by Mae Nunn
“I’ve never seen you do that.”
Mac chuckled. “Doesn’t happen often.”
“You’ll probably want to wear them.”
“No. You can have them. I insist—it’s the least I can do.”
“Okay. You twisted my arm.” Jacqueline felt a little bit bad about taking them, but she was so uncomfortable in her dress—the tights and shoes especially. She liked to dress up but always changed into comfort clothes immediately when she got home. “I’m coming to get them.” She hung up and walked to his office.
Mac was up rummaging in the bottom drawer of a file cabinet. “They might be a little dusty.” He held out a pair of gray sweats, a T-shirt and some gym socks.
This was a moment, when, even the day before, she might have kissed him or said something sexy. But her boldness was gone. And she could tell he felt the distance, too. In the way he handed her the clothes, the way he didn’t touch her, the way he averted his eyes. He was kind, warm even, but not intimate.
Something had shifted and Jacqueline knew what it was, knew it was her fault. She had hurt him. He had offered her the most important thing in his life—his family—and she had balked. Did she make a mistake by being honest? She didn’t know. But one thing she was sure of. It was going to be a very long night.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AFTER JACQUELINE TOOK the clothes from his office, Mac tried hard to concentrate on the numbers in front of him, without much luck. It was bad enough that he had rushed her into meeting his family and scared her away, possibly forever. But as he burned with desire, imagining what she was doing in the bathroom, the svelte sweater dress coming over her head, the stockings melting off her long, lean legs... Stop it. Just stop. You’ve already gone too far in that department, too. Get yourself under control.
Numbers were sure and steady. That’s what he always liked about them. They weren’t ambiguous or layered with meaning. As thick, detailed and difficult as it was, the Texas tax code made sense to Mac. As long as he did what it said, he could count on a certain result. It was predictable. That’s exactly what Mac wanted to be, too, and how he meant to live his life. Kilgore was safe, his brothers were safe and his work was safe. It was only when he deviated into other areas that he got into danger. Such as this thing with Jacqueline. He regretted he was already in too deep to be able to minimize pain. Would he ever learn his lesson?
His phone buzzed with a text from Hunt.
Hunt: You stuck at the office?
Mac: Yep. You and G okay?
Hunt: We’re good. The magic of working from home. No one can get here, and we can’t get out. It’s a stay-cation!
Mac: Well, good for you.
Hunt: What about Jacqueline?
Mac: What you mean?
Even though he knew what Hunt meant.
Hunt: She there?
Mac: Yes.
Hunt: Hmm.
Mac: Hmm nothing.
Hunt: Hmm...awesome.
Mac: We’ve got plenty of work to do, gutter brain.
Hunt: lolololololololol
Mac: You are impossible.
Hunt: Well, don’t work too hard!
Mac: Thanks for your concern.
Hunt: You kids have fun...
Mac heard Jacqueline come out of the bathroom and pad down the hall to her desk. She must be wearing the socks, he thought. He forced himself to turn back to his work and finish the packet he was working on for one of Joiner and Stella’s employees, Jacob Hunnicutt. By the time Mac was done, his stomach was growling. He walked to the front and handed the packet to Jacqueline. “Here’s one more,” he said. “You don’t have to do it tonight or anything.”
She grinned sheepishly.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“I hadn’t really thought about eating,” she admitted. “But thanks for reminding me. Now that you mention it, I think I’m starving.”
“Let’s go see what’s in the refrigerator.”
The small kitchen/lounge area was adjacent to the front desk. It was here Jacqueline made the coffee that Mac drank all day. There was a sink and a fridge where they occasionally kept snacks or whatever they brought for lunch, as well as a microwave and small table.
Mac opened the fridge and they stared into its blank, white space. “Uh-oh,” he said.
The only thing they could see was a gallon of milk, half-empty, which he used for his coffee. In a drawer, they found an assortment of condiments—packets of mayonnaise and mustard—apparently left over from a long-ago group picnic or luncheon. Mac opened the freezer hoping for a miracle. The only spot of color was a red box labeled Salisbury Steak with Vegetables. The picture looked encouraging.
“Thank you, Ella!” Mac exclaimed, so glad his former assistant had forgotten to take it with her. He read the label. “Four hundred and fifty calories. That’s two hundred and twenty-five each.” He grinned at Jacqueline.
While Mac opened the frozen dinner, Jacqueline scavenged through the cabinet. “Hey! There’s popcorn.” She held up two packages. She also found two each of plastic forks, paper plates, napkins and cups. She filled the cups with tap water and set the table, such as it was. Mac winked at her as he placed the tray in the microwave and turned it on. “I did promise to make you dinner, didn’t I?”
“You did. I’m really looking forward to this.” She plopped down in one of the chairs. He couldn’t help but notice how adorable she looked in his sweatpants and T-shirt.
“Those clothes swallow you whole.”
She raised her arms. “They’re really comfy. Thanks again for letting me borrow them.”
“I’m just glad I had them here.”
“I wish you had another pair, for you.”
