Love on a Deadline (11 page)

“Now that we know who the champion marshmallow roaster
is”—Hollis waved her marshmallow stick in the air and performed a little victory dance—“Connor and I are going for a walk.”

Over the campfire, Ethan saw Mac's deer-in-the-headlights look as his sister dragged her fiancé to his feet.

“But—”

“You and Ethan can keep the fire going!”

Uh-huh. Ethan had suspected Hollis was up to something.

He'd mentioned earlier that he was going to drive into town and take a quick walk-through at the clinic, but Hollis had complained he would miss out on their last chance to have a campfire. She hadn't told him that Mac would be there too.

Not that
he
was complaining. With all the prewedding
commotion, it had been impossible to get Mac alone over the past few days.

“Number ten.” Connor slipped his arm around Hollis's waist. “Kissing the woman I love under a full moon.”

Ethan looked up at the overcast sky. “You can't see the moon tonight.”

“I'll settle for one out of two.”

The look that passed between the couple could have roasted another marshmallow.

When they were out of sight, Ethan tossed another log on the fire, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

A warm breeze drifted across the lake, and Mac seemed pensive as she fanned out her fingers over the flames. “Connor . . . what kind of cancer was it?”

“Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.” The words unfurled with Ethan's sigh. “His last round of chemo was two years ago.”

“You didn't recognize Connor when he came into the ER?”

“I'm not exactly up on that kind of stuff . . . and the trailers for his movie were just starting to come out. Hollis knew who Connor was when I introduced them at the hospital fund-raiser, but no one else did. I'd invited Connor as a friend, not a celebrity guest.”

“Had the cancer returned?”

Ethan's hesitation sent a prickle of fear skating down Mac's spine. “No, it turned out to be a virus. But he's been feeling tired lately so his oncologist at Mayo scheduled some tests last week.”

“That's why you offered to help with the wedding plans.”

Ethan nodded. “Connor's numbers look good . . . but
there's always a chance the cancer will come back. He tried to talk Hollis into waiting another year, until he was officially in remission, but she agreed to a compromise.”

“What was that?”

“Two weeks.”

“Hollis mentioned it was a short engagement.”

“I think they might have set some kind of record.” Ethan ground out a stray spark that landed in the grass.

“Are you . . . worried?”

“I'm envious,” Ethan said. “And, to be honest, slightly nauseated.”

Mac laughed. “I know what you mean. When they look at each other, it's like everything else disappears.”

Caught up in the magic that was Mackenzie's laugh, Ethan met her eyes across the fire and everything . . . disappeared.

A log shifted, breaking the spell, and Mac stumbled to her feet. “I should go home.”

“I'll walk with you.”

“I know the way.”

“Coach would order a hundred crunches if he knew I let you walk home in the dark.” Ethan ignored the exasperated look Mac cast in his direction and fell into step beside her.

“The yard is going to look beautiful on Saturday.” Mac stopped along the path to admire one of the newly transplanted rosebushes.

“Mom declared war against beetles in her garden. She's also pulling weeds before they come out of the ground.”

“She did all this?”

“I think it was therapeutic. Beetles and weeds can't talk back.”

“Your mom hasn't been too demanding.” Mac nudged his ribs. “I think she's catching the vision of a rustic outdoor wedding.”

“Because of you.”

“Me?” Mac turned to stare at him.

“You can't deny it was pure genius,” Ethan mused. “Using the words
rustic chic
to describe the decorations.”

But the way Mac was staring at him—as if he'd lost his mind—told Ethan that she didn't realize what she'd done.

Nature, left alone, was unpredictable and messy, but if it was incorporated into a theme, well, his mother could work with that. It had made the last few days go much more smoothly for Hollis and Connor.

“You're amazing, Mackenzie.” And Ethan had a feeling that everyone knew it but her.

“I'm just . . . me.”

The clouds suddenly parted, and Ethan laughed as a band of moonlight illuminated the gazebo on the hill. Mac was ten feet away before Ethan realized she'd thought the laughter was directed at her.

“Wait!” He caught up to Mac before she reached the trees. “Look up.”

Mac tipped her face toward the sky and Ethan's eyes skimmed over the smooth contour of her brow, down her straight little nose with its dusting of freckles, and lingered on the plush curve of her lower lip.

“Connor and Hollis's full moon,” she said, laughing.

“I'm sure we saw it first.”

Mac's laughter died when Ethan drew her slowly into the circle of his arms.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured.

Looking into Mac's velvet-brown eyes, Ethan could see she didn't believe that, either.

He'd just have to show her.

Ethan tugged her closer and Mac's breath rushed out, mingling with Ethan's as he captured her lips.

The night Ethan had taught her how to dance he'd kept a respectable distance between them. But now Mac could feel the rapid beat of his heart, the warmth of his hands on the small of her back.

The kisses Mac had dared to imagine when she was fifteen were nothing compared to the reality of being held in Ethan's arms.

Over the past few days, Mac had tried to convince herself that what she felt for Ethan was nothing more than nostalgia. The embers of a schoolgirl crush she'd had on the boy next door.

