Lost in You

by Jules Bennett

  “I am. But I’m hoping you’ll really think about this.”

  Macy swiped her hair back away from her face. She hadn’t gone home this morning to change. She’d merely taken off her flannel and kept on her T-shirt. Thankfully she kept a few toiletries in her small bathroom here, but she’d been out of rubber bands. She’d twisted her hair up once using a pencil, but with the weight of all she had, the pencil had only held for so long.

  “I’m really swamped with the store,” Macy muttered, voicing her thoughts. She might have been looking for excuses, reasons to say no, but the store was a legitimate concern.

  Not to mention, she had her own personal dream she was so close to fulfilling. The social worker had verified all of Macy’s paperwork and fostering had been approved. The home visit and background check had been completed. Macy hoped it wouldn’t be long before she could bring a child in and care for him or her. Her main goal was to adopt. Her father knew of her plans, but that was all. And the only reason he knew was because the social worker did a home visit with him as well, since he lived on her property.

  Diane’s smile didn’t fade. “I understand, but before you say no, at least come to a game or two. Maybe you’ll feel differently.”

  Macy wasn’t sure how she’d feel stepping back into that world again. Would she pick up where she left off? Would she freeze and let that one night consume her? Would the cheers from the stands, the crack of the ball hitting the bat, thrust her back into a time that threatened to cripple her emotionally if she stayed there too long?

  “You were the best player to ever come out of Haven.”

  Nothing like turning that guilt key just a bit more. “So you’ve told me before.”

  “Nobody has ever beaten your school records,” Diane added.

  “I’ve only been out ten years.”

  Diane shrugged and came to her feet. “Like I said, you were the best. I wouldn’t want to pass my girls off to just anybody.”

  Macy stood and followed Diane to the front of the store. Footsteps overhead instantly grabbed Macy’s attention. She wasn’t getting out of here anytime soon because she planned to have an awkward conversation with Liam, which she felt she shouldn’t avoid.

  Diane glanced up. “I heard Liam Monroe was living here. That new resort of theirs is really taking off. Talk around town is they have a killer masseuse and Liam’s food is worth the visit all in itself.”

  Macy nodded and reached for the lock on the glass door. “They’re really thriving. But he’s only living here temporarily, until he finds a place.”

  She hoped. Surely he was looking . . . wasn’t he? Perhaps after last night he was ready to move. Maybe the next time Macy saw Sophie she could casually ask if there were any houses or condos to rent in the area.

  “I’ve heard only positive feedback,” Diane added. “They are really drawing the tourists from Savannah. Looks like those Monroe boys have made something of themselves after all. I worried about them, but their parents and Chelsea would be proud.”

  Macy nodded. “They would. The boys came together for Chelsea, which says so much about the person she was. They wouldn’t have let her dream just die.”

  Diane rested her hand on Macy’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to say no to the job because you’re afraid, but I don’t want you to agree out of guilt, either.”

  Did she think the boys launched the resort out of guilt?

  “Our next game is Saturday at eleven.” Diane flicked the lock on the door and stepped out, but threw a smile over her shoulder. “We have a new stadium you should check out.”

  Once Diane was gone, Macy locked up again. Coaching was a far cry from playing. All the stress was on the coach, as was all the worry for each player. Was she really ready to tackle a bunch of teenage girls with hormones all over the place, boy issues, drama? Just the thought threatened to bring on another headache.

  But Diane had created such a remarkable program that the only girls who tried out for the team were those who truly wanted to be there. Girls just like Macy used to be, hoping for scholarship money to further their education and keep playing the sport they loved.

  Still, the store was a full-time job, and fostering would be as well.

  She leaned back against the door and closed her eyes. The words “no way in hell” kept ringing through her head, but Diane wanted her to think about it, so Macy would. How could she possibly juggle everything? The store was demanding, and provided her with job security, which was a blessing. To add another demanding job to the mix might just be more than she could handle—regardless of her personal issues.

  “Is your head still hurting?”

  Macy jumped, holding a hand over her heart, which nearly thumped right out of her chest. She hadn’t even heard Liam approach. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  He stood there, wearing a perfectly fitted gray T, hands in the pockets of his well-worn jeans. There was something to be said about a man who could make cotton and denim look so sexy. And now Macy knew exactly what he looked like without that shirt on, and that visual reminder did nothing to squelch her desire. She reminisced about the rest of the tattoo that peeked beneath his shirt sleeve.

  “Is your head hurting?” he repeated, taking a step forward.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.” Those dark eyes studied her. “Zach thought you felt bad earlier, too.”

  Without bothering to hide her groan, Macy started past him. “Zach might be stirring something up.”

  Liam’s hand whipped out and gripped her elbow as she walked by. She turned, her face mere inches from his.

  “Is there something to stir?” he asked.

  Unable to help herself, Macy grinned, lifted a brow, and leaned into him. “You tell me. You want to stir something up?”

  Instantly he dropped his hold, but continued to stare into her eyes. “Don’t do that. I’m not one of the guys you date.”

  “You could be.”

