The Day He Kissed Her (8 page)

Or he’d kill him.

Eventually the sobbing subsided and Mac leaned back, arms still around his sister’s shoulders. “So what are your plans? What are you going to do?”

She sniffled. “I’m staying with Mom for the next little while. She seems happy about it.”

“That’s because she’s lonely as hell. She let Ben Draper take her away from everything and everyone that she knew years ago, and now he’s gone, locked up where he should be, and she’s left with nothing.”

Becca blew out a long breath. “God, I never thought I’d be home again. Not at thirty-three. I just…I had nowhere else to go.” She looked at him. “I’m glad you’re back in Crystal Lake for the summer. Maybe we can—I mean, Liam could maybe spend some time with you. I’ve told him so much about his Uncle Mackenzie. We’re all so proud of everything you’ve accomplished, but he was starting to think you were a ghost.”

His mouth tightened, and he stepped away. No way was he going there.

“I’m not here for a vacation, Becca. I’m here to work. A lot of stuff needs to be done around this place, and I’m working on a project for Jake. I don’t think I’ll have much time for your kid.”

“His name is Liam, and he’s your nephew.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not real good with kids.”

“Or family,” she shot back.

Mac shrugged. “Or family.”

Becca got up from the chair and reached for the door. “You want everyone to think you’re this guy who doesn’t care much or that you’re incapable of getting attached to anyone, but…” She turned the handle. “We both know that’s a load of crap. You’re still the brother who brought home that bird with the broken wing, the one that we tried to heal. You’re still the brother who cried with me when it died and then buried him in the woods with the little cross we made from twigs. I just saw that same compassion inside you, Mackenzie. Just now. You feel as much as anyone else, but you’ve just gotten a lot better at hiding it.”

Becca opened the door. “Liam will help with the fence and anything else that needs to be done around here. It will be good for him, so when are you starting?”

Mac had planned on starting today, but he was no longer in the mood. Hell, he could barely contain the heat and anger inside him. He needed to expel all of it, and he thought a hard run should do it.

“Tomorrow,” he answered. “I’ll be here early though.” He paused. “Tell Mom I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” Becca said softly. “It really is good to see you, Mac. I just wish…”

“Yeah,” he said eventually.

Becca’s lower lip began to tremble again, and with a quick nod, she disappeared inside.

Mac swore all the way back to his truck, and by the time he reached the Booker cottage, he’d worked himself up into a state. He changed into his running shoes and shorts, grabbed his iPod, and headed out for a run.

The direction? Hell, he didn’t know. He just put one foot in front of the other and tried to forget all the shit that seeing Becca brought up.

Yet more than an hour later, he paused at the edge of a clearing, his sides heaving and his head soaked from sweat. He’d removed his T-shirt about halfway through the run, though it was stuck in the back of his shorts. He reached for it and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow as he looked across the clearing at a plain, stone cottage.

Flowers surrounded the pathway, pink, purple, and white petunias. Two large baskets hung from the wide porch, filled with red geraniums. A BMW was parked in the driveway and though the grass needed to be mowed, the place looked quaint. Lived in.

Raine’s place.

Seemed as if his feet had known where they were going after all.

He’d run straight to Boston.

Chapter 8

Lily’s breath hitched in her chest when she spied a half-naked man on the edge of the property. The golden head, damp with sweat, the large expanse of naked skin, and those long, muscular legs were unmistakable.

Mackenzie.

She’d heard he was due back in Crystal Lake the day before. She’d swung by Jake’s office for lunch—he was out—but she’d overheard his office staff gossiping about the fact that Mac Draper, hottest bachelor in Crystal Lake, was coming home and was going to work with Jake on the developing the new site.

And here he was.

Lily had set up her studio in the large back room of the cottage because of the abundance of windows on both the back wall and the side wall that faced the surrounding forest. She took a step back and nearly tripped over her easel as she watched him wipe his forehead and then take a long drink from a water bottle. He paused, looked straight at the house, and she froze, like a deer poised in the wild, glad that she was inside where he couldn’t see her.

