What a Woman

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What a Woman Page 24

by Judi Fennell


  Jared ran the rest of the litany in his head: ass, dork, jerk, minion . . . They’d had the same running comments for years. And in the end, the bet always won out. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to bet when Mac’s involved.”

  “If you want to get a chance with her, then you better make sure Camille is gone.” Liam held the bottle to his lips. “I’m not budging on this.”

  Jared looked at him. They might be friends, but Mac was Lee’s sister. The guy was dead serious.

  Shit. This was a no-win situation unless he came up with something.

  “Do we have a deal?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “I love my sister, Jare.”

  Yeah, Jared got that. “Well Mac has to forgive me first. She sorta has to be in on this for it to work.”

  “Oh it’ll work. You leave that to me. But remember, friend or not, you hurt my sister, I’m going to have to hurt you. And in your condition,” Liam nudged his injured leg with his foot, “that’s not going to be hard to do.”

  Lee had that right. Mac not wanting to give this a shot would do a more effective job than her brother ever could.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  SORRY, Mac,” said Liam when he opened his front door for their dinner, “but Cassidy’s not here. She had to work.”

  “Work? She has a job?” Mac held out the plate of brownies she’d confiscated from Jared’s stash. She could bake brownies as well as any of the Maeves or Renees or Juliettes of the world, but why bother when Jared had more than he could eat?

  “Yeah, she, um, does some commission work.”

  “Commission? For what? Personal shopping?”

  “Hey, cut her some slack, okay? She’s not like that.”

  Mac followed Liam toward his kitchen, wondering who he was talking about. The Cassidy Davenport she was familiar with had been known to keep local designers in business on one shipping trip alone. Other than that, the woman wasn’t qualified to do much of anything other than look good in front of the cameras and spend her father’s money. Money Mac wanted a piece of now that she’d offered to return Bryan’s client’s money and Tina had called out sick for the next few days. Mac couldn’t afford to pay someone else to pick up the job, so she was going to have to do it.

  Mildred’s project just got put on the back burner, but at least Jared was there to keep it moving forward.

  “So what are we having?” Mac hiked herself onto one of Liam’s barstools and told her stupid hormones to quit crying that they wouldn’t see Jared for a while. That was a good thing.

  “Your choice of Gran’s beef stew, Gran’s lasagna, or Gran’s mac-n-cheese.”

  Mac smiled and linked her fingers on the countertop. “Yes, please.”

  “Yes? To what?”

  “All of them.”

  “All? Geez, Mac, don’t you ever eat?”

  “I do, but I finished the food she made me.”

  “So now you’re hitting my stash?”

  “You offered.”

  “Good point.”

  He walked around his kitchen, getting out the food, warming it up, plating it . . . Gran had taught them to be self-sufficient. Her brothers were going to make some women very happy. And if Gran had anything to say about it, that’d be sooner rather than later.

  She picked up her fork when he set the plate in front of her. “So, about Cassidy, Lee—”

  “I don’t want to talk about Cassidy.” He pulled his bar stool around the end of the peninsula and sat.

  “But we have to. I have to figure out how to handle this thing with her father.”

  “You just say, ‘yes sir,’ and sign on the dotted line. No conflict. If he does ask, you say that she’s staying here. End of your involvement.” He put a slice of lasagna on his plate.

  Mac scooped some of the mac-n-cheese. No one made mac-n-cheese like Gran. “So then why invite me over if you wanted to keep me out of the Davenport loop? Having dinner and getting to know his daughter seems counterproductive.”

  “I, ah, had an ulterior motive.”

  Mac set her fork down, the mac-n-cheese going stale in her mouth. “An ulterior motive?”

  “Yeah.” Liam waved his forkful of lasagna around. “I want to see how you beat us at poker.”

  “See how—Are you saying I cheated?” The correct terminology was going to be very important for her indignation. She speared some more mac just for appearance’s sake.

  “No, you wouldn’t cheat. But I’m having a hard time believing that you could come in cold and beat the three of us. You had to have a system.”

  “Newsflash, big brother: It’s all in the draw of the cards.” Which, really, it had been. “Unless you’re going to accuse me of some fancy prestidigitation?” Which she hadn’t done.

  “No, it’s just . . .”

  “Did Jared put you up to this?” Jeez. Just when she thought he might have changed.

  “Jared had nothing to do with this.” Liam set his fork down. “Let’s play a few hands. I want to see you win.”

  Mac scratched her nose. She’d say he had something up his sleeve, but he was wearing a basketball jersey that didn’t have sleeves. If she refused, he’d have grounds to question her. If she played, she could lose and dispel his suspicions. And she might even lose for real.

  This was a no-brainer. “Okay. Fine. Whatever. But when I beat you again, are you going to say I cheated?”

  “Not unless you do.”

  She won the first two hands, then lost in the third. There. Suspicion averted.

  Lee tapped the long edge of the deck on the counter. “So, did you let me win that one just to prove your point?”

  “Do you really think I’m that devious?” She crossed her fingers beneath the ledge. She actually hadn’t let him win that last hand; she’d lost fair and square. Just like she’d won the first two. It was difficult to count cards when there weren’t many being played.

