The Day He Kissed Her (25 page)

It was simple stuff, but his mom was a pro, and Mac sat back, feeling a sense of pride as Lily dug in and gave a wholehearted thumbs-up when she tasted the meatloaf.

Conversation was light—they talked about the state of the Detroit Tiger’s season, the fact that old man Lawrence was finally gonna sell his bait and tackle, and bets were taken on whether Liam’s ball team was going to win their next game.

His sister was quiet, which kind of surprised him, but Mac didn’t have time to dwell on it—he was too busy eating up the good vibes, happy smiles, and the fact that in the space of half an hour, Lily had managed to charm his mother in the same easy way she’d charmed him.

It struck him then. Lily St. Clare was a whole lot different from the woman he’d met New Year’s Eve. Heck, she didn’t bear any resemblance to the one he’d run into Memorial Day at the Edwardses’.

He raised his wineglass and took a sip, unable to take his eyes off her as she smiled at something his nephew said. Her entire face lit up when she smiled, and he was pretty sure it was the nicest damn thing ever. He thought that maybe he had something to do with it.

He took a sip of wine and settled back in his chair. He was good with that.

After dinner was done, he helped clear the table and wished that his mother didn’t make such a big deal about it. Christ, it wasn’t as if he’d never cleared a table before—at least he was pretty sure that he had.

Maybe. Back in the day.

His mom had baked an apple cobbler, and he grabbed some napkins and tossed them onto the table. There was just enough time to have dessert, maybe a cup of coffee, and then he and Liam had to take off for the ballpark.

His cell rang just then—O’Malley—so he gave a quick apology and headed outside to take the call. It was quick, just a few questions pertaining to the golf course, and Mac had just pocketed his cell when Becca joined him on the deck.

He knew something was up as soon as he caught sight of her. She was way too quiet, way too tense, and when she worried her bottom lip like that, he knew that whatever it was, he probably wasn’t going to like it.

“What’s going on, Becs?”

He asked the question even though he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know. Because if she told him that she was getting back together with David—that she’d forgiven the bastard and they were going to play nice again, he just might lose it.

Becca blew out a short, harsh breath and glanced back into the kitchen, making sure the door was closed securely before she turned to him.

Okay. The covert shit? That wasn’t good.

“Don’t freak out,” she said.

And that wasn’t good either.

Mac fingered his cell in his pocket, staring at his sister and wondering where this was all going.

“Just spit it out, Becca.”

She ran her hands through her hair and muttered, “Shit,” before staring up at him and Mac’s blood went cold when he got a look at what was there.

Fear.

Cold. Hard. Fear.

“God, I should have waited,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Becca, you’re starting to piss me off. What the hell is going on?”

She took a moment, tugging on the edge of her faded blue T-shirt. She smoothed out the tops of her shorts, her fingers lingering, moving in circles, and by this time Mac’s nerves were stretched tight.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

He shouldn’t have come. He should have known that there was no way this night could have ended well.

“I heard Mom on the phone this morning.”

Mackenzie arched an eyebrow. What the hell did that have to do with anything? “And?”

Becca’s eyes slid from his, and he took a step forward.

“She was talking to a lawyer.” Becca still couldn’t meet his eyes and suddenly Mackenzie got it. He got it loud and clear.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, eyes swinging toward the door that led to the kitchen. “He’s getting out?” His tone was hard and cold.

Becca finally met his gaze and nodded. “He might already be out. I don’t know. I didn’t…Mom hasn’t said anything to me and I…” She visibly shuddered. “I just didn’t ask. Maybe I don’t want to know, but if he’s out and he comes back here…”

Mac turned on a dime and pushed past his sister. “You might have a problem asking her, but I sure as hell don’t.”

His face was a cold, hard mask when he walked into the kitchen. It must have been, because when Lily glanced up with a smile, it faltered and then left her completely.

“Mackenzie?” she asked carefully.

