“I have to go. I didn’t record my training notes or check the animals for the night.” She rolled to the other side of the bed and rose, searching for the clothes they’d scattered everywhere.
“I’ll help you.” He rose, too, and dragged on his jeans.
Commando. Again. Yum. She had to turn away. It was too much. He was too much. And how he made her feel?
Way too much.
“I’ll feed you when we get back.”
“No!” She heard the panic in her voice.
“No?” One dark eyebrow arched. “Your stomach was growling.”
“I’m fine. Look, I’ll just go…” She edged toward the bathroom door, clothes bunched up in front of her nakedness.
“Want some coffee before we head for the barn?”
He couldn’t come with her. She needed space. She had to think.
What had she done?
An inner voice mocked. You had too many orgasms to count. You just got nailed by the hottest man ever to cross your path.
Remember Mackey, the crush?
Did she ever. He was so far beyond a twelve-year-old’s imaginings, they weren’t even in the same universe. She closed the bathroom door with a decisive click. Caught her expression in the mirror. Her hair was insane.
She didn’t know the woman in the mirror. Never in her life had she borne that expression of bone-deep satiation.
Coupled with absolute fear.
And if anything, all the girls had underestimated what he was like. Straight-up sexy with a twist of wild. Fierce and powerful. Potent and to-die-for hot.
But also tender. She recalled the feel of lying in his arms in a post-coital stupor.
She’d never felt that safe in her life.
“Coffee’s almost done,” he called out.
She abandoned the musing and threw on her clothes, wishing she had something clean and pretty to wear.
No. She needed to vanish this instant. Walk away. Think. She fastened her last button, then heaved in a deep breath and turned the door knob.
“Here’s your coffee. I’ll just clean up a little and be ready to go.” He headed for the bathroom.
Mackey. Big, bad Mackey. She’d just made love with her girlhood crush, the playboy. The Wild One. And gotten all gooey inside.
Idiot. Mackey didn’t do serious.
“Sure thing.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. If he looked at her again with that tenderness, if he used the gentle touch…
No. Not going there. All of a sudden, her grand plan to just indulge in some great sex seemed the most foolish of notions. Somehow he’d caught her but good. Drawn her into a private world she never wanted to leave.
But Mackey didn’t do safe or stable. He didn’t do long-term.
Recalling his tender gaze and how badly she wanted to see him look at her like that again, she knew even more that this had been a major mistake. That the sooner he was gone, the better.
She took one sip of coffee—surprisingly good coffee—
Then she wrote a quick note.
And fled.
Mackey heard the screen door slam but didn’t think anything of it. She was very responsible. She never slacked off on what she considered her obligations. Rissa demanded much of herself, in addition to being pretty bad at asking for help.
Yeah, make that terrible. Was it because no one ever offered or did it have more to do with how very isolated she was?
She was nothing like the sweet little girl he remembered, the one who—okay, yes, he’d noticed, partly because his buddies had ribbed him—had sort of hung around the periphery and watched him a lot. Back then he’d felt weird, if he bothered to feel much about her at all. He’d been too intent on chasing tail, often older women than the girls he saw every day in high school.
He’d lost his cherry to a waitress at Ruby’s, long gone now. She’d been all of twenty-two, with a husband off driving a truck all the time, and she’d been lonely. He’d suffered a few pangs over the fact that she was married, but had accepted the story that husband and wife didn’t love each other.
Hey, a horny teenage boy didn’t need much encouragement. Plus he could easily buy into the notion of a couple not loving each other. He saw that all the time at home.
Anyway, little Clarissa had been a blip on the screen of his constant search to get laid back then. Even if she hadn’t been Jackson’s little sister, she was a kid, all gangly arms and legs and too-big brown eyes. Carrot-red hair.
She’d grown up. He damn sure noticed her now.
He pulled a t-shirt over his head as he walked over to the coffeepot.
And saw her scribbled note.
Don’t follow me.
I don’t need the help.
I can’t do this.
Mackey’s eyebrows flew upward. Wow. Guess he didn’t need to warn her away, after all.
He was still going to help her with the chores, though. It was his fault she was having to do them so late—and she still hadn’t had anything to eat. His own stomach was growling pretty fiercely.
She wouldn’t come back here with him, though, that much seemed pretty obvious from her note.
Always a man of quick decisiveness, he grabbed some bread, slapped four pieces on the counter, slathered them with peanut butter and jelly, then stuck one assembled sandwich on a paper towel and started eating on his own. A couple of sips of coffee, yank on his boots…
He was out the door about five minutes behind her.
She heard him coming, and all she could think to do was ignore him while she logged in the results of the day’s training.
“You don’t have to talk to me, but you still need to eat.”
She kept her head down. A sandwich plopped onto the desk beside her.
“Coward.” He turned away, his boots striking the wooden floor of the office with every step.
Accompanied by chicken clucking noises.
Torn between laughter and wanting to throw something at him, Rissa rubbed her forehead and kept writing.
Her stomach growled. Her head was indeed light from lack of food.