“Oh, I’m okay.” At least he’d worn jeans to work, and a flannel button-down, instead of dress pants and a tie.
When the microwave dinged, Mac took out the tiny dinner and placed it on the table. Using a plastic knife, he tried to cut the steak down the exact middle.
“I don’t think I can eat much of that,” Jacqueline said, cringing.
He shot her a questioning look.
“I’m not so good with mystery meat.”
“Ha!” He sawed at the steak. “Well, with my brothers and me, my mom always had the rule that if one of us divided something we were sharing, the others got to pick. So you can pick which half of this delicious Salisbury steak you want.”
She pointed to the smaller portion, and he placed it on her paper plate. Then he gave himself a spoonful of vegetables and pushed the remainder, which was most of them, in her direction. “Bon appétit!”
They ate in silence, the miniscule meal not taking long.
“Yum, yum!” Mac said as he pushed back from his paper plate. “That was tasty!”
Jacqueline laughed, a sound he found addictive. “So. What should we do now?”
“I have an idea,” Mac said, rising. He went into the foyer, a cozy area between the front desk where Jacqueline usually sat and the front door. Underneath the foyer’s big window, where they first stood to watch the ice earlier that day, was a brown leather couch where clients could sit and wait if needed. Mac scooted it across the floor, up closer to the counter overlooking Jacqueline’s desk.
“Would you mind logging off?” he asked her, pointing to her computer. “I’m thinking we’ll move your monitor here, and we’ll pull up a movie. You can pick out a movie we can watch. Sound good?”
“Sure. Sounds fun.” Jacqueline logged off her computer and helped position the wires so the monitor could be moved.
Mac logged in to his account and then gave her the reins. “Just scroll through here.” He tried to ignore the feeling he had when their hands touched inadvertently on the mouse.
“The Man from Snowy River?�
�� Mac snickered. “Really?”
Jacqueline’s eyes narrowed. She looked offended. “Have you seen it?”
“About a hundred times. I love this movie. It just surprises me that you do, that’s all.”
“Why? Did you think I’d pick a chick flick?”
Mac set the volume controls on the speakers and invited her to come and sit with him on the couch. “No. I mean, I don’t know. I had no idea what you’d pick. I just never would have expected this one.”
“Believe it or not, it’s my grandmother’s favorite movie. I’ve watched it with her, at her house. Brings back good memories.”
“Well, bring it on.” It brought back memories for him, too. All of his brothers loved it.
“Mac?”
He stretched out his legs in front of him, kicking off his cowboy boots. “Uh-huh?”
“How about that popcorn?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SNUGGLED AGAINST MAC’S barrel chest, with his strong arm around her and the scent of leather mingled with buttered popcorn, Jacqueline felt almost completely at ease. She wondered if this was what peace was—this feeling of safety and security even in the midst of a storm. Could the feeling last? The movie, although a little silly in places, was wholesomely romantic. And more than that, it conveyed a sense of home. But everything was so much simpler in movies. How would she really know when she was home?
“Mac, what are you thinking about?” she asked when the movie was over. He’d become so still she thought he might be asleep.
“Stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“You. Me. Life. Pain.”
She sat up, peering into his eyes. “Is that all? Just those light subjects?”
He laughed, but it was a hollow sound.
“Talk to me.”
“I don’t know what’s got me thinking about this, Jacqueline. Maybe it’s Stella and Joiner’s ordeal.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you that she could have died, right? How she told Joiner he was her dream? And then how he collapsed in my arms sobbing when they wheeled her away to surgery?”
“You told me some of it, but no, I don’t think I realized it was that intense.”
“It was, and it was terrifying.”
“I’m sorry they had to go through that. But everything seems good now. Right, Mac? Isn’t everything fine?”
“Yes. Thank God. It is, but it might not have been.”
Jacqueline didn’t know what to say. She sensed there was more below the surface. More that he needed to say, so she waited.
He cleared his throat. “I was engaged once. Right after college. To a girl named Hope.”
Jacqueline took his hand, patting it. “I love that name.”
“You’d have loved her. She was studying to become an elementary school teacher. Had a dream of helping kids. But six months before our wedding she found out she had a brain tumor.”
“Oh, my goodness.”
Mac looked as if he were staring into an abyss. “It happened so fast, just took her down. She died on what would have been our wedding day.”
“God in heaven.”
Mac snorted. “Kind of made me question whether there was one, for a while. But not for long. I needed God too much.”
“Oh, Mac. I had no idea. I’m so sorry.” Tears stung her eyes. What a tragic love story.
He looked at her suddenly. “I really hadn’t planned on caring for anyone like that ever again. It’s too painful when it ends.” He tapped the end of her nose with his index finger. “But then you walked through my door.”
“And wreaked havoc on your well-ordered life.”
“Yes. Precisely.” The corners of his lips turned up.
“Is that why you’re mad at me?”
He flinched as though she’d slapped him. “Mad at you? Are you kidding?”
“Surely you can feel the distance between us. It’s been there since last night.”
