by Piper Rayne
“Good thing I brought those cupcakes you requested.” Gwen went to her car and retrieved a plastic container with a high lid. “Two coconut lime, two banana nut, and two dark chocolate mint.”
“It would be a crime for you to be stuck working in an office when you can make things like this.” Zoey took the box from her friend, ignoring how Gwen rolled her eyes at the comment. They didn’t see eye-to-eye on Gwen losing her big fancy HR job—she saw it as a massive failure, but Zoey saw it as an opportunity. “But they aren’t for me.”
“No?” Gwen raised an eyebrow. “Who are they for?”
“Mack.”
Since Gwen’s eyebrow was already raised, it couldn’t go any higher without flying off the top of her head. “Brian MacDermot?”
“The one and only.”
Nobody called Brian by his real name. He’d been Mack as long as Zoey had known him, which must have been coming up on seventeen years now. She’d met him in the second week of grade four when her big brother, Sean, had brought a friend home from school. To say she’d been instantly smitten was an understatement.
To say she was still harbouring the world’s most epic long-time crush was also an understatement.
“Dare I ask?” Gwen replied with an amused smile.
“I don’t want to go into the safety inspection blind and since that’s Mack’s field of expertise, I thought he could help.” Mack was a construction site safety manager, which was a little different to what the insurance company would require… but safety was safety, right? It couldn’t be that different. “I thought he’d be able to catch things that might trip us up.”
Gwen still had an amused expression on her face, which said she thought Zoey’s reasoning was ninety-nine percent bullshit and one percent bending the truth.
“Shut up,” Zoey grumbled, holding the container close to her chest.
Gwen held both hands up. “I didn’t say a word.”
Was this an excuse to see Mack? Maybe. But did it serve her business purposes to do some extra due diligence? Absolutely. Therefore, as far as she was concerned, that absolved her of any ridicule. Besides, she did value his opinion and she’d welcome any opportunity to have his practical, level-headed input at a crucial stage of setting up her business. It had nothing to do with Mack’s broad chest and warm brown eyes, or the delicious intensity he’d had ever since he was a lanky teenage boy playing footy in her backyard.
Absolutely nothing at all.
Chapter Two
Brian “Mack” MacDermot dragged a hand across his forehead, wishing he’d opted for shorts instead of jeans. Late summer was always like that—just when you thought it was cooling down, you’d get surprised by a scorcher. In addition to feeling the heat, he was dusty and grimy from spending a day on the site of a new multi-residential construction project. His boss, however, looked completely unfazed by the heat and given he was wearing a suit, that was nothing short of a miracle.
“Don’t let Steve get in your head,” his boss, Nick Walters, said as he shut the door on Mack’s Holden Commodore ute. They’d driven to the site together since it was over an hour away, and now they’d returned to Mack’s place so Nick could pick up his car. “He’s got his eye on the deadlines, which I pay him for. And you’re being a stickler for the details, which I pay you for.”
“So you admit to paying us to butt heads,” Mack replied with a snort.
“Basically.” Nick grinned. “I want it done quick, but I also want it done right.”
Mack was the “done right” part of that equation and his relationship not only with Steve but all the project managers could be tense at times. Despite Nick making it clear that they were part of the same team, Mack was the person who highlighted issues and shortcomings, which didn’t always make him a welcome figure on site. Some of that also had to do with Mack’s no-BS attitude. Putting lipstick on a pig never helped anybody, as far as he was concerned, and so if someone had stuffed up, he didn’t hesitate to call it out.
“I appreciate you being hard-headed enough to go toe-to-toe with him,” Nick added. “I know he intimidates the crap out of most of the guys, but he’s a good bloke.”
A good bloke who had to be over six foot four, was covered in tats, and had a beard that wouldn’t look out of place in a motorcycle gang, mind you. But Mack wasn’t the kind of guy who was easily intimidated. He’d been blessed with his father’s quiet yet unshakable confidence, and no amount of bluster would budge him from a decision. Not even Steve getting up in his face.