“Jerk,” she muttered, but her heart ached a little. She picked up the sandwich and took a bite. “Not enough jelly,” she yelled out.
“Tough shit!” he answered from across the barn.
Then he made chicken noises again.
Rissa broke down and chuckled.
Even as tears burned her eyes.
Damn you, Mackey. Do you have to be charming, too? She took another bite, then went on recording the day’s results.
By the time she finished, he was gone, and the rest of her chores were done. She walked out of the barn and glanced over at his little house—Cooter’s house. A light was on in the bedroom.
Memories of what they’d done together in that bed only hours before leaped to life, indelible and thrilling. She longed to go to him. To return to that island of refuge and peace and crazy, soaring bliss.
She was already walking that way when the fear washed over her, head-high and rising. She knew the danger she’d be in if she didn’t proceed carefully.
She’d already learned that just sex with Mackey didn’t seem possible for her, despite her best intentions. If she’d gotten this emotional over being with him in the course of one afternoon, imagine what continuing for a week or two would do to her.
She’d have to be prepared to hurt, probably a lot, when he left her.
As he would.
Maybe pain was better than how dead she’d felt for a long time now, how empty.
But she’d had pain before, boatloads of it, first when her mother had died, then when her dad and Jackson had gone to war after Jackson derailed. When he and Penelope had left, she’d been so lonely and scared she’d thought she would die.
Somehow she’d made it through all of that, through her repeated failures to connect with her dad. She’d found meaningful work that she was good at, and she mostly stayed on an even keel. She and her dad coexisted peacefully most of the time,
and she had her animals. She kept so busy that the days bled into one another.
And she was just existing, she realized. Aside from her work, she had nothing. No one.
But she was safe here. She could deal.
Mackey could wreck all of that, if she let herself take this further. He wouldn’t mean to, but that changed nothing.
Ian, why did I ever say yes to you?
Because he was her only real friend, him and Veronica. Okay, and Ruby cared about her, too, she knew that.
And maybe even City Girl could be tolerated. Possibly even liked…for Ian and Ruby’s sake.
All of that wasn’t nothing.
She’d back off, see how the next few days went. Get her head on straight.
Then maybe the sex could be tried again with no damage to her heart.
She cast one more glance at his bedroom window.
Suddenly he appeared in it, staring straight at her.
She stared back, just for a second or two.
Her insides quivered, and her body warmed. Part of her yearned for him, for the magic he dealt out so effortlessly with hands, tongue, lips…with that gorgeous muscled body she could still feel against her own.
Maybe she could…
No, no, no. Don’t even think about it.
Before she could succumb, she got the hell out of Dodge.
But she could almost hear hen cackling coming from the cottage.
Chapter Nine
Mackey deliberately didn’t go near Rissa when morning came. She’d been clear what she wanted originally and he’d been on board—good healthy sex between two consenting adults.
But something had changed when they’d come together. She was edgy, and he was confused, not a state he was used to around women. No-strings sex, whatever they’d declared, had suddenly become complicated in ways he didn’t understand…and wondered if she did.
He could tease her about being scared, but he was pretty rattled himself.
Good idea to take a break from each other, then. The idea had never been for them to spend every second together. He wondered exactly what Ian’s plan had been.
So he’d fed himself, whipped through the morning chores…and tried not to think, every time he looked at his bed, how she’d looked in it. How her body had felt, entwined with his.
He hadn’t gotten the best night’s sleep after, that was for sure.
So now he was headed to a much-overdue visit to his buddy David’s widow. He remembered Veronica, of course—she’d been in their same class. He recalled that David had had a real thing for her, but best he could remember, they’d never dated in high school. Veronica had sort of floated around the edges, a pretty girl but an elusive one. With that dysfunctional family, though, there were probably secrets to spare.
He wondered now how everyone had been so callous, so clueless about what a horror her life must have been like. Where were the adults when that bastard Vernon Patton was beating his family?
The topic made him think about Eric. The boy hadn’t been around since the rope rescue day. He should ask Rissa if that was normal or something to worry about.
Or maybe he wouldn’t ask her. He’d check with Samantha’s mom. Maybe drop by and see where the boy lived.
Yeah. Meddle in everybody’s business, why don’t you? Just in time to leave town.
Mackey eyed the road with longing. He didn’t really need anything that was in his duffle. He could just keep driving. He was letting his real life become too distant, while all the currents flowing in and around Sweetgrass Springs were sucking him in.
The Butler place came into view then, and it was now or never. Keep driving…or go dip into yet one more entanglement with Sweetgrass.
His buddy David’s face rose. He’d already missed David’s funeral. The least he could do was man up and pay his respects. If Veronica was still so quiet and aloof, well, at least he’d know he’d corrected one lapse.
He turned left and drove toward the house.
He found Veronica trying to lift two five-gallon buckets into the back of the grungiest van he’d ever seen. “Here—let me take those.” He leaped forward and snagged them from her hands.
“What on earth—Mackey!”
He stowed the buckets. “Like that?”
