A Second Chance (The Publicist, Book Four) (5 page)

Chapter 14

Mac found the pasta, some fresh tomatoes and enough herbs to pull together his mother’s recipe for marinara sauce. When Sydney walked back into the kitchen after putting on something less dinner-formal, he had his shirt sleeves rolled up and was making meatballs. Sydney just watched him for a moment. His posture projected confidence, yet there seemed to be a crack in his veneer, like he’d been broken and had done his best to glue himself back together. His eyes held a glint of something like, heartbreak and sadness that floated just below the surface. Still, he was desperately handsome, even more so than when they’d dated.

“Something smells good,” she said finally.

Mac turned to her and smiled, “You know, I was remembering something just now.” He gave the pasta sauce a quick stir, set the spoon down and leaned against the counter. “Do you remember bad-boy Tommy, who never showed up to anything without his leather jacket?”

Sydney let out a laugh, Tommy was the coolest of the cool kids, not at all smart, but that didn’t seem to deter the girls who threw themselves at him, “I remember he was no Einstein, he kept cheating on his tests, but boy, he sure had the dates, didn’t he? I never understood the bad boy allure.”

“You fell for me.” Crossing his arms as he held her eyes.

“You weren’t a bad boy.”

“Depending on who you ask, I sort of am now.”

“Did you go to the high school reunion?” She said, shifting the subject. Yes, she supposed he was a bad boy, and the allure of that was both confusing and appealing to her.

“I did,” he said. “You weren’t there, were you? I mean I know we weren’t in the same class but a lot of students from prior years were there.”

Sydney shook her head, “I wasn’t. I was actually in the Middle East somewhere blowing something up.”

Mac nodded in mock agreement, “Of course, sure, that makes total sense. If you’re going to blow off your reunion, it should be because you’re out saving the world.”

“I’ll pour us some more wine and then light a fire; I think it’s going to get chilly tonight.”

Chapter 15

After dinner, they sat on the couch in the living room while the fire roared. Sydney curled her long legs under her and sipped her wine. Mac noticed the turtleneck she wore and how it clung to her. Although she was beautiful in high school, she never looked like this. The woman who sat before him was still tall, but she had filled out in the most amazing ways and her hair, which she used to keep in a tight ponytail, hung around her face in soft, shimmering gold waves. Mac tried not to stare at her too much, but it was hard, he was impossibly drawn to her and it was all he could do not to reach out and touch her, or slip his fingers through her hair, or…

“What happened with you and Carolyn?” she asked softly, pulling him from his thoughts.

Mac looked at his glass, took a sip and said: “We were great until Isabella died right after she was born, and then we drifted apart.” Mac looked up and Sydney could see the pain flicker across his face.

“I should have done more, forced her to talk to me, but I let her retreat into her world, thinking she needed time. Then months turned into years and then…”

“I’ve seen a lot, Mac, a lot of heartbreak, a lot of everything that no human being should ever have to see. One thing I have learned is that we all do the best we can, you didn’t set out to intentionally hurt Carolyn.” Sydney reached a hand out and touched his thigh; she left it there for a split second and then pulled away. Her eyes never left his.

“I ran around, for years, pretending that I didn’t need to be accountable for what I did, and then I met Kate and I thought, this is it, my chance to get it right.” Mac’s words trailed off and he looked at the fire, remembering the night it all fell apart. The heartache of it still radiated off of him.

“Do you still love her?” For some reason the question bothered her more than she realized, she had a feeling the answer might bother her even more.

“No.” Mac said firmly, “I mean, I love her in a way that’s not, well, not what it was. We were such a good team, I miss that and I did a horrible thing to her. That’s how I rewarded her for trusting me.” Then he turned to Syd and said, “I’m sorry, Syd, I realize I am not at all the man you fell in love with.”

Sydney smiled and took his hand and his strong fingers circled around hers, “You are exactly the man I fell in love with.”
Had she said that out loud?
Where the hell had that come from?
She felt a little breathless. She could almost feel all of her CIA training fly out the window.

“I am not that man anymore, Syd.” Mac’s words were soft, almost a whisper.

The silence between them felt loaded with a mounting sexual tension. She was getting lost in Mac’s eyes, those warm, comforting eyes that had once been the world to her. Her sacred place, her safe place. Her body tingled with desire for him, to make love to him again, as she had so many years ago.

She needed air, or needed to get away. What the hell was wrong with her? A top CIA agent sitting here, turning into a mindless schoolgirl who just wanted to rip off this guy’s shirt. Glad all of her training was paying off.

Sydney tried to pull her hand away, but Mac held on, his eyes still on her.