“I’ve got your back, Nick. I’d never sign off on anything unless I was certain it was safe.”
“Good man.” Nick shrugged out of his charcoal suit jacket and slung it over one arm. He wasn’t wearing a tie, but he still exuded that stylish look that had most women around town—and some guys—going gaga over him.
Mack, on the other hand, knew he lacked his boss’s polish. He was a salt of the earth type who was more than happy getting his hands dirty doing the job he loved, or working on some furniture restoration in his shed. Simple things, maybe, but he liked being good with his hands.
As he and Nick were finishing up their conversation about plans for the following week, the sound of a motorcycle cut through the air. It had a distinctive rumble and Mack knew exactly who was riding up his street even before the bike came into view and he saw the telltale flutter of multicoloured hair from underneath a helmet.
Zoey Hutcherson.
She had a leather jacket on top, but her legs were bare between the hem of a frayed pair of denim shorts and some chunky black leather riding boots. How many times had he told her to put all her leathers on if she was going for a ride? That was Zoey in a nutshell. Reckless. Rebellious. Unafraid of any bloody thing that might hurt her.
But he’d be lying through his teeth if he said there wasn’t something deeply appealing about the sight of her smooth, tanned legs straddling the bike and all that glorious purple, green and blue hair flying like streamers behind her. The girl was heartbreak waiting to happen.
Woman, he corrected himself. Zoey Hutcherson left girlhood behind quite some time ago.
“You might want to pick your jaw up off the ground before she gets here,” Nick said, chuckling.
“I’m not staring.”
“Nah, and wombats don’t shit cubes, right?”
Mack snorted. “Since when are you an expert on wombat excrement?”
“I’ve told you before, young Padawan, I know everything.” Nick clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Yes, in all your three extra years of life you’ve gained so much wisdom,” Mack drawled. “Teach me, master.”
Nick laughed and headed off with a wave. Every day Mack was grateful he got to work for someone he considered a friend as well as a boss. It sure made dealing with the Steves of the world a little bit easier.
Zoey’s bike slowed as she approached Mack’s house and he half-willed her to keep on driving. Half, because only his brain was backing that desire. Other parts of him, namely those of a more southern nature, were hoping she’d bring those sweet legs walking right up to him. That push and pull encompassed his entire relationship with his best mate’s little sister—and it was the very reason he’d never given in to his attraction to her, because the head on his shoulders was the only one that got a say in the matter.
In any matter.
Zoey killed the engine and swung her leg around the back of the bike, leaving Mack’s mouth feeling drier than a summer’s day. That feeling only intensified when she pulled her helmet off and shook her colourful hair, sending it tumbling around her shoulders.
“Hey Mack, I hope it’s okay that I stopped by.” She shot him a smile as she unzipped her leather jacket, revealing a fitted white T-shirt underneath.
He cleared his throat. “Sure. What’s up?”
She stashed the helmet under one arm and opened up a storage box attached to the back of the bike. When she pulled out a plastic container with a handle, Mack raised an eyebr
ow. Why was Zoey bringing him food?
This couldn’t be good.
Her gaze met his, her full lips curving into a wicked smile that confirmed his fears. “I’ve come to seduce you… with sugar.”
Chapter Three
Zoey followed Mack into his house, trying not to stare at how delicious his backside looked in his work jeans. Some people liked guys who wore fancy watches and well-cut suits, but she was a jeans gal through and through. Pair that with strong arms and hands that were a little on the rough side and she was sold.
“We have three types of cupcakes,” she said as she placed the container down on the island in Mack’s kitchen and pulled off the lid. “Coconut lime, banana nut, and dark chocolate mint.”
“Did you make these?” He looked at the items warily.
She couldn’t blame him. She might make a coffee that tasted like liquid gold, but her cooking skills were… well, let’s just say that her old family dog, Minnie, had once spat out a piece of Zoey’s lemon cake, and that dog ate everything.
