Speaking of Love (Perfect Kisses) (14 page)

He didn’t have to turn his head to know she was staring at him in the darkness. But he didn’t look her way. He knew if he did—that if he reminded himself that she was still in his bed, looking sexy and disheveled from his kisses—he would not be responsible for his actions.

A moment later, she seemed to catch his vibe when she slid her legs off the bed. He heard her bare feet hit the hardwood floor. The bed barely moved from her weight when she stood up.

He continued staring out the window.

“Rick?” she said.

He swallowed. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, but…” When she trailed off, he turned to her. “It’s too dark. I can’t see anything.”

Rick knew this was true and not some feminine device to drive him insane. With the hall light out while they had been squirrel hunting, he had barely been able to make his way down the hall, and he’d been to this house a hundred times. Mac would most likely take a wrong turn and fall down the stairs.

“I’ll walk you,” he said and made his way to his feet. Her shape was barely visible by the light coming through the windows. When he got to her side, he didn’t offer his arm or take her hand but simply led the way down the hall toward her room.

“Thank you,” she said, passing him and opening the door. “Sorry.” She bit her lip and gazed up at him. “Tomorrow?”

Pain hitched in Rick’s chest. He stepped back.

“Yeah. I’ll see you then,” he said, and he shut her door.

Chapter Twenty

Mac hadn’t moved, but stood and stared at the closed door, counting a hundred beats of her heart, feeling the deepest misery in her soul.

She had hurt him, or frustrated him…at the
very
least.

It sucked—what she’d had to do, pull them both away from the edge before they fell over. Mac knew they would get their chance. Just…later. Something had changed between them. Whatever it was, it felt important and permanent, and neither of them could deny it now. But that didn’t mean they were allowed to act on it right away. Not when her cousin’s words were ringing in her ears.

Brandy thought she could be falling for Rick. Mac cringed at the very idea. If she and Rick had finished what they’d started, and Brandy showed up here tomorrow and learned what had happened, she would be shattered. Mac couldn’t do that to her own flesh and blood.

Surely Rick realized this, too. Hadn’t Mac shown him in the most obvious way that she cared about him? That she wanted him more than anything? They would just have to get through tonight, apart from each other, then she would talk to Brandy the second her plane landed at ten a.m. tomorrow.

Very soon, it would all be okay.

Better than okay.

She touched her fingers to her lips, feeling where Rick had been. A sob caught in her lungs and she longed for him with every inch of her body. They were one closed door away. One dark, creepy, squirrel-free hallway was all that separated her from what she needed.

Feeling her resolve weaken, she reached out and curled her fingers around the doorknob that led to him.

…

Rick dropped his chin, his hand still holding onto the knob leading to Mackenzie’s room. Every instinct in his body was telling him to turn that knob and burst through the door. He needed her, he knew that just as clearly as he knew his own name. If he swept her up, maybe his need would be enough for the both of them.

His fingers tensed and gripped the knob.

But what if he offered himself to her again? What if he offered her everything he had, his heart in his hand, his body at her feet, and she still turned him down?

If he planned on salvaging anything of their relationship, he knew he needed to leave her alone. If he gave her the chance to break his heart again, he might not recover enough to stay in her life. The mere thought of that caused a deeper ache to pierce his soul.

With a final exhale, he dropped his hand and turned from the door.

He walked past the tangled blankets of his bed, unable to face it. The downstairs was cold without the fire and without Mac to keep him warm. He saw the blanket on the floor where they had left it. He couldn’t face that, either. In fact, everything in the damn room reminded him of Mac.

After grabbing his bag from upstairs, he pulled on sweats, running shoes, and his coat. It had started to snow again, but Rick didn’t care. If he didn’t get some air, put miles of space between him and the scantily clad Mac, he was liable to lose his mind.

The blast of cold air was a slap to his senses, and he welcomed it. He was careful not to slam the door when he walked out into the storm.