She’d thought a lot about Mackenzie Draper over the past month. A lot.

Some nights she’d lain in bed and his whispered words, “I’ll be back, Boston,” had played in her ear over and over again.

Along with the memory of that kiss.

A kiss that was a promise of so much more, but it was that so much more that made Lily nervous. Mac had been right. She wasn’t a relationship kind of girl, and he obviously wasn’t into long-term commitments, and yet here she was wondering…

Wondering about things that she shouldn’t be wondering about. Things that might hurt her if she wasn’t careful. Lily had already been down heartbreak road, and she’d promised herself that she would never travel it again.

But what if… She bit her lip, mouth dry and heart beating fast as Mackenzie shook out his long, wet hair and began to walk toward the house.

God, what if she embarked on something that wasn’t defined by the boundaries of a relationship? Something that would fulfill the need she’d felt ever since New Year’s Eve, a need to connect and to matter on a physical level without the emotional? Was it so wrong to want that? Especially when she’d pretty much come to the conclusion that love and family weren’t in the cards for her?

The night she’d spent with Mackenzie had been a gift. It had shown Lily that she wasn’t some frozen wasteland—that there was still flesh and blood and heat beneath her invisible scars.

Could she do it?

Could she grow a set of balls and do what guys did all the time? Could she enjoy a purely physical relationship? Could she have her cake and eat it too?

Did she dare?

Before she could change her mind, Lily whirled around and rushed toward the front door, pausing for a second to get her shit together before she opened it. Her hand trembled a bit, and she wiped a damp palm against the top of her skirt before stepping out into the hot summer afternoon.

The smell of lilac drifted up her nostrils—the entire right side of the property was filled with purple lilac bushes—and she exhaled slowly as she leaned against the railing and watched Mackenzie.

Acutely aware that she was braless beneath the light pink halter top, Lily bit her bottom lip as her sensitive nipples poked against the fabric. She’d pulled on a simple cotton skirt that morning—one that was on the short side—and her feet were bare. She didn’t have to glance down to know that her toenails were chipped, that the pale pink polish was nearly gone, and that she was in desperate need of a pedicure.

Her hair hung in wild tangles down her back because she’d not bothered to brush it this morning, and her face was free of makeup. For a moment she hesitated, panicked at the thought of what she must look like. But then Mackenzie started walking toward her, and his long legs ate up the distance between them in no time.

He stopped at the bottom of the porch, one foot propped on the steps, head lifted as he gazed at her. Damn, but his eyes were electric, and a hint of white showed as he offered a light smile. With several days’ worth of stubble gracing his chin and his long hair hanging in damp waves against his neck, he looked exactly as a man should—hot, sweaty, muscular, and…

Hot.

For several seconds, there were no words. There was only the sound of blood rushing through her veins, a heartbeat gone crazy, and the swoosh of air in her lungs as she struggled to remain calm and collected.

She was really going to have to work on her physical reaction to him if she was seriously going to consider the plan settling in the back of her mind.

“Looking good, Boston.” His voice was low and seductive, and it instantly had all sorts of warning bells going off inside her. With a toss of her head, she pushed back those warning bells. “I like the natural look on you.”

“You look hot and sweaty.”

“I am,” he said casually, taking a step up. “Hot.” He took another step until his head was level with her chest. A chest that he stared at wickedly. A chest that was once again saluting him.

“And sweaty,” he added, a touch of rasp in his voice.

She swallowed slowly, and her heart picked up again as his eyes moved to her throat.

“If you were a nice lady, you’d invite me in for a drink.”

“I’m not,” she managed to say cheekily. “A nice lady. Besides, I just watched you drain an entire water bottle.” The words popped out before she could stop them, and Lily’s cheeks heated as a slow grin touched his mouth.

“You’re a watcher.” He cocked his head and winked. “Good to know.”

One more step, and his head was level with hers.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, his direct gaze never wavering.

“I’ve been busy.”

“I can see that.” He reached for her, and Lily froze, muscles pulled so tight that they ached.

