by Lyz Kelley
“After Ellie’s surgery, you said something about not having all the facts. I got the impression it had to do with LA or your family, but you left before I could ask.”
“Did I? I don’t recall.”
But he did recall, because his pace increased, and his focus turned to the police officer sitting astride his horse. The tension and silence grew until she surrendered. She wouldn’t push. Not today. She understood the need to keep secrets and wanted this day to be special.
“Are we there yet? I’m hungry,” she whined like a twelve-year-old to get him to relax.
His tenseness eased, as he pointed to the diner across the street.
“Fifty steps and your taste buds will thank me.”
She couldn’t wait to indulge in a sweet stack of sinful delight. Come to think of it, the last few days had been indulgent.
She wanted the feast to continue because the past few years had definitely been a famine.
Chapter 18
“I shouldn’t have eaten that last pancake. I’m stuffed.” Garrett rubbed his stomach after exiting the rental store and moving into the flow of pedestrians walking along the crowded city street. “Do you mind if we hit the men’s department first?” he asked, pointing to Macy’s entrance. “Your brother’s gear is now a bit too tight.”
“Liam likes fitted clothing. He says ladies appreciate it.” McKenzie’s disgust implied a difference of opinion.
“After you.” Garrett held the door open to sneak another whiff of her citrus shampoo and ogle her lovely shape.
Finding the men’s department wasn’t the hard part. Keeping her from wanting him to try on the whole store became the challenge. Every time he turned around, she was there with slacks, socks, shirts, or a shoe in her hand she wanted him to consider. Typically it took him five minutes to shop. Today he could see she meant to take his tolerance for shopping to a whole new level.
“No. I don’t need four shirts. One will do.”
“I’ll buy them as a gift.”
“I don’t want you to buy them for me. I don’t need them, or have space in my closet. Have you seen the average person’s closet size in New York? More would fit in a suitcase.”
“But this teal one would look good. If it’s about the money—”
“This is not about money.” Frustration and irritation combined, cranking up the nasty in his mood. Of course, she would think it was about the money. Releasing a deep breath, he prayed for patience. “Look. I haven’t allowed my sisters to dress me since I was nine. At thirty-four, I’m pretty set in my style. You’ll have plenty of time to exercise those credit cards when we hit the baby section.”
The pouty lower lip and sad, droopy eyes did him in. He grabbed the shirts, placed them on top of the jeans, socks, and loafers and pushed them toward the checkout clerk. Anger, fear, sadness, he wanted none of those emotions to touch her today. This day needed to be special—a new start.
“Does that guilt routine work on your brothers? If not, I want a copy of their escape and evasion plan.”
Her deadly smile widened before she planted her warm, wet, silky lips on his cheek.
Man, he was doomed.
The clerk handed him a receipt. He shoved it into the bag and grabbed the white handles. “I’m going to change into my new clothes. Do you want me to meet you in the kids’ section?”
“Sounds great. If we miss each other, you can call my cell.” She opened her purse and rummaged around, her frenzied hands pulling and pushing items aside. A few minutes passed. “It looks like I forgot my phone. I never forget my phone.”
“There are days, Mac, when leaving your phone behind is the right decision. Today might be one of them.” He took a step and planted a kiss smack in the center of her mouth. “Here’s my phone in case you need one. Will you be okay for five minutes while I change?”
The uneasiness in her eyes disappeared. Sweet, feisty tenacity took its place. “I’ll be upstairs.”
He waited for her to get on the escalator before retreating to the dressing room.
Observing McKenzie was like watching a two-year-old discover her world for the first time. The joy of tasting food. The curiosity and people-watching. The thrill of hearing street performers. He revisited each moment, frame by frame. She never stopped moving, absorbing everything, not wanting to miss anything.
Tucking in his shirt, he checked the mirror. “Good enough.” He shoved Liam’s clothes in the bag and made his way to the jewelry counter.
“May I help?” the cute blonde behind the counter asked.
“I was looking for a simple pair of gold hoop earrings. Classic, nothing fancy.”
“We have the perfect gift in the cabinet on the other side. I’ll meet you there.”
Cases of sapphires, rubies, and opals he could ignore, but the diamond case filled with engagement and wedding bands caught his attention. His eyes skimmed the case and paused on a wedding set with a matching man’s band, but his feet kept walking.
The blonde pulled a set of earrings from the case. “We have fourteen-karat gold hoops in three sizes. Are these for a girlfriend?”
The way she leaned forward, exposing her interest, didn’t affect him. The insinuation of a girlfriend did.
“Sister.” He worked to soften his clenched jaw. “If you could box them right away, it would be appreciated. I’m late meeting someone.”
Five minutes later, the word girlfriend still rolled around his mind.
Was Mac a girlfriend? She was a girl. She was a friend. Or was she more? She definitely was more than a benefit.
Reaching the top of the escalator, he barely recognized the person behind the arms filled with pink, yellow, and purple merchandise. The pure delight on her face made his dark thoughts lighten. A kid in a toy store couldn’t have been more excited. She was grace, but her childlike charm captured and held his interest. He’d never met someone like her. Sophisticated, yet fragile. Protecting her was a priority, but he also wanted to set her free.
