or, God forbid, a blemish. After a restless night, all Mack wanted to do was have a peaceful cup of coffee on the porch before she went in to work. Was that too much to ask?

  Gulping down the last of the brew, she took a deep breath and steeled herself for what she would find. She was glad she’d taken those extra moments when she found Dee standing naked in the guest bathroom wearing nothing but a scowl and shoving an iPhone toward Mack.

  “Take a picture right now while I’ve got my morning-skinny going.”

  Ah, yes. That magical time after a morning trip to the bathroom and before eating breakfast, when Dee was at her absolute least weight of the day.

  “Got your weigh-in today?” Mack guessed. Jay had gotten her in for an initial interview with the modeling agency. As part of that, Delilah was required to undergo a series of check-ins where she was weighed and measured, analyzed for percentage of body fat, and assessed for overall health.

  Following standard locker room protocol, Mack tried not to look directly at Dee. Instead, her eyes fell on the dizzying assortment of creams, lotions, and gels covering nearly every surface. Just thinking about the effort involved in using all that stuff made her tired. If that was what it took to be beautiful, Mack was quite content to stick with her plain-Jane regimen.

  “Yes. And I am freaking out! I gained half a pound this week!”

  Mack’s eyes moved to the pile of satin thongs and matching push-up bras littering the floor. She’d need to sew about a dozen or so of those tiny patches together to cover her bits. It seemed kind of pointless really. A few postage stamps would work just as well and were a hell of a lot cheaper.

  “Wow. A whole half-pound. Should we go tent shopping?”

  “Don’t be mean.”

  “It’s who I am.”

  “Mack, this is serious! What if I don’t get the modeling contract?”

  Mack knew Tish well enough to know that a half pound one way or the other certainly wasn’t going to make a difference, but she didn’t bother to say so. Dee was having a moment and wouldn’t listen anyway. Besides, Mack really wasn’t in the mood to blow sunshine up her ass.

  “So what if you don’t?”

  “What else would I do?”

  Well, that was a good question. Dee really wasn’t qualified for anything, and her princess mentally wouldn’t permit any sort of menial labor. “You have a job at Seize,” Mack reminded her, tacking a silent for now onto the end. After her father returned and took Dee off her hands, Mack really couldn’t care less what she did.

  Delilah actually shuddered, a full-bodied event that rippled from the top of her bleached hair to the tips of her French pedicure. “Man candy aside, you can’t be serious. Doing a Zumba class is hard, Mack. And I perspire.” She said the word like sweating was a bad thing.

  “It is a fitness center, Dee. People go there to work out and yes, they sweat in the process. It’s a good thing.”

  “It’s disgusting. A good cleanse a couple of times a month and daily purges accomplish the same thing and require much less effort. Oh, Mack. What am I going to do?”

  Mack clenched her teeth together and tried to digest the fact that in Dee’s mind, she hadn’t said or done anything offensive. Was there a more self-absorbed person on the planet?

  “Ugh! I never should have had that slice of bread yesterday. Carbs are so evil,” Dee was muttering.

  Mack knew better. “Not all carbs are evil, Delilah,” she said on an exhale.

  “Well, just look at you, Mack.”

  For the briefest of moments, Mack froze. She should have been used to it, but it still hurt. Every freaking time.

  “Yeah, look at me.” Try as she might to stop it, some of the pain came through her voice.

  Delilah huffed, as if she were the one insulted. “God, Mack. You make everything about you. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Yeah, she did. Because Dee wasn’t happy unless everyone else felt like crap. It wasn’t enough that she was every man’s fantasy; she wanted to be every woman’s envy, too.

  Mack turned away from the bathroom and started walking down the steps before she said what she really thought.

  “Hey. Where are you going? What about my picture?”

  Fuck your picture. “Take it yourself,” Mack shot back. “I’m late.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  ~ Nick ~

  The morning after their non-meet, Nick got up extra early with a plan in mind. He hit up Ground Zero and bought two coffees with the intention of giving one to Mack as a peace offering. With any luck, they could share a few moments together before he went into work. Not only did he want to apologize in person, but he also wanted to explain why he’d been late. Jesse’s call was a direct result of his involvement with the teen program, and since Mack had been instrumental in making that happen, he wanted her to feel good about that.

  Mack wasn’t manning the front desk when he entered; a fresh-faced young woman sporting a healthy tan was. He didn’t need his shield to deduce that she was the eloping receptionist. Her radiant glow said it all.

  “Hi! I’m Chrissy. Welcome to Seize!” She spoke quickly and with a natural ebullience.

  “Good morning. Is—” He didn’t get the chance to ask if Mack was around before she barreled forward.

  “You’re Nick Benning, aren’t you? I saw your file. Your two-week trial is just about up. How do you like it so far? You love it, right?”

  “Yes, it’s—”

  “It’s awesome, I know!” She grinned, showcasing a set of deep-set dimples. “Ooo, is that from Ground Zero? They have the best coffee. I stopped on my way in this morning and got their Morning Motivator with an extra turbo shot. It’s a real eye opener!”

  No kidding, he thought, fighting the urge to chuckle. “Is Mack around?”

  She looked from his face to the cup and back to his face, her eyes acquiring a knowing (and approving) gleam as realization dawned. “She was just here a minute ago. Want me to page her?”

  “No, that won’t be necessary.” He grabbed a felt pen from the desk and wrote “Do over?” on the side
of the heavy paper cup, then handed it to the young woman. “If you see that she gets this, I’d appreciate it.”

  Chrissy looked at what he’d written, her smile growing to epic proportions. “I will.”

  Leaving a “gift” for Mack at the front desk was a risky move, but the starry-eyed newlywed receptionist might provide the extra nudge that would get Mack to agree to give him another chance.

  ...Or it could backfire in a major way.

  Regardless, Nick’s instincts told him he’d have to step up his game if he wanted to get to know the enigmatic owner better, and he did, so...

  Sipping his coffee (which was pretty damn amazing), he drove over to the station. He’d already started compiling dossiers on members of the Necromancers MC, but he didn’t recall coming across any information on a “Zeke”. Then again, most of the information was from a few years earlier and sketchy at best. When he questioned Kent Emerson about it, Emerson shrugged and said there was no need because the club kept a low profile.

  Nick wasn’t sure if that mindset was rooted in naivete, ignorance, or just plain laziness. Regardless, his opinion of Emerson dropped another notch. If the guy put as much time and effort into his work as he did into chasing tail, he would have recognized the threat the Necromancers posed.

  Of course, it helped when one knew what to look for. With a few targeted searches, Nick was able to gather enough information to suggest the club was more than an isolated, small-town operation. Within a couple hours, Nick had compiled a list of possible connections to some big names, names that he knew from his stint in Chicago and before that, Seattle.

  He shared some of what he found with the chief, who agreed that the club warranted a closer look. Before he left, Sam commended him on bringing about a peaceful resolution to the Jesse Walker situation.

  “That could have been a real shit show,” Sam told him candidly. “Jesse’s been trouble for as long as I can remember,” adding, “I’m glad to hear his son is taking a different path.”