Chapter Twenty-One

Mac smoothed down her shirt and tucked the hair behind her ears. Maybe she should have worn her hair up. Or curly. Which way did Rick like it? Did she have any idea? Was there a standard for how you’re supposed to wear your hair when you’re about to talk about the future over scrambled eggs with the man you only recently realized you can’t live without?

Ha! That would be too easy, and “easy” was not Mac’s journey with Rick, thus far.

She added another layer of pearly eye shadow. That was always safe.

Maybe the weekend would be salvageable after all. All she had to do was walk downstairs and talk to Rick, make sure they were on the same page. She looked at her reflection and smiled, remembering how he had kissed her last night—yeah, they were on the same page, all right. Then she would have to sit Brandy down and explain what happened, break it to her that Rick was no longer on the market.

Maybe they would all have a big laugh about it. Maybe Brandy and Jeremy would hit it off and take a nice long walk through the snow, leaving Mac and Rick alone in the cabin to…

When she dropped her eye shadow brush in the sink, she couldn’t help giggling. This morning might just be the start of something huge.

She opened her bedroom door. The hallway was bright from the sunlight streaming through the windows. Mac noticed the wooden baseball bat on the floor, grinned, and stepped over it. At the end of the hall, she paused, wondering if Rick was still in bed around the corner. She was about to peek when she heard a sound coming from the second floor.

At the top of the landing, she found Rick standing near the foot of the stairs, holding a newspaper in one hand, looking up at her.

“Hi,” she said, unable to read his expression. What felt like about a million years later, his face broke into a smile, and Mac thought her heart might burst with joy.

With a determined look in his eyes, Rick dropped the paper and took two long strides toward her.

The sound from behind Rick made her jump.

“Hello? Kinz?”

Mac frowned at the new voice, and moved down one stair. Rick was still looking up, frozen in place, halfway to her. So close. His expression now read confused dread, mirroring hers exactly. Their gazes remained locked.

“Mackenzie Simms?” More knocking. “Anyone home? Rick?”

“Brandy?” Mac finally called out.

Rick had not moved his eyes from her.

She gave him a quick shrug and shake of the head.

“I thought they weren’t landing till ten,” Rick said through clenched teeth.

“It’s only
nine
,” Mac pointed out, panic squeezing around her throat.

“Hello? Mac?”

“You better”—Mac shrugged, unsure of what else to do—“open the door.”

“It’s unlocked,” Rick said, matching her full-shoulder shrug.

Evidently, Brandy caught this, because Mac heard the front door fly open. “Hey, you!”

Rick’s eyes moved from Mac and toward the vestibule. “Hi,” he said, and an instant smile appeared on his face. “You made it.”

A second later, a puff of white fluff rushed into the room and attached itself to Rick. Mac blinked and had the distinct
pleasure
of seeing her tall, shapely, beautiful, amazon cousin embracing Rick. She was in head-to-toe white, looking like a ski bunny out of Victoria’s Secret’s winter catalogue.

“I was thinking about you all last night,” Brandy said, causing Mac to feel a little queasy.

“Good to see you,” Rick said, patting her back.

Brandy wasn’t letting him go, and Mac couldn’t take another second of it, so she walked down the stairs, knowing that Jeremy was probably outside, schlepping in Brandy’s bags.

When Mac got to the front door, she found Jeremy standing there, holding a single red rose. “Hi,” Mac said, confused.

Jeremy swept in and hugged her low around the waist, lifting her up so her feet were dangling. She hated when her feet dangled like this. She wasn’t his dolly.

“Hey, Macky-Mac!” he exclaimed.

She flinched when he made a move to kiss her cheek. “You can put me down now,” she said.

Jeremy laughed, gave her a little squeeze, and set her down.

“So…” Mac said, her eyes held wide, her teeth biting the insides of her cheeks. “You’re…um…
early
!” She was trying to appear pleased, but knew she sounded baffled and squeaky.

“I know, right?” Jeremy grinned, sweeping his dark hair out of his eyes. He really did need a haircut.

