The Day He Kissed Her Page 15

  Mac lay back on his pillow and gazed at the ceiling. To each his own and all that. He might not be into the commitment thing, but neither was Lily, and right now the two of them together was just about perfect.

  In fact they were better than perfect if there was such a thing.

  He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, staring up at the ceiling and enjoying the feel of Lily in his bed, but eventually his neck cramped up and he moved gingerly, careful not to wake her.

  Mac slid out of bed and took a moment to watch Lily as she slumbered, totally unaware and vulnerable—there was something so sweet about the way she looked. She was still on her side, with one hand beneath the pillow and the other curled under her chin like a child. That long mane of hair was all over the place—tangled beyond belief—and the indent of her waist, the curve of her hip, and the gentle slope at the small of her back was something he’d like to have fucking framed.

  He couldn’t help himself.

  Mac bent over and kissed a spot at the back of her neck just under her hairline. She shifted slightly and murmured something that he couldn’t understand, but she never woke up. He pulled the covers over her and tucked them under her chin before heading out into the main room of the cottage.

  He was restless and wasn’t sure why, because Lord knows he had no energy left. Mac was in shape, he hit the gym hard, but after the intense workout he’d had with Lily, there were places on him that were a little sore.

  He chuckled. What a problem to have.

  It was a good sore.

  After a quick shower, he pulled on an old pair of faded green cargos and padded out to the kitchen where he made a pot of coffee and then sat at the counter where he’d left his laptop. He booted up the thing and stared at the screen absently, leaning back in his chair as he gazed around the empty room. It was quiet—too quiet. Generally, he liked to listen to music while he worked, but he didn’t want to chance waking Lily.

  He thought that maybe she should sleep, because he was already planning on round two later. In the meantime, he may as well get some work done. He took a sip of strong, black coffee and got to it.

  ***

  Several hours later, he slid from his chair and rolled his shoulders. With sunlight streaming into the place, there was no way to hide what his last girlfriend would have called “dumpy chic.” Sure the decorators hadn’t been called in since 1995, but Mac kinda liked the orange and green and cedar.

  The place looked lived-in and comfortable.

  He’d just cracked a few eggs into the skillet and was whistling as he did so—when the hell did he ever whistle?—when he heard a knock at the door. It was just before eight in the morning, and he wasn’t expecting anyone, but Mac turned the heat down and crossed the room. He glanced out at the driveway when he passed by the large windows in the family room and paused.

  It was his mother’s car. Huh.

  With a quick glance back at the bedroom, he opened the door with a smile, the one he saved for all those times he got caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing—which was kind of ridiculous considering he was thirty-five.

  “Hey, Ma…”

  But the words died on his lips when he spied his sister standing there and, a few feet behind her, his nephew, Liam.

  “I’m so sorry to bother you on a Sunday, Mac.”

  He could tell that she was nervous and he knew that didn’t bode well. “It’s alright. What’s up?”

  She looked past him. “Um, can we come in?”

  Mac hesitated, but Becca didn’t seem to notice, or rather, she chose not to notice, because she pushed past him and beckoned the kid to follow. “Come on, Liam.”

  Mac stood aside and waited for his nephew to pass before closing the door behind them. That’s when he noticed Liam’s bag, and he shot a look to his sister.

  “What’s going on, Becca?”

  She hesitated, her eyes sliding away from his, and that pretty much told him all he needed to know. Whatever was going on couldn’t be good.

  “I need Liam to stay here for a few days.”

  Liam? What? No.

  Mac shook his head and only stopped himself from becoming a total asshole when he realized that his nephew’s eyes were on him. The kid had his hands buried in his front pockets as if he were digging for gold, and if he pushed them down any more, he was going to lose his pants. Something about the way his shoulders were hunched got to Mac, and he glared at his sister.

  It was always the kids who got the shit end of the stick.

  “I’m going to ask you one more time. What the hell is going on?”

  Becca licked her lips and motioned to Liam. “Why don’t you go down and have a look at the dock? Maybe your uncle can take you fishing one afternoon, or—”

  “Yeah,” Liam said. “Cuz he’s so excited to have me here.”

  Liam pushed past his mother and headed outside, leaving the siblings alone. Mac studied his sister for a few moments before he headed back into the kitchen. What now?

  “I could use a coffee if you don’t mind.”

  Mac grimaced as he eyed the machine. He could be a total prick and tell her he had none left, or he could be the brother that he knew she needed right now and make her a damn pot of coffee. If Lily hadn’t been in his bedroom, it would have been a no-brainer, but she was and he had no desire to mix his fucked-up family business with what he had going on with Lily. No one should bear witness to the screwed-up situation that he couldn’t manage to escape no matter how hard he tried.

  “Sorry, I don’t have cream.”

  “Oh,” Becca said. “That’s okay.”

  “I don’t have any sugar either.”

  She played with the edge of his laptop and shrugged. “That’s fine.”

  He could play this game all day but so could Becca. Mac knew when he was done for, so he walked over to his bedroom and closed the door. When he turned back around, his sister was staring at him with big eyes.