“You could save time and buy one of everything,” he said, sliding up beside her.
Holding up a white lace dress and a pale pink lace dress, she asked, “Which do you like better?”
“The white one.”
“Really?” A groan escaped him before he could pull it back. “I’m not sure.” She walked to the counter. “As you said, I’ll buy them both. If Ellie doesn’t wear them, I can always donate them to the hospital or charity.”
“What about all the other stuff? Bottles and grooming kit and teething rings?”
“That stuff is over there.” She pointed to a large pile of children’s necessities.
“Please tell me you’re not planning to turn me into an elephant. I don’t think I can carry all that stuff.”
“No. I’ve already requested delivery. The crib is on back order and should arrive sometime next week.”
“You move fast.”
“Not really. I researched and picked out a car seat, stroller, and crib months ago. I never thought I would be ordering them so soon.”
“So that’s it, then? You’re done?”
“Nooooo. Not even close. I need to get the room monitor, and they didn’t have the baby thermometer I wanted. I want to see if the Baby Boutique at the hospital can help me special-order it.” The sales clerk had dollar signs in her eyes, especially when Mac handed over her platinum card and told her to ring it up. “So what’s next on the agenda?”
“That’s up to you. But I wish you would consider SoHo. There are a couple of art exhibits I want to visit before they end.”
“Art? Twist my arm. A friend told me about a studio space in the district. Do you mind if we take a look while we’re there?”
“You’re really going to pursue this art thing.”
“I am.”
“I’m glad. Your work is exceptional. You owe it to yourself and the world to display your talent.”
He wasn’t saying her art was good for her benefit, he was saying her art inspi
red and needed to be seen, and displayed. While she thanked him, he could see his praise sinking in, past her modesty, to ignite something in her eyes.
The sales clerk folded the receipt in four before handing it to Mac. She turned to him. “Ready?”
“Next stop, SoHo.”
Visiting art galleries turned into a coffee break, and then a walk in the park, and then more baby shopping, and then dinner. The entire day became a day of discovery. A day of destroying his last perceptions of the wealthy woman and getting to know a beautiful, kind, giving, and genuine woman. He warmed to tales of her childhood, and the antics she and her brothers contrived to challenge parents and staff. College had been rough with all her parents’ extreme expectations, and her own even more grandiose plans. She talked about her challenges, being the daughter of such successful parents. Of feeling alone, isolated from society and potential friends.
Over Chocolate Decadence and Earl Grey decaffeinated tea, she held his hand and recounted her kidnapping and torture. She told him how it had changed her, transformed her into a person she didn’t recognize. And how she had fought to find her way back.
Standing in front of her apartment, he caressed her. “Thank you for telling me your story and giving me your trust.”
“It’s important to know the truth, not what’s been sensationalized in some newspaper.”
He didn’t want the day to end. It would at some point, but he wanted to hold on a little longer. Pressing his lips to hers, he drew her in, deepening the kiss.
“Hmmm,” she purred. “I shouldn’t ask, but would you stay? At least for a beer or something. I know you probably would like to go home, but today was such a monumental day. I would like to enjoy your company a little while longer.”
With a twenty-four pack of condoms in his bag, he felt somewhat confident. “A beer or whatever sounds nice.”
He held the door for her, and then took her hand before walking through the lobby to the elevator. During the ascent, the anticipation of holding her in his arms was killing him.
Retrieving her key, she reached for the door when the back of his neck tingled in that watch-out-danger sort of way. The rare sensation he never ignored. He wrapped his fingers around her hand, took her keys and pushed her behind him.
“What are you—?”
The door to her apartment opened before the sentence finished.
“Where in the hell have you been?” Weston’s gale-force fury held nothing back. His finger-combed hair, wrinkled shirt, and unshaven face gave the impression he’d been pacing for hours. “We have the police and the entire Carver security team out scouring the city. Where’s your phone?”
“It’s my fault.” Garrett held up a hand, trying to redirect the anger.
She stepped around him just as Liam appeared.
Relief replaced Liam’s concern before anger froze on his face. “I’ll call Mom and Dad and let them know we found her.” He retreated into her apartment.
Weston pointed at her chest. “Before I wrap my hands around your neck, I’m leaving. Just for the record. There’s a tracking device on your phone for a reason. Never, ever, ever leave without it again, or I will assign a permanent security detail.”
She didn’t get a chance to respond. Weston, already in motion, shoved through the stairwell door so hard it bounced off the wall.
She turned to Garrett. “You don’t need to stay. I’ll deal with this. After what happened before, they sometimes get a little overprotective.”
“I’m not leaving. I kept you out late. I’ll help you deal with this.”
“Liam is at least the more reasonable of the two, but he can still be a hothead.”
Sometimes angry men, when pushed, became explosive and did irrational things, like punch walls or people. Even those they loved. He could take a few punches and would make sure he defused the situation or put himself in front of any hurt thrown at Mac. She’d had enough hurt in her life. Nothing or no one would touch her again in his presence. No one.
He took a step toward the door. “After you, Madam. Our executioner awaits.”