She held her breath, afraid to breathe when his fingers brushed across her forehead. The touch was light—like a feather—yet it rocked into her, touching parts of her that it had no right to touch.

He glanced down at his fingers, and she followed his gaze, licking her lips at the sight of a dark, black smudge. It was from her heavy sketching pencil and she knew that she must look a mess.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Lead.” Simple. To the point.

“Are you an artist, Lily? Do you like to draw?”

She nodded.

“That’s nice.”

Mac took that last step, and she inched back.

“I’d like to see your work.”

“I don’t show my stuff to just anyone,” she retorted, finding a bit of that fire she so desperately needed.

Mac grinned down at her. “Well now,” he said like it was a secret. “I’m not just anyone, Boston.”

“No?” she replied, hiding the smile she felt inside. “Who exactly are you, Mackenzie Draper?”

He winked. “I’m the guy you’re going to invite inside.”

A shot of heat sat low in Lily’s gut. “Really?”

“And you’re going to feed me because I’m starved.”

“Huh.”

“And maybe find me something cold to drink.” He paused. “I’ll even let you watch…if you want to.”

Lily shook her head, but she couldn’t quite hide the smile tugging at her lips. “What if I’m done watching, and what if I’m not in the mood for company?”

Mac bent forward, and Lily’s eyes fell to his gorgeous mouth. A mouth that was made for kissing and licking, and suckling.

The ache in her gut intensified, spreading lower and settling between her legs.

He was so close that only a whisper separated them.

“Trust me, darlin’. I’ll make it worth your while.”

He was unbelievable. And arrogant. And confident. And hot.

And so damn sexy that if she didn’t move, Lily was afraid she’d melt into a puddle right there in front of him.

Jesus! Get it together.

“One drink,” she said as she turned and opened the door.

Mackenzie followed her into the house, and she waited for him to doff his running shoes, which left him barefoot as well. She wasn’t petite by any means, standing just over five feet six inches, but he had to be at least six three or four, and his frame towered over hers.

She proceeded down the hall and took a left into the kitchen, not realizing he hadn’t followed her until she turned around. Stepping through the dining area, she leaned against the door frame that faced the large family room she’d made into a studio and watched him as he stopped in front of her easel. She had several sketches strewn around the room, but he’d homed in on her current piece.

It was a stark, simplistic winter landscape of Crystal Lake, with bare trees, angry skies, and footprints in the snow that led nowhere.

Palms damp once more, her heart skipped when he looked up and caught her watching.

Her work was so personal. And truthfully, the only person she’d shared this stuff with had been her brother, Blake. Her father had scoffed at her idea of being an artist, and though he’d paid for her education, not once had he expressed interest in her work. Not even Jake had seen the stuff she was working on.

Mackenzie ran his hands through his still-damp hair and leaned down to get a better look at a large sketch leaning against the fireplace. The muscles along his back moved as he bent forward, and she found herself mesmerized by the play of shadows across him.

He was beautiful.

There was no other word to describe him. Everything perfectly balanced and in proportion. She’d love to sketch him.

Suddenly embarrassed and unsure, Lily escaped back into the kitchen. What the hell was she doing? Mackenzie Draper wasn’t a young boy that she could control. He was a grown man with appetites and desires and, contrary to her reputation, a hell of a lot more experience than she had.

Lily had always been a great actor, able to hide behind walls so thick she could be anybody. But she had a feeling that he’d smash through those walls pretty quickly if she wasn’t careful.

“You’ve got a lot of talent.”

She froze when she heard his voice.

“Thanks,” she said softly, cocking her head to the side. “What do you want to drink? I’ve got wine or beer or…tequila.”

Mackenzie moved beside her and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“So you’re a tequila girl.”

A faint smile touched her lips. Tequila reminded her of Jake and Texas.

“You could say that. But I only drink it on certain occasions.”

His eyebrow shot up. “Such as?”

She shrugged and opened the fridge. “Tequila is for forgetting, and it usually involves some backward Honky-Tonk, Texas, and Jake Edwards.”