The Day He Kissed Her (20 page)

She saw Cain and his son, Michael. She saw a man she didn’t recognize with another boy about the same age as Michael—the man glanced away when she met his eyes, but the kid didn’t.

Cheeky little dude.

She saw Mac’s nephew, Liam.

Mac’s nephew, who was standing off to the side, holding up what looked like the wet remnants of her dress. Mac’s clothes were in a wet pile in front of them. The kid shot them both a look and then nudged Michael. Both boys immediately started snorting and giggling, and the one she didn’t know pointed at Lily and then whispered something in Liam’s ear, causing another round of elbow nudging and giggles.

What the hell?

Jake chose that moment to join them, and if Lily didn’t think things could get worse, she was wrong. Boy was she wrong.

Jake nodded hello and walked over to them, his eyes darting over her head to Mac before he reached forward to tug up the neckline of the T-shirt. It was big on Lily and had slipped down, exposing her shoulder.

She glanced up, eyebrows raised in question, but Jake was glaring at Mackenzie. “Seriously? Hickeys? What are you, fifteen?”

Hickeys?

Oh God. An image of Mac at her neck, his mouth gliding, kissing…suckling filled her mind, and she peeked around Jake. The boys were still giggling.

Mac’s hand was warm on her shoulder. “Shove it, Edwards. I couldn’t help myself. She tastes too damn good.”

A new round of giggling filled the boathouse, but by this time, Lily had had enough. If this is what sleeping over at a guy’s place meant, then she was all for leaving in the middle of the night.

“Take me home, Jake.”

“Come on, Lily, hold on. I’ll take you home. Just let me get Liam set up so he can head out fishing with Cain and the boys.”

“You’re not going?” she asked, eyes on Liam, who was no longer paying attention to her wet dress. In fact, he’d tossed it and was staring at his uncle, expression unreadable. There was something kinda sad about the kid.

“I can catch up with them later.”

“No.” She stepped away from Mac. “I just need your keys so I can grab my things from your truck.”

“I have no idea where the extra key is and, well…” He pointed toward their wet clothes. “The other set isn’t were I left them.” He tried not to grin, but it was there…hovering around the corners of his mouth. The bastard was enjoying the whole thing.

“Fine,” she snapped. “You can get my stuff back to me when you find your keys.” She nodded to Jake. “Let’s go.”

“Lily, don’t be pissed,” Mac said.

“I’m not, Mackenzie. Don’t worry about it.”

Except she was, and she had no idea why. Shit happened, she got that, but something about the events of the morning had her all mixed up.

“Nice to see you again, Lily,” Cain said with a grin.

“You too,” she said, nodding at the other man before marching her butt out of the boathouse, clutching Mac’s boxers so tightly around her waist that her fingers began to cramp. Talk about a walk of shame. Hell, she gave the saying a whole new meaning.

She climbed into Jake’s truck, and when he got behind the wheel and turned to her, she cut him off before he could speak. “Not a word.”

It was the quietest ride home she’d ever had.

Chapter 20

Mac knew when a woman was pissed, mostly because, at some point, every woman he’d ever been involved with got pissed at him. It was pretty much par for the course. By the time they reached
that
point in their “relationship,” he was okay with it. Hell, he even welcomed it. Encouraged it.

Except that usually Mac knew the why of it. The reason for the attitude. The reason a woman would go home with a guy’s best friend instead of waiting for Mac to take her. There were the usual suspects.

He got hung up at the office and forgot to call.

He scheduled a meeting when he was supposed to hook up with them.

He spent too much time chatting up the hostess.

He refused a drawer in his bathroom after six months of dating.

Or the one that was always good for a scene—he was spotted out at dinner with someone else. Mackenzie got that kind of stuff—he understood it, and more importantly, he could deal with it.

But Sunday morning Lily had been more than pissed, and at first he’d been a little confused. None of that usual shit had happened. There had been no discussion about exclusive drawers or missed dates, and he sure as hell hadn’t been with anyone else.

In fact, Mac had been knocked on his ass when she’d walked into the boathouse. God, to see her curves draped in his clothes, her hands clutching his boxers—it had been all he could do not to throw her over the boat and get busy. With all that wild hair, long, sexy legs, mouth still swollen from his—he could barely keep his hands off her.

