About a Dog

by Jenn McKinlay

  “Thanks for the ride, the whoopie pie, and the help with the bags,” she said.

  She walked to the door but Gavin strode over to the dresser in the corner. On top of it were some of her favorite pictures of her parents, the aunts, and several of her with her Maine crew at various events in their lives.

  Gavin reached out and picked up one from their high school days. Emma, Jillian, Carly, and Mac were standing on the boardwalk at the entrance to Belmont Park; they were holding cotton candy and popcorn, standing with their arms draped around one another’s shoulders, and they were laughing.

  Mac moved to stand beside him and he said, “Emma has the same picture on her dresser.”

  “Does she?” Mac asked. She traced her finger over the faces of the four young girls in the picture. “We were so young.”

  He put the picture back and turned to face her. “See? Some people do change.”

  Mac looked at him and frowned. “Are you trying to tell me I’ve gotten old?”

  “No, I wouldn’t say old,” he said. “Grown-up, maybe, and you aren’t the only one.”

  His blue eyes were steady on hers and Mac had a sudden epiphany about where he was going with this conversation. The intense look on his face told her more than words that he most definitely remembered their one night together, every single second of it. Uh-oh!

  Alarm bells began to clang in her head so loudly that she had a hard time hearing what he said. She saw his lips moving, but it was like his sound card was broken and all she could get were random words and static.

  “I’m sorry, what?” she asked.

  “I asked you if we’re ever going to talk about—” he began but she interrupted.

  “No!”

  “I think we should—”

  “Dut dut dut.”

  “Mac, we need to—”

  “Dut dut,” she said. She raised her hand in a stop motion. “No, we don’t.”

  Gavin clenched his jaw and she could tell she was infuriating him. Too bad. If they talked about that night then it was real, but if they never talked about it, she could at least pretend that it had never happened, which was about the only way she was going to get through the next two weeks, especially with this hot guy standing in place of the man-boy she had been expecting.

  He took a step closer, putting him well within the periphery of her personal space. She knew she should mind, but sadly she didn’t. She didn’t back up or flinch and when he leaned in close and was just a whisper away from her, she had to fight the urge to rise up on her toes and close the gap.

  “Pretending it didn’t happen doesn’t make it so,” he said. Then he leaned in even closer and whispered in her ear. “Besides, don’t you want to find out if that night was as sexy as you remember? I know I do.”

  Chapter 5

  Gavin put his truck in reverse and started to back out of the driveway. For reasons he chose not to examine too closely, he stopped halfway down the drive and turned back to stare at the porch.

  Smooth, Tolliver, really smooth. From the look on Mac’s face when he’d mentioned wanting to see if the memory of their night together held up, he knew he’d either embarrassed the shit out of her or terrified her or both.

  What had he been thinking? He should have stuck to playing it cool, taking his cues from her, and just seeing where the next two weeks led them. But that was the problem, two weeks was not enough time. It wasn’t as if she had come back to stay. She would be leaving again, and soon.

  After seven years Mac was finally here, but it was too damn short of a visit for him to figure out where her head was without actually out-and-out stalking her.

  Miss Charlotte had broken up their moment by calling them to tea. Mac had run from the room like she was afraid he was going to devour her, smart girl, and when they arrived downstairs, he realized the polite thing to do would be to let Mac visit with her aunts alone. Plus, he needed some distance to regroup. He had known seeing her again would affect him, but he hadn’t really been prepared for how much.

  Through the windshield, he could see Miss Charlotte and Mac sitting on the porch swing, enjoying their iced tea as they rocked back and forth. He watched Mac push off the floor with the toe of one pink sneaker. Her jeans were snug and accentuated the slender curves his hands had itched to get ahold of. Her V-neck white T-shirt was simple but clung in all the right places, and she wore several strands of pretty blue beads on her left wrist, giving the outfit a bohemian style he liked.