But as Ethan deepened the kiss, Mac wasn't thinking about the past. She wasn't thinking about dances and football games and all the times she'd been tongue-tied and blushing in Ethan's presence.

She was thinking this was a man she could spend the rest of her life with . . .

Lost in the kiss, Mac didn't hear Hollis calling Ethan's name until she stumbled out of the shadows. The panic in Hollis's voice split them apart.

Ethan was at her side in an instant. “What's wrong?”

“Brenda, Connor's agent, called a few minutes ago.” Hollis sagged against him. “Someone from a newspaper contacted her and asked if she could confirm that the reason we decided to get married so quickly was because Connor . . . Connor isn't expected to live very long.”

“What? How did that get out?”

“I don't know, but Brenda told Connor not to talk to the media until she figures out the best way to handle the situation.”

“It'll be okay, Hollis.”

“This is why Connor wants to keep his professional and personal lives separate. He knows the media is always looking for a story that will grab people's attention. They don't necessarily care if it's the truth.”

Ethan was no longer looking at Hollis . . . He was looking at
her
.

He didn't think . . .

Mac instinctively took a step backward. “I should go.” Her throat started to close. “So you can talk to Connor.”

“Mac—”

Mac didn't wait to hear what Ethan had to say. Because his expression had said it all.

Mac caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror as she
finished getting ready for work the next morning and winced. Now she understood why most women took the time to apply makeup. Right now she could have used something to hide the lavender shadows under her eyes.

She could call Grant and tell him that she was sick. Under the circumstances, it wouldn't be a lie . . .

“Sweetheart?” Coach's voice floated up the stairs. “You have company.”

Mac's stomach turned a slow cartwheel. “I'll be right down.”

She wove her hair into a loose braid and padded downstairs. Cast a longing look at the door before she followed her dad's cheerful baritone to the kitchen.

Hollis sat at the table, sipping hot chocolate from the lopsided cup Mac had made at summer camp when she was in fifth grade. Connor stood at her shoulder, the smile absent from his eyes.

The fact that Ethan wasn't with them added to the weight pressing down on Mac's chest.

“I'm going to take Snap for his morning walk.” Coach set a cup of hot chocolate on the table across from Hollis before he left the room.

Mac didn't know whether to sit or stand. And for someone who made her living stringing words together, she had no idea what to say.

Connor's ragged sigh broke the silence as he pulled out a chair and sat down next to Hollis. “Ethan told you how we met—”

“Yes, but I wasn't the one who leaked the story,” Mac interrupted. “I wouldn't do that.”

“What . . . of course you wouldn't.” Hollis looked stunned by the suggestion. “Why do you think I was so happy you were doing the interview? When you were on the high school newspaper, you had a reputation for being honest but fair”—she smiled—“even if you didn't particularly like the person you had to interview.”

Mac managed to smile back.

“We came to ask for your help,” Connor said.

“My help?”

“I told my agent about the cancer when I signed with her, but the opportunity to audition for the movie came up a few months after I'd finished treatment.

“Maybe it was pride, but I didn't want anyone to know about it because I was afraid it would become my identity.
That's Connor Blake. He's the actor who had cancer.
Brenda was more afraid that it might jeopardize future contracts. I could be considered a risk because I'm not technically in remission yet.”

“The media has a way of twisting things, so we want to shut the rumors down as soon as possible,” Hollis said. “And the only way to do that is to let people know the truth.”

Mac realized they were both looking at her expectantly. “You want
me
to write the story?”

Connor flashed a smile that Mac knew would be on the cover of every entertainment magazine in a few months. “Mackenzie Davis is the only person I would consider sitting down with for an interview.”

An exclusive.

Mac swallowed hard. “I'm honored—”

“Great.” Connor folded his hands behind his head. “Then let's get started.”

“You want me to interview you
now
?” Forget the hot chocolate. Mac needed a cup of coffee.

“I've got other things on my mind. In two days we'll be getting married.” Connor waggled his eyebrows at Hollis. “And leaving for our honeymoon.”

“Men.” Hollis rolled her eyes. “Where do we start, Mac?”

“We start by deciding what social media outlet you want to use.”

“You decide.” Connor shrugged. “Make it count, though. I only want to do this once.”

“And I get to see the photographs first.” Hollis lifted her chin. “Just to make sure you got my best side.”

Mac could feel the tension slipping away. “I will.”

“Speaking of best sides . . .” Hollis leaned forward. “You don't look so good. Your eyes are all red-rimmed and puffy.”

“So are yours.”

“Betty at the Clip and Curl can work miracles.” Mischief lit Hollis's eyes. “She'll even do your nails.”

“I'd rather eat a minnow.”

They burst out laughing.

Connor's gaze bounced between them. “Should I even ask?”

Hollis rested her cheek against his shoulder. “Inside joke, honey.”

“Got it.” Connor smiled at Mac. “So . . . what's your first question?”

Mac asked the first one that popped into her head. “Does Ethan know you asked me to write the story?”