“I should go to bed,” her voice was surprisingly steady.
Good girl,
she thought.

“Stay,” he said, in almost a whisper. “Tell me about your work, but not the version you told me for the book. I want to know what it was like for you, what you thought that first day when the CIA recruited you.”

Sydney smiled and said: “I have never been so terrified in my life.” She pulled her hand away and began telling her story of how a shy, afraid-of-her-own-shadow, young girl got plucked out of college to join one of the largest agencies in the world.

Chapter 16

They went to sleep after midnight, but even as Sydney lay in her bed, she couldn’t will herself to fall asleep.

Mac.

The name drifted and danced through her head. She thought of him, right down the hall. The man she’d once loved so desperately was back in her life. It was odd to think that everything between them had occurred over a quarter of a century ago and still, in many ways, it felt like it had just happened yesterday. Sydney could still recall the way Mac protected her, defending her against bullies who took advantage of her quiet nature to pick on her. Often getting into fist-fights that would land him in the principal’s office. Then came the day of their first kiss. They were on a field trip to Manhattan, and they’d gotten separated from the group. They walked through the city, just the two of them and then he kissed her. It was sweet and unexpected and it was at that moment Sydney was certain she’d love him for the rest of her life.

Sydney pulled the covers tighter around her and gazed at the ceiling. The memories were just the musings of a young girl, she knew, but still they sparked something in her. Something Sydney hadn’t felt in a long time. It was the hope she’d had as a young girl, hope for a life and a marriage and children. When it seemed Mac had moved on, she shoved it all aside until the day she met Joe. After he was killed, she’d resigned herself to living her life as she did, doting on her nieces and nephews and living for her job, which was a crucial part of who she was. When Mac walked back into her life, his presence went far beyond just being her childhood love. It reminded her that in a way, she was living a half-life.

Sydney thought back to the letters Mac had sent, unopened and all of them neatly boxed. Where were they now? The attic, she suddenly remembered. When her parents moved to California they’d divided up the school mementos among their three daughters. Sydney had taken all of the boxes and put them in the attic upstairs.

The letters were in one of them.

She fought the nudge of curiosity to go upstairs and read them, but what purpose would it serve, except to wallow in what might have been?

No, much better to leave them there. It was like digging up a grave. While it was great to see Mac again, everything between them was long since dead and buried.

Chapter 17

The following morning, Mac woke after a restless night. He’d dreamt about Sydney, or rather dreamt about the time they’d gone camping together as teenagers. It was just an overnight trip, but it was the moment he’d realized he loved her, although she was too young, afraid, and needed to find herself a bit more, so he waited nearly three years to tell her.

Mac threw the covers off and got up. After throwing on a t-shirt and shorts, he opened the door to his room. The house was quiet. Maybe Sydney was still asleep. He doubted that. Even as a teenager she was an early riser. He walked through the hallway and into the kitchen. That’s when he spotted a note:

Went on a run,

be back by 8:30.

S

Mac looked at the clock, it was barely seven a.m. so he decided to get some work done on her book, but first he set on some coffee.

After grabbing his laptop from the study and pouring a cup of coffee, he settled in the kitchen to get some work done. He was completely immersed in the book when Syd walked in, wearing a t-shirt and running shorts. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she glistened from perspiration.

“Hi.” She smiled, “I see you’re already at work.”

Mac could only stare at her for a moment; she was breathtaking even without makeup (although, she wore very little anyway). She looked so innocent. He could see why she made such a good agent. No one on earth would suspect who she really was and what she was capable of. Mac was already halfway through the book and had reached the part where Sydney talked about the first time she killed someone. He had struggled with that particular chapter, not that he hadn’t expected it, but it was difficult to imagine his Sydney, the little lost girl, had turned into some brilliantly capable woman who could also kill someone if she had to. Sometimes with her bare hands.

“Mac?” Sydney said again, tilting her head, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, of course.” He nodded and looked away.

She narrowed her eyes and said:

“Are you struggling with the fact that I’ve killed people?”

Her ability to read him was slightly unnerving, “Yes, well, I mean I expected it. I just, you know, know you and it’s hard to imagine.”

Sydney poured herself a cup of coffee, “Try not to think about it, it’s the job, that’s all.”

Mac frowned, “I get it, but it’s still, I mean, weren’t you ever terrified that one of these maniacs would kill you instead?”

Sydney poured some milk in her coffee, turned and said: “Every day I’m on a mission I think that it could be my last day.”

“Then why do you keep doing it? I mean, you saved the world, isn’t that enough for one lifetime?”

