by Judi Fennell
“Romance is highly overrated. Well, given my past experience, that is.”
Camille.
Right. How could she have forgotten Camille? The woman Jared had asked to live with him. The woman he might have married if she hadn’t hurt him. It’d be one thing if Jared had ended their relationship, but Camille had. He could still have feelings for her.
Pain twisted in Mac’s belly. So many times she’d imagined him marrying the woman he’d been with at whatever moment in time she’d looked him up. Yet, in all that time, he never had, and she’d hoped that maybe . . . that he might have been . . . well, waiting for her.
Nice dream, but he’d had his chance and hadn’t taken it.
But maybe that was what tonight was about.
God, she hoped so.
Because she was still in love with him.
Mac exhaled and shook her head, then grabbed her glass of water and took a healthy swig.
“Mac? Are you okay? Something wrong?”
That’d depend on how he defined wrong. “No. I’m fine.” In a please-God-don’t-let-me-get-hurt-again sort of way. “So explain to me why we’re here, Jared.” Might as well get the answer to the question she really wanted to ask. Rip off the bandage, as it were.
He looked at her, his eyebrows in a V. “To have dinner?”
“No, I mean, us. Why are we here? How did this come to be? Us.”
He took a sip of his wine. “Because Liam said he’d mentioned that I wanted to take you out and you said you’d go? Then he called me and told me to pick you up at six tonight.”
“That’s it? He didn’t tell you how he ‘mentioned’ it?”
“I’m assuming he said something along the lines of, ‘Mac, Jared told me he wanted to take you out,’ and you said, ‘Okay.’”
“He didn’t mention the poker game?”
“What does that game have to do with anything? You cleaning my grandmother’s house didn’t have anything to do with that bet—Wait.” He set down his utensils. “You and Liam played another game. With this dinner as the prize.”
He wasn’t asking a question.
So she didn’t have to answer.
“Oh, hell.” He tapped his thumb on the rim of his plate and stared at her. “Lee bet you to go out with me if he won, didn’t he? I wasn’t the prize. I was the bet you lost.”
Sometimes it really sucked that he knew her family as well as he did.
She took another swig of her water.
“Never mind. You don’t have to answer that.” He swiped a hand over his jaw and sat back in his chair with a muttered, “son of a bitch” beneath his breath.
She ought to be enjoying this. And maybe if she didn’t care about him, she would. But she’d loved Jared from the first moment she’d seen him—well, after she’d finished yelling at him about the dirt bike mounds—and nothing had changed since.
He shook his head with a disbelieving look on his face. “Serves me right, huh? I’m sorry for that night, Mac, when you came to me with your heart on your sleeve and I was such a jerk.”
“And I’m sorry it looks like you were the bet I lost. You’re not.”
“No?” He leaned forward. “Then what am I?”
* * *
HE’D never wanted an answer more in his life. He’d been thrilled when Liam had said she’d accepted, and he’d attributed her silences tonight to the awkwardness of their past meeting their present. And whatever the future would hold.
But to know that she was only here because she’d lost a bet . . . What game was Lee playing?
“I haven’t figured that out. I’m still trying to grasp the concept that you told Liam you wanted to take me to dinner. And that he agreed.”
“That’s because I told him the truth, Mac. That I was a blind idiot back then and I’ve opened my eyes now.”
“And he believed you.”
“Why wouldn’t he? It’s the truth.”
She looked at him then, into his eyes, and, man, the hope he saw in hers . . .
Jesus. How could he make up for breaking her heart?
Give her yours.
Jared swallowed. Oh, sure. Just blurt out that, after years of pushing her away, he’d suddenly fallen in love with her.
Wait. Had he fallen in love with her?
Jared sat back. Was it possible?
He looked at her, the candlelight and pale green of her dress making her eyes seem brighter, and the look of hope in them making a beeline right to his chest.
He’d been the boy of her dreams, but in his stupidity of not appreciating that, he’d almost missed out on the woman of his.
He leaned forward again and reached for her hand. “Mary-Alice Catherine Manley, you are an incredible woman and I’m the luckiest guy on the planet to be out to dinner with you. I’m sorry for the hurt I caused you in the past, but if you’ll let me, I’ll make it up to you.”
He waited, not breathing, when she nibbled her bottom lip. Then when her tongue swiped over it. Then again when she opened her mouth to say something, only to think better of it and close it. He’d never begged in his life, but for Mac, he was willing to take that first step. “Please?”
Indecision crossed her face. Hesitation. He got all of that. But that little bit of hope was what he was betting would make her say yes.
“I want to make up for that pain, Mac. I want us to get to know each other as we are now. Explore this side of our relationship without the past tarnishing it. I’d like to start new. Will you give me—us—that chance?”
“Why, Jared? Why now?” Her voice was soft and he hoped to hell it wasn’t because there were tears behind it. He’d made her cry too much already.