  Miss Charlotte said something funny and Mac tipped her head back as she laughed, exposing the column of her throat while her soft brown hair fell past her shoulders to the middle of her back. Gavin remembered being curtained by that hair when she had lain on top of him, smiling down into his eyes all those years ago.

  Her hair had smelled of coconut and ginger, and from then on, he’d always associated those two scents with her. He’d gotten a whiff of it when he hugged her at the train station and again when he’d stood beside her in her room just now. Like a trigger, it had shot him right back to that night, that crazy unforgettable night, and like an idiot he’d decided to mention it to her. What a dumbass.

  It really shouldn’t have surprised him that he hadn’t managed to keep his libido in check. Mackenzie Harris had been scrambling his brain since before he’d even had his first hard-on. She’d been a feature in his mental porn since his voice had cracked and after that one night together, it had only gotten worse. Oh, sure, he’d crushed on other women, sometimes for one night and sometimes for many months, but it was always Mac, the memory of her, that brought him to the razor edge of pain and pleasure.

  After so many years, he’d been positive that the real Mackenzie couldn’t possibly outshine the fantasy he’d created. But he was wrong, so wrong. From the second he saw her cross the train station and heard her husky voice come through the phone he’d held to his ear, he knew he was doomed. If he were Superman, Mackenzie was his kryptonite.

  For a second, Gavin almost shoved the truck into drive and charged the house. The thought of storming the porch, grabbing Mac, and planting one on her just to see how she’d respond was more than a little tempting, but the “dut dut dut” she’d thrown at him like a ninja star made him pause.

  It could be that she didn’t feel the same way he did, and wasn’t that a blow to his male pride? He didn’t like to think it, but he had to respect it. When Emma had told him that Mac was coming alone to the wedding and had asked if he’d mind being her escort, Gavin had felt like he’d just been dealt the winning poker hand. But now, he wondered. Why was Mac alone? She was bright and beautiful and could have any guy she set her heart on, so why was she without the plus one?

  He wondered if she’d had a relationship implode on her recently. If so, he was going to have to tend her just like he did the abused animals that showed up at his practice: with gentle, patient concern and care. He’d already been the man she’d turned to once in a state of extreme emotional distress. This time, if he could get her to give him another chance, he wanted her with him not because she was running from a place of pain but because she wanted him. Just him.

  He was going to have to play this very carefully. They had Emma’s wedding to get through together, and he didn’t want to do anything that would take away from his sister’s big day. He was pretty sure that hitting on the bride’s best friend might just do that. Fine. He’d hover in the friend zone until he got any indication that there might be more. And by indication, he meant he’d be watching for even the flicker of an eyelash from Mac giving him the go-ahead. He was determined that he was not going to lose her again. Not if he could help it.

  Gavin stepped off the brake and continued to back out of the drive. Two weeks. He had two whole weeks to see where things stood with Mac, and he planned to take full advantage of every second.

  • • •

  “Did you read this thing?” Ca
rly asked. She burst into Mac’s bedroom without knocking, without warning, and without any sort of greeting, just like she had back when they were in high school.

  Carly was the fourth in a family of five sisters, so she ate with gusto, moved at light speed, and could outshout just about anyone when she needed to be heard. Survival skills, she called them. Having eaten dinner at her house a few times, Mac knew this to be true.

  Mac was lying across her bed, staring at the ceiling while thinking over, or rather over-thinking, the moments she had spent in here with Gav. Aunt Charlotte had called them to tea, halting whatever Mac would have answered to Gavin’s question about their encounter seven years ago, which was a good thing because Mac’s brain had shorted out and she was pretty sure she would have keeled over at his feet if they hadn’t been interrupted.

  “Mac, are you listening to me?” Carly demanded. She was holding the itinerary Emma had sent them with two fingers at arm’s length as if it were a poopy diaper. “You have to do something about this.”

  Mac lifted her head and stared at her friend. “Why me?”