He didn’t hear it. Just like he didn’t hear his sister come in after him, begging him not to cause a scene. His mom had just placed the cobbler onto the table, and Liam was already digging in when Mac rounded on them.

“When is he getting out?”

His focus was on his mother. On the way her fingers trembled slightly as she pushed the cobbler into the middle of the table. On the way she moved back, her eyes never meeting his.

And on the way her shoulders slumped forward, as if the weight of the entire universe was on them.

“Mackenzie,” she said with a hint of warning in her voice. “Now isn’t the time.”

“Are you kidding me?” he exploded. He glanced back at his sister. Was their mother crazy? Did she think that this wasn’t a big deal?

“When the hell is Ben Draper getting out?” He barely ground the words out because his jaw was clenched together so tightly that pain shot up the side of his head.

Lila Draper squared her shoulders and faced her son. “He is your father, Mackenzie.”

For a moment he was speechless. He glanced at Lily, into her clear blue eyes, and he knew that this wasn’t fair to her. She shouldn’t have a front-row seat to the ugliness that was his family.

But he couldn’t help himself.

Because the anger that boiled inside him wasn’t going away. In fact, the longer that he stared at a mother—who was looking at him as if he was the one with the problem—the more the anger inside him festered. It twisted and turned because it wanted out.

“Ben Draper is not my father.”

“How can you say that?” His mother’s face flushed.

“He’s nothing more than a sperm donor.” Mac clenched his hands together, wishing he could hit something. “He hasn’t earned the right to be called a father. He’s a bully who blames all of his problems on everyone else. He’s a man who gets through life using his pretty face and his fists. He’s a lazy bastard who can’t hold a job because he doesn’t want to. Shit, the only form of exercise he gets is lifting a goddamn bottle of Jack to his mouth.”

“Mackenzie,” his mother said again, her voice rising.

But there was no stopping him now. Something broke open inside Mac. Something dark and dangerous. Something that had been festering longer than he could remember.

“Ben Draper likes to beat the shit out of his wife. You laid down like a fucking dog and you let him beat you.”

“Mackenzie!” His mother looked horrified, her eyes wide and her bottom lip trembling. All of which would normally make Mac feel like a bag of shit. But tonight? Right here, in that moment, it did nothing.

“And then you let him beat us.”

His mother’s lips moved, but he didn’t hear anything.

Liam scrambled up from his chair and disappeared, no doubt the anger in the room brought up memories the kid would rather forget. Lily shot a glance between Becca, Mackenzie, and his mother before following Liam out of the kitchen and leaving the three of them alone.

Happy. Fucking. Family.

This had to be some kind of record, a complete one eighty in less than five minutes. Only here in this house.

“Mac, maybe we should just…calm down for a moment.” Becca froze when he glared at her.

“You should be the one freaking the hell out, Becs. You live here now. You live here now because you married a man who is just like Ben, a man who beat you and put you in the hospital.”

He turned back to his mother. “Is he coming back here? Are you really going to let that bastard back into this house with Becca and Liam here?”

His mother seemed to have gathered herself together, because no longer was her bottom lip trembling. No longer was her voice shrill. Nope. She was back to the even-keel woman he’d known his entire life. She was lost in a sea of denial. “This is his home, Mackenzie. What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell him to stay the hell away. Tell him that this time you’re choosing Becca. Tell him that this time you’re choosing your grandchild.” God, why couldn’t she see? “For Christ’s sake, Mom, why don’t you try being a mother for once instead of a goddamn doormat?”

Lila Draper’s face whitened, and she took a step back. She reached for the cobbler on the table and set it on the counter, her back to Mackenzie as she started to foil the top.

“You’re going to be late for Liam’s ball practice,” she said.

Christ, this was typical.

“So that’s it? There’s no discussion? You’re just going to let him walk right back into this house?”

