“Harley! Down, girl! Blake, did she hurt you?” Macy went to his side and grabbed the dog by the collar. “Sit, Harley,” she commanded.
Harley obeyed immediately but kept her attention on Blake. He could have sworn she smiled at him, her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth.
“No, she’s okay. Hey, girl,” he said and affectionately scratched behind her ears. She nuzzled his neck and he wrapped his arms around her. He’d truly missed the giant horse of a dog. She proceeded to sit in his lap like a human would and they nearly toppled over backward.
“That’s enough!” Macy exclaimed, waving at the dog. “You really missed him, I get it. I missed him, too. Now get off of him and get back to your spot. Now.”
Harley looked back at him.
“Better do what she says, girl.”
The dog huffed and returned to her gel-pad dog bed.
“Sorry about that. She’s excited to see you.”
Macy grabbed a tissue and dabbed her nose. He remembered how she’d sounded on the phone. “Macy, tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong. I mean, yes, there are some things we need to talk about but—these stories you wrote—”
She paused.
Something was wrong with them. “I told you I’m not a journalist.” He wasn’t upset. Maybe a bit disappointed. He’d enjoyed meeting and talking to past military personnel, especially the older vets from long ago.
“Not a journalist?” she scoffed and then smiled. “They’re brilliant. Choked me up a little they were so good. There are a few style points I’ll need to fix, but other than that, they’re okay to print. That’s why I called you. I’m going to pull the front page. I’d like to run the first two stories right now. And then, if you’re up to it, make it a weekly series.”
She liked what he’d done. “Uh, I’m not sure they’re front-page worthy,” he said, “but thanks.”
“I’m the publisher, I decide what is worthy of the front page. And for the record, this has nothing to do with you and, well, what’s been going on with us. I want to make that clear.”
So it was just business. “Sure,” he said. “Feel free to make the changes you think are necessary. I’m glad you liked the stories.”
He stood.
“Where are you going?”
He frowned, confused. “Was there more?”
Standing, she walked over and shut the door and the blinds. “Sit down, Blake.”
He sat.
She picked up the phone and dialed.
“Davis, I’m sending you new copy for the front page.” She paused to listen. “Yes, I know we already did the front page. But I have something better. Make sure you and Sam both look at it, and then send it on to the printer.”
She hung up the phone.
Her longs legs moved in front of him, and she sat down on the edge of her desk. She wore dark denims that hugged her hips and were tucked into those stiletto boots he loved. She leaned over and her shirt gapped slightly, giving him a glimpse of purple lace.
“Are you seeing someone else?”
His head popped up. “Why would you say something like that?”
She bit her lip. “You haven’t even tried to talk to me since what happened the other night.”
He leaned back so he could focus on her face, because her breasts were distracting him.
“That’s what you wanted. You said things were going too fast and that I was possessive. Time and space apart, I believe, was mentioned. So I’ve been doing that.”
Crossing her arms, she stared at him. “I meant in regard to that one night. I was embarrassed and hurt. By the next day I was over it. But you didn’t answer my question. Are you seeing someone else?”
“Who would I see?” he asked incredulously. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
It was the truth. No way in hell would he ever feel about another woman what he did for Macy.
She gave him a Cheshire cat–like smile. Then she bent over so her arms were on the arms of his chair, her breasts eye level.
“You’re seducing me,” he said gruffly.
“Maybe.” She slowly leaned in and kissed him.
“What would convince you? This?” She nibbled on his ear.
He coughed and kept his hands at his sides.
She edged her knees on either side of his legs in the large leather chair. Her heat rubbed against his cock. “Or maybe this,” she teased and tormented, as her hand went to the fly of his jeans.
Gently, he seized her wrist and stopped her. “Macy, I’m going to lose it right here and now if you don’t stop.” Then he pulled her to him and ravaged her mouth.
“Not here,” he said when he finally let her go.
“Why not?”
“Because when we do this, I’m going to make you moan my name so loud that everyone in town will know what we’re doing.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Well, then. I suppose we’d better hurry home. I only have about an hour before the final proofs are ready.”
“No. We aren’t rushing this again. I’m taking you on a date. We’ll have a nice dinner and—” She rubbed her heat over his strained cock.
“Stop distracting me.”
She pouted. “What other things are we going to do on the date besides eat? Because I have food at home we can cook. And a soft bed where you can make me moan all night long.”
Pulling away from him, she stood. “Unless you’re not up for it?”
He chuckled. “When you want something, it’s no holds barred, isn’t it?”
“It is. So, Marine, I see this going one of two ways. I can make love to you in the restaurant of your choice in front of the customers, or you can come to my place and we can negotiate further.”
He swallowed hard. “Will those boots be part of the negotiations?” He had a vision of her with nothing on but those damn boots.