She glanced over and nodded.
“You have more to load?”
“I do, but—”
He paused. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by before.” He cleared his throat. “I’m especially sorry I had to miss the funeral.”
Her smile was soft and sad. “It’s okay. I heard you were out of the country. I—everything was kind of a blur back then.” She glanced up from beneath the wide brim of her straw hat, and he could see clearly how gaunt she was. She’d been slim as a wand back in the day, but now…she was only gristle and bone.
He glanced around. “Don’t you have any help?”
“Some.” She turned back toward the greenhouse. “I get by.” Inside she reached for two more buckets.
He grabbed them. “You aren’t big enough to carry two of these.”
“I just did.” She smiled. “But thank you. Even if you sound just like Ian.”
He stowed those buckets, too, and returned for more. “Let me buy you lunch when we’re done here.”
She laughed a little. “I’m nowhere near done. I have to drive these into Austin for a wedding, and I have to get back before the girls get home from a playdate. Ben has football two-a-days or he could keep them for me.”
“Austin? Long drive.” She’d be three hours, easy. “Let me deliver them for you.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Mackey, I do this all the time.”
“You look so damn tired.”
Her face closed in. “I’m fine. I’m grateful for the business. It’s just…I’m still trying to figure out what I can manage on my own.”
He glanced around him, counting four greenhouses and a whole field of flowers behind them. “Tell me you’re not doing all of this by yourself.”
“Our son Ben is a big help. He’s sixteen now and a very hard worker, for which I’m very thankful, nearly as much as I regret all he’s missing. And the girls do their part. I have some seasonal help for the busiest times. Right now, when it’s so hot, what we have to sell is more limited.” A tiny frown appeared between her brows. “I’d love to be able to put in one more greenhouse, but that’s down the road.”
How the hell had David left her in this position? But she was watching him, her shoulders hunched in defense, and he didn’t have the heart to ask. “Let me do something, Veronica. I want to help.”
“I appreciate that you want to, but it would only be a band-aid. I have to be able to do this on my own or—” She shook her head. “I’d like some iced tea to take with me. Want some?” Without waiting for his answer, she walked toward the house.
Mackey followed, glancing around him at the various other responsibilities she had, a chicken coop, a few head of cattle, a vegetable garden.
She was managing all of this by herself?
Maybe he couldn’t provide a permanent fix, but he could give her a chance for a nap, one she sorely needed, if the dark smudges beneath her eyes were any evidence.
So he followed her inside.
Later that afternoon, Mackey stood back and looked at what he’d accomplished. Veronica had refused that nap she needed, saying she had to keep her customer relations strong by making a personal appearance. He’d left when she did, but only long enough to let her get out of sight.
Then he’d returned, located David’s tools and set to work. He might not know the flower business, but he could weed a garden and mow the grass around the house. He found a feed bin coming loose and repaired that, then set out to see what else around the place needed attention.
Veronica returned just as a minivan turned down the drive behind her. Her face was mingled distress and gratitude when she emerged from the van. “Mackey…”
“Mommy, who is that man?” came a v
oice from behind them.
He and Veronica both turned, and he saw twin girls approaching.
They resembled Beth Butler as a girl so strongly that he did a double-take.
“We saw you!” one girl cried out. “You’re the brave man who rescued Aaron!” She ran pell-mell toward him while her twin held back, choosing to go stand by their mother.
The bolder twin walked right up to him. Craned her neck to see him. “I’m Abby. What’s your name?”
“Abigail…” Veronica chided.
He grinned over at her, then dropped to a crouch and looked at both girls. “My name is Mackey. Pleased to meet you, Abby.” He glanced over. “Would you tell me your name?” he asked the shy twin.
“That’s Beth.”
“Abby…” Veronica began. “Let her speak for herself.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know Samantha, would you?” Your twin in spirit, he thought with a smile.
“Sure we do! She’s our friend, and she likes cats and jump rope and our teacher Miss Samuelson. How do you know her?”
He looked at Beth before he answered, smiling gently. “She lives at Rissa’s ranch, and that’s where I’m staying.”
Beth smiled back, then ducked her head behind her mother.
Abby chattered on, and he tried to include them both in the conversation. Slowly Beth began to join in.
“It’s time for a snack,” Abby declared eventually. “Want a snack, Mackey?”
“Mr. Mackey,” her mother corrected.
He shrugged up at her. He didn’t care about formality.
“They have to learn proper manners.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The girls both giggled. “Mommy, he called you ma’am!”
“If only he were obedient in other ways,” Veronica said pointedly.
Mackey only grinned. “So what’s for snack, Miss Beth?”
“Fruit,” the girl offered quietly. “Because it’s good for us, right, Mommy?”
“It is.”
“We can’t have lots of sugar,” Abby declared, slipping her hand in his. She covered her mouth to speak privately. “But I really like sugar.”
Mackey chuckled, then repeated the gesture. “Me, too.”
Texas Wild: The Gallaghers of Sweetgrass Springs Book 2 Page 11