“Because when you’re stuck with only yourself for company, you do some hard thinking. A lot of introspection. I’ve looked at my life and seen the mistakes I’ve made as well as the successes. Baseball has been a success, but you . . .”
“I’m a failure? Gee, this conversation’s going well.” She tugged her hand away and grabbed her glass again.
He stopped her before she could hide behind it. “Not you, Mac. Me. I failed you.”
“You didn’t owe me anything.”
“But I did. I do.” He set her glass down and reached for her hand again. “Your feelings for me were a gift that I didn’t appreciate. I claim lack of maturity and the self-centeredness of teenagers, but I could have handled it better. I’m not making excuses; I’m asking you to forgive me. Because now I see the gift of what you offered and I . . . I’d like to see if those feelings still exist.”
“Why?”
“Because I . . .” How the hell was he going to say this so she’d believe him? “Because I don’t want to miss out on the best thing to happen to me.”
He held his breath as she looked at him, praying that what she’d once felt for him was still there and it’d be enough to let her risk her heart once more.
“I . . .” She cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter in her chair. “Okay, Jared. I’ll give this a try.”
He couldn’t contain his smile. He did, however, refrain from hauling her into his arms and kissing her senseless. He was going to woo Mac. Make her believe.
And he was going to find some way to get Camille out of his house so Mac would never question his feelings again.
He raised his wine glass. “Then here’s to tonight. This dinner. May it be the first of many.” He nodded his head and took a sip.
The atmosphere changed then. When Mac wasn’t self-conscious about being with him, she was a hell of a lot of fun. Smart, funny, compassionate . . . all things he’d always known about her but was just now starting to appreciate.
They talked about growing up a field away from each other and school. They were far enough apart in age that they hadn’t been in the same building, but they’d had friends
in the same families. And there were always the community events they’d been at.
“Do you remember that Halloween when Kelly Martinez wore that hideous mask and no one reacted?” Mac asked during dessert. “The look on his face when we just said, ‘Hi, Kelly,’ like it was no big deal.”
“That’s because Liam and I told everyone who he was,” said Jared. “He’d been planning to scare all of your girlfriends into the arms of the football team and, well, let’s just say the football team as a social body wasn’t exactly the nicest crew. Crowd-think at its poorest. Pissed Lee and me off. We never had to resort to those tactics.” Girls had been coming on to them since they’d been born, so it’d never been an issue. And in his arrogance, he’d lumped Mac in with all the others.
He was learning the error of his ways.
They danced to a few more songs and each time it was getting harder to let her go.
Leaving her at her doorstep was even harder.
He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb along the soft curve of her jaw, tilting her head back. The moonlight caught the sparkle in her eye just before he lowered his head.
He stopped a breath away from her lips. “Is it okay to kiss you goodnight, Mac?”
She smiled that genuine, light-up-the-room smile she’d always had for him.
Thank God.
“Yes, Jared. You can kiss me.”
Then she reached up and twined her fingers in his hair, tugging him down to her, and Jared wrapped his arms around her, hugging her against him, lifting her off her feet.
He often forgot how small Mac was because her presence made her seem bigger than she was. But, right now, in his arms, she was a perfect fit.
The kiss rocked him and it was a good thing he was standing next to the porch roof support. He leaned against it, lifting her a bit higher, kissing her deeply. Mac tasted even better than she had when he’d kissed her before.
She shivered against him and he smiled. It wasn’t cold out tonight and even if it was, he was big enough to keep the air off her.
He kissed his way along her jaw. “You get to me, too, Mac.” As if she couldn’t tell.
She smiled against his cheek. “I should go in, Jared.”
Not the words he wanted to hear, but the ones she needed to say. He understood.
One last kiss to that sweet soft spot below her ear and he let her slide down until her feet hit the porch.
“Ooph.” She stumbled against him.
“What’s wrong?”
She chuckled. “My shoe fell off.”
He looked at it, then at her. It was as if the universe was giving him the perfect opportunity. “Allow me, Princess.”
It was a totally cheezeball moment, and a totally hot one at the same time as he knelt on his good leg and slid her high heel onto her foot, his fingers caressing her calf a little longer than Prince Charming ought to. Then again, he was no prince. “It fits.”
“Oh puhleaze.” She swatted his shoulder. “Get up before you hurt yourself, Jared.”
Getting up wasn’t his problem—oh, she meant stand up.
Totally different story.
He leveraged himself on the brick base of the roof support and his shoulder brushed her hip when he stood.
Not helping the situation . . .
He stepped down off the porch—making him now eye level with her.
He wasn’t looking at her eyes.
Her lips were still puffy from his kiss.
He took another step down. And another. Away from temptation.
“Good night, Mac. Sweet dreams.”
His sure would be.
Chapter Twenty-eight
MAC sat in Bryan’s Maserati in Mildred’s driveway the following morning, staring at the front door. Jared was in there. She should go in.
But what if everything had changed?
