The Day He Kissed Her Page 2

  She glanced to her right, over to her best friend Jake Edwards, who sat on a low-slung settee with the love of his life, Raine, across his lap. The two of them were talking quietly, intimately, Raine’s hands in Jake’s hair as she bent forward to kiss him. The knot in her throat tightened even more. If ever she felt like a third wheel, now was the time.

  She should never have come. She didn’t do family. She just didn’t.

  So why was she here?

  Oh. Right.

  She was that pathetic woman on the fringe who was invited to these sorts of things because she had no one else. No friends other than those gathered on this deck and no family close by—though that was by choice.

  Lily had learned a long time ago that you couldn’t pick your family. She knew that blood didn’t always mean easy and happy, or even wanted—and it sure as hell didn’t mean love.

  In the St. Clare household, the mantra had always been sink or swim, and Lily had swum as far away as she could, as soon as she could.

  Now here she was, settled in Crystal Lake since January, about to revisit the night she’d lost control, which was something she hadn’t done in years.

  “Shit,” she muttered.

  She was pretty sure Mac Draper never thought he would see her again. Hell, he hadn’t asked for a name and she’d never provided one. That night hadn’t been about getting to know each other. It had been strictly a physical reaction—a need to be with someone, to matter to someone even if only for a night.

  She shook her head. Who was she kidding?

  She’d been drunk and lonely, and the mysterious hot guy in the cab had scratched an itch that needed scratching. It was nothing more.

  Lily hadn’t found out his name until she moved into Raine’s stone cottage—the same place Mac had taken her to New Year’s Eve—and seen photos of the guy. While she’d stared at the pictures of a younger-looking man with Cain, Jake, Raine, and the deceased Jesse, she’d listened to Jake ramble on about the Bad Boys.

  Lily should have packed up then and left town. But she hadn’t and now…

  God, the thought of facing Mackenzie, here, with his friends… With Jake looking on? Steven and Marnie? Ugh, no.

  It was time for this third wheel to roll the hell along.

  Ignoring her hot cheeks, she turned quickly, her only thought to get as far away from Mac Draper as she could. She had a plan. She’d hide out at the cottage until he left town. From what little she knew about him, he wasn’t close to his family and he had some fancy job in New York City. He was most likely only home for the holiday anyway.

  Okay. This was good. This would work.

  “Lily, are you alright?”

  Her head snapped up and she attempted a smile as Marnie Edwards walked toward her, a cocktail in her hand, a gentle smile on her face. As always, her heart warmed when she saw the woman. It was then that she realized why she’d come. As much as she didn’t do family, there was something about the Edwardses that made her feel wanted.

  They were good people. Everything her family was not.

  “I’m fine,” Lily said quickly. “I just…I feel kind of sick to my stomach.” She rubbed her belly for good measure.

  “Oh my,” Marnie said with concern. “I hope it wasn’t the shrimp.”

  “The what?”

  Damn. She heard Cain’s voice, and it sounded a hell of a lot closer than it did a minute before. They were heading this way. She tried to sidestep Marnie, but the woman looked really worried and wouldn’t budge.

  “The shrimp cocktail? Did you have any of it?”

  The shrimp.

  “Oh.” Lily cleared her throat. “I might have had one, but I’m sure that’s not it. I wasn’t feeling one hundred percent this morning, and I probably should have stayed home. I think I’m coming down with something.”

  She coughed for good measure, but only managed to draw looks from Jake and Raine—and from Steven as he walked outside from in the house.

  “Christ, Lily. You sound like a damn cat with a hairball,” Jake said.

  “I think I’m going to have to leave,” Lily stated, ignoring Jake. She couldn’t look at him because he knew her well enough to know she was bullshitting. He’d know something was up.

  Lily inched forward and then froze when she heard that voice. That deep, husky voice with a touch of sandpaper that sounded as if every word was soaked in sin.

  That voice she hadn’t forgotten.

  She clenched her hands so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. Hard.

  What. The. Hell.

  “I’ve really got to go, Marnie.”

  Her stomach rolled so badly, she’d broken out in a sweat, and Lily thought she really was going to be sick.

  Footsteps on the stairs below made her jump, and she gave Marnie a quick hug, still ignoring Jake as she quickly crossed the deck and tried to smile at Steven Edwards.

  “I’m so sorry. I really need to get home. I just…I don’t feel well.” God, she was overdoing it. She gulped in some air. “I hope you understand.” The words came out in a jumbled mess, but Steven nodded and moved aside so she could escape into the house.

  “Hey! Lily! What’s going on?” Jake’s question hung in the air.

  Cain and Maggie were on the deck now, and her panic was such that for a moment Lily couldn’t breathe. She didn’t glance back, and with her hand on the sliding glass doors, she spoke.

  “I have to go home, Jake. I’ll call you later.”

  She pushed her way into the house and ran across the smooth stone tiles until she reached the front door. She yanked it open, slammed it shut behind her, and then rested against it for a moment.