  “Maid of honor,” Carly said. “It’s in the job description.”

  “I’m pretty sure shotgunning the über-bride’s agenda is not in the maid of honor manual,” Mac said. “I believe I am supposed to be a facilitator of all things bridal.”

  “Well, that’s just wrong,” Carly retorted. She flopped onto the bed beside Mac. “Have you read this thing?”

  “I tried, but she lost me at shuffleboard on the pier at dawn,” Mac said. “Speaking of which, aren’t we supposed to be going somewhere right now?”

  “Jillian’s shop,” Carly said. “To help make wedding favors.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Mac said. “It’s just the bridesmaids, right?”

  “Meaning, are the dudes excused from stuffing organza bags with scented candles for three hundred guests?” Carly asked. She glanced at the itinerary. “Yes, they are playing pool at the Bikini Lounge.”

  “Oh, wow, that bar is still around?”

  “Yes, and it will likely outlive us all. I should have been a groomsman. I’m much better at pool than bag stuffing.”

  “It’s for Emma,” Mac said.

  “I know, but I hate girly stuff,” Carly whined.

  “Says the woman who buys lingerie for a living.”

  “Please, I buy big-girl panties for middle market department stores,” Carly said. “It’s not the glam career people like to think it is.”

  They were silent for a moment, both staring at the ceiling now. Mac was trying to picture what she was going to do the next time she saw Gavin. Considering the fact that when he had mentioned revisiting their past, she had bolted from the room like someone had torched her booty, she had to imagine their next meeting would be awkward at best.

  What if he brought it up again? How was she supposed to handle it? Laugh it off? Pretend to get mad? Jump him? Okay, the last one wasn’t really an option, but it definitely had the most appeal.

  “Hello, Mac, hello.” Carly waved her hand in front of Mac’s face. “Where are you? I’ve been complaining for several minutes and I didn’t even get a grunt of acknowledgment out of you.”

  Mac turned her head and glanced at her friend.

  “Sorry, I was awake napping,” she said. She rolled up to a seated position. “We should get going so we’re not late.”

  “Yeah, we could do that, or . . .” Carly paused while she sat up and gave Mac a mischievous look. “You could tell me what happened between you and Gavin when he picked you up.”

  Mac gasped. “You knew? You knew he was picking me up and you didn’t run interference?”

  Carly gave her a look. “Oh, so sorry, I was stuck in a car with my oldest sister Terry, who lectured me all the way from New York about how my eggs are going to dry up and blow away and I’ll never have children because I am over thirty. Next time I’ll be sure to swing by the train station so you can join in the fun, too.”

  “Ugh, I’m sorry,” Mac said.

  “Thank you, but seriously, how did it go with Gavin?” Carly asked.

  “It went fine,” Mac said. The lie flew out of her mouth before it was fully formed in her head, sort of like a preprogrammed response of politeness to an uncomfortable social situation that she didn’t have to think about.

  She loved Carly dearly and she knew she could have told her the truth, but she did not want this silly thing between her and Gavin to become the focus of their two-week vacation. If she told Carly how truly awkward and weird it had been then it would be a thing and it would overshadow Emma’s day and Mac couldn’t have that.

  “Really?” Carly asked.

  “Yeah, I mean it was initially awkward for a minute because we haven’t seen each other in years, but then it was like no big deal,” Mac said. Being crap at lying, she made sure to make eye contact and hold it and not make any sudden hand gestures that might be construed as a tell. She felt like a mannequin but it must have worked because Carly nodded.

  “Huh,” she said. “I always thought the big dope would be hung up on you forever, but maybe Jane the Pain did enough damage that he’s sworn off women or something.”

  “Yeah, probably.” Mac blew out a breath and looked away. “He did seem a little different.”

  “Well, it’s been seven years. Surely, you noticed what a fine hunk of man he’s turned into,” Carly said. “I mean if he wasn’t one of my best friend’s little brothers I’d start licking him at his . . . oh, sorry.”