The joke had the desired effect. A glimpse of a smile formed on her face until Liam reappeared, putting on a rumpled suit jacket and grabbing his car keys from the kitchen counter, which was littered with half-eaten sandwiches and bottles of water.
“Next time, make sure she has her phone, or that she calls.”
McKenzie dropped her shopping bags. “I will do whatever I—”
Garrett wrapped an arm around her waist to stop her from spiking her brother’s temper, and possibly to stake his claim. The silent message he sent Liam became apparent because Liam shoved his keys in his pocket.
“There won’t be a next time,” Garrett announced in a way that left no room for a different opinion. “She’ll have her phone with her at all times. But McKenzie is a grown woman. It might help if you and the rest of the family treat her as such and give her space to live the life she wants to live.” Having defended her, and feeling it safe to release her, he stepped back and placed the shopping bags he carried on the counter.
Her brother’s eyes zeroed in on colorful baby bottles, pacifiers, and onesies overflowing from the bags. His accusatory gaze landed on Mac. “I figured there must be an explanation for the yellow studio. When were you going to tell us the doctor knocked you up?”
The gasp from her ignited Garrett’s smoldering rage. “First, you will apologize to your sister for making false accusations,” he said, his voice lowering an octave, his words delivered with specific intent. “Second, you’ll apologize to me for assuming I would disrespect your sister. Third, if you utter another derogatory word tonight, I will give you a good reason to need a plastic surgeon.”
The smoldering, debating look Liam gave him made him brace himself and shift to a fighting stance.
“Stop. Just stop,” she warned. “Both of you. Put that testosterone away. I will not have my apartment busted up over a misunderstanding.” She reached out to Liam. “I’m adopting that sweet little girl I’ve been telling you about. I haven’t had the chance to tell everyone.”
“So you’re not pregnant.”
“No.”
While Garrett was trying to decide if he or Liam felt more relieved, her brother shoved his hand forward to bridge the gap. “Truce?”
Garrett grasped his hand, squeezed, and released.
“I’ll talk to Weston and Mom and Dad to reduce the heat. They’re hot with worry. You scared the shit out of us. When you practically hung up on Weston this morning, he got worried. You know Weston when he doesn’t like something. We all thought the worst. Just remember, we love you, Bug. And we want to protect you.”
She wrapped her arms around her sibling. “I know. And I am sorry. It’s just that I felt so free and safe. I should have called.”
“It may take time, but they’ll come around. We want you to be happy, and it looks like you’re starting to nest.”
“The nursery. I don’t have much time. I should be signing the papers any day now. The baby’s name is Ellie.”
Liam swooped his sister into his arms and spun her in circles before returning her to the floor. “I’m happy for you. Did you have anything to do with this?” He pointed a finger at Garrett.
Sensing a lack of hostility, he figured Liam meant the adoption, not her escaping for the day. “It was all her doing. She decided on her own.”
“I have a feeling you did some influencing. I haven’t seen her this happy in way too long.” He kissed Mac on the forehead. “I’d better go find Weston. He’s probably brooding somewhere over a glass of scotch.” Liam stepped toward the door. “Take care of her.”
“I will,” he said with a conviction that surprised even him.
The woman in front of him had a way of entangling people in her world, a world they never wanted to leave. A world where he knew if he stayed too long, he’d get burned.
Chapter 19
Nothing could be better than waking up to find a na
ked man making breakfast. McKenzie pushed her hair out of her eyes to better appreciate the sight.
George swished his tail as if saying, “About time you got up, Mom.”
“Something smells good. And you look scrumptious.” She wrapped her bathrobe tighter around her waist and took a seat at the kitchen island. The mouthwatering smell of onions sautéed in butter permeated the room, and she took a deep breath to draw in the glorious smell and steal another appreciative once-over of Garrett. “Somehow that apron never looked as good on me as it does on you.”
“Didn’t want to splatter my important bits with grease. If I’m going to continue staying here, I need more than a single change of clothes.” He gave her a sleepy, need-another-cup-of-coffee grin. “I hope you like mushroom, onion, and cheese omelets. It’s the only thing I could find to make.”
A change of clothes. A thrill ran up her spine. He’d given serious consideration to staying. “There’s yogurt in the refrigerator.”
“Yeah, if you like carbs and mold. You really should look at your expiration dates. Six months is too long.”
Several years ago, if a man had nagged or lectured about anything, she would have sent him packing. For some reason, having Garrett fussing about her health was comforting. Besides making her feel safe and looking mighty tasty in an apron, he cooked. Bonus.
“I didn’t thank you for standing up for me last night. I could have dealt with my brothers, but having you here helped.”
“As a brother, I get why they care, but neither of them had a right to talk to you the way they did. My sisters wouldn’t have put up with such a heavy hand. When you meet them, you’ll understand.”
Did he just say he would introduce her to his family? Another shimmer of excitement ran through her. He rarely talked about his family, and she recognized how much the gift of his trust meant. The Carvers protected their privacy in the same way. But reality hit. She knew Garrett wasn’t one to change his mind easily, and he’d be gone soon—back to following his dreams. Would he compartmentalize like some men, separating her from his work, family, and private life?