I take a sip of wine as a small smile tugs at my lips. “I had no idea Mom was seeing him. About a month or so after Pappy’s funeral, she announced she was getting married, and we were moving.”
“How did you take it?”
“I hated the idea. Not about her getting married, but the idea of moving. Who wants to move and attend a new school at the start of senior year?” I shake my head at the memory. “But by moving here, we had a solid roof over our heads, guaranteed meals, and I didn’t have to see my father.” I shiver. That was the best part of leaving San Francisco. I can’t believe I entertained the thought of living with him.
Nate pauses and turns to look at me, the rim of the wineglass inches from his mouth. “You don’t like your father?”
“There’s not much to like, I’m afraid.”
“Ah.” He doesn’t add anything else. He stares at me as if he knows where I’m coming from—that all too knowing look filled with understanding. Maybe thinking about my father should upset me more, but there’s something about talking to Nate that puts me at ease. It’s as if someone is listening to me for the first time in my life. As if he hears me.
I take another sip of wine.
“Do you have family close by?”
“My mom died when I was young. And my dad . . . let’s just say he’s not worth mentioning.”
“I get it, trust me.”
We’re halfway through the bottle when the boys get cleaned up for bed. I place my hand on his knee and stand. “Stay put. I need to tuck the kids in, and then I’ll be right out.”
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
I certainly hope not.
Chapter Seventeen
Nate
“Did the boys go to bed okay?” I ask when Mackenzie rejoins me on the back patio.
Long lashes sweep across her high cheekbones as a smirk dances across those glossy pink lips. Her loose curls frame her delicate face, making her seem innocent but sexy at the same time. She’s so damn beautiful, it hurts. “Yeah, but they didn’t want to.”
“No?”
“Nope. They wanted to stay up since you’re still here. They rather like having you around.”
As she settles into the chair next to me, I wait for the uncomfortableness that admission should bring, but it never comes. It’s no secret I’ve gotten close to both boys this past week. Those kids are awesome. Who wouldn’t adore them? But I also got close to their mom—something I didn’t see coming at all.
“I like being here.” The way her cheeks turn crimson, I worry I’ve overstepped. But then her gaze slides to mine, and a glint of interest shines in her eyes. Now that’s interesting. I pick up the half-empty bottle of wine and cock an eyebrow. “Another glass?”
“Sure, why not? I’m not going anywhere.” She watches the wine swirl in the glass as I pour.
Needing to rein in my sexual urges, I ask about her stepdad. “How’s Stan doing since his hip surgery?”
“Much better, thanks. He’s settled in the house well enough. Adjusting. I’m going over there tomorrow to help with what I can. I’m glad Jordan’s here. I bet if he knew what he signed up for, he wouldn’t have come. It’s a miracle he hasn’t ditched.”
“He’s not much for helping?”
“No. Jordan has always been what you call a free spirit. Sunnyville’s too slow-paced for him. I’m surprised he even came here at all, to be honest.”
“I take it from our earlier conversation that he didn’t move with you guys.”
“No, he lived with Dad after my parents divorced. Then, he stayed behind in San Francisco.” She laughs. “It’s funny how dreams change.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’ve driven to the city twice now, and I’ve already gotten my fill of the traffic and people. It’s all too much. I think when you’re younger, you look at life through a different lens. A much younger, naïve one, maybe?”
“Okay, granny. You’re what, only twenty-seven or twenty-eight?” I internally cringe from voicing her age. The last thing I want to do is point out the disparities between us. Admittedly, our age difference doesn’t seem to bother her. Perhaps it’s because she isn’t your typical twenty-eight-year-old. She’s way more mature. She has been through a lot and lived through too much tragedy. She’s as seasoned as me. Almost.
“Twenty-eight, but sometimes, I feel a lot older.” She stares out to the horizon. The full moon casts a faint glow to the ocean of darkness and illuminates the side of her face. Her expression is an enigma, part mesmerizing and part haunting. A graceful calamity of a woman once scorned. I don’t understand where it comes from.
“Yeah?” I prod.
“Can I confess something without the risk of sounding bitchy?”
“You could never sound bitchy, but go on.”
She lets out a hollow laugh and glances down at her wineglass. She swirls the liquid a few times before taking a drink. “Sometimes, I feel as if I’m the worst person on the planet.”
I tilt my head and stare at her. I’m not sure where she’s going with this. “I assure you that isn’t true.”
“I’ve already told you how badly I wanted to leave this town. Do you remember the elderly gentleman you met in the café when you first came to town?”
“Your old boyfriend?” I tease.
“Well, you’re not too far off. It was his son I had dated.” Her gaze cuts to me. “Mark Morgan.”
“Wait.” I pause as the name bounces around my head—first, Mark Morgan and then Mark’s Reality. The puzzle pieces snap together as I figure it out. I knew there was a reason behind her not wanting the old man’s son to help. “Mark Morgan? The same Mark I talk to at Liam’s practice?”
“Yep.” She pops the P and shakes her head. “Ethan came to visit his cousin Mark right after graduation. I’m not going to lie. I fell hard and fast for Ethan. We tried to stay away from each other, but it became too much. I broke up with Mark, and a week later, Ethan and I were dating. Secretly at first.”