“Uh,
how
?” she asked, her eyes wider, her speech squeakier.

“It pays to be a people person,” Jeremy said, closing the door behind him. “When Brandy and I were waiting for our flight, we noticed there was an earlier one. All I did was talk this old couple into switching with us. No problem.”

“An old couple?” she asked.

“They were going to see their grandbaby,” Brandy said. When Mac turned around, Brandy was pressed against the side of Rick. “But that boyfriend of yours, Mac,” Brandy continued, pointing a long, French-tipped fingernail at Jeremy, “is
quite
persuasive.”

“He’s not my—”

Mac was cut off by Jeremy clapping his hands then rubbing them together. “What’s on for today?”

Brandy whirled around to Rick. “Where’s our room?” she asked him.

Mac’s eyes flew to Rick, but his face was turned the other way.

“There’s an empty one on the first floor and one on the fourth,” he said, picking up the one bag that Brandy brought in with her. “You can choose whichever one you’d like to sleep in.”

“Oh.” Brandy appeared disappointed for a moment, but replaced it with another of her sunny grins. “Doesn’t matter to me,” she said, nudging Rick. “Where is yours?”

“I’m on the third floor,” he said. “I think you’d prefer the fourth,” he continued, heading for the stairs. “It’s small, but it has a view of the valley.”

“Sounds heavenly,” Brandy said. “I prefer the top, anyway.” She gave Mac a wink as she followed Rick up the stairs.

“I guess that means I’m on the first,” Jeremy said.

Mac was about to call him a regular Einstein, but restrained herself. Jeremy wasn’t the one she was suddenly and irrationally peeved at.

“There’s a pool table,” she said, brightly, deciding to make the most of it. She would just have to grab Brandy as soon as possible and talk to her about Rick. “Maybe we should get a tournament going.”

“What are the stakes, babe?”

“
Jeremy
.” She couldn’t help shrieking a giggle when he grabbed her around the waist. It was involuntary—her ribs were ticklish. “Let’s go,” she said, pulling him by the sleeve toward the descending staircase.

After Jeremy laughed and trotted down the stairs, Mac heard something move above her. She looked up and saw Rick standing at the landing, watching them.

…

Oh. So that’s how it is.

Rick had seen enough. He turned on his heel and continued up the stairs, following the trail of Brandy’s perfume.

Was there really something going on between Mac and Jeremy? If so, why had Mac seemed so freaked when Brandy and Jeremy had shown up early?

Rick had been more than freaked.

He’d been looking forward to sitting down with Mac this morning and talking through exactly what had happened last night, no more confusion. When he’d seen Mac coming down those stairs, he’d been about to rush up to meet her. Who knows what would have happened after that. But then he’d heard Brandy’s voice coming from outside and, no matter what his plan had been, it stopped dead.

Rick’s heavy feet made it up the last flight. Since there was only one bedroom on the top floor, Brandy had found her way just fine. When he entered the room to see if she needed anything, she had peeled off her coat and was sitting on the end of the bed.

“This is lovely,” she said, running her hands over the bedspread on either side of her. Then she bounced once and grinned. “Have you ever slept in this room?”

Rick swallowed, feeling a bit claustrophobic. “A few times.” He fingered the cuff of his shirt. “Is there anything you need?” He pointed though the door-less arch leading to the en suite bath.

When she stood up but didn’t say anything, Rick cleared his throat. He turned around and she gave him a little smile, sweeping a wave of hair back from her eyes.

“Well…” She bit her lip the same way Mac did.

“Well.” He started backing his way toward the bedroom door. “Why don’t you settle in while I run down and get the rest of your bags.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Be right back!”

As soon as the door was closed behind him, he leaned against it and sighed. He wasn’t comfortable staying upstairs, and he wasn’t thrilled about what he might find downstairs. But what was his other choice? Lay on his own bed and hope the yeti that he used to think lived in his closet would finally come out and eat him? He wasn’t
that
lucky.