  Her entire body shook and she let out a high-pitched giggle that wouldn’t be out of place in the local loony bin. Feeling a bit light-headed, Lily smoothed the front of her pale-blue J. Mendel halter dress and pushed off from the door, her white Fendi flats making no sound as she crossed the porch and took the steps down.

  Newly planted pink and purple petunias lined the walkway and followed the driveway down to the road. The lawn—thick and luxurious—had been freshly mown for the first time that morning and the smell of the grass clippings reminded her of summer. Normally she’d take a moment and enjoy it but not today. Nope.

  The voices from out back echoed in her ear, and she picked up the pace, hurrying toward her car. Just before she reached her vehicle, she slid to a stop and swore—she swore like a trucker who’d just spent the last two weeks in confession.

  Damn. Was nothing going to go right today?

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Her BMW was parked behind Cain’s truck, which in turn was parked behind his father’s car. A car that normally would have been in the garage, but for some reason it wasn’t, and there was no way for her to drive forward and turn around because of it.

  She couldn’t back out of the driveway either.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  There was a sleek, sliver Mercedes behind her car and no room to maneuver around the damn thing. The idiot driver had pulled up much too close to her bumper.

  She had a feeling she knew who the idiot driver was.

  She stood there with her keys in her hand, chewing on her bottom lip as she glanced at the Edwardses’ beautiful front lawn. The ground was still soft from the winter thaw and all the rain they’d had lately, so it was insane to even consider it, but dammit, she had no choice.

  Lily gulped in a huge shaky breath, panicking when she heard Jake’s voice from out back, and she shot forward, keys jangling in her fingers as she struggled to press the unlock button on the fob.

  She would do it. She would drive across Steven’s lovely grass and to hell with the consequence. She’d pay whatever it cost to fix the damage and hope they didn’t think she was a nut bar, which she was kinda acting like.

&n
bsp; Pushing her long, blond hair out of the way, Lily fingered her key fob and let rip another round of swearing as the damn thing slipped out of her hands and landed underneath her car.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  She took a step back and peered beneath the vehicle. The fob was just out of reach and Lily knew she was going to have to get on her knees to grab it. On her knees. In this dress.

  Her favorite J. Mendel dress.

  Quickly she snuck a glance behind her and then got down to business—no, scratch that, she got down on all fours like a dog and had to lean way over in order to get to the stupid thing. By the time her fingers closed around the small black fob, she was out of breath, pissed off, and her knees hurt like hell because they dug into the concrete.

  She inched her way backward and…

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to box you in.”

  His voice came from nowhere. Well, actually that was wrong. He was right behind her and she was on all fours with her ass stuck in the air.

  Jesus H. Christ.

  Her eyes squeezed shut. She took a moment.

  “Uh, are you okay?” he asked.

  And then she took another moment.

  “Jake said you needed to leave, so I’ll just move my car onto the road and you can back out.”

  She nodded, lips tight, eyes still squeezed shut.

  She heard his shoe scuff against the concrete, but then it stopped. Why did he stop? Why wasn’t he moving away from her? Everything inside Lily was wound so tight she felt as if she was going to explode.

  “Are you sure you’re—”

  “Will you just leave already?” she snapped. She sank back onto her haunches, shoulders rigid, jaw clenched so tight it was painful. Hair blew across her face, and she yanked it away, tucked it behind her ear, and wished that she could just disappear.

  “Sure thing, sweet cakes.”

  Sweet cakes? Really?

  She let out a weak breath and waited.

  And waited some more.

  “I don’t have all day,” she muttered.

  “What was that?”

  He was playing with her. She heard it in his voice.

  “I said I don’t have all day, so if you could please move your car, I’d appreciate it.”

  Mackenzie Draper moved alright—he moved closer to her instead of toward his vehicle. He was so close that his scent drifted over her. In her. He was all kinds of sexy musk, clean soap, and something that was entirely unique to him. Some intangible secret ingredient that her body picked up on.

  It was annoying as hell.

  What the heck was he playing at? Flush with anger now, Lily slowly got to her feet, though she was careful not to turn toward him.

  “Where are you from?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then why do you care?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why are you still here?” She managed to say through gritted teeth. Her Boston accent was more pronounced when she was pissed, so Lily was willing to bet he’d have no problem figuring it out on his own.

  “I’ll go when you turn around so that I can see if the front of you is as hot as the back end. ’Cause the back end is smokin’.”

  “That’s incredibly sexist.”

  “I know,” he said softly.

  For a heartbeat there was nothing but the warm breeze in her hair.

  And then he spoke. “Boston.”

  She froze and blinked away an image of Mackenzie behind her, inside her, his hands on her hips, his breath at her neck. His strangled whisper, “Boston” as he came. That’s what he had called her that night.

  Boston.

  Shit.

  Slowly, Lily turned around and sucked in a breath at their close proximity. If ever a man was made in the image of a God, it was Mackenzie Draper.

