Secrets and Satin: A MacKenzie Novel (Romantic Suspense) (MacKenzie Family) (2 page)

“Jade!” Max cried out, catching her as her knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor.

She’d lived through unspeakable tragedy in her life—the death of her parents when she was a child, the loss of friends she’d worked and served with, wounds, betrayal, and the loss of her husband—a man she’d loved with everything she’d had to give. But she’d never wanted to die before—not until she lost the only piece of Donovan she had left—the child she’d already imagined to have Donovan’s wide grin and her green eyes.

Now there was nothing but blackness as the pain lessened and a cold numbness filled her body. In the back of her mind she thought she heard Max yelling something, calling her name, but she ignored it and embraced the cold. A smile touched her lips when she saw Donovan’s face—one last time.

***

Six Months Later…

His body hurt. Everywhere.

It felt like his brain was caught in quicksand—his every thought disappearing into darkness just when he thought he finally had a good hold. He remembered being in Mexico with the team, on the search and rescue for Darcy MacKenzie. And he remembered looking into the black eyes of Alexander Ramos just before Ramos pulled the trigger and hit Max in the leg as he dived to the side. The bullet had burned like fire, and he’d felt the crack of bone as the bullet lodged in his thigh. The last thing Max remembered was Ramos’s arm around Darcy’s throat and the gun in his hand pointed right at Max’s head. He hadn’t even had time to pray before everything went dark.

But, God, had there been pain. Pain that pulsed and tore inside his body and sat heavy on his chest like cinder blocks so he could only scream in his head. His arms and legs were mired in the quicksand and the pain built and burned inside him until he wondered if he was in hell.

He didn’t know how long he spent there—days—weeks—eternity. But he yearned for the one person who soothed his pain like a balm. When she came
, her voice cut through the fire in his head, and her touch eased the confusion and fear that crept up on him when the darkness came again. He’d latch onto her words, though he couldn’t always understand her, and he’d hold out hope that he’d one day get to see her again.

It was foolish, really. Jade Jax didn’t belong to him. She’d never belonged to him. But a man who’d experienced death could be nothing if not honest with himself. He’d wanted her from the first moment she and Donovan had been transferred to his team, and he’d been envious of the obvious love between the two of them. He would have hated Donovan just on principle if he hadn’t been such a good guy. So he’d been a friend to them both and kept his feelings to himself.

And then when Donovan died, he hadn’t given the job of breaking the news to Jade to someone else. To another female agent or to a doctor or the chaplain. He’d felt he’d needed to do it himself, and his need to be the one to comfort her had cost her everything. She had every right to hate him. But she kept coming back to soothe his pain just when he started to lose hope again.

Then one day the quicksand around his limbs wasn’t so heavy and the fire in his head died down to a simmer. And she was there again. Only this time her words were clear.

“Don’t die on me, Max,” she said, rubbing soothing circles in his palm with her thumb. “You’re the best partner I’ve ever had. Though I wouldn’t admit it to Donovan if he were still alive. You know how he liked to try and protect me instead of letting me do my job.”

He couldn’t say he blamed Donovan for being overly protective. He’d do the same thing in Donovan’s position. Warmth covered him like a blanket at the sincerity in her words. She didn’t hate him. She wanted him to live. He wanted to squeeze her hand, but his hand wasn’t obeying what his mind was telling it. But it was close—so close.

“You’re going to miss out on the fun stuff if you stay in here too long. Declan has big plans for all of us. There are changes coming.”

Interesting. And cryptic. Did that mean Declan had gotten the backing he’d petitioned for? Only a select few of them knew of Declan MacKenzie’s plan to open a separate agency and fulfill off-the-books government contracts.

Her hand brushed his hair back from his face, and he wanted to nuzzle against her, to soak in the warmth she brought everywhere she went.

“Just—just don’t die on me,” she said. “I don’t think I could go through it again. I’m not strong enough.”

She squeezed his hand and then he knew she was gone because the emptiness made him cold once more. But he didn’t return to the blackness he’d been mired in. His thoughts were clear and tingles pricked at his fingers and toes.

He believed in a higher power, and if this wasn’t a sign he didn’t know what was. Jade was his light. The person who’d brought him back from the brink of death. And she belonged to him. It could take months or years. He didn’t care. He’d wait patiently and bide his time. A gift like her wasn’t meant to be rushed.

Max felt the heaviness of sleep weigh down on him, but he didn’t fear it this time. It was only sleep. And just before he dropped off, he thanked God for giving him a second chance to love Jade.

***

Three months later…

“Come on, Devlin,” Jade said. “Ten more reps.”

“I’m going to kick your ass if you don’t get out of my face,” Max said. Sweat soaked his skin and his leg was on fire. He was in a pisser of a mood, but nothing he could say or do would budge Jade.

“You can certainly try. But that old guy over there looks like he could take you. You’ve really let yourself go. Too many Cheetos and General Hospital marathons. Eight more reps.”

“I know how many more fucking reps I have. I can count.”

He hated this. Hated that his leg felt as new and uncoordinated as a newborn’s. He hated that he had to use a walker or crutches just to go anywhere. At least he was out of the godforsaken wheelchair, but he wasn’t much better off. He couldn’t drive or go back to work. He was useless.

“I know that look,” she said, getting right into his face. “You’re feeling sorry for yourself again.”

Max hadn’t expected Jade to dedicate herself to seeing him through rehab. They were friends—they’d always been friends—but Donovan had been the glue between them. Or that’s what he’d always thought. Maybe he’d tried to keep that barrier between them because she was definitely in the “off limits” category. But loyalty meant something to Jade, and she’d picked him up from his house and driven him to rehab three days a week for the last two months, and she’d stood in front of him yelling encouragement and taunts in equal measures.

