“Levi thought that was funny,” I remind her as she assumes her previous position.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean his family would have! What if something like that happens again? Dinner is going to be a disaster. What if someone starts talking about gravy, and then Mom uses that as a double entendre for Levi’s baby batter?”
“Baby batter?” I frown, not sure what she means.
She lifts her head and blinks at me. “His sperm.”
“Oh . . . ohhhhh.” My face scrunches up.
She lets out a huff of air.
“Listen, whatever happens, you and Levi will be fine. His parents will love you, so you have nothing to worry about.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Now finish getting ready, and come on.” I stand and pull her up by her hands. “Let’s go.”
“Right.” She shakes out her arms, then twists her neck side to side like she’s getting ready for a WWF match. “Let’s go.”
I follow her out of Levi’s bedroom and out of his apartment. In the hall, I stand back and out of the way while she meets Levi’s family. Seeing that she’s okay, I head into her apartment, where I find Libby hanging out watching TV with Fawn’s dog, Muffin. My aunts are busy working in the kitchen.
“Hey, girl.” I give Muffin a quick rubdown when she comes over to me, then lead her back across the room.
“Did Fawn finally come out of the bedroom?” Libby asks as I take a seat next to her on the couch.
“She did, but you will never believe what happened.”
“What?” She presses “Pause” on the remote, then turns to face me.
“Levi’s family showed up.”
“Shut up.”
“Cross my heart. They just got here.”
“Is she okay?” she asks, looking toward the door.
“Yeah. She was panicking, but she’s okay now.”
“Well, dinner is going to be interesting for sure,” she mumbles under her breath. I nod in agreement.
I have no idea just how true that statement is going to be.
“Mac!” Levi calls from across the room as soon as I walk into his apartment.
“Give me one second!” I shout back. I’m carrying a pie dish in my arms, so I take it into the kitchen and set it down on the counter.
“What’s up?” When I turn around, my entire world comes to a stop.
I’m face-to-face with Wesley.
“Wh—” I start to ask what he’s doing there, but Levi cuts me off.
“Mac, I want you to meet my partner, Wesley. Wesley, this is Fawn’s sister, Mac. Or Mackenzie.”
“Partner?” I whisper, staring at him while he stares back. I have no idea what to do. It’s so awkward after the way we left each other.
“Are you okay?” Fawn asks, touching my arm.
This snaps me out of it. I pull my gaze from Wesley’s to look at her.
“Yeah.” I blink and shake my head. “Sorry.”
I look at Wesley—or more accurately, I look at his ear—and mutter, “Sorry. It’s nice to meet you.”
I don’t offer to shake his hand. I don’t know what would happen if we were to touch again.
“You too,” he says.
I can hear the anger in his tone, and I fight back a cringe. I turn to face Fawn again.
“Mom said it’s time to get stuff set up so everyone can eat soon,” I remind her.
“Crap! The turkey!” she blurts out, turning to Levi. She rises up on tiptoe so she can kiss his cheek. “Get Wesley a beer,” she tells him. She looks at Wesley. “I’m glad you could come.”
“Thanks,” Wesley replies.
She smiles at him, then grabs my hand. “I need your help.”
“Sure.”
I follow her out of Levi’s place, breathing a sigh of relief that I wasn’t forced to be around Wesley for much longer. He fills me with too many mixed emotions.
I don’t know if I want to curl myself up against his chest or kick him in the shin. Who am I kidding? I definitely want to do both.
Chapter 3
MINE!
WESLEY
Grinding my teeth, I fight the urge to walk across the room and kiss the woman who has been haunting me for the last week. I can’t get her out of my head no matter how many times I kick my own ass all over the place. I still want her when I know I shouldn’t. She’s made it perfectly clear by taking off on me twice without looking back that she doesn’t want anything more from me. Unfortunately, my dick hasn’t gotten that memo.
Pulling my eyes from her, I try to focus on what Aiden is saying. Aiden, who also happens to be her dad. Fuck . . . How the hell did I end up in this situation?
I try to think by running my hand through my hair. I obviously had no idea when my partner, Levi, invited me over for Thanksgiving that I would be spending the day with Mackenzie’s family. If I had known that, I wouldn’t have shown.
Who the hell am I kidding? Of course I would have come—because I’m a fucking idiot who enjoys self-inflicted torture. There is something about Mackenzie, or Mac, as her family calls her, that I can’t get out of my head. It’s not that she’s beautiful, even though she is. No, it’s something else. She’s a mystery I want to solve. I want to find out what kind of woman she really is. Is she the sex kitten I met the first night, or the sporty girl standing a few feet away from me now, wearing worn jeans that fit her like a second skin and a long-sleeve top with the Mets logo on the front of it?
Taking a swig from my beer, I lock eyes with her. Her cheeks get pink across the room before she looks away. When her sister Fawn introduced us earlier, I could tell she was shocked to see me—and worried I’d disclose that we had met before, which annoys me since that’s exactly what I wanted to do.