He jogged down two flights and tried to ignore the sound of Mac’s laughter coming from the first floor. Apparently, she was occupied with getting Jeremy settled in. He owed Brandy nothing less. He strapped one of her bags crossway over his shoulder and grabbed the remaining two. He wasn’t sure why she needed four bags for an overnight trip, but he wasn’t about to question any woman about her packing needs.

Brandy had changed into a fuzzy pink sweater by the time Rick returned to her room, and her hair was up in a high ponytail.

“Oh, here,” she said. “Let me get this one.” She stepped up to him to free him from the bag strapped across his chest. “Here…just…duck your head.” When Rick did so, Brandy moved closer and rose up on her toes, the side of her face right in front of Rick’s. When he dipped his head for her, his nose was right at her neck. She leaned in as she reached around to grab the strap. “Sorry.” She laughed softly. “It’s stuck.” She lifted her chin and looked him in the eyes, her arms still around his neck.

“Oh.
Sorry
!”

Rick turned toward the voice in time to see an empty doorway. But he knew who’d just left.

“Mac!” He peeled off the bag from over his head on his way out the door.

“Mackenzie Jean Simms,” Brandy called out. “Haven’t you heard of knocking?” Her laughter followed Rick down the hall.

“Sorry,” Mac repeated, staring straight ahead as she marched down the stairs, Rick at her side. “I should have knocked. I didn’t know—”

“It was nothing,” Rick said. “She was only…”

Mac stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Only what?” she said, her hands on her hips.

“Only, um… I don’t… She…”

Mac rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Jer!” she called, walking toward the kitchen. “Jer! Are you hungry? There’s food!”

“Sweet!” Rick heard Jeremy’s heavy steps bounding up the stairs. “What have you got?” He was grinning when he appeared.

Yeah, Rick didn’t like him. His hair was too long and there was a joke printed on the front of his T-shirt that Rick didn’t understand. But since Rick was bound to play host for the next twenty-four hours, he would be polite if nothing else.

“The fridge is full,” Rick said politely. “Help yourself.”

Jeremy pulled open the refrigerator and started rooting around. “Did you make this pork, babe?”

And why did he call Mackenzie
babe
? Was it some private joke shared between the two “old friends?” Or was it more? Jeremy was getting on Rick’s last nerve and he’d only been there twenty minutes.

“Kenzie doesn’t cook,” Brandy said, drifting into the kitchen.

“I
did
make the pork,” Mac said, joining Jeremy at the fridge. “And please stop calling me that,” she whispered.

“Calling you what?” Jeremy asked, pulling out a pre-packaged bag of ham instead of Mac’s homemade pork. Another strike against him.

“
Babe
,” Mac whispered through clenched teeth, probably trying not to be overheard. “Stop calling me
babe
. I hate it.”

“You made this?” Brandy said, peeling back the lid of pork. “Like, actually cooked it?”

“And it was incredibly delicious.” Rick felt a little uneasy when they all turned to look at him.

“Last night we”—he ran a hand through his hair—“we…we
ate
together…and it was very good.” He looked right at Mac. “
Very
good.”

He hadn’t meant it to come out quite like that, but when a light pink blush swept up Mac’s cheeks, he couldn’t help smiling.

“Thanks,” she said, tucking some hair behind her ears. “So what do you guys want to do?”

“I want to play in the snow,” Brandy said enthusiastically.

“Looks like someone’s already been out there,” Jeremy said, pointing out the window.

“What?” Mac moved to the window. “Rick.” She grabbed the cord and pulled the blinds all the way up. “Someone was here last night. There are tracks in the snow.”

“That was me,” Rick said.

Mac turned around. “When did you go outside?”

“Um, right after…you…went to bed.” He rubbed his chin. He hadn’t shaved that morning. Noticing Jeremy’s college freshman day-old growth, he wished he would have. “It was pretty late.”

Mac’s eyebrows shot up. “You went out there?”

He shrugged.

“Why?”

“I felt like taking a run.”

Her brows arched higher. “You went for a run. Last night. In the snow?”