  “No, Mac, but no one can be as lucky as you were to beat the three of us with the stakes that high.”

  “What’ll convince you that I didn’t do something? You want to bet something so I won’t ‘lose on purpose’? Like, say, loser has to clean for a month?”

  Liam leaned onto his elbows, studying her. Mac wished she could take the offer back. This was a no-win situation. She had to win because she didn’t have time to clean for him for a month, but winning would only prove Liam’s case.

  Liam sat back and tapped the cards on the counter. “Okay, I’ll take the bet, but I want to amend it since I don’t need you to clean my place.”

  “Fine. What do you want to wager?”

  “A date.”

  “Seriously, Lee, that’s probably as illegal as us getting married.”

  “Not with me, runt.” He flicked a couple cards at her. “I want you to go out with a friend of mine.”

  For a second, she thought he meant Jared. But of course he didn’t; he knew how she felt about Jared. Lee might want to beat her, but he wouldn’t humiliate her. “A date. So what are we talking? A long bike ride? A movie? Just dinner . . . what? How long do I have to be in this guy’s presence?”

  “Dinner’s fine.”

  “Who is he? Do I know him?”

  “He’s a friend. And he’s interested. Let’s leave it at that because if I don’t win, I don’t want to embarrass him.”

  She looked at Liam. That was nice of him, and if he was okaying this date, the guy had to at least be decent. Liam would never set her up with a troll.

  “Just dinner?”

  “Just dinner.”

  She didn’t want to take the bet. Blind dates were awkward and uncomfortable and carried a whole extra set of expectations. But if she didn’t, Liam wouldn’t let up about her poker-playing abilities.

  She sighed and said, “Fine,” even th
ough she didn’t want to have dinner with anyone. Not if it couldn’t be Jared.

  * * *

  DINNER’S tomorrow night.” Liam dragged the “pot” of toothpicks toward him when he won the hand. “He’ll pick you up at six.”

  “Who’s going to pick me up?” She gathered the cards and organized the deck. “I don’t get a name?”

  Liam shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t want to embarrass the guy. He might not show.”

  Something was up. It wasn’t like Liam to be this cagey. She thought about calling him on it, but since he’d stopped insisting she’d had “a system,” she didn’t want to rock the boat.

  She set the deck down in front of him and tapped the top card. “Fine. Dinner tomorrow. That’s it then, right? We’re even after that?”

  Lee picked up the deck and got off his barstool to put the cards in the drawer by the fridge. Mac thought she caught a grin before he turned away.

  “Oh I don’t know, Mac. You might end up owing me big time.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  JARED was standing on her front step with a crutch under one arm and a bouquet of flowers in his other hand.

  A bouquet of daisies.

  “You?” Mac almost closed the door in his face.

  Almost.

  Jared held up the flowers. “Hi, Mac.”

  She took them instinctively because she was trying to wrap her brain around the fact that not only must Jared have told Liam he was interested in her, but Liam had obviously given his blessing.

  Or had he? Maybe this was payback for the bet?

  “You might want to put them in water. No sense having wilted daisies.”

  “What?” If it was payback, she wasn’t going to give either of them the satisfaction of seeing her sweat.

  And if it wasn’t, well, then she might let Jared see her sweat.

  Really?

  She shook herself mentally. Getting way too ahead of herself. Right now she just wanted to get through dinner. “Oh. Right. Hang on.”

  She headed toward the kitchen, then realized she’d left him standing on the threshold.

  She turned around. “Come in. It’s not like you don’t know your way around.”

  Maybe not the most hostess-with-the-mostest graciousness, but then, she wasn’t feeling the mostest of anything right now. Except maybe confused.

  “I can hear you thinking, Mac,” Jared said from the living room.

  “You can’t hear anyone thinking. That’s not possible.”

  “Not true. The silence is so loud it’s deafening.”

  She poked her head out from the kitchen. “You can hear silence? We’re going to want to get you to the CIA because I’m sure they’ll find your superhero power quite handy.”

  He smiled that damn sexy smile. “So you think I’m Superman?”

  She rolled her eyes. She might have been infatuated with him, but she’d never been blind to his ego.

  She put the daisies in a vase and smiled. Jared had brought her daisies.

  Does that mean he gets a kiss at the end of the night like Dave? And since he brought your favorite flowers, maybe more?

  Geez, her conscience needed to give it a rest. Let her enjoy the evening.

  As long as you don’t enjoy it too much. Do we need another broken heart here?

  Valid point.

  And, besides, she needed to find out what was up with this date. Jared couldn’t suddenly be interested just because he was bored and alone, and think she was going to go along with the program. And she needed to be sure she wasn’t superimposing her teenage wants and dreams on her grown-up ones.

  Well, she already knew she wanted him; that was just plain chemistry. She’d never doubted that for a second. But the rest? That was still to be decided. She had to keep everything in perspective.

  But Jared made it difficult. He opened the car door for her, held out her chair, deferred to her for her meal selection . . . And after they’d ordered, he stood when the music came and held out his hand, the one crutch he’d brought with him leaning against his chair. “May I?”