“God no.” She pulled a face. “Gwen made them.”
“And why exactly are you seducing me with sugar?” he asked, tossing his wallet and phone into the bowl by the front door.
His house was completely open, with only a bedroom, office, and bathroom hidden away behind closed doors. The most magnificent aspect of the house, however, was the view out the back window that showcased the rugged beauty of the Patterson’s Bluff coastline. A perfect azure sky met with deep blue water, and foamy waves crashed against the shoreline below. The squawk of seagulls was a muted soundtrack playing in the background, and the air, even inside the house, smelled clean, crisp, and slightly salty.
“I need your help.” Zoey put on her most winning smile and leaned against the kitchen island, fully aware that the neckline of her top showed off a hint of cleavage. Okay, so flashing some boob might not be strictly above board as far as her “due diligence” plans were concerned, but who could blame her? She might be twenty-five, but she still had not yet given up hope that Mack would notice her one day. “Pretty please with cupcakes on top.”
“Help with what?” he asked, still eyeing Gwen’s desserts. He wanted one, she could tell, but the man had restraint that Zoey would never understand. Seriously, if there were some kind of self-control Olympics, Mack would be a gold medallist in every category.
And Zoey would be the person who got turned into a meme for faceplanting at the starting blocks.
She sucked in a breath. “I’m opening a business.”
“Another one?” he asked with more than a little sprinkling of scepticism.
She deflated. The one downside to having known Mack almost her whole life was that he’d seen all the times she’d tried and stumbled in the past. She’d started and failed at more than one business venture in her life, including making art to sell at markets (too low margin), doing Tupperware-style parties (too much hard selling), dressing up as a fairy princess for kids’ parties (getting the glitter off was a nightmare), and even starting an online business selling custom printed mugs, which unfortunately never took off.
But this idea would work. She knew it.
“Yes, another one.” She nodded. “I’m opening a dessert food truck with Gwen.”
Mack scrubbed a hand over his face, which was not a good sign. It was his go-to move when he wanted to say something blunt and was trying to buy himself a few more seconds to figure out a way to phrase his feedback more delicately. But, to be clear, there was nothing delicate about Brian MacDermot. Nothing at all.
“Go on, say it.” Zoey crossed her arms over her chest.
“Zo…” He sighed. “You can’t bake. And last I was aware, you also couldn’t park anything bigger than that death trap outside. How are you going to run a food truck?”
“Gwen is going to focus on the baking and I’m going to manage the other bits, like running the coffee machine, keeping track of our inventory, doing social media, and booking events like farmer’s markets and parties and stuff.” She reached for one of the cupcakes, opting for the lime coconut because she knew he enjoyed anything with a zesty citrus flavour. “Come on, you know you want to try it.”
Shaking his head, he took the cupcake from her and peeled the paper away from the side. “You caught me in a moment of weakness. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”
Clasping her hands together, hope fluttering in her chest, she watched as Mack took a bite of the cupcake. The mound of creamy icing and the pale, fluffy cake offered no resistance. He groaned as he savoured the bite, his eyes fluttering shut in a way that made it hard for Zoey to breathe. Despite his uptight personality and mastery of restraint, there were a few times over the years when she’d seen Mack lose that hard outer shell for a fleeting moment, and it always made her want him more.
“Good, right?” she encouraged.
He held up a finger. “Shh. Eating.”
She grinned. “See? Gwen has a magic touch in the kitchen and you know my coffee is the best in town.”
His warm gaze met hers. Some people thought brown eyes were boring. Clearly, they’d never seen Mack’s eyes. They almost glowed with shades of toffee, chocolate, and whisky, and coupled with his wavy light brown hair, heavy brows, and full, sensual lips…
Stop lusting and start selling!
“I need to borrow your keen eye so I can get ready for an insurance inspection, and all you have to do is point out all the things that are wrong. You love pointing out things that are wrong! It’ll be fun.”