“They could be, but before you leave, there’s one more thing.”
“Anything you want, babe, it’s yours.”
“From now on, if we have a disagreement about the terms of our mutual companionship, we discuss it. Calmly. And if I say I need a little time, I’m talking hours—at the most, a night. Understood?” She knelt in front of him and unzipped his jeans.
“Yes,” he groaned. “Macy, I’m never going to be able to walk out of here if you keep doing that.”
“By my clock we have an hour to fill before I look at those final proofs, so we’re going to have some fun.”
Her head dipped down and she slid her tongue along his shaft.
“Macy,” he said, gritting his teeth, “this feels, you fee...”
Pushing her hair away from her face, she stared up at him. “I know, Blake. I feel it, too.”
Before he could say another word, her mouth was on him again.
13
HAVING HER COFFEE in the backyard while tossing a chew toy to Harley, Macy was at peace. Even happy, maybe. When had she ever been able to say that? She had a home that was hers, and a dog that she loved and who loved her. It was like a dream that was never within reach when she’d covered so many stories and crisscrossed the globe.
Most of her adult life had been lived around some conflict. Adrenaline-fueled jaunts pursuing one lead and then the next. She accepted that was how she would spend the rest of her days, knowing that life might be cut short because of the job.
But now—that was no longer true.
Spending time in Tranquil Waters, learning to fit in, the intimacy with Blake—not just the sex—was beyond anything she’d ever experienced. All of these connections made her realize there was so much more to life than adrenaline and airports.
After the sixth throw of the toy, Harley ambled up to her. Macy sat down in a padded
deck chair. Even in November, the weather was warm enough that she could be outside in a sweater and still feel comfortable. The same couldn’t be said of what it was like in Boston at this time of year.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, Harley lay at her feet. The dog had short spurts of energy and then she was tired for eight hours.
“You’re up early,” she said to her friend.
“It’s your fault.” Cherie yawned.
“Why is that?”
“Your ex won’t stop calling me. He has something urgent he needs to talk to you about. He insists you call him now. And I’m supposed to tell you that it isn’t personal. It’s job related.”
Macy frowned. “I don’t want to hear anything from him, job related or whatever.”
“Seriously, you need to talk to him. Opportunity of a lifetime was just one phrase he used. Said he owed you, and this was the big one.”
“Last time I saw him, I seem to remember his ‘big one’ entertaining an intern.”
Cherie coughed. “Hold on there. You made a joke.”
“I discovered I have a sense of humor, go figure.”
“Oh, Macy. Your marine must be something special if he’s loosened you up enough to make jokes.”
“He is something special,” she said wistfully.
“You don’t even sound like your old self. I thought you’d signed off on men for good?”
“I did. I have no clue how long this is going to last with the marine, but it’s intense. I’ve— No matter what happens, it will have been worth the broken heart— At least in this case I’ve learned something about myself and what I want in a relationship.”
“You have fallen in the deep end without your water wings again.”
Definitely. But she hadn’t lied. Nothing about the past few weeks would change if she had a chance to do them over again. Except perhaps, the three days they’d been apart. She was still ticked over the time they wasted.
“I always did like to take risks.”
“So when do I get to meet him? You can and you will send me a picture.”
“I promise, soon.” Part of her didn’t want to share Blake, it was new and seemed almost too good to be true. “Listen, I need to get to the office.”
“Fine. Don’t worry about me. I’m just the one waking up at the crack of dawn to give you news of limitless opportunities.”
Macy laughed.
“Please, by all that you hold dear, call your ex. I wouldn’t put it past him to hop on a private jet and fly down there to speak to you in person.”
Ugh. Something she definitely did not want.
“Fine. And you know, Cherie, you can block his calls.”
Cherie grunted. “I did, and then he called my assistant, which is the only reason I’m awake before ten.”
* * *
AN HOUR LATER she was at the newspaper office. Harley was in her favorite spot sleeping. Deadline day was always a long one for Macy. She had to edit and design the pages and make sure everything was electronically delivered to the printer on time.
In spite of the pressure, the new staff and other changes had made a positive difference and everyone had settled into a comfortable routine.
“Hey, I’m going to do a latte run. Do you want a sandwich or something to go with yours?” Amanda asked. Today she wore a pair of dark jeans, cowboy boots and a T-shirt promoting a punk rock band that had seen better days—the shirt, not the band. At least the outfit was a step in the right direction and Macy wasn’t blinded by the color choices.
Glancing at her cell phone she saw that it was almost lunchtime.
“Yes.” She pulled cash out of her purse. “And get yourself and Lance something, as well.”
“Do you mind answering the phones? Lance is upstairs installing the new computer equipment.”
“Not a problem.”
Harley barked. The dog grabbed her leash from its hook and sat expectantly in front of Amanda.