Sydney shrugged and leaned against the counter. Mac tried to ignore the outline of her nipples that pressed through the t-shirt, “The agency wants me out of the field and I totally respect that, but the thing is, this is my life. If I’m not in the field, I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s who I am.”

Mac closed the lid on his laptop, stood up and walked over to her, “It’s admirable, but isn’t it a bit like hiding? I mean, you’re gorgeous, Sydney. You’re smart, funny, don’t you want to share your life with someone who will spend every single day loving you in a way you deserved to be loved?” He stood in front of her, inches from her face. She could see the slight stubble on his chin and his disheveled hair. She looked at his lips and for a moment she stood, just staring at him, towering over her, all strength and heat. Her body felt electrified, he moved a little closer to her as his light blue eyes held hers and she could feel the desire radiate off of him. Her heart wobbled dangerously as it sped up and her breathing turned shallow. She needed to break the spell before he kissed her. Shifting her gaze outside she said, “Let’s go riding today.”

Mac blinked, unmoving, “You’re ignoring my question.” His voice was deep and the sound of it made her want to undress.

She could feel her determination to keep this whole thing professional dissolve like snow in June.

Well there goes all your CIA training, she thought.

Sydney collected herself, barely, and stepped away, which broke the spell.

“I’m not,” she insisted, stepping into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator, “I just don’t want to talk about it right now. How about if I make us breakfast. Omelets?”

Mac knew when to back off, some things never changed. But he was determined to revisit this with her, sooner rather than later. He also couldn’t ignore the spark that threatened to overwhelm him.

Chapter 18

“How long has it been since you’ve ridden a horse?” Sydney smiled as she slid an omelet onto his plate.

Mac had showered and changed into jeans and a t-shirt, “A long time. I think, maybe the last time we rode…no wait, Danny and I went out when he was sixteen, so seven odd years ago.”

“You’ve never told me about your sons.” She smiled and sat down across from him.

“They’re amazing kids, well, men now. I’d love for you to meet them someday.” It was more of a statement than a question and it hung between them, the expectation lingering. The memory of the life she was supposed to have was surprisingly haunting.

“I’m sorry. I-” Mac said instantly. It was too easy to pretend that they were just normal, that no time had gone by.

Sydney held a hand up, “It’s okay. You have a big life and I’d love to meet them someday if there is an opportunity. You’ll have to tell me more about them on the ride.”

“Speaking of,” Mac said, setting down his fork, “You don’t have horses, so how are we going to ride?”

“My neighbor, he’s bringing two horses over shortly. I told him to get one very tame for you.” She winked.

“I supposed you are also an equestrian expert too?” Mac smiled.

“No, not really. Not much call for horses in the spy business. We’ve since upgraded to you know, cars and private planes.” She threw him a smile and he felt his heart thud. He fought the urge to reach for her and realized, much like the almost kiss earlier, what a bad idea that would be, bad but good. It was his usual MO, which hadn’t served him well in the past.

They left right after breakfast and Sydney saddled up both horses.

“Are you sure you’re up to this? I mean, you haven’t ridden in a while,” she smiled.

In one swift movement, Mac put his left foot in the stirrup, hoisted himself up to grab the saddle, and swung his long right leg across the horse.

“Stop it, Syd. I’m not some fragile city slicker.” Mac sat atop the horse and smiled at her; she had to remind herself to breathe. He looked impossibly good sitting atop the horse. No one had a right to look that good, least of all her ex-boyfriend.

Sydney mounted the other horse, grabbed the reins and smiled, “Let’s go then.” And with that she steered the horse toward the wooded area that circled her farm. She was grateful to have Mac behind her and out of her view. Seeing Mac looking all Prince Charming on a horse was overwhelming, even for her.

She led them through a path, behind her farm and into the woods. The ride was spectacular. The Indian summer was finally beginning to succumb to the crispness of an approaching fall. The warm air was tinged with a cool October breeze, and the trees once again were in flame. The wind whipped through the oak trees, tugging the red and gold leaves from their branches, dancing with them as they floated to the ground. As they rode, Mac thought of his own life and how he could never have predicted that one day he’d find himself here, on horseback, following Wonder Women. The path widened and they could ride side by side, Mac used his heels to give his horse a gentle kick to bring his horse alongside hers.

“It’s gorgeous here, Syd.” He threw her a brilliant smile and she gripped the reins tighter. She felt a kernel of desire, the desire for something other then her work, start to nudge its way into her heart. She did her best to ignore it. Finally she nodded and said:

“I miss this place so much; I wish I could get out here more often.”

“You can, just make the time.”

“I don’t like coming here alone.” The words, once out of her mouth, surprised her. She blinked and looked steadily ahead.