So yeah, he’d been preoccupied and maybe he’d missed a few signals, but damn if he knew what they were.

Later in the afternoon, Cain had suggested he might have let Lily know that there were a bunch of guys ogling her considering she was half-naked and all.

And maybe he might have covered up the hickeys on her shoulder.

Except that Mac kind of liked the sight of them on her skin. They were his marks.
On
her
skin.
Marks he’d put there while he’d been inside her. And maybe that was some kind of primal animal thing, but what the hell…he was a guy. He was a hot-blooded American man who damn well liked to see that his woman had been thoroughly looked after.

And sure, he agreed that he should have taken the time to get rid of their wet clothes on the dock because by Sunday night, half the town knew that he and Lily St. Clare had done some serious skinny-dipping. By Monday morning, the other half knew.

He stopped in for his coffee at The Donut Place on his way to the site and ran into a bunch of guys who’d been at the gala. Every single one of them had some sort of comment about Lily. Again. He got it. Men were basically one rung up from the primates, and when a gorgeous woman was around, they quickly reverted back to their inner caveman. Christ, he’d been dragging his knuckles after her all night.

But still.

After the third comment about how hot she was, he wasn’t so agreeable. Jesus, it wasn’t as if she was a piece of meat they were talking about. It was Boston. His Boston.

Mac stopped smiling about the time Jerry Field spoke up, and it was a good thing that his coffee order took less than a minute because he was ready to knock his goddamn teeth in.

The bastard had actually asked Mac if he could take Lily out to dinner, insinuated that Mac wasn’t serious about her—or anyone for that matter—and Jerry would treat her right. Mac had taken a moment and something in his eyes must have warned Jerry to back off, because the insurance salesman took two steps back and shrugged.

“Just thought I’d ask,” he’d said in his defense. “You can’t blame a guy for trying. Hell, every single guy in Crystal Lake would like to have a shot at her.”

“She’s with me,” Mac replied.

Except that he wasn’t so sure. He’d called her Sunday after coming back in from fishing with the boys, but she hadn’t picked up. At first, he’d just shrugged it off. It’s not like he’d planned on spending the entire day fishing, but Cain had showed up in the boat and Liam had finally cracked a smile. Mac couldn’t say no to the kid even though the only thing he wanted to do was head back to the cottage and climb into bed with Lily.

He tried to call her again around ten in the evening and then had given up after he went straight to voice mail—for the fifth time. Jesus, that was getting damn close to stalker territory—at least for Mackenzie.

Now it was Monday morning, and he was in a shit mood. It felt like he hadn’t slept at all, he was already ten minutes late for work, and he had Liam along for the ride. Mac had no idea what he was going to do with the kid, but what the hell was he supposed to do? Leave him at the lake all day?

He’d brought up Bible camp, but one look into Liam’s eyes, and he knew he couldn’t do it.

Mac took a sip of coffee and maneuvered out of the parking lot, face grim as he thought of his sister. He hadn’t heard anything from her other than a text message the night before that told him she’d arrived back home and that she was okay. He knew she had called her son because he’d heard Liam talking to her, but there’d been nothing more this morning.

His mother had called to tell him she was dropping off a casserole because she wouldn’t be home for dinner either. She’d gone on and on about how wonderful it was that he’d taken Liam for the week. She talked about male bonding and how good it was going to be for Liam to spend some time with his uncle.

Not once did she mention the kid’s father or the fact that her idiot daughter had run back to the man who’d hurt her. Not once.

His mother had always been good for that. She thought that if she didn’t talk about something, it never happened. He supposed that was her way of dealing with stuff, but it was the coward’s way out, and it was something Mac would never be able to understand.

He glanced at Liam. The boy’s cheeks were sunburnt and so were his arms and legs. A full day on the lake would do that to a kid when the uncle was too clueless to make sure sunscreen was applied.

“Do we need to stop and get some cream or something?” he asked, turning onto Main Street. There was a pharmacy near the grocery store, and he could hit it if need be.

“Cream?” Liam turned to him.