  “You want to dance?”

  “Absolutely.”

  It was a slow number. Mac wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  But she did know she wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity.

  He slid his hand around her waist. “Any chance I can get to hold you, Mac.”

  The words made her melt, as if her teenaged dream had waltzed out of her brain and into her body. But what she was feeling was definitely not teenaged. And definitely not a dream.

  His fingers moved against her back. Slightly, but they lit a fire under her skin that she couldn’t ignore. His breath was warm against her temple and his chest brushed hers just enough to tease. She should have worn a loose-fitting top because, another couple of dance moves, and it was going to be very obvious that there was some serious chemistry between them.

  The twirl, pull-in, and dip were those moves.

  When he dipped her, Mac couldn’t look away. His green eyes were staring into hers so intently it was as if he could read her thoughts.

  “God, you’re beautiful, Mac.”

  She’d say the same thing about him—if she could speak.

  He set her upright and put his lips against her ear. “I want to kiss you, you know.”

  She knew she wanted him to—which was exactly the reason he couldn’t.

  “No.” She took a step back.

  He let her. But he didn’t let go.

  And she didn’t make him.

  Jared squeezed her fingertips. “If I promise not to, will you finish this song with me?”

  If he promised not to, she might cry, but since she was the one who’d put the brakes on, she’d just have to deal.

  “Mac?”

  She nodded and took that step back into his arms.

  “Too fast?”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you this quiet.”

  She smiled against his chest. “I thought you were the one who could hear silence?”

  “I’d much rather hear what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

  No he wouldn’t. It was a jumbled mess of the past and the present colliding, and even she didn’t want to hear it.

  “Mac?” He pressed her a little closer. “Say something. I’m feeling a little out of my league.”

  She didn’t have a clue what to say. Hell, she didn’t have a clue what to think. Right now, she just wanted to feel and enjoy and let everything take care of itself.

  “Mac?”

  She wracked her brain to come up with something coherent. “Our dinners are here,” was the best she could do.

  Jared pulled back and scanned her face, then he smiled that grin that was hot enough to melt silk.

  Which she was wearing.

  Under her dress.

  “We’re not finished with this conversation.” Jared led her back to their table, her fingers firmly entwined with his, his limp more pronounced the closer they got to their table.

  She scooched her chair in so he wouldn’t have to help her and risk setting her skin on fire any more than it already was. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

  “You didn’t like it?” He slid into the seat beside her, then flicked his napkin into his lap. “I thought it was nice. A lot more than nice, actually.”

  “I just meant . . . your leg. Should you be taxing it like that?”

  His smile got brittle. Just for an instant, and if she didn’t know his every expression, she might have missed it. But she knew Jared like the back of her hand. Always had.

  “I’m okay, Mac. The doc says I can put weight on it. We weren’t jitterbugging, so it should be fine.”

  If it were fine, he wouldn’t be limping, but she
wasn’t going to argue with him and ruin tonight. If she never had another night like this, if this was all about the poker bet, she was still going to enjoy it. Tonight, she was going to be Cinderella at the ball. Or maybe she’d be Scarlett and think about it all tomorrow.

  She sliced into her Chicken Divan. “So how are the kittens?”

  “They’re good. We’ve come to an understanding: I don’t give them any formula and they don’t ruin any rugs.” Jared put a slice of his steak in his mouth.

  “No formula? But what are they eating?”

  “I soak the kitten food in water. Makes it soft, though still firm enough that their, uh, output is firm, too. A little bit more work on the front end, but a whole lot less on the back end. If you catch my drift.”

  She chuckled. “Got it.”

  He sliced off another piece of steak, his head bent so he wasn’t looking at her. “They miss you, though.”

  “They’re kittens. They don’t miss me.” It was a nice thought, but still . . .

  “Sure they do. They’ve gotten used to having you around. They perk up when you’re there. When you’re not, they get lonely.” He slid more steak into his mouth.

  He wasn’t talking about the kittens. She knew that as sure as she knew she wasn’t going to make it out of this date with her heart intact. “So now you’re adding cat whisperer to your list of superhero powers?”

  He put on his charming sideways smile and waggled his eyebrows. “You should see me when I’m about to leap over living room furniture in a single bound. These guys are fascinated with something in the basement. That should be next on the to-be-cleared-out list.”

  “Then the attic’s done?”

  “All but the ring. And I’m not so sure it was ever there. When I told Grandma I hadn’t found it, she wasn’t as heartbroken as I’d expect her to be if it was really missing. I mean, my grandfather worked ten hours a day, six days a week to buy that for her, and she let him, foregoing dates so he could.” He squeezed her fingers when he said it. “I used to think he was crazy. That no one was worth that kind of sacrifice. Grandma would’ve waited, or done without.”

  Scarlett came out to remind her that the used to think part of his statement and its implications were better considered tomorrow. It’d be too easy to go down that path with the soft lights and music, the wine, and Jared sitting beside her looking so incredibly gorgeous in his navy blue button-down. “But that ring was a sign of his commitment. I think it’s romantic.”

 

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