by Roth, Ann
The man she couldn’t stop thinking about was across the street, only a few dozen feet away. Far too close. Hoping for a glimpse of him, Emmy glanced out the window. Caught herself and turned her attention to pairing up socks. The darned man had filled her thoughts all weekend. Did his thumb hurt and had he stopped at the emergency room, after all? Mostly though, Emmy had mulled over their conversation Friday night, seriously considering what she wanted from Mac. The truth was, she was already half in love with him, which, given that he was leaving and wasn’t looking for a real relationship, was beyond foolish. He certainly wasn’t lining up to be anyone’s father, either.
Even so, Emmy hadn’t changed her mind. She ached for him so much she could barely focus on anything else. The only way to find peace and get on with her life was to give in to the passion.
She’d planned to tell Mac when she’d unlocked the Rutherfords’ door this morning, long before Jess awoke. Not the part about falling for him, but that she wanted and needed to be with him sexually for the few short weeks before he left. Only, his brothers had shown up just when Mac had, and there’d been no chance to speak openly. Worse, she’d had to pretend surprise at his injury.
Emmy hoped to talk with Mac tonight when she locked up—unless Jess came along. If so, she’d call him after Jess went to bed.
She heard her son’s schoolbook plop closed and the scrape of the kitchen chair as he pushed away from the table. She looked up and saw him standing in the space separating the kitchen and living room. His hair stuck out in places, and Emmy knew he’d raked his hands through it while he worked. She itched to go over to him and smooth it down, but wasn’t sure the new, agreeable Jess would tolerate that any more than before.
So she smoothed a freshly folded T-shirt, instead. “Done already?”
He nodded. “Will you quiz me on my spelling later?”
How long had it been since he’d asked her to do that? A good year, at least. “I’d love to,” she said, again marveling at—and curious about—this sudden attitude change. “I’m about finished, too. It’s such a pretty day. How would you like to explore the beach with me? You could call Peter and invite him along.”
“Umm…” Jesse dipped his head and shifted his weight. “I kind of wanted to hang out with Mac and his brothers.”
Worried about Jess making a nuisance of himself, Emmy smiled apologetically. “They’re really busy, Jesse. Maybe later this afternoon.” She handed her son his laundry. “Please put these things away.”
“But, Mo-om. I haven’t been over there since Friday.”
Never mind that the Struthers men had taken the weekend off. Emmy shook her head. “I really think—”
“At least let me bring them some of those brownies you baked yesterday. You know how much Mac loves chocolate.”
Her son almost sounded as if he somehow realized the depth of Emmy’s feelings for Mac. But no, no one knew. She squinted at her eager-faced boy. “Exactly what are you getting at?”
He shrugged. “Mac and his brothers work so hard, even on Martin Luther King Day. Sometimes when I have a lot to do you give me treats. Can I please take over some brownies after I put my clothes away? Then I’ll go to the beach with you.”
“May I,” Emmy corrected.
“May I?” Jess gave her the round-eyed, pleading, puppy-dog look she couldn’t resist. He was absolutely right. Mac, Ian and Brian all had a sweet tooth. They’d certainly wolfed down her cookies after dinner the other night. They’d probably enjoy home-baked brownies.
“All right, I’ll cut them some brownies and you can take them over,” she said. “But only if you come straight home again. I expect you back in fifteen minutes.”
“I have an idea,” Jesse said. “Why don’t you come get me when you’re ready to go down to the beach?”
The funny feeling in Emmy’s stomach whispered that he was up to something. She narrowed her eyes. Her son looked puzzled and perfectly innocent, so she dismissed her misgivings.
Not wanting to see Mac again this morning, she shook her head. “I’ll wait for you here, instead. Remember, fifteen minutes.”
TIM MCGRAW SANG a plaintive song on the portable radio, good for a morning break. Mac poured himself a cup of lukewarm coffee from his jumbo thermos, then sat down on the unstained oak floor, joining Ian and Brian.