“I feel the distance, and it goes both ways.” Mac ran a hand through his hair. “But I’m not mad at you. If anything, I’m mad at myself.”
“Why?”
“For letting myself get too close to you, too fast. For rushing you.”
“I don’t feel rushed.”
“You seemed like it last night.”
Jacqueline took a deep breath and exhaled. “No, not rushed, exactly. Just—I feel things coming to a head, to a point of decision and possible change for me. And I guess that’s scary.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m a nomad. That’s my comfort zone. Even though it’s never brought me a lot of peace, it’s the life I know.”
Mac nodded, seemingly trying to understand.
“So here I am, simply passing through, trying to sell some land for my parents while I’m between assignments with KARIS. I get this job, where I’m learning new stuff and using my dormant math skills, not to mention falling in love with my superhot boss.”
Mac reddened. “Superhot? I like that.” He smiled.
“You’re the perfect gentleman, too.” She laughed. “But being with you—pursuing a relationship with you—I guess I faced this last night. It requires me to change my total way of thinking.”
“How is that?”
“Well, you’re so grounded.”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” His eyes crinkled around the corners.
“No, no, no. Not at all. I love it about you.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know that there is a problem. I just want to be able to say I’m ‘all in,’ if that time ever came when you wanted me to be.” Jacqueline wished she could backpedal out of what she’d just said, but Mac seemed unfazed.
“What would keep you from being ‘all in’?”
“You know, it’s weird, but my parents have this idea that settling down is like selling out. It’s boring to them. Conventional.”
“Do you agree?”
“No, certainly not in the sense that I judge anyone who chooses that life. I think it’s great and admirable.”
“But you don’t know if it’s for you.” Mac’s words hung in the air between them like an iron curtain.
“I want to be sure, but I’m not.” She bit her lip. “Yet.” She thought back to Therese’s message, and the possibility of relocating and immersing herself in another culture, of helping children in need. The pull of her work was strong. But was she using it to run from the intimacy of putting down roots?
Mac looked away, clasping his hands together over one knee.
“Let’s go back to your issues,” Jacqueline suggested, making her voice perkier than she felt.
“Let’s not.”
Jacqueline probed. “When you were thinking about us, and life, and then you told me about Hope, what was your meaning?”
“I guess I’m scared, too, to be honest.” Mac turned back to her, eyes flaming and intense.
“What are you afraid of, Mac?”
“I don’t need to tell you all of this, Jacqueline. I don’t want to create any more pressure.”
“Tell me,” she urged.
Mac groaned. Then he started spitting out words as if they tasted bad. “I’m afraid of you leaving. I’m afraid of you not leaving. I’m afraid of you being bored with me, with Kilgore, with an ordinary life. I’m afraid of the ways I’m changing because of you. Afraid of being happy. Afraid of life’s possibilities. Afraid of bad things happening. I’m afraid of pain. Okay? There, I said it. I just don’t want any more pain. Not for me or anyone I love. And I know how ridiculous that sounds and I know I can’t control everything. But those are my issues, since you wanted to know so badly.”
Jacqueline
paused. Then she grinned. Then grunted. “Sheesh!”
He picked up a throw pillow and threw it at her, hitting her softly in the chest. She hurled it back at his head as hard as she could. After he recovered, he grabbed her wrists, wrestling her onto her back and hovering above her on the couch. “Sheesh, you say?”
She giggled and squirmed. “Yeah. You’re one messed-up dude.”
“A messed-up dude, you say?”
She pursed her lips and nodded, batting her eyelashes.
He narrowed his eyes to slits. “Well, I’d say you’re pretty nutty yourself.” He bent toward her, then kissed her gently on the lips. She inhaled the scent of leather. Releasing her wrists, he kissed her again, and her fingers lost themselves in his hair.
“Maybe that’s why we get along so well,” she whispered into his ear.
Mac moved to lie on his side, sandwiching his long frame between her and the couch. This made her laugh, and he buried his face in her throat, covering it with kisses as though he was trying to drink in the sound. Finally, he found her lips again. She turned on her side to face him, and they lay like that for a long moment. Mac gazed into her eyes longingly. She couldn’t imagine wanting him more. He cupped her face and kissed her, then stopped himself abruptly.
“What are you doing, weirdo?” she asked.
“Protecting your honor. And mine.”
“Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Mac rose from the couch and found his coat on the stand. Retrieving the pillow she’d thrown at him from where it landed on the floor, he made himself a pallet on the floor beneath her. Then he turned out all of the lights, except for the one in the bathroom, and left the door slightly ajar. He covered her with her coat, tucking it around her.
“Good night, Jacqueline.”
“Good night, Mac.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SINCE THE NIGHT of the storm, Mac had experienced a strange duality in his relationship with Jacqueline. Because of some of the things they’d shared with each other, he felt closer to her than ever. On the other hand, because he felt they needed to slow things down emotionally and physically for both of their sakes, he made a conscious effort to do that, to be more disciplined in his interactions with her so as to give their relationship the space it needed.