“For your sunburn. I didn’t realize it was so bad.”

“I’m good.”

“Well, does it hurt?”

Liam shrugged. “It’s okay.”

Mac gritted his teeth as a wave of anger washed over him. For Christ’s sake. If he had to hear Liam say everything was “okay” one more time, he was going to lose his shit. It wasn’t okay. None of this was fucking okay.

Mackenzie pulled into the pharmacy and told Liam he’d be back in a minute. He walked inside and instead of wasting time looking for God knows what, he headed for the main counter up front. Mrs. Borstrano was just applying her lipstick when he stopped at her register. The woman had manned number one for as long as Mac could remember, and surely she would know what he needed to buy for a bad sunburn.

“Good morning, Mrs. B.”

Her pale face broke open into a wide grin, as she gazed up at him. She was a petite little thing, with soft brown eyes, an easy smile, and long, dark hair most women half her age would kill for. It fell down her back just the way he remembered. Heck, back in the day, every single boy in Crystal Lake had a crush on Mrs. B.

“My goodness. Mackenzie Draper. Son, you are just what every woman should see first thing in the morning.”

He winked. She’d always been a flirt. “Damn, Mrs. B., I only have time to visit one woman this morning, and it happens to be you.”

“Well, it sure is nice to see that pretty face of yours, Mackenzie.” She leaned forward. “Though I hear you’ve been stepping out with Lily St. Clare.”

Mac smiled. “She’s a friend.”

Mrs. Borstrano’s eyes softened a bit. “She’s a real nice girl, Mackenzie. You best treat her nice, you hear?”

Mac didn’t quite know what to say to that so he got right to the point. “I need some cream for a bad sunburn.”

Mrs. Borstrano gave him the once-over. “Is this for you?”

He shook his head. “Nope. It’s for my nephew, Liam.”

“Ah,” she replied. “Follow me.”

Mrs. B. led him all the way to the back of the store, and he waited patiently while she picked out a tube of cream. She shoved it into his hands, a frown on her face. “Liam, isn’t that Becca’s little boy?”

“Yep.”

They were back at the cash register now. “I heard she’s in town staying with your mother for the summer.”

Mac handed over a twenty-dollar bill. “She is.”

“Huh.” Mrs. B. pursed her lips as she gazed up at him.

Shit, here we go.

“Just her and the boy?”

He nodded.

“I also heard she’s banged up a bit. Was she in an accident or something?”

An accidental fall into her husband’s fist.

Any lightness he felt disappeared, though he was able to keep his cool. “She’s doing alright.”

Mrs. B. held his gaze for a bit and then sighed. “She’s a good girl with a good head on her shoulders. She’ll figure it out.”

“Let’s hope so,” Mac replied as he grabbed his bag. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem, Mackenzie. It’s so nice to have you back in town.”

Mac ran into Pastor Lancaster as he headed out to his truck, but he didn’t afford him anything more than a wave. At this rate, he was never going to make it to work. He checked his cell, but there were no messages, and with a grimace, he shoved it back into his jeans before hopping into the truck.

“Here’s something for your burn. It should help.”

Liam took the tube and muttered, “Thanks,” which was good enough for now.

It took a bit of time to make it out of the downtown core—the place was already hopping with cottage folk—and as Mac gazed around, he realized just how much had changed. There were new light standards lining the sidewalks, large pots full of colorful flowers every ten feet or so. Facades on the storefronts had been changed so that everything looked new but also kind of old-school, which was part of the charm. It was a little like stepping back in time, except everything had a fresh twist to it.

It was a total revitalization, and he grudgingly thought that Hubber must be doing a decent job along with the local business association. And considering the state of Detroit and some of the communities closer to the city, it was a heck of an accomplishment.

On a whim, Mac hung a left at the last traffic light and headed back the way he’d come, taking the next right and following the treelined street until he came to a bridge.

Everything looked exactly as he remembered. Hell, even old man Lawrence’s Bait and Tackle looked the same—on the verge of being condemned. Mackenzie crossed the bridge and pulled over just before the bait and tackle. The oak trees on either side of the street were still massive, their branches nearly meeting each other overhead in a canopy of green that shaded the entire street.