Mack frowned as he finished the last bite of the cupcake. “Why do you think I love pointing out things that are wrong?”
“Well, that’s your job isn’t it? And I know you love your job. Besides, you’re really good at it.” She bounced on her heels. “Please. It would mean the world to me.”
“Why don’t you get Sean to take a look?”
Zoey snorted. “Because my big brother is about as safety-conscious as a cat holding a flame thrower.”
In spite of himself, Mack laughed. “That’s quite a visual.”
“I love Sean and he’s been awesome with the encouragement side of things, but he’s less good with the actual detail side of things.” She nudged the container with the remaining cupcakes closer to Mack. “Since I only have one big brother, I have to look outside the family for support.”
“And you came to me?”
“Of course. You’re number one on my list.”
That statement was true in so many ways.
Mack’s expression softened like she hoped it would. She had him. He got a kick out of acting like a big, tough grump but underneath the gruff exterior was a heart of solid gold. Always had been. Always would be.
“Fine, I’ll help you,” he agreed with an air of reluctance. “But vehicle inspections are not my field of expertise.”
“I know. Anything you catch will be a big help.” An excited bubble expanded in her chest. “I really believe in this idea.”
“I can tell.” The corner of his lip lifted in a ghost of a smile, but his serious expression was back before she could fully appreciate it. “I’ll come around tomorrow.”
“Thanks Mack, I owe you one.”
She owed him more than one. Over the years, she’d called on him for favours more times than she could remember, always hoping he’d cash in one of the IOUs so she’d have a chance to help him in return. So far, no such luck. But she was the kind of person who prided herself on remaining hopeful no matter what challenges life threw her way.
And knowing she would get to see Mack tomorrow left her feeling very hopeful indeed.
Chapter Four
Mack pulled up in front of Sean and Zoey’s place the following morning, cringing at the sight of the ugly green monstrosity in the driveway. He had to give it to her—for as long as he’d known Zoey Hutcherson, she was never afraid to bite off more than she could chew. She had more balls than a Christmas tree, as his dad would say.
As Mack was
getting out of his car, the front door to the house flew open. Zoey waved with her usual bubbly energy. Her vibrant hair was pulled back into a bouncy ponytail and a long floral skirt sat low on her hips. She also wore a cropped top edged with a fringe that danced across her belly in the most tantalising way.
Good lord, the woman knew how to rev his engine.
For years he’d done his best to swallow the desire he had for her but, with every year, instead of getting easier it got harder. Pun totally intended. The fact that he’d been best mates with her older brother, Sean, since they were kids had nothing to do with it. In fact, Sean had commented on more than one occasion that Zoey’s taste in boyfriends was questionable at best, and that he wanted to see her find a guy who’d treat her right. Mack would absolutely treat her right—in and out of the bedroom.
But that wasn’t an option.
Because Mack strove for certain things in life—steadiness, predictability, discipline, security—and Zoey was the polar opposite of all that. He’d seen what recklessness and abandon could do to a family. His sister was exactly the same, a free spirit through and through. And where had that led? To her running away and him having to pick up the pieces in order to save his parents from bankruptcy.
“Good morning,” Zoey sang as she came over to him, bringing the scent of something sweet and floral with her. “Thanks for coming.”
“Sean home?” he asked, retrieving his tablet so he could document the inspection.
She shook her head. “He’s helping Dad prune the big tree in his backyard.”
Mack raised an eyebrow. Zoey and Sean were super close, in part due to their difficult childhood. Their mother had experienced substance abuse issues for as long as anyone could remember, and their father had dealt with it the only way he knew how—by turning a blind eye and taking off for days at a time. For years, Zoey and Sean had struggled to have a relationship with either parent. Last he’d heard, their mum was living somewhere in Northern Victoria and rarely contacted them. As for their dad, he still lived in town. But according to Sean, they didn’t have much to do with one another.