Amanda rolled her eyes but smiled. “Yes, you may come, but you have to stay by the bicycle rack and if you try to trip me to get the food this time, there will be no more walks for you.”
“You don’t have to take her with you. That’s a lot to juggle.”
“It’s okay, I know she just gets excited and can’t help herself. Besides, she’s a guy magnet. Everyone wants to know what kind of dog she is, because she’s so big.”
Laughing, Macy followed them to the door.
She slipped her fingers around Harley’s collar. The dog looked at her. “You behave, or no cookies for you tonight.”
Harley did her signature move and cocked her head to one side.
“I mean it.”
Harley grumbled, but licked Macy’s hand.
The dog really did understand everything she said. It was spooky sometimes.
After washing her hands, she propped open her office door and the front door of the building so she could hear if someone walked in.
The phone rang as she was passing Amanda’s desk.
“Tranquil Waters News.”
“I thought you owned the paper, why are you answering the phones?” The smooth voice of her ex was unmistakable.
Figures. As soon as Amanda leaves he would call.
“The receptionist is grabbing lunch. I don’t have time to talk. I’m on deadline for our pages.”
“Please! Don’t hang up.” She couldn’t remember when he’d last used the word please.
“Whatever it is, Garrison, it can wait until tomorrow.” She reached down to disconnect the call.
“The Henderson Paper Group wants you to be the executive editor of their online editions,” he said quickly. “Aaron Henderson asked for you specifically.”
She couldn’t believe it. When she’d decided she was tired of traveling, she’d wanted to make a name for herself as an editor. In the six months she was at the Boston paper, which was one of Henderson’s largest papers, she’d noticeably improved its bottom line. After streamlining the editorial process, the quality of the information had increased, bringing in more subscribers and consequently more advertisers.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Henderson wants you back and he’s bumping you up to executive editor. You’re a hot commodity. The different papers in the chain all want you, they’re fighting over you. I nearly got demoted when you left, because you had created such a dynamic online version that we were making more money than all the rest of the papers in the group combined.”
She hadn’t known that, but it pleased her. It meant that people were still interested in hard news, and not just what kind of underwear a celebrity might be wearing.
“You’ve worked with Aaron, and he’s been watching what you’ve done with the paper there in Texas. From what we can tell, you’ve increased the ad revenue and circulation. And even though it’s a small area without a lot of big news, the quality of reporting is exponentially better that it was six months ago.”
“Did you do this?” If this was some bizarre plan to get her back to Boston, she wasn’t interested.
This was beyond her dream job. To have creative and editorial input on an entire newspaper chain’s online components was incredible. It also pulled at her heartstrings. Journalism, and the way it was reported. Ethics was the one aspect she felt strongest about. Good, objective reporting was needed in the world and this would give her enough influence to make that happen.
“No. In fact, I’d suggested another candidate. But Henderson only wants you. As far as he’s concerned, there are no other candidates. He’s in New York tomorrow and wants to meet with you personally. By the way, that’s where the job would be.”
Aaron Henderson had been her first editor, the guy who believed she was tough e
nough to be a war correspondent when no one else would give her a chance. She owed him. Big.
“That’s really short notice.”
“I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for two weeks. Did Cherie tell you I called?”
“Yes, but I’ve been busy.” That was true.
The very least she could do was hear Aaron out. And she had to admit that it was a bit of an ego boost that they’d been watching what she did with the local paper.
“There’s a first-class ticket waiting for you, all you have to do is claim it. The flight is at nine tonight. Once you land, a car will pick you up and take you to the hotel. You’ll meet with Aaron there at ten the next morning. Are you in?”
Was she? Glancing around her office, taking in all the little changes that now made it hers...she knew it would be difficult to walk away. And what about her relationship with Blake? He had said he didn’t plan on living in the small town for the rest of his life, but would he want to live in New York?
Before she spoke to him about it, she wanted to know the fine print of what she was being offered. Then she’d make a decision.
“Yes. I’m in.”
* * *
BLAKE HELD THE papers in his hand. An honorable discharge. There was a time he thought he’d go all the way and retire, but he was excited about new possibilities.
One of which was his mutual companionship with Macy. The other was figuring out his place in the world. He’d invested in his friends’—Rafe and Will’s—security business. Anytime he wanted to step into a corporate roll it was there for him. He was already the CFO of sorts, overseeing most of the financials.
It meant a fair amount of travel, but that wasn’t so awful. If he settled in Tranquil Waters, he’d need to let his soul free now and again. This kind of job might be the perfect answer. They had asked him to take over the rescue-operations department, as well. He’d coordinate search-and-rescue missions, which was something he’d always wanted to do.
His phone played Macy’s favorite song. “Hey, beautiful, what’s up?”
Her Last Best Fling Page 11