Spending so much time with her was heaven—and hell. She’d slimmed down since Donovan’s death—her tall frame was lean and muscular—and she had an edge to her that looked
dangerous. Her dark skin had lost its healthy glow and she’d cut off all of her beautiful dark hair, so it was short as a boy’s and wisped around her face, making her cheekbones more prominent and her face more angular. And her eyes—he’d always been a sucker for those eyes. Brilliant green and a little too lost—a little too sad.

He wanted to hold her—to hug her and take care of her. She’d had much too little of that in her life growing up, and he knew that’s why Donovan had been so protective of her. But she didn’t need anyone to take care of her. And wouldn’t welcome it.

“You’re slacking on me, Devlin. If you’ve got time to daydream then you’re not working hard enough.”

He leaned forward and took her mouth in a hard kiss before she could say another word. When he pulled back
, her eyes had that deer in the headlights stare and her mouth had opened on a gasp.

“Good,” he nodded. “Looks like I figured out a way to shut you up.”

“Why’d you do that?” she asked. Her face paled and she took a step back, running her hand through her short hair with trembling fingers. He felt like a total cad.

“Sorry. It was self-preservation. I thought you’d prefer a kiss instead of my hands around your throat.”

Her breath shuddered out with a laugh and she relaxed. “I guess I have been pushing you pretty hard. Maybe we should call it a day.”

“I’ll finish the damn reps, woman. I’m not an invalid.”

Jade rolled her eyes and Max gritted his teeth. He struggled through the last two reps and let the leg weights drop back to the machine with a clank. He felt a little sick and a lot exhausted. “Finished. Kiss my ass, Jax.”

“It’s a good thing I know you so well. Someone else might take offense.”

She wrapped her arm around his waist and helped him stand and stretch a little. He squeezed her shoulder, silently apologizing for his behavior, and said, “Yeah. I guess it’s a good thing. Sorry about the kiss.”

“Your technique needs work, Devlin, but I guess it beats the hell out of being strangled to death.”

Max stopped her before she could drag him out to the car. His limbs were shaking with exhaustion and he just wanted to lie down, but he needed to get the words out. “I haven’t thanked you for being here for me.” What he didn’t say was that she’d been there for him when even his own family had been absent over the last months.

“That’s what family does, babe.”

He couldn’t have said it better himself. There was the family a person couldn’t choose, those that shared blood and were obligated to love you because of it. And there was the family that didn’t share blood but chose to love you anyway. He much preferred the latter.

***

Six months later…

“Jesus, Devlin,” Jade said, clapping her hands over her eyes. “Your neighbors must love you.”

It was just past eight in the morning and she’d only planned to drop off the little going away gift and leave. She hadn’t been prepared for Max to answer the door stark naked and angry as a bear. His morning beard was scruffy and glinted with hints of red in the sunlight, and his arm was thrown across his eyes. His chest was broad and ridged with muscle, his waist trim, and a light smattering of white blond hairs trailed down his flat stomach and to the very impressive inches of flesh below.

She’d taken in the full sight of him before slamming her eyes closed. Not that having her eyes closed would erase what she’d seen. Her mouth went dry, and something like fear clutched in her belly. She never thought of Max as a man—well, maybe she had a little, but that was only because he’d kissed her and she remembered the heat of his lips against hers and the tingles that had awakened inside her dormant body. He was her friend and he stayed nicely tucked away in that “friend” box.

He grunted something unintelligible at her and went back into the house, leaving the door wide open.
Jade followed him in, admiring the back view as only a woman could, and closed the door behind her. She’d have to be dead not to notice, and that was something that had become increasingly clear over the last few months—she wasn’t dead. Shame ate at her as thoughts of her husband came to mind and she averted her gaze.

Max’s house had always been a little stark, even though it was about ten times the size of her apartment. It was all white walls and neutral colors, light hardwood floors and stainless steel appliances. A few photographs of the team sat about here and there, but he wasn’t one for plants or dust catching knickknacks other than a signed football that sat in a glass case on his mantel. Boxes were stacked and labeled, and it looked like he was all but ready for the moving company to come load his things.

“I take it the boys decided to send you out in style,” she said, breaking the silence.

Max ignored her and walked into the kitchen. It was a big open space, and the only thing that divided it from the living room was the long island counter and the barstools that sat in front of it. He dunked his head into the sink, dousing himself with cold water. He’d let his hair grow longer since the accident, and when he came back up for air it dripped into his face and on
to the counter.

Beads of water snaked down his naked chest, and Jade licked her lips, following the trails with her gaze until they disappeared below his waist. Her skin flushed hot and her nipples beaded beneath the thin tank top she wore. Her mind fought against what he
r body seemed to want—screamed that she wasn’t ready for this—while the throbbing bud between her legs argued that it wouldn’t mean anything. It would be a mindless release, and just because her heart was dead didn’t mean her body needed to suffer needlessly.

Max dug around blindly in the drawer next to the sink and pulled out a dishtowel, drying his face and giving her a look that would have had her shaking in her skin if she’d been anyone else. She crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow.

“Why the hell do you always have to be so damned chipper at the crack of dawn? It’s an unforgivable personality trait.”

“That’s funny, because I’ve always thought the fact you can’t hold your liquor better than a college freshman was pretty unforgivable.”

“I’m sure that’s supposed to be funny.”

“Maybe you’ll feel better if you put on some pants. It’s probably not a good thing for every housewife on the street to know you’re circumcised.”
Please
put on some pants, she prayed. Her control was slipping by the second.