  “Yeah,” Mac said. “Been there, did that.”

  Carly laughed. She threw her arm around Mac’s shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze.

  “Listen, as the only person you’ve ever told about the whole Gavin thing, I know how much you enjoy feeling ashamed of yourself, but seriously, honey, it’s time to let it go.”

  “You think?” Mac asked.

  “Yeah, if he’s over it, then you really should be, too,” Carly said. “I mean why have angst if you don’t have to?”

  Angst, well, wasn’t that an interesting euphemism for the pure unadulterated lust that had been coursing through Mac since Gavin leaned in close and whispered in her ear? She’d have to remind herself of that the next time they were thrown together.

  She glanced at the itinerary in Carly’s hand. Oh, goody, it looked like that would be tonight at the Bikini Lounge after candle stuffing. Yay.

  Chapter 6

  The Bikini Lounge was a ramshackle dive that had been in existence in Bluff Point for decades. It perched on the end of the town pier, hanging over the ocean with the stubborn tenacity of a barnacle on the side of a boat.

  The breeze blowing in from the water was cold, and Mac hunkered into her hoodie as she walked down the pier toward the bright blue building at the end. The wooden planks bowed and creaked when she walked on them, and Mac wondered exactly how many people it would take to make the pier collapse.

  “Stop thinking about it,” Carly said.

  “What?” Mac asked.

  “The same thing you always think about when we come here,” Emma said from in front of them. “That the pier is going to collapse on us and we’re all going to die.”

  “I don’t think that,” Mac protested.

  “Yes, you do,” Jillian argued. She was walking beside Emma. “We all know how much you hate deep dark water.”

  “It’s bathophobia, and it’s a real thing,” Mac said, as if that made it any less unreasonable.

  “Which I would understand if you couldn’t swim,” Carly said. “But you can.”

  Mac glanced at the boards below her feet. A knot in the thick wood allowed her to see the churning water below. She felt her hands get slick with sweat. She really only liked the Bikini Lounge at low tide and in daylight; high tide and nighttime made her edgy.

  “Who’s buying the first round?” she as
ked.

  “Me,” Jillian answered.

  “Cool, make mine a double,” Mac said.

  Emma opened the door and ushered them into the dark bar. The smell of stale beer and popcorn filled the air. The bouncer recognized Emma and Jillian and waved them in. He held up his hand in front of Carly and motioned for her and Mac to show their ID’s.

  “Dude, seriously?” Carly asked.

  He gave her a hard stare and she scrounged in her purse until she found her license. Mac had ditched her bag for the evening and pulled hers out of her pocket. He checked their ID’s under a flashlight and then waved for them to enter.

  “Are we at an age yet where we should be flattered to be carded?” Carly asked Mac.

  “No, I think that’s forty,” Mac said.

  “So my desire to kick his butt is justified?” Carly asked.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the big, burly doorman. “Eh, maybe I’ll just sleep with him.”

  “Don’t do that,” Jillian said. “I have it from very reliable sources that his man parts do not match.”

  “Meaning what exactly?” Emma asked. She led them across the bar to the pool tables in the back corner, where Brad and the boys were hanging out.

  “Big hands, big feet, and big nose do not necessarily mean big thrill drill,” Jillian said.

  “What?!” Brad Jameson, Emma’s fiancé, gave them a feigned look of shock. “Jillian Braedon, did you just call a penis a thrill drill?”

  “Oh, yeah, she did,” Carly said. “It’s Emma’s fault. We told her not to talk about you.”

  Brad scooped Emma close and planted a kiss on her. “Aw, honey, I thought we agreed to call it the pillar of creation.”

  Emma laughed and said, “Or more accurately, sleepus interruptus.”

  They pressed their heads together and shared an intimate look that in any other couple Mac would have found annoying, but if there really were such things as soul mates, Emma and Brad were it.