“Then do something about that,” he said softly.

“My life is too complicated.”

“That excuse sounds plausible, but you know that’s not true. You could if you wanted to.”

Sydney let out an impatient sigh, “I love my life, I don’t understand why no one gets that.”

Mac eyed her carefully, she wasn’t looking at him and because of that, he knew he’d struck a nerve.

“So what about you, Mac? I could say the same for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not sharing your life with anyone, either.”

Mac shrugged, “My track record isn’t stellar. I’ve had a few great chances that I blew up.”

“So you’re just out of chances then? No more opportunities?” Something inside her twisted ever so slightly, thinking of Mac with someone else. It shouldn’t bother her but it did, for reasons she didn’t think she wanted to discover.

Mac was silent for a long moment and then said, “When I first started cheating on Carolyn, it was out of desperation. I needed to feel connected to another human being. I struggled with the loss of our daughter, too, but for me it was different. Where Carolyn wanted to be alone, I didn’t.”

“And then?”

“At first it was desperation, then it became habit. I never set out to be one of those guys, a cheater, but that is what I became.”

“It’s not who you are, Mac.” Sydney said softly and she fought the urge to reach out and touch him.

Mac was silent for a moment and finally said, “You only know the me from high school and a lot’s changed. It is who I am, or at least who I was. I have a reputation. I would have never cheated on Kate. Not ever. But then I did, and I fell back into this thing with Carolyn that was unfinished.”

“Is it finished now?”

He nodded, “She and I talked and while I love her, and she me, we’re no longer
there
anymore. It’s not what either of us wants. Carolyn wants to travel, spend time with the boys, to live and just
be
.”

“Facing death brings great clarity.” Syd said softly.

“You mean Joe?”

“No,” she shook her head, “well, yes, certainly that changed me, but I’ve faced my own near death. Many times. Enough to know the difference between really living and a senseless existence.”

Mac tried to imagine Sydney facing her own death. Facing a gun, a knife, or perhaps both. But clearly she’d somehow managed to fight her way out of it and live to serve on another mission.

The path narrowed and Mac followed behind her again. They rode together in silence, until Sydney’s horse suddenly reared and neighed. Something had clearly surprised it, or scared it.

“Hold on!” Mac yelled behind her, but he could tell his warning was too late. She’d lost control of the reins enough that she started to tumble back. She struggled to push herself forward, but the horse reared again, and this time she lost her grip entirely and slid off the back. Thankfully, she was a skilled enough rider to instinctively slide her feet out of the stirrups as she fell. She tumbled back, and landed on the soft earth in front of Mac’s horse. The animal took off through the woods.

Mac dismounted immediately. “Sydney, my God, are you okay?” She lay still for a moment and then he heard her groan softly. He was on his knees beside her. His hands were on her face. “Syd, are you okay?” She had been knocked unconscious, but only briefly. She opened her eyes, blinked, and gave him a slight smile, “I’m fine, Mac…”

“You just fell off of a horse, you’re not fine.”

Mac’s arm was still around her and Sydney pushed herself up, “I’ve had worse things happen to me.” He stood up with her slowly, not letting her stand on her own.

Mac frowned, “I’m sure you have. Here, let me help you up. No arguing.”

“Does anything hurt?” he asked.

She shook her head. Keeping his arm around her back, with his other hand he took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“I’m really fine.”

She stood in front of him, leaves in her hair, and dirt caked on her jacket.

“Can you stop being Wonder Woman for a second and let a guy help you?”

Syd smiled, “Could you please stop calling me that?”

“Then stop acting like you are. Now, can you walk? Let me see your wrists, you fell pretty hard.”

Sydney looked around, “The horse is gone.”

Mac was still inspecting her, “Never-mind that, I’m sure he’s headed home. Now try to walk.” Mac still had his hands on her and she could feel something coil inside of her, her thighs warmed as he inspected her.

She tried to step back to gain some distance. “See?” She threw him an unsteady smile, “I’m fine. But we should get back.”

Mac looked around, well now they’d both need to share his horse. The thought was more than appealing to him.

“Get on first and I’ll get behind you,” he said.

Sydney blinked and tried to swallow her desire to kiss him. “I-um, fine, sure, whatever.”

Mac grinned, “Unless you’d rather be on top,” His comment, with its sexual undertones, did not go unnoticed. He walked over to her and she felt herself step back.

She waved a hand, and walked over to the horse, “Whatever, it’s fine. We should get back before my neighbor wonders why one of his horses came back without a rider.”

“You want to call him?”

She shook her head and put a foot in the stirrup, “Cell coverage is too spotty in the woods. Come on, let’s go.”

