Rekindled (4 page)

Even with reason to be, he’d never been as awful to her as her ex-husband had been.

But it was fine with her if he wanted to think that was all her discomfort was about.
Way less awkward than “I’m fixated on how your butt looks in those jeans.”

Mac stopped in front of her, close enough that she could smell his aftershave. Nothing
like the kind of cologne her husband and his associates had worn. None of that pretentious
musk that was probably supposed to mimic male hormones or something.

Mac clearly didn’t need to manufacture testosterone. He exuded it, and she responded.
He smelled like leather and spice. And just Mac, which was sexier than any of the
other things.

He paused, his eyes dropping to her lips, and her stomach went on a free fall down
to her toes.

He leaned in, and she almost choked on her breath. He extended his hand, his thumb
brushing the corner of her mouth and sliding beneath her lower lip.

“You had a little apple,” he said, drawing his hand back and dropping it back down
to his side.

“Oh,” she said, feeling a rush of stupid, inexplicable disappointment. “Thanks.”

“You sure you don’t want to wait to do the dishes?”

“No,” she said. “No, I’m fine.”

He nodded. “Great. I’m tired, I’m going to head upstairs. Pancakes for breakfast?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Great. See you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice hollow in her ears. “See you in the morning.”

She watched him walk away and heard his footfalls on the stairs. When she was sure
he was gone, she turned around and pressed her overheated forehead to the cool granite
countertop.

“Stupid, Lucy,” she muttered. “Really stupid.”

Because for a second there, she’d really thought Mac might kiss her. And for a second,
she’d really wanted him to.

She straightened, pushed the start button on the dishwasher, then picked up her plate
of tepid pot roast. She would eat it back in her little house. If that wouldn’t remind
her of her place in life, of what she really didn’t need to crave, of the fact that
Mac was essentially her boss, nothing would.

And all of that should remind her that she didn’t want Mac Denton to kiss her.

Lucy made the pancakes and vacated as quickly as possible, using another trip to the
grocery store as an excuse.

She really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Mac and his effect on her hormones again.
Not so soon. Not after she’d very nearly terminally embarrassed herself the night
before. What if she’d leaned in? Oh, it didn’t even bear thinking about.

She could picture herself letting her eyes flutter closed, parting her lips so she
looked a little like a goldfish sucking water and then tilting her head and…
ugh!

She could also nicely picture Mac’s eyes going wide with horror as he backed away
as quickly as possible.

Mentally calling herself a myriad of foul names, Lucy put the car in park and got
out, heading into the grocery store for the second time in a week. She’d spent more
time in the grocery store recently than she had in her entire life before coming to
work for Mac. She minded it less than she’d thought she might.

Before walking in, she spotted Sarah Larsen walking down the sidewalk, a reusable
shopping bag slung over her arm. Sarah still looked very much like she had in high
school: hair parted down the middle with barrettes keeping the front off of her face,
a sweater with buttons done all the way up to her throat and a skirt that went at
least to mid-calf.

“Sarah!” Lucy called out to her and started to walk in her direction. Sarah stopped
and held her bag up against her chest. Sarah always had a way of looking like a frightened
rabbit. Or maybe that look was reserved for Lucy. She couldn’t really remember, but
she imagined that she hadn’t been all that wonderful to Sarah back in high school.

“Hi, Lucy,” Sarah said. “Did you… did you have any luck with the pie?”

“Not the crust. I followed the recipe but it was really chewy. I was wondering if
you had any tips for that?”

Sarah blinked wide brown eyes. “Uh… yeah. You need to make sure you use cold
water. Refrigerate it if you need to. And don’t touch it too much. It’s not like making
bread. You need it sort of barely pressed together.”

Lucy grimaced. “Oh, geez. I kneaded it. A lot. I really was thinking bread.”

“That’s your problem then.”

“I’m sort of relieved to hear it. That’s at least an identifiable problem.” Lucy blew
out a breath. “What other desserts do you like to make? Is there anything easy? I’m
feeling in over my head here.”

“You basically can’t mess up a simple chocolate cake. Especially if you just do it
in a square pan and don’t bother with layers.”

“Great! What do you I need for that?” Sarah’s expression was getting increasingly
confused. “Sorry. You’re probably busy.”

Sarah shook her head. “Not really. I was just going in to pick up a few things for
my dinner tonight.”

“Am I bothering you?”

“No. Why?”

“You look… scared.”

“I’m surprised you’re talking to me. Not just because you’re Lucy Ryan, but because
not very many people just make conversation with me.”