  Had she just said that? She seriously needed to stop and think before opening her mouth sometimes. But the man got under her skin and she didn’t like it. She needed control, and she couldn’t let him have the upper hand. Even though Liam was nothing like the guys who’d hurt her, Macy couldn’t relinquish power over her emotions.

  “Apparently you’re feeling better.”

  Liam turned and started walking away. The empty, sickening feeling settled deep in the pit of her stomach. Why did she do that? Why did she treat him like any other guy she’d flirt with—get all sassy and then never talk to him again? Liam wasn’t like those guys; he was absolutely right. And she was a jerk for even thinking for a split second that she could pull this with him.

  But, damn it, he threw her off and she didn’t know how to act. This was completely new territory for her. When had a guy captured her interest in such a way? Even before her attack, there had been no one who stirred up so much in her.

  “I’m sorry,” she called across the store.

  He stopped in the middle of an aisle. The evening sun beamed through a nearby window and Macy concentrated on the flecks of dust floating through the air and not the way Liam seemed to take up so much space in her life now.

  Slowly, she was losing her tight grip where he was concerned and she knew there was no way to stop. All she could do was attempt to hang on.

  “I don’t know what to say to you,” she said to his back. At least he’d stopped walking away, so he was listening. “You act like you don’t want to talk to me one second, and the next you’re caring for me.”

  Still, silence. Her heart beat so hard inside her chest. Macy sighed, tugging on the tied flannel around her waist.

  “Thank you, by the way.”

  Slowly, Liam turned. Macy remained silent, waiting for him to say something, leaving the ball in his court. She didn’t like feeling inferior or awkward, but with Liam things were much more complex—one label couldn’t cover it all. She’d been interested in him for so long, but he’d n
ever shown any interest whatsoever. Not even a little. Then they went their separate ways. Soon after, life intervened, changing them both. But now that they were living in the same town again, could she ignore her old feelings? Possibly, but why would she want to battle herself? Her feelings were stronger, deeper, and heart-pounding.

  Were they dancing around something more? Should she just say exactly what she was thinking so they’d get everything out in the open? They’d had a moment last night, and she’d seen a side of Liam she hadn’t expected.

  Carrying her up the staircase—à la Rhett Butler—was sexy as hell, but she hadn’t been able to fully enjoy the moment considering they’d been in a hardware store and she’d been praying she didn’t throw up.

  “If you don’t pretend, then you don’t have to apologize.” He remained a good distance away, but he still tipped his head slightly to keep his scar concealed from her. “I’m not asking for anything from you, Macy. I’m only in Haven for a job and my family, that’s all.”

  The veiled statement came through loud and clear. She wouldn’t be making a fool of herself ever again where he was concerned.

  “Duly noted,” she replied with a nod. “I need to finish up closing and get out of here. Thanks again for last night.”

  She rounded the counter and started pulling out the credit card receipts from the small binder she kept them in below the register. Liam stood behind her; she hadn’t heard him move away, but she refused to turn and see what he was doing. He didn’t want anything to do with her other than a place to live. Fine. She was a big girl, she could handle this. He didn’t need to come right out and tell her he wasn’t interested. She was smart enough to read between the lines.

  She just wished he didn’t make her feel. What was it that made Liam get beneath her skin? Was it the fact she’d always wondered what, if anything, could’ve happened between them had she not gone away to school and had he not been in an accident? Was it the fact he was broken in ways she could only guess and she recognized another vulnerable soul?

  “It’s not you,” he murmured.

  Macy’s fingers stilled in the midst of sorting the tiny strips of paper. His words hit her hard and she closed her eyes, refusing to show any emotion. But she also wasn’t going to tell him everything was okay when it wasn’t.

  “No, it’s not me,” she agreed.

  “I never want to date or get close to anyone,” he went on. “My family is all I need.”

  Family loyalty. She totally got that aspect, but . . . forever? He never wanted to be close to another person? Clearly he was more broken than she’d thought. Not that she’d call him on it, because he’d surely deny it.

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me.” She concentrated on making neat little piles of receipts, ignoring the way her hands shook. “I need to finish this.”

  “Damn it, Macy.”

  His booming voice seemed to echo in the open space. She jerked, spun around, and spilled those perfect piles right at her booted feet. The man continued to disrupt her life in every way imaginable.

  “Why do you do this?” he demanded, settling his hands on his narrow hips. “You play the wounded card so well without even realizing you’re doing it. I can’t just walk away now without feeling like an ass.”

  “If you want to walk away, do it. I’m fine no matter what you do, and I’m not playing anything at all.”

  Maybe she didn’t sound as convincing as she meant to. Liam dropped his head between his shoulders, then looked back up at her with that tilt of his head. Those dark eyes pinned her in place.

  “You’re not fine,” he countered. The muscle in his jaw clenched as his lips thinned. “You think I don’t see it? You think I can’t tell that you’re hiding secrets you don’t want people to know?”

  Macy crossed her arms over her chest. A little hope burst in her when his eyes darted down to the V in her T-shirt. Not that she thought she was sexy by any means in what she wore.