Mac got on after her and sat pressed into her; he brushed her arms as he reached around her to grab the reins. Her skin prickled. This was going to be such a long ride home. As they took the same path back, she could feel his hard chest press into her back.

“Hold on, Syd, I’m sure you could handle falling off of a horse twice, but I’m not sure I could watch that a second time. God, for a minute there I thought…this could have been so much worse...” his words trailed off. His mouth was right by her ear and his voice almost made her dizzy. His cheek brushed her hair, “I don’t want to lose you again.”

Sydney didn’t respond; she couldn’t. No man had ever had this effect on her, not even Joseph. She had a core of steel, but none of that seemed to matter around MacDermott Ellis.

They arrived at the house, and Mac told her he’d take his horse back as soon as he got her inside and on the couch, so she could rest or maybe take a bath and wash some of the fall off of her.

When he returned, he found Sydney, freshly washed and in the kitchen, making them lunch.

He walked in and shook his head, “Really? What the hell did I tell you? Can’t you for once let someone help you?” He noticed a slight limp as she moved back and forth in the kitchen. He walked over to her and picked her up.

“That’s it, I’m putting you on the couch and I’ll tie you to it to keep you there, though I’m sure my Boy Scout knots are no match for whatever knotting class you aced at the CIA.”

Sydney wanted to argue but didn’t. In one swoop he had picked her up, and she hated to admit it, but it was kind of nice.

Mac walked into the living and set her down gently on the couch, “Now, I’m going to get an ice pack because I saw you limp, and don’t try to tell me it’s nothing. I’m sure you’ve sewn your own stiches, but now we’re not in the middle of the desert in some godforsaken country and you don’t have to do everything by yourself.”

Sydney smiled, “Thank you, it’s really sweet of you.”

Mac returned a few minutes later with two bags of frozen vegetables and a towel, “These will have to do, Buttercup,” he said, using a pet name he’d called her in high school, (he named her buttercup because of her blond hair). Sydney looked surprised when she heard the name. He sat near her injured foot to rest a towel on it first, and then he folded the frozen veggies.

“You did hurt yourself, didn’t you?”

“A little,” she nodded, “but I’m sure it’s just twisted.”

Mac leaned over her, one hand still on the pack and the other was beside her, he looked at her and smiled, “You’re so damned brave now, Syd. I mean it’s hard to be a guy and not feel yourself shrink up being around someone like you, but my God, I’m so proud of what you’ve become.” He looked at her and realized how in awe he was of her, but even when she’d been young and shy, he had still found her the most amazing creature in the world.

“Y-you don’t have to hold that, Mac.” Sydney leaned forward and touched his hand where the pack was at her ankle.

Mac didn’t move, “My God, you’re amazing…”

“For holding my own icepack?” She fought a smile and lost.

Mac didn’t flinch at her trying-to-make-light of it comment, “No, for everything else, what you’ve done with your life…” his words trailed off and he felt the desire to kiss her, to taste her lips was almost overpowering. He leaned closer to her, then reached and took her face in his hands. His eyes drank her in, as if he could gather her up.

Sydney didn’t move. She was held captive by his eyes that seemed to reach right into her soul.

“I missed you so much, Syd. When you were gone and I went off to college, I thought of you every day.” Then he leaned in and touched her lips with his own. His kiss was soft, warm, and familiar and every memory that she’d tried to shove aside came rushing back to the front of her mind. White heat bloomed in her chest like a time elapse movie of a flower on high speed. His kiss deepened and he pulled her to him. She let go of the pack on her foot and the bags of cold peas hit the ground. Neither of them seemed to notice. Mac parted her lips with his tongue and swept it inside her mouth, exploring, and kissing her deeper than she’d been kissed in a long, long time.

“Sydney,” he whispered her name, it sounded reverent on his lips, like some sacred word or poem. “Sydney,” he said again and she could feel how wet she was.

Her arms were around him, pulling him closer. Tracing the strong muscles in his back. He kissed her neck and she let out a little moan. She could feel his hands on her as one strong hand cupped her breast.

She couldn’t. The thought slammed into her. Her life was too complicated and Mac, he would need more, want more…

“Mac,” she pulled back, her breath shaking out of her, God, how she wanted him, “I-I need to stop.”

He released her almost immediately, “Am I hurting you? God, I’m sorry, I should have been more careful with the fall. You probably….”

She put two fingers to his lips, “No, it’s fine. I mean I’m fine, I just. Mac we can’t do this.”

Mac sat back and realized, begrudgingly, that she was right.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at her. His arms ached to hold her again.