Last night had been one of the most magical nights of her life, right down to the real-life Cinderella moment.
Thought you weren’t a big believer in Cinderella?
There was only one way to find out. She got out of the car and headed toward the flagstone walkway to the front porch.
Chase, the boy Jared had thrown the baseball with on the front lawn, ran up to her.
With a daisy.
“Here, Miss Manley. Jared said I should give this to you.”
“He did, did he?”
“Yes, ma’am. He did. Have a nice day.” The boy tuggeddown his baseball cap—the one with Jared’s signature on the brim—and ran down the driveway with a wave.
Mac watched him round the evergreen at the end, her smile making her cheeks hurt. Maybe there was something to this whole fairy-tale business after all.
“Um, miss?” Another boy stepped out from behind the rhododendron next to the porch.
He also held a daisy.
“Hi. Aren’t you one of the Bradfords?”
“Yes. I’m Michael. And this is for you. Jared said you like them.”
“I do.” She took the flower. “Thank you, Michael. Say hi to your parents for me.”
“I will and you’re welcome. Have a nice day.” And he, too, ran down the driveway.
Boys popped out from behind that rhododendron bush like prairie dogs out of their holes. Each one with a daisy.
It took a dozen flowers before she made it to the first porch step.
“Are there many more?” she asked the twelfth kid.
“A few.” He scrunched his mouth and cocked his head. “Is this really fun? Jared said you’d think so, but I don’t get it. It’s just a bunch of flowers.”
“It is, but more than the flowers, it’s the thought that counts. So thank you for helping Jared let me know he’s thinking of me.”
The kid shrugged. “Whatever. Seems like a waste of an afternoon when we could be playing ball.” He turned to leave, then remembered to wish her a good day.
“You, too,” she said as he walked away shaking his head.
Mac still couldn’t help smiling. She’d bet he’d do this same thing someday when he understood the significance behind it.
Numbers fourteen through nineteen were repeats, the first boy—Chase—winking at her when it was his turn again. “This sure is mushy. But my mom said she’d love it if my dad did this. And since he’s in a chair, I think I’m gonna do it for him. My mom could use a smile like yours.”
Mac put her palms to her cheeks, careful not to lose a single daisy. She could feel the blush, but she didn’t mind. “You do that, Chase. I guarantee your parents will love it.”
“I guess. Well, I hope you like it, ’cause there aren’t too many flowers left.”
That’s what she was counting on.
Jared was flower number twenty. He limped around the rhododendron with a crutch under one arm and a bunch of daisies in his other hand.
“I wanted to give you twenty-nine individually, but we ran out of kids, and preteen boys are only willing to go along with so much mushiness before they lose interest. I’m shocked I got them to make it through nineteen.” He stopped in front of her. “Here. They’re your favorite, right?”
She could hardly speak.
“You . . .” She sucked in a big breath. “You remembered.”
“I might not figure things out right away, Mac, but it does stay in the vault.” He tapped his temple. “To be taken out when most needed.” He ran a hand down her arm. “I missed you.”
She felt like she was seventeen again and this time Jared was saying all the right things.
“Don’t look at me like that, Mac, or we might not get to the plans I have for today.”
“Plans? I thought we were cleaning.”
“You can clean if you want, but I have better things in mind.”
“Such as . . . ?”
“Well first we�
��re going to get these in some water.” He took the daisies from her. “Don’t want all my hard work and coercion tactics with the boys to go to waste. I’m into them for at least two pickup games.”
“They’re going to love that.”
“So will I.” He swept his hand toward the steps. “I was thinking that if the team doesn’t renew my contract, I might get involved in a youth sports program around here. I’m sure Ted would give me a shot.”
“I think Ted will shoot you if you don’t.” She nudged him with her shoulder as she passed. “It’s not every day an MVP offers to coach.”
“I don’t know about coaching. I was thinking more along the lines of, you know, putting a few games together.”
“And then just sitting on the sidelines? Like the parents are going to let you.” She looked at the front door. The table was missing. The one for the neighbors to put their goodies on. “Where’s the table?”
He opened the screen door. “I moved it.”
“Why?”
He reached for her hand and kissed the back of it. “Because I don’t want any more baskets with phone numbers.”
She could feel herself blush at that.
“Damn, Mac, that makes you even prettier than you already are.” His lips hovered over her hand and they stared at each other for a heartbeat or two.
He wanted to kiss her.
She wanted him to.
The kittens, however, had other ideas.
Three of them tumbled over the top of the play yard and came scampering toward the front door.
The open front door.
“Larry, no!” Jared let go of her hand and managed to catch the calico before the door slammed closed on him.
“Shemp, come here!” The gray dodged Mac’s legs and was heading toward the wood panel at the bottom of the door when Jared managed to scoop him up as well.
“Grab Curly!” he said as the last one tried launching himself onto the bench beside the door, then wiggled his butt to leap at the screen.