I shift in my seat, trying hard to remain stoic. The last thing I want to hear is how she and Ethan got together. Or how much she loves him. Not when all I want to do is chew on those pink, plush lips of hers. “How did Mark take it when it came out you two were dating?”
“Not well. It pissed his mother off, but I wasn’t overly concerned. At that time, my biggest goal was to leave town. I knew my ticket out of here wouldn’t be staying with Mark. That’s the only rationalization I can come up with for my next actions. Two months into dating, I became pregnant.” She takes another drink and continues to stare into the darkness. “We got married, and I moved as soon as he was stationed. I followed him everywhere he went.”
Her voice deadpans, and I get the feeling that wasn’t what she was going after. “So, it worked out? You got to leave.”
“That part of the fairy tale came true.”
I want to press for more, but I’m also half afraid of what she’ll say. “That doesn’t sound bitchy to me.”
“Dumping Mark for his cousin wasn’t exactly nice. And once I run into Mark’s mom, I’ll get another reminder about how shitty of a person I am. Mr. Morgan is sweet as they come, but his wife is as mean as a snake. As you know, Mark has a son around Liam’s age. I suspect she blames me for that happening. If I hadn’t left him, he wouldn’t have been heartbroken, and he wouldn’t have knocked someone up.”
“Twisted way of looking at things, but you were young. It sounds like you didn’t love Mark, anyway.”
“I didn’t love Ethan, either.” Her voice is barely over a whisper. A single tear runs down her cheek before she turns to look at me. “That’s where the bitchy part comes in. Lust and love mean two different things. Once the newness wore off, I found myself married, pregnant, and in a different town, away from family and friends. I grew to resent my choices.”
My breath hitches. This conversation steered in a very different direction than where I thought it was heading. I don’t even know how to
respond.
“Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t give my kids up for anything.”
“Agreed. They’re awesome kids.”
“But I wish I had done things differently. Does it make me a horrible person for not loving my husband?”
I swallow past the huge lump of guilt that sits in my throat, threatening to expose the fraud that I am. Now would be an excellent time to speak up, but I can’t seem to formulate words. I don’t want to betray my friend’s wish. Even though the thoughts I’m having aren’t too loyal.
“No. You can’t make the feelings be there no matter how hard you try.” Believe me. I should know.
“But I feel so bad. I had already met with an attorney and the divorce papers prepared. I was waiting for him to get back home to file them.”
Her admission comes as a surprise. Did Ethan know? I try thinking back to our last conversations. He complained about her but never mentioned divorce. I’m sure of it.
“And he never made it back.” Her voice cracks and the sound is like a force driving me to her. I don’t hesitate and pull her into me.
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault he died.” I reserve that spot. “A failed marriage isn’t your fault either. It’s a simple case of marrying too young.” I still don’t like the idea he kept her from obtaining her dream. But who am I to judge? I never got married. I never had the desire, but one thing I do know. It takes two people for a marriage to work, but only one for it to fail. After spending countless nights with her husband, I know where the fault lies. And it’s not the beautiful redhead in front of me.
She bats her glossy green eyes at me. “Do you believe that?”
“I do.”
“Thank you,” she whispers as she holds my stare.
I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe it was too much wine or too much vulnerability between us. Or perhaps it’s from the incredible pull she has over me. Whatever the reason, I lean down and brush my lips against hers. I meant for it to be a quick gesture. But her body stiffens only for a beat and then melts against me. I can’t pull away. She opens her mouth, and I accept the invitation with a greedy determination. I don’t think about how wrong this is or how I may ruin the friendship we’ve built. All I can think about is how incredible her body feels pressed against me.
And, oh God, does she feel good against me. Soft curves and pure desire. It’s a lethal combination.
Our bodies yearn for this.
And despite that our time together has been short, this kiss feels like years in the making. As if we’ve been waiting for each other.
Her lips on mine.
Our tongues tango to a beat well overdue.
It feels like the most natural thing in the world.
Like we belong together.
My hands grip around her small frame, fighting every urge to cup her breasts and demand more. But sweet Jesus, I want more.
I want her legs wrapped around my waist as I drive into her and bring her over the edge.
Small groans vibrate through my body, and I can’t tell if they’re coming from her or me. My erection strains against my shorts where it’ll have to remain. Stealing her kiss is enough greed for tonight.
I pull back and take in her rapid pants and sexy swollen lips. If that wasn’t enough to bring me to my knees, the yearning in her eyes that screams don’t stop sure does.
“Fuck, Mackenzie. I knew you’d be incredible to taste, but that didn’t even begin to satisfy my hunger for you.”
Want and desire dance in those beautiful eyes as conflict frames her stare. I stand abruptly, needing to get away from her before I cause further damage. Or do something we may regret.
“Thanks for the evening.” I lean down and give a chaste kiss to her forehead before seeing myself out. I don’t know where to go from here, but damn if that wasn’t the hottest kiss of my life. And soon, I’ll be thinking about how good she’ll feel in my arms as I relieve the pressure in my pants.