I wanted to kiss her, to touch her in some way. But I had to hold myself back from doing just that. I have never felt a connection to another woman like the one I feel with her. Yes, the sex was unbelievable. The best I’ve ever had, but that’s not why I want her.
There’s something vulnerable about her, and that vulnerability calls to the protector in me. From the first moment I saw her in the bar, looking alone and lost, I gravitated to her. Then, after spending two hours talking and laughing with her, I knew I wanted more. More of her laughter, more of her wit, and more of her time. A hell of a lot more time. Which is why I chased after her when I woke up alone after the night we shared.
Feeling her eyes on me once more, I look at her again. I see a hint of arousal that she tries to hide, but it’s too late. I see it there, calling to me like a beacon. I don’t understand her at all. One minute she’s looking at me like she wants to rip off my clothes. The next she’s trying to get away from me as quickly as possible. Another mystery I need to solve.
“So what do you think?” Aiden asks.
I take a pull from my beer like I’m pondering his question. In reality, all my brain cells have gone south.
“Don’t tell me you’re a Republican?” He shakes his head, grinning.
“A man never tells,” I say.
He laughs at my response. Thank fuck, because I have no idea what we were talking about—or more to the point, what he was talking about.
“What’s going on over here?” Mackenzie’s mom, Katie, asks as she takes a seat next to her husband on the couch, across from me.
“Just talking. How long until the food’s ready?” Aiden asks, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and fitting her into his side.
“The girls just finished setting up, so dinner shouldn’t be much longer,” she says.
Then her eyes land on me. I see them turn, calculating. She leans in, placing her elbows on top of her thighs.
“So . . . tell me about yourself, Wesley. Are you single?” she asks bluntly, catching me off guard.
I laugh.
“Katie . . .” Aiden sighs while she looks at him with mock innocence.
“What? I’m just curious.”
“You’re never just curiou
s.” He shakes his head at her.
“Well, this time I am just curious,” she states before looking at me again. “So? Are you single, Wesley?”
I answer immediately in the affirmative, and her hands rub together like a villain who’s plotting her next move to take over the world.
“Do you like baseball?” she continues, eyes twinkling.
“Yeah, I like baseball. But I’m more of a football man.”
“Our daughter Mackenzie loves baseball.”
“Does she?” I ask, tucking that tidbit of information away.
“Oh yeah. She has season tickets for the Mets. She never misses a game,” she says. She looks past my shoulder and shouts across the room, “Mac! Come over here, honey!”
Turning my head, I watch a wide-eyed Mackenzie walk our way, looking like she wants the ground to open up and swallow her.
“Mom . . . ?” Mackenzie says once she’s close.
I notice the drink in her hand and wonder if it’s got alcohol in it. Then I move my eyes to her flat stomach. I’ve never once in my thirty-three years not worn a condom, but with her I didn’t even think about it. My only thought was to get inside her as quickly as possible. Now this woman whom I barely know, whom I can’t get off my mind, could be carrying my child. That idea fills me with something I don’t understand . . . all I know is it isn’t a bad something.
“I was just telling Wesley here that you have season tickets to the Mets. Maybe you can take him to a game sometime?” Katie suggests.
Mackenzie’s body jolts at her mother’s statement.
“I . . .” Mackenzie skates her eyes past me, and she quickly shakes her head. “It’s not baseball season, Mom.”
“Oh.” Katie frowns, apparently unhappy with her plan being shot down. “Well, when does it start back up?”
“Not until April.”
“Right. Then you will just have to take him to a game in April.” She smiles at Mackenzie, then tips her head to the side. She looks at me as I roll my shoulder subconsciously. “Are you okay?”
“Old wound. It acts up from time to time,” I say.
Her eyes soften before she looks up at her daughter with pride.
“Mac is a massage therapist. Maybe you can go see her at her office sometime. People say she has magic hands,” Katie says.
Mac coughs and Aiden sighs.
I feel my lips twitch. Of course it’s on the tip of my tongue to say that I know exactly how magical her hands are—from experience—but I hold the comment in.
“I might just do that.” I take another pull from my beer as Mackenzie’s eyes bore a hole into the side of my head.
I tip my head back and watch her swallow as heat flares between us.
“Where’s your office?”
Seeing her lick her bottom lip, I wonder if she’s even going to tell me. I feel myself relax when she gives me the address. Tucking that information away in a box marked with her name in my head, a plan starts to formulate in my mind. There is obviously some serious chemistry between us. I know that from the looks she’s been giving me. She feels it, too, so why the hell is she fighting it?
“That’s great.” Katie stands up, having no idea that she’s just given me another chance with her daughter.
I promise myself then and there that if she runs the next time, I’ll let her go. I know I’m lying to myself.
“Mom . . . ,” Mackenzie says, but Katie ignores her while wrapping an arm through hers.
“Come on, honey. Let’s go finish putting everything out on the table so we can feed these guys.” She leads Mackenzie away, talking quietly.
I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I see Mackenzie’s shoulders tense as her mom leads her to the door—and out of Levi’s apartment. Probably to her sister’s, across the hall.