Ian whipped out his iPhone and started texting. Brian pulled a book from his back pocket, some nonfiction thing on communication on the Internet. Even though he was through school, he continued to read up on computers. He was quite the geek.
But he didn’t open the book; instead, he nodded at Mac’s bandage. “How’s that thumb feeling?”
Sore as hell, Mac’s penance for driving over here Friday night. For wanting Emmy and for what he’d said to her. For—
“Mac?” Ian waved his hand in front of Mac’s face. “Your thumb?”
“Right. Not bad if I’m careful.”
“Cool.” Ian finished texting and yawned.
“If you don’t quit with the yawning, you’re gonna get me doing it,” Brian said. “Pour yourself some coffee.”
“You’re just jealous. I can’t help it if Rebecca and I hit it off.” Grinning, Ian reached for the thermos.
The girl from the party, according to Ian. And he’d talked a lot about her this morning—they’d spent most of the weekend together.
“Is that who you texted?” Mac asked.
Ian nodded.
“Maybe I don’t move as fast as you,” Brian said. “That doesn’t mean I struck out. FYI, I called Bethany a little while ago. We’re going to dinner and a movie tomorrow night.”
Mac’s brothers high-fived each other.
He listened idly as they discussed what they wanted and hoped for with their new girlfriends. Truth was, he envied them. Their lives were relatively simple. Meet a woman, date her and see where things led.
Whereas his was far more complicated. Even if he wanted to—and he didn’t—he couldn’t get involved with Emmy. Not unless a short-term, sex-only relationship worked for her. From her expression this morning, Mac knew she wanted to share her decision with him. He was eager to do just that, but with his brothers showing up when they did, it hadn’t been possible.
“Too bad you didn’t meet someone at the party, Mac.”
If his brothers only knew. Not about to share what had happened between him and Emmy—if anything really had—Mac shrugged. “Luck of the draw.”
“I thought for sure you and that blonde would hit it off,” Brian said. “If you had, maybe you wouldn’t have sliced your thumb.”
He wouldn’t have had that frank talk with Emmy, either. Or spent the weekend a physical wreck. Thinking about her, wanting her, waiting for today. Then not being able to talk alone.
Hell. If they couldn’t even talk privately, how would they find a time and place to have sex?
“Mac? You’re a million miles away. Again.”
“Guess I was. I’ve been thinking about whether to install the sink first or—”
A forceful knock interrupted him. Emmy?
His gut tight with anticipation, Mac cleared his throat. “I’ll get that.” He scrambled up. “We should get back to work soon, so finish your drinks.”
He set his cup aside. Then as excited as a kid on his birthday, he made his way through the narrow clearing toward the front door. He glanced out the window and saw Jesse out there. No sign of his mother.
Disappointed but also relieved, Mac glanced over his shoulder. His brothers had followed him. “It’s Jesse.”
“Wondered when he’d show up,” Ian said. “Since there’s no school today.”
“Emmy’s at home, too. Maybe she’ll ask us to dinner tonight.” Brian rubbed his stomach. “Too bad you have a date, Ian.”
Wondering if Jess was here to invite them over and not sure he should accept, Mac opened the door. “Hey there.”
“Hi.”
The boy clutched a foil packet that smelled of chocolate. Mac a
nd his brothers eyed it with interest.
“What’s in there?” Ian asked.
Brian sniffed. “Brownies?”
“How’d you guess?” Jesse glanced at Mac and frowned. “What happened to your thumb?”
“I cut it changing a flat tire in the dark.”
“Oh. Was that when…” Flushing, the boy broke off.
Did he know about the other night? “When what?” Mac said, bracing for whatever came next.
“Never mind. I promised my mom I’d be back in fifteen minutes, so I can’t stay long.” Jess held out the package to Mac like an offering. “These are from my mom, and they’re really good.”
The boy didn’t know anything, just wanted to give them the brownies. Mac relaxed.
“Are they just for Mac, or do we get some, too?” Brian asked, sending a speculative look Mac’s way.
“They’re for all of you,” Jesse said. “She put in six—that’s two each. Go ahead, try one.”