  “Shit, Mackenzie. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had someone here.”

  “There’s no one—”

  Becca’s eyebrow shot up. “Then why did you just close the door?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, walking over to the cupboard. He pulled out two mugs and set them aside. “It’s not like it would have stopped you if you had.”

  Mackenzie tossed the old grains and got the machine set up before he leaned against the counter. Becca was quiet, fiddling with the cup he’d set out for her, and he knew by the way she was avoiding his eyes that he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. The bruise on her cheek was now a lovely shade of yellow, but the swelling had gone down and sometime between yesterday and today she’d tossed the sling her left arm had been in.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, Becs?”

  “Promise me you won’t get mad.”

  Okay. This wasn’t good.

  Mackenzie clenched his teeth together and tried to relax, but his hands fisted at his side as his thoughts turned to his asshole brother-in-law. He knew where this was going. He’d seen it all before.

  “I…David called last night, and I need to go and see him.”

  “No,” Mac shot back, pushing away from the counter as his anger began to boil. It began to boil hard, and he put some distance between himself and Becca. “Are you kidding me? Jesus Christ, Becs. I thought you had more sense than that.”

  “Mac. He’s…it’s just to talk things out.”

  Mackenzie rounded the corner of the countertop and glared at his sister. “Let me guess. He loves you and he’s sorry that he beat your face in. He didn’t mean to hurt you and he sure as hell didn’t mean to almost break your arm.”

  Becca winced but shoved her chin up at him. “Goddammit, Mac. Keep your voice down. I don’t need your bimbo of the day hearing my business.”

  Ma
c had a moment where he saw red. It was a bright-crimson sheet of anger that washed over him, and he had to physically move away from his sister because he didn’t trust himself.

  “What is it that you think you’re going to accomplish by going back to him?”

  “Mac, you don’t understand. He’s my husband and he’s—”

  “He’s a fucking prick who used you as a punching bag. That’s not a husband. That’s not a father. That’s a coward and a bully, and you deserve a hell of a lot more than someone like that.”

  “Mac—”

  “Don’t Mac me. He beat you and put you in a goddamn hospital. What the hell do you want me to say? Didn’t you see enough of that when we were kids? How many times did Dad slap the shit out of Mom, and when he got tired of that, he turned to us? How many times did he say he was sorry and that it wouldn’t happen again?”

  Her eyes got shiny, as if they were full of tears, but Mackenzie didn’t give a rat’s ass.

  “How many times did we go to school when it was a hundred goddamn degrees outside, wearing long-sleeve shirts because we were too embarrassed for our friends to see the bruises on our arms? Or the belt marks on our backs? Ten times? Fifty? One hundred?”

  Jesus, Mac was so angry. He clenched and unclenched his fists, eyeing the punching bag he’d installed in the family room.

  Becca stood. “David is not our father. He’s not! And I need to see him, Mackenzie. I need to talk to him.”

  Mac threw his hands into the air. Gone were all the warm, fuzzy feelings he’d woken with—but he should have known. This here, this brutality was his reality, and he would never get away from it.

  He thought of Liam, of the lost and angry look in the kid’s eyes, and he saw himself. He saw the broken kid he’d been, and it filled him with such blinding rage that for a moment he couldn’t see clearly.

  He took a step toward his sister, his face black and angry. “How the hell can you do this to your kid? How can you be that goddamn selfish?”

  “Mac,” her voice trembled. “Please, listen to me.” She blew out a long breath and wiped at her face. “I need to do this but give me some credit. I’m not Mom, and he’s not Dad. We need to figure some things out and just need a few days. A week or two at the most. Just David and I. I just need to…”

  He’d heard that before too.

  “You know what? I don’t give a shit.”

  And he didn’t. He didn’t want to get involved. What the hell was the point? He could write the ending to this story in his sleep. Mac took a step back and shook his head. If his sister wanted to be that pathetic, well, she could go right ahead. She was an adult, and it was her life.

  He glanced out the windows that faced the water and spied Liam standing at the edge of the beach.

  “Why’s the kid here? Why can’t he stay with Mom?”

  Becca’s bottom lip trembled a bit. “Mom is teaching Bible School all week and well, Liam’s a bit old for it. He…he asked if he could stay with you. He had fun the other night, and I think that he thought you would be okay with him staying for a few days, but obviously I was wrong.”

  Something twisted inside Mac, something hard and painful, and he glanced out the window again. He didn’t have time for a kid. Christ, he was in the middle of this big project for Jake, and there was Lily…

  Liam tossed a rock out over the water, and it skipped a few times before disappearing beneath the surface. He shoved his hands into his pockets again and hunched his shoulders, head down as he stared at his feet.

  It was like looking at himself when he was young.

  Mackenzie dragged his eyes back to his sister. He was probably going to regret this—what the hell did he know about kids?

  “He can stay,” Mac said. “I’m going to be busy and probably won’t have much time for him but…”

  His sister launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around his chest in a hug that was hard and desperate. “Thank you, Mac. I knew I could count on you.”