  He was dressed casually in a pair of worn jeans, bare feet shoved into Birkenstocks, and a plain white T-shirt stretched tight across his chest. His blond hair was brushed back off his face, waving almost to his shoulders, while his electric-green eyes bored into her with an intensity that made Lily a tad uncomfortable. There was something wholly alpha in that look.

  He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and the dark stubble on his jaw only made him look sexier. His mouth curved into a slow grin, and Jesus, her nipples went hard.

  Lily crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. She glared at him and didn’t budge when he moved so close that she could count his eyelashes, when he moved so close that that damn secret ingredient of his—the one that made her weak—was all up in her business. Christ, if he could bottle it, he’d be a billionaire.

  The pulse at the base of his neck moved rapidly and she knew he was as affected by their close proximity as she was.

  “So,” he said slowly, rolling out the word as if it was a secret. “That phone number you gave me was bogus.”

  She considered not answering him, but something about his attitude pissed her off.

  “Oops.” She thrust her chin forward. “Didn’t think you’d actually call.”

  He bent forward and Lily held her breath as his mouth settled just below her ear, a whisper away from her skin.

  “I called as soon as I woke up. I wasn’t happy that you were gone.”

  She swallowed thickly, aware that the air was supercharged with something and it was that something that had her worried. She’d never been so physically affected by a man, and it scared her because it told her that she was close to losing control again. Just like she’d done New Year’s Eve.

  With him.

  Over and over again.

  And control was something she wasn’t going to give up easily. She’d worked too hard for it. Come too far.

  “Really,” she managed to say, refusing to back down. “Why?”

  His mouth grazed over her skin, and she shuddered as he blew hot air across her ear before tugging on her lobe. He didn’t answer right away. He took a moment and let the tension drag out before he cupped her chin and forced her to look up at him. Forced her to look up into eyes that smoldered.

  Eyes that make her weak, and weak wasn’t something she was interested in. Yet that control thing was vanishing like water down the drain, and for the first time, Lily felt a stab of fear.

  “Boston,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “I wanted to talk because we weren’t finished.” He let that settle. “We were far from finished.”

  Chapter 3

  Mac rolled out of bed at the crack of dawn tired, pissed off, and horny as hell.

  He’d barely slept, which explained his grumpy mood, but there was nothing he could do about that. And as for the other situation—he glanced down at his aching dick—a hot shower and a handful of conditioner should just about do it.

  Christ. What the hell was wrong with him? It was as if time rolled back and he was seventeen all over again.

  He thought of Boston and scowled.

  She’d blown him off like yesterday’s news.

  She’d politely asked him to take his hands off of her—which he did—and then she’d told him to move his “fucking” car or she was going to drive her BMW across Steven Edwards’s lawn.

  Something in her eyes told him that she would do it too.

  What the hell? Everyone knew that Steven Edwards was anal about his grass, and the fact that she was willing to drive across it told Mac just how badly she wanted to get away from him.

  That’s what stuck in his craw this morning. He wasn’t being an asshole, but shit, he’d never had a woman bail on him like that. He was the one who left. The one who made the rules. The one who didn’t want a commitment.

  Christ, even he’d never done an escape in the middle of the night. There’d never been the need because he ha
d always been clear on the rules. He was up-front about that shit.

  Mackenzie stared at his reflection in the mirror as he turned on the shower. He was a good-looking guy, there was no way around it, but he was more than just a pretty face. In fact, his looks were the least interesting thing about him as far as he was concerned, mostly because he was the spitting image of his father.

  He was so much more than the bastard had ever been. Mac was smart, graduated with honors, and was on track to become a partner at the architectural firm he worked for in New York City. He was driven, dedicated, and when it came to the ladies, he was candid and honest.

  He showed them a good time between the sheets and out of them, but when it came to anything else, he wasn’t signing up for it.

  So what was it about this Lily that had his interest?

  She was gorgeous, but she wasn’t his usual cup of tea. He’d always been attracted to leggy, athletic, brunettes—Lily was curvy and blond. Which was why New Year’s Eve had been such a surprise. She’d opened up that cab door and something in her eyes got to him.

  It had been instant. Hot.

  Their connection had been undeniable, and that night had been one he’d thought of a lot over the last few months. Never had he been with a woman who’d responded so…naturally to him, without any reservations at all. It had been as if she’d known what he was going to do before he did.

  The hot water sprayed over his head and did nothing to temper the ache in his groin or the fantasies that played out in his head. He hadn’t said a word to Jake the day before even though he’d been dying to know her story—he’d just listened to a few casual conversations. He knew that Lily was a St. Clare, of the Boston St. Clares, and that she was a close friend of Jake’s.

  But that’s all he knew because he refused to dig deeper and ask the questions he wanted answers to. He had no idea why she was in Crystal Lake or what her deal was. He only knew that she wanted nothing to do with him and she was obviously embarrassed that they’d spent the night together.

  Subsequently, Mac’s mood didn’t improve a bit, and he was still pissed off when he arrived back at the Edwardses’ an hour after he’d rolled his ass out of bed.