“My wife is a nut. She means well, but she’s a nut.” Aiden shakes his head. Grinning at his comment, I take another pull from my beer. “I’m going to head on over to Fawn’s place and see if they need any help.” He stands, and I stand along with him.
“I’ll join you.”
Smiling, he pats my shoulder before leading the way across the hall. Most everyone has already gathered around the table when we get there, so I take a seat next to Levi—and directly across from Mackenzie, who is doing her best to avoid looking at me. While I study her, my hand clenches into a fist. I have to work to keep myself from touching her. To keep myself from forcing her to look at me. To make her acknowledge that there is something between us.
“You good, man?” Levi questions.
I pull my eyes from Mackenzie to look at him. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
He nudges my shoulder with his before leaning over to Fawn, who is sitting next to him. He whispers something in her ear that makes her smile. Pulling my eyes from them, I look at Mackenzie and find her eyes already on me. There are a million emotions playing behind her gaze. The moment is broken when her little sister takes a seat next to her and says something that makes her laugh. Seeing her smile, I know I want to see that smile again—only directed at me.
Parking down the block from Mackenzie’s office four days later, I get out and pay the meter before heading toward the building. When I looked up Soothe Your Soul, the name of her practice, I found out that it was actually in an apartment building with a few other small businesses—all located on the first floor.
The rest of Thanksgiving dinner was interesting, to say the least. Levi’s sister-in-law kept bringing up his ex, which in turn pissed everyone off. Fawn, who I could tell was hurt by the conversation, got up in the middle of dinner. She took her sisters with her, and they didn’t come back for a long time. So long that I wondered if they’d come back at all. When they did return, Fawn wasn’t with them, so Levi left in search of her. After he left, I decided that I would head home, too.
I swear I saw disappointment in Mackenzie’s eyes when I told her and her family goodbye, but I knew not to get my hopes up. That doesn’t mean they weren’t. The need to see her again has been clawing at my gut since then.
I press the button next to the nameplate for her office, and the door buzzes. The lock clicks. I pull the door open and look around to see if there is a camera that will announce to her who has arrived. I don’t see one—and that bothers me more than it probably should. The idea of her being alone and just letting anyone inside causes the caveman who’s taken residence in me since meeting her to rear his ugly head.
Until I met her, I had never experienced possessiveness before. I had never understood the need to claim someone, to mark or brand them. Yet that is exactly what I want to do with her.
When I reach her office, I find the door open. She’s sitting at her desk with her hair up in a ponytail, and her face is makeup-free. She has a Chinese-takeout container in front of her, and her eyes are on the computer. She looks beautiful. More beautiful than the night I met her, when she was dressed up and wearing makeup.
“Hey,” I say.
Her head whirls around, and her eyes widen when she hears my voice.
“You . . . you’re here.”
“I was in the neighborhood.” I shrug, knowing she’ll catch on to the fact that I’m using the same lame excuse she did when I found her outside my door attempting to leave me a note. “Do you have any openings?”
For a long moment, she does nothing but stare at me like she can’t believe that I’m standing in front of her.
“Mackenzie?” I take a step toward her, and she blinks.
“You . . .” She wiggles her head, causing her ponytail to move from side to side and to slide along her neck. “You want a massage?”
“Your mom suggested it might help me,” I remind her.
She rolls her eyes as her lips lift into a small smile. “My mom is insane.”
“A little,” I agree. I ask my question again. “Do you have any time available today?”
She nibbles her bottom lip, studying me before answering. “My next client isn’t schedule
d to be here for another hour and a half.”
“I’m sure we can make that work,” I reply, feeling satisfaction when her eyes flash with desire and her nipples pebble under the thin top she has on.
“I . . . um . . .” She looks around. “You just need to fill out this paperwork.” She picks up a clipboard and shoves it my way without looking at me. “I’ll get everything set up, then come back out to get you.”
I don’t get a chance to reply before she takes off. I sit and fill out the paperwork as I was told. She comes back out a few minutes later and takes the clipboard from me. Tucking my hands into the front pockets of my jeans, I watch as she reads over everything quickly.
She sets the clipboard on top of the desk, then shuts and locks the door.
“Do you always lock the door when you have a client?” I ask as she looks up at me.
“Yes. If I’m with a client, the door is always locked. That way no one can just walk in while I’m working,” she states.
I want to ask her about the fact that she buzzed me in without knowing who I was, but I can tell by the shortness in her tone that she wouldn’t appreciate me questioning her right now.
“If you’ll follow me.” She scoots around me, and I follow her down a very short hall and into a dimly lit room where soft music is playing in the background.
The walls are a light blue, almost white. The color goes well with the pictures of the ocean she has hung on the walls. Pulling in a lungful of air, I realize the room smells like her—like lavender and vanilla.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to get undressed and under the covers.” She points at the massage bed in the middle of the room. It’s covered in white sheets. “Just shout when you’re ready for me.”
“Don’t leave on my account.” I smile and toss my jacket on the chair in the corner of the room.
“This is my job.” The words are breathy, giving away the desire she’s feeling.
I use that to my advantage as I strip off my shirt.
“I take my job seriously.”