  Everything inside him was coiled tight, but after a few seconds, that part of him that still cared loosened up a bit, and he slipped his arms around his sister, holding her, supporting her when the tears started up again.

  Chapter 19

  Lily waited until Mac’s sister left before she ventured out of the bedroom. The cottage was empty, and for a moment, she stood in the middle of the kitchen not really sure what to do.

  She was still reeling from what she’d overheard and felt awful for listening in on a private family conversation, but it’s not as if she’d done it on purpose. Mac’s loud voice had woken her, and at that point, there was no way she couldn’t listen—not even if she’d shoved her head under the covers and slid beneath the pillows.

  Dressed in an old T-shirt she’d found in the bedroom, Lily pushed her hair out of the way and peeked out the window that overlooked the lake. Mac was down there talking to a young boy who looked about nine or ten. They stood at the edge of the water, both of them with their hands shoved into their front pockets.

  The boy was as blond as Mackenzie with the same build—wide shoulders, tapered waist, and long legs—and if she’d never met them before, she would think he was Mac’s. She watched them for a few more minutes and decided it was time for her to go when she felt something stirring in her breast. She didn’t know what the hell it was, but she sure as heck knew she needed to shut it down.

  Last night had been amazing, but it was over and time for her to go. She and Mac had a sex thing—nothing more—and a relaxed morning together wasn’t in the cards.

  Her overnight bag was still in the truck, along with her cell phone and purse. She moved gingerly because there were a lot of parts on her body that ached, which, considering the night she’d had, was par for the course. She opened the door and slipped outside, spying a pair of Mackenzie’s sandals—thank God. She slipped her feet into them, nearly falling on her ass twice as she made her way up the uneven path that led to the driveway, but it was worth it—the path and driveway was strewn with rocks.

  As luck would have it, the truck was locked—when the hell he’d had time to think about locking the stupid thing she had no clue—and she stared through the window at her bag.

  “Dammit.”

  She’d never been in this situation before. Not really. When she’d been “good-time Lily,” any sex she had was at a party or in a dorm room or some back alley of a club. She had sex for the express purpose of having sex because she was a St. Clare, sister to the crazy Maddison St. Clare, and well, why not give them what they all expected? It had seemed somehow easier.

  Lily never thought she deserved better anyway, and considering sex wasn’t exactly something she liked, doing the nasty with a stranger didn’t matter. At least not back then. It was more of a way for her to mean something to someone, even if it was only for a few hours.

  So there’d been no sleepovers. No waking up in bed with someone. No awkward morning conversations…or continuations of the previous night’s activities. She’d never wanted any of that.

  Which is why she was a little shocked that she’d been so disappointed to wake up alone, with no sight of Mac. Instead, he’d been arguing with his sister, and now he seemed to have forgotten all about Lily.

  Carefully making her way back down the path, she slipped back inside the cottage. Mac was still down at the dock with the boy, but now they were sitting side by side, gazing out at the water.

  There was something bittersweet about the two of them together, and for a second time, Lily had to mentally pull away. She walked into the kitchen and spied Mac’s cell on the counter. Grabbing it up, she punched in Jake’s number, and he answered on the second ring.

  “Draper, what the hell? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for the last hour.”

  Lily made a face. Ten guesses as to what Jake wanted to discuss with Mackenzie. In some ways, she prefer
red having no one who really gave a damn about her.

  “I’ll make sure to pass that along.”

  She thought that maybe Jake fell off of something because there was a whole lot of cursing and then he must have stubbed his toe because the cursing moved to a level of epic she hadn’t heard in a good, long while. And then the barking started.

  Jake must have closed himself into the bathroom or something because all of a sudden there was nothing.

  “Shit, Lily. Sorry. I—”

  “Did you fall out of bed?”

  “What?”

  “Bed. Did you fall out of it?” She moved back to the window, her eyes on the two boys down near the water.

  “Yeah. Stubbed my fu…my damn big toe, and it’s not funny.”

  “I’m not laughing.” She was too distracted to laugh.

  Jake cleared his throat. “So you’re with Mac.”

  “Yeah. I’m at his place.”

  There were a few moments of silence. “Okay,” he said quietly.

  “Is it weird for you?” she asked, suddenly curious.

  She could picture the wheels turning in Jake’s mind and leaned against the sofa, balancing her butt on the edge as she continued to watch Mac and his nephew.

  “No. I mean, kinda.” She heard him exhale. “Look, it’s none of my business.”

  “You mean Raine told you that it was none of your business.”

  “Well, yeah, but…”

  “But?”

  “I can’t help worrying that this is gonna go south. You both mean a hell of a lot to me, and I don’t want to see either one of you hurt.”

  “We’re not kids,” she murmured.

  “No,” he said quietly. “You’re not.”

  “I need a favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “I need you to come get me.” Silence filled her ear. “Jake?”

  “Ah, sure. I can do that, but where’s Mac?”

  Her eyes were still on them, and Mac had moved into the boathouse, Liam following in his wake. Her throat tightened, and she took a moment to answer.