Chapter Eighteen
Mackenzie
“There you are, dear. Miles said he ran into you at Better Buzz.”
Crap, I almost made it. Cringing from the nasally voice ringing from behind me, I place the groceries in my back seat and plant the fakest smile I can muster before turning to face the last person I want to see. But considering I was never good enough for her son back then, I’m sure her opinion about me hasn’t changed in these past eleven years. “Mrs. Morgan, it’s so good to see you. How have you been?”
She gives me a once-over. Despite wanting to crawl inside my car and drive any direction that leads away from her, I stand taller. I won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing how she intimidates me. Although I don’t understand why I seek her approval. I think part of me still feels guilty for how things ended with Mark. When she and Miles came to Ethan’s funeral, they didn’t talk to me outside of their condolences. It didn’t matter at the time. I was still dazed. Ethan and I may have been having marital problems, but his death still came as a shock. It hurts knowing my kids will never have that father figure in their life. Ethan may not have been around much, but he was still an authoritative figure. He was still their father. Now they have no one.
“As you can imagine, we had to deal with the shock of losing Ethan. But life’s been treating us well. Mark and the other boys have etched out a good life for themselves.” She pats my hand as if I’m a child. “Sorry we didn’t get to talk much during the funeral. We had to get back. You know Miles never likes to be away from those vines.”
“I remember. Thanks for showing up.” I don’t know what more to say. Talking to her makes me edgy. I glance around the parking lot, looking for an escape, but come up empty.
Her gaze falls to my empty ring finger. Her lips flatten as if she disapproves. “Yes, well, I feel so sorry for your boys. They really need to have their father.”
She’s parroting my exact thoughts, but the words seem vile coming from her. My first instinct is to tell her my sons will be fine. There are plenty of single mothers whose children turn out great. But arguing against this woman is futile. I do the next best thing and hold my tongue.
“Mark’s a good father. He’s always doing everything with his son.”
“I’m not surprised. He has a good role model.” Too bad he’ll never know what a good mother is like.
“Yes, he does. He tells me your oldest is in the same soccer league as our little Toby.”
“It appears so.”
“And the new guy”—she taps her chin as if in thought—“Nate, I believe, brings him. Do you think that’s wise, dear? It’s so—”
“He’s been a tremendous help. Especially since Mom’s taking care of Stan.” I feel the blood drain from my face. I should’ve known she’d go there. There’s no way I’m answering her question. It’s nothing but a trap. One I don’t want to get tangled in.
“Yes.” She drags out the word, making me cringe. Why do I always feel she’s talking down to me? “Such an unfortunate accident. Give them my best, would you?”
Taking this as my out, I flash another fake smile. “I certainly will, Mrs. Morgan. I’m heading there right now. You have a good day.”
And with those parting words, I slide into my car and buckle in. Ugh. She came close to saying the words I’ve been dreading to hear—it’s too soon. Part of me knows she’s right. But after that toe-curling, make your panties wet kiss, I don’t care. Or rather, I hadn’t until Mrs. Judgy came along.
I grip the steering wheel tighter and press the gas pedal harder. I can’t get to Mom’s house quick enough. But damn it. What if she’s right? Will the entire town think this way? I drive in an enraged haze, doubting every decision I’ve ever made. How can one woman get under my skin so badly?
* * *
“That woman is infuriating.” I stalk into Mom’s house and toss my purse on the couch, unable to let go of my anger.
“Who, dear?”
“Mrs. Morgan.”
Mom’s sigh is almost palpable as
I pace alongside the sofa. “What did she say?”
I glance toward the den. Sounds from their video game resonate down the hallway. Yeah, my mom is the cool grandma who owns a PlayStation. Hence, one more reason the boys enjoy coming here. With zero chance of them overhearing, I continue in a hushed tone, “She made references about how inappropriate it is for Nate to take the boys during Liam’s practices.”
Mom lets out a harrumph. “I’m not surprised. That woman will never forgive you for breaking her son’s heart.”
“Good God, it’s been over a decade.”
“What can I say? She’s a bitch.”
“Mom!”
“I know, but I speak the truth. It may not seem like it now, but the best thing you did was dump that Mark. She would’ve been an awful mother-in-law.”
There’s so much truth to those words, but I can’t believe my mom voiced it. “She makes me feel so guilty about everything. As if I used bad judgment in every choice I’ve made.” Like leaving Mark, wanting to divorce, and enjoying that kiss a little too much because I definitely wanted that kiss to lead to other things. Jesus, that man possesses perfect control. And if he can kiss that well, how good is he in other areas? I’m getting hot just thinking about it.
It’s only been a little over three months.
“You’re letting that woman get to you. Stop it, right now. She’s nobody. If you had stayed, you would’ve been swallowed whole in this town. You needed to expand your wings first before knowing what you liked. I’m glad you’re back, but there’s a difference in you. You’re more settled.”
“You think so?”
“I do.” Mom shifts in her seat as her eyes widen. “Now, tell me about the hot, tattooed guy.”
“His name is Nate.” I fight the smile threatening to overtake my face, but I don’t think I win.
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