  “So what secrets are you hiding?” she retorted.

  “I’m not here to share secrets, form friendships, or anything else.”

  Rolling her eyes, Macy threw her hands in the air and bent down to scoop up the receipts. “Yeah, I get it. Family, work. Simple life.”

  “Nothing about my life is simple,” he snapped, his voice growing louder. “If things were simple I wouldn’t want to close this gap between us and kiss the hell out of you like I nearly did months ago. If things were simple I wouldn’t have spent my day at work worried after Zach told me you didn’t look well. If things were simple I’d be in Savannah where I belong and I wouldn’t have to deal with a past I never wanted to revisit again.”

  Slowly, Macy came to her feet, work forgotten. Though silence settled between them, his words still seemed to echo.

  “My life is complicated,” he added, his tone calmer now. “And I can’t deal with any more.”

  Now he did turn and walk away. His heavy footsteps seemed to pound on the stairs. The door to the second floor opened and closed. The resounding snick of the lock was all the exclamation point she needed to know that their conversation on this topic was over.

  But for a moment, she just wanted to stand here and revisit some of the most beautiful words she’d heard in a long, long time.

  Finally he’d admitted to wanting to kiss her.

  If that moment was still in his thoughts, then she had taken up some real estate space in his mind. Maybe he wasn’t immune to her after all. Maybe she didn’t need to flirt with him. Perhaps someone like Liam found a basic woman attractive, one who didn’t wear makeup, didn’t play dress up, and didn’t drive some cute little car.

  Whatever he was dealing with had nothing to do with her. But it was nice to know she was a distraction. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever been a distraction for someone before.

  And now she had to figure out exactly how to handle this situation. Because Liam wasn’t one to buy into her act. She was going to have to let go of her well-crafted self-image and be herself. She hadn’t been that girl in so long, Macy wasn’t sure she could. But baring her true self might be the only way to get him to open up, and for some reason, she wanted him to let go. Perhaps helping him would free her somehow . . . so long as she didn’t have to reveal the darkest part.

  Would her risk pay off or would he throw her attempts back in her face and become even more closed off?

  There was only one way to find out.

  Chapter Four

  “You’re cheating.”

  Phil Hayward laughed as he laid down his cards and raked in the chips, not caring that he took his daughter’s meager winnings. “You say that every time.”

  Macy took a drink of her beer. “That’s because you cheat every time.”

  She loved poker night with her dad. Since they technically lived separately now, she had him come to her house once a week after work. When they were done, he’d walk out, down the driveway and into the back of the garage where Zach had built an apartment. It was weird because Macy had never lived alone. She’d always been with her dad, both in the store and in the apartment above. Other than going away to college, she’d been right here in Haven.

  But now that she had her own place, she rather liked the freedom. She was pretty sure she sucked at decorating, because she’d lived here for about five months and had yet to hang a picture on the walls. She couldn’t stand the thought of putting holes in perfectly good sheetrock she’d be paying for over the next thirty years.

  She might not have been the best decorator, but she had a hand in helping Zach and she knew for sure her house was rock solid with the finest of materials. A little more important to her than the right balance of candles and picture frames scattered around just to be dusted later.

  Her dad came to his feet and groaned. “It’s getting late.”

  “It’s nine,” she countered, sliding the cards together and tapping them on the edge of the table.

  “And I’m an old man. I’ll be sixty in a couple
weeks. I should be in bed at this time.”

  She never thought of her father as old. Most kids always viewed their parents as ancient, but Macy never did. Old always meant death to her, so she never wanted to view him that way . . . especially after her mother passed. She wanted to hang on to him for as long as possible.

  “Sixty isn’t old,” she argued. “And you’re healthy as a horse.”

  “The doctor says so, but I think I’m supposed to moan and groan at my age.”

  Macy laughed as she stacked the cards.

  “How are your migraines?” he asked, gripping the high back on her kitchen chair.

  Coming to her feet, she started placing the chips back into the appropriate slots in their carrier. “Fine now. This last one came out of nowhere and lingered longer than usual.”

  Her father’s silver brows drew inward. “Do you need to go back to the doctor?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’d never tell me if you weren’t,” he muttered. “I worry about you.”

  Moving around the table, Macy threw her arms around her dad’s neck. He was just a few inches taller than she was. She definitely took her height from her dad and her curves from her mom.

  “I worry about you, too, but I promise if I need to see someone, I will.” She gave him a reassuring squeeze and eased back. “Trust me, I hate having migraines. If I get another one like that I may make an appointment to see if we need to change the medicine. I definitely don’t want to have them when I’m trying to take care of a little one.”

  Her father smiled, the creases around his eyes deepening. “Any child you take in will be so lucky to have you.”

  “I requested a little girl,” she informed him. “I just thought that would be easier all around.”

  “Probably so,” he said, nodding in agreement. “Are you sure you can handle everything? I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

  She’d put in hours thinking on this exact subject. But she was more than confident she could do both jobs. “I can do it. Besides, you’re my backup for the store and a built-in babysitter.”