“Oh, well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to make some conversation with you while we
shop,” Lucy said. She was suddenly very conscious of the fact that Mac was the only
person she had to talk to. And most especially with how she felt at the moment, that
just wouldn’t do. “I’m sort of new in town, Sarah.”

“You grew up here,” Sarah said.

“A version of me did. But now I’m different. And the new me is new here. I need a
friend.”

Sarah smiled—sort of timidly, like most of her other actions, but it was genuine.
“I can always use another friend.”

***

Lucy had premade his lunch. Clever girl. She was avoiding him very smoothly today,
and he was pretty sure he knew why. That little moment of tension between them in
the kitchen had sizzled. There had been no way she hadn’t felt it.

And he, idiot that he was, rather than just telling her she’d had apple pie filling
on her face, had wiped it away with his thumb. As an excuse to touch her. To find
out if she was as warm and soft as he thought she might be.

She was, dammit. And he’d had to fight the urge not to lick the apple off of his finger
just to see if he could get a hint of her flavor beneath it.

And then he’d really had to fight the urge to lean in and kiss her. She was vulnerable.
She was working for him. Her ex-husband was an asshole. And he wasn’t going to follow
suit and take advantage of her when he had a weird amount of control in her life.

The fact was, Lucy needed the job he paid her for. Very few other people would hire
an unskilled housekeeper and give her room and board. He was doing it, though. And
it wasn’t really out of pity, because that made it sound like Lucy was incompetent,
and she wasn’t. For someone who’d never cooked before, she was actually pretty good.
And the thing was, he was certain that whatever Lucy tried to do, she could get good
at.

But she didn’t know that. He could see it. And it ate at him. It was all her ex-husband’s
fault. That guy deserved a sharp uppercut to the jaw.

And then some.

Mac sighed and pulled his cap off when he walked into the house. His kitchen smelled
good, which meant Lucy was already working on dinner. On what would be a successful
dinner, if the smell was anything to go by.

He followed the smell and paused in the doorway of the kitchen. Lucy was bending down
in front of the oven, pulling something out. He couldn’t help but stand there and
watch for a second. All of Lucy’s clothes were too nice for her to do this sort of
work in. It made her seem like his personal June Cleaver. Vacuuming in pearls and
heels. Pulling a cake out of the oven in a pencil skirt that hugged her perfect, rounded
butt.

His mouth dried. She was so sexy. She had always been beautiful, but the years had
only improved her. She was a woman now, and it very much appealed to the man in him.
That her husband had dared to say she looked old or heavy gave him fantasies of a
different kind. Violent fantasies.

Any real man would recognize that Lucy had the kind of curves some women paid to get.
And that age had only refined the beauty in her face, given more definition to her
features. High, exquisite cheekbones that made her look even more sophisticated.

But right now all that mattered was her ass, since it was directly in his line of
sight and he was enjoying it so damn much.

“What exactly is that?” he asked.

Lucy shrieked and straightened, setting a cake on the counter and tugging off her
oven mitts. “Don’t sneak up on me like that when I’m pulling hot things out of the
oven! Better yet, don’t sneak up on me like that ever.”

“Sorry, not my intention. What kind of cake?”

“Chocolate,” she said. “And I’m going to make chocolate frosting next.”

“And you know how?”

“Sarah Larsen told me. And she assured me that I couldn’t screw it up.”

“Sarah Larsen? The Sarah Larsen from school who now teaches kindergarten?”

“Yes, that one.”

“I didn’t know you knew her.”

“I didn’t. Not really. Not before. But I saw her in the grocery store yesterday, and
again today, and we hit it off.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Really. When she stopped being afraid of me.”

He laughed and walked to the opposite side of the counter to Lucy, resting his forearms
on it and leaning in. “Well, you were a bit scary in high school.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m not really proud of that. But who loves who they were in
high school?”

“Not me. I was a douche.”

Lucy laughed, light and happy. It made something in his chest expand. “Were you? I
didn’t know, I didn’t hang out with you.”

“Oh, you know, nothing major. Mainly that I was sure I was God’s gift to women. I
couldn’t afford to buy them anything, but I made up for it in… other ways. Lucas
and I weren’t good for each other that way.”

“I never heard any stories about you going around the school.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have. We didn’t seduce high school girls.”

“You seduced who, then?”

“Women we met in bars.”

“Bars?”

He shrugged. “We had fake IDs.”

“Fake IDs? Shameless, Mac Denton. That’s what you are.”

He arched a brow. “And lawless, remember?”

“Clearly.”

She was smiling. Really smiling. And it meant more to him than it should.

She stuck a toothpick in the top of the cake and her smile widened when it came out
clean. “I wasn’t seducing anyone in high school. That was not where my head was at.”