“You don’t have to ask twice.” Mouth watering, Mac picked up a brownie, then passed the rest to his brothers. He bit into the moist cake and chewed with relish. “She made these from scratch, huh? Delicious.”
“Your mom makes the best desserts,” Ian added around a mouthful.
Brian polished off his brownie in two bites and reached for another. “Tell her thanks.”
“Okay.”
Jesse glanced at Mac with a questioning expression. He seemed to expect something more from Mac, but for the life of him, Mac couldn’t figure out what.
READY TO LOCK UP, Emmy stood with Mac on the porch. Beyond the yellow halo of light, darkness surrounded them and rain tattooed softly on the eaves. Cozy, but cold, and she was glad she’d pulled on gloves and a scarf.
“The weirdest thing,” she said. “Jess didn’t want to come over here with me tonight. He said he’d rather take a shower, then watch TV.”
Give up the opportunity to say good-night to Mac? He’d never done that before. Puzzling, and coupled with his new model-son behavior, troubling.
Mac shrugged. “He was here earlier. Maybe that was enough. Thanks for the brownies, by the way. They were great. I could’ve eaten a dozen.”
He patted his stomach and smacked his lips, and Emmy laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. You should thank Jesse. It was his idea.”
“Yeah?” Mac grinned. “Any time he wants to bring over more is fine with me.”
“I’ll tell him,” Emmy said, but she couldn’t summon a smile. She was too worried. “Did he seem strange to you?”
“How so?”
“He’s been different all weekend. Cooperative and helpful without my asking.”
“And that’s bad?”
“I’m not sure. It’s certainly unusual.”
“Now there’s a twist.” Mac’s mouth quirked. “Last week you wondered if you two would always argue. Now you’re upset that you’re getting along.”
“I know, but…” Trying to put her feelings into words, Emmy thought a moment. “Something feels off.”
“He seemed okay to me.” Mac sat down on the sheltered top step and patted the space next to him. “Tell me what you’re worried about.”
He looked ready to listen, and Emmy was grateful. She needed to talk to someone who understood kids.
She sat down beside him, the step cold and hard beneath her. “I wish I could explain. Friday night he went to bed happy about the three-day weekend, but still his normal, argumentative self. Saturday morning he walked into the kitchen a different boy. After he brought you the brownies this morning, we explored the beach together. I wanted him to invite his friend, Peter, but he said he’d rather hang out with me. Yet when I mentioned walking the beach last weekend, he snorted and shut himself in his room. On the way home we shopped for fabric for new kitchen curtains. Jess hates waiting around in a fabric store, yet today he never said one negative word.”
Cold despite her coat, Emmy shivered. “Everything I suggested, he agreed to. It’s almost as if he’s afraid that if he argues with me, something bad will happen.”
Mac started to rub his chin with his forefinger and injured thumb. Wincing, he instead rested his hand on his thigh. “I never dealt with anything like that. I’m stymied.”
“Do you think he knows something about us?”
“How could he? There’s nothing to know—yet.”
Leaning back, resting his elbows on the porch floor, he angled his chin in unspoken question. Silently asking for Emmy’s decision.
More than ready to tell him, she didn’t hesitate. “Over the weekend I thought a lot about us.”
“And?” His gaze fastened on her.
“I haven’t changed my mind from the other night. I still want to go to bed with you.”
His eyes went dark and hot. He sat up straight. “How are we going to work this?”
“I don’t know, but Jesse can’t find out. He can’t even wonder. I don’t want him thinking we’re starting a long-term relationship and then wind up getting hurt.”
“I’m with you a hundred percent.” Mac glanced at her mouth. “Do you have to get back right away?”
For once his expression was easy to read. He wanted to be alone with her now.
Emmy wanted that, too. Heart pounding, she shook her head. “By now Jess should be in the shower. He usually stays there a good half hour.”
Mac nodded. “It’s cold out here.” He stood and grabbed her hand. “Why don’t you come inside and warm up.”