“You were seducing guys without even realizing it.”

“I doubt it.”

“Don’t. You had my attention.” It was the truth, one that had stung at the time. The
fact was that the reason Lucy had gotten to him so much was because he’d had a bit
of a crush on her. That he’d thought she was the most beautiful girl in the school.

Even knowing he never had a chance with her. It actually made her even hotter.

Until she’d given him a major set down just for speaking to her in the hallowed halls
of her high school kingdom. That had been a reality check.

“I did?”

“Are you kidding? You were a hottie back then.”

“Back then, huh?”

“Not excluding now, but back then… that was what we called you.”

“I bet that’s not all you called me.”

He grimaced. “No, there were other names.”

“I deserved them.”

“No, you didn’t. We were all just stupid kids, and none of us really understood what
any of us were going through. So we were mean.”

“You weren’t mean. The one time you were mean to me I deserved it. Totally.”

“You did.”

“Ha! I thought you might argue a little bit.”

“No. Not about that.”

“Maybe if I had seduced a few guys in high school Daniel wouldn’t have seemed so incredible.”

“Do you think?”

“First boyfriend. First… you know. I had first-love syndrome with him.”

“First love or fifth love, honey, it doesn’t matter. It still ties you in knots and
turns your world upside down. Still makes you think the risk is worth it. That you
should give up everything to have that other person.”

“You’ve been in love like that?”

“Nope. But I’ve watched my parents. My dad falls in love often, with everything in
a skirt. My mom only loves him. She sacrifices her happiness, her dignity, her self-respect
for that love. And my dad lets her because of his… many loves. They would all
call it love. I call it bull. And it doesn’t matter how many years pass, or how many
people you find it with. People are still jackasses for love.”

“But not you?”

“Nope. Not me.”

“So what do you do instead?”

“Excuse me?”

Lucy looked down and traced a curved line over the counter with the tip of her finger.
“What do you do instead of falling in love? Instead of having real relationships?”

Mac looked at her, at her face, so flawless and lovely, and tried to ignore the sudden
tightening in his gut. The rush of desire in his veins.

He was tempted to show her what he did instead. Thankfully, the counter was between
them, so hauling her into his arms wouldn’t exactly be a simple matter. But he wanted
to do it anyway.

He should walk away. He should not say what he was thinking. But he did.

“I have sex,” he said, the words coming out raw and harsh. Just the way the kiss he
was fantasizing about would be. “Sweaty, hot, unattached sex.”

Lucy blinked, her dark eyes owlish. “Oh.”

He shrugged. “I’m a man. I’m not exactly going to live a celibate existence just because
I don’t want a relationship.”

She frowned. “What does you being a man have to do with anything?”

“Men have needs.”

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Women do too.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Like hell it’s not. How long is the longest you’ve ever been celibate since your
first time?”

The question caught him off guard. And made him feel a little dirty. “Maybe four months.”
Maybe.

“I’m running on ten. Ten. And before that it was months, if not years, of boring,
lights-off, missionary-position sex between two married people who resented each other
a whole lot more than they wanted each other. So I think I can tell you that women
most definitely have needs. I can tell you because mine haven’t been met in a real
way in far too long and it… it sucks, quite frankly.”

“So… what does that mean? You think you want to just have… sex? Meet needs?”

She bit her lip and started pacing around the counter, her focus on the air in front
of her. “Yeah, I think some of that sweaty, hot sex wouldn’t be so bad. No. It really
wouldn’t.”

She stopped in front of him, her eyes trained on his chest. She was breathing hard
now, her face flushed. The sight was making his heart beat faster, was making him
feel sweaty and a tiny bit nervous, and he really couldn’t figure out why.

He couldn’t remember a woman ever making him nervous in his life.

Then she put her palm flat on his chest and flexed delicate fingers, the fabric of
his shirt sliding over his skin, sending a spark of heat through him.

“Yeah, a little hot sex might be just what I need.” She went up on her tiptoes and
pressed her lips to his cheek. His knees nearly buckled.

Then she angled her head and her soft, perfect mouth met his. Instinct took over everything
else. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him, her full
breasts flush against his chest. Then he tilted his head and deepened the kiss, teasing
the seam of her lips with his tongue. She opened to him and he took a long taste.
One that seemed to meet with her approval.

She moaned, the sound vibrating through her petite frame as she arched into him, demanding
more. Demanding hot, sweaty sex. And he really, really wanted to deliver.

But it was a bad idea. He couldn’t exactly remember why it was a bad idea right now.
Not when she was arching into him and all but purring, stroking her tongue against
his. Harder still with the throaty little sounds she made every time he moved his
hands over her back.