Trembling, Emmy unlocked the door she’d just dead-bolted. In the living room she shouldered out of her coat.
The drapes were closed and except for a small table lamp that stayed on all night, the rest of the house was dark. Despite the jumble of kitchen items, the room felt private and even romantic.
The instant Mac closed the door he pulled Emmy close and kissed her.
Chapter Eleven
Emmy tasted sweeter than her brownies, all soft and warm and willing. Her breasts pressed into his chest and her hips molded to his. A great start, but not nearly enough.
Hungry for more, Mac coaxed her lips apart and plunged his tongue into her mouth, mimicking what he really wanted, to get inside her. She responded eagerly, her own tongue restless. She wriggled closer, her hip shimmy teasing him. Killing him. His groin jumped to life, hard and demanding.
Mac groaned and clasped her butt. He couldn’t get enough of her. He backed her up to the wall. Hooked her leg around his so that the most sensitive part of her was open to him. Or would be without the jeans and panties. He ground against her, pleasing them both. Emmy made a sound of enjoyment, tightened her thigh around him and pulled herself closer still.
If he didn’t touch her now, he’d seriously go into shock. He slid his hands under her sweater. Her warm skin was taut and smooth.
Watching her through heavy-lidded eyes, he cupped her breasts through her bra, registering the weight and fullness. With a breathy sound she thrust her chest forward. Mac skimmed his nails over her nipples. Instantly they sharpened and she let her head loll against the wall.
“Oh, Mac,” she whispered. “That feels…”
“Really good?” He stroked again, watching her face open to the sensation.
“Yes.” She strung the word out in a hiss of pleasure.
Her enjoyment was a real turn-on. “This sweater must go,” he said, tugging the hem upward.
Emmy raised her arms over her head. Mac pulled the sweater off and tossed it aside.
“Now you,” she said.
Blood roaring in his ears, he shed his T-shirt in record time.
Her face and neck were flushed with desire, and her nipples prodded the cups of her bra. This one hooked in front. Her eyes locked on him, Emmy unfastened the clasp and slid the straps down. The bra fell away.
Her breasts were round and heavy, with large, dusky nipples peaked with desire. For him. Mac swallowed past a wave of feeling he couldn’t define. “You are beautiful.”
Impatient t
o taste her, he flicked each nipple with his tongue. She quivered and he licked again, then gently suckled and teased each breast until she squirmed and gripped his shoulders hard.
“My legs…I need to sit down,” she said, all breathy again.
Mac glanced at the plastic-covered furniture, all of it piled with kitchen stuff. There was only the floor of the skinny aisle between the door and kitchen, and it was dirty and uncomfortable.
“No place to sit,” he said. Clasping her waist, he lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me.”
“I’m not too heavy?”
“No.” Lowering his head, he again pleasured her breasts with his mouth.
“Dear God,” Emmy moaned, restlessly shifting. “I want to make love with you now.”
What that did to him! He raised his head. “Help me with your jeans.”
The snap popped. He jerked the zipper open. Emmy eased back to give him access. Too bad they weren’t lying down, but this was better than nothing.
With his good hand he dipped under the elastic of her panties. Slid his fingers into her soft thatch, all the while watching her.
Her eyes were closed and her lips slightly open. Need colored her expression and passion flushed her skin. She was the most beautiful woman Mac had ever known. Feelings he didn’t understand or want filled his chest. Spooked, he hesitated. What the hell was he doing?
“Please don’t stop,” Emmy whispered, raising her hips and squeezing her legs tight.
The way she was positioned, Mac couldn’t slip his fingers inside her. But he could reach the tiny, wet nub. He’d barely touched it before she gasped and came undone.
No woman he’d been with had ever climaxed so quickly. He almost went over the edge with her. Somehow he held back.
When her frenzy finally ended, she gazed up at him with limpid wonder. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” And it had been. Even though Mac was hard and aching, almost wild to strip off the rest of their clothes and bury himself in her, for now pleasuring Emmy was enough.
She unhooked her legs, slid to the floor and fastened her jeans. Mac backed up shakily.