His mother stilled, her shoulders hunched forward in a way that begged him to go to her, but Mac’s feet felt like they were encased in cement. His chest was so goddamn tight he could barely breathe.

His sister stood in front of him, tugging on his arm in an effort to get him to leave, and wasn’t that a joke. He was trying to help her, and she wanted him gone.

“You don’t live here anymore, Mackenzie. There’s nothing to discuss. I think you should leave,” Lila said.

That thing inside him broke apart. It shattered into a thousand pieces and left him shaking from the force of it.

It was a hundred parts rage. A hundred parts disbelief. And a hundred parts sorrow.

He turned around and left without a backward glance.

Chapter 25

Lily woke up to rain.

She’d gone to bed listening to the rain—alone—and she’d lain there for hours waiting for Mac to join her, but he never came. She lost count of how many times she’d grabbed her cell phone, hoping for a text, hoping for some kind of word from him, telling her that he was okay.

But there was nothing.

And now it was still raining and she felt like shit. Her stomach wasn’t exactly stable and a headache poked the corners of her mind.

With a groan, she slid from her bed and padded into the kitchen, on the hunt for coffee. After brewing a small pot, she added cream and sugar, and wandered into the living room, her eyes on the easel in front of the window. It boasted a blank canvas, one she’d been excited to fill only the day before.

But now?

She dragged her eyes away and took a sip of coffee.

Now she didn’t feel like doing anything.

So she didn’t. She perched on the edge of the sofa and stared out into the rain. The sky was dark and the gray clouds bulbous. From what she could tell, the rain was on for the entire day and that was annoying, and it sure as hell would do nothing to improve her black mood.

She stared at her cell, her thumb rolling over the touch screen.
Dammit, Mackenzie, why the hell did you bail on me last night?
With a curse, she tossed the cell onto the table and tried to forget about it. She would not be that pathetic girl waiting for a phone call.

She just wouldn’t.

Two cups of coffee later, Lily was trying to decide whether she would get dressed or not when the doorbell rang. For a few seconds, she considered not getting it—she knew it wasn’t Mackenzie because he would just walk in—but when the bell sounded again, it was joined by someone shouting her name.

Jake!

She hurried down the hallway and yanked the door open, motioning him inside. The rain was falling harder now, so hard that it bounced back up when it hit the stone pathway. “You alone?” she asked, peeking behind him.

“Yeah,” Jake answered as he slipped out of his work boots. “Damn, it’s nasty out there.” He shook some excess water off his head and flashed a grin, but it was a grin that didn’t exactly creep into his eyes. “I’m on my way to the site, but thought I’d stop in for coffee.”

Coffee. Right. Jake was a two-cups-in-the-morning kind of guy, and she knew damn well that he’d had his two cups with Raine. Her stomach roiled, and for a second, Lily felt bile rise in the back of her throat. This was so not about coffee.

She really needed to get it together.

Lily pointed to the kitchen, and Jake followed her down the hall, sliding his large frame onto one of the chairs at her counter while she poured him a cup.

“So,” she said as she pushed the mug to him, “what’s going on?”

Jake knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t into bullshit, and she appreciated when he cut to the chase.

“Mac’s at my place.”

“Huh,” she said, her mind wandering.

After the scene at his mother’s place, he’d dropped her back here and then left for the ball diamond. He hadn’t said much to her other than he wasn’t sure if he’d be back. She knew he was angry and confused and pissed off, but she had no idea how to deal with it and no idea how to comfort him.

She’d pressed a kiss to his cheek and told him to call her when he was ready.

But he never called.

“Sal got ahold of me at midnight, wanting me to scoop his drunk ass up from the Coach House.” Jake set his cup onto the counter. “He was in bad shape. I haven’t seen him that out of it since Jesse died.” He paused. “Did you guys get into it?”

Lily’s eyebrows shot up. “What? He told you that we got into a fight?”

“No. He didn’t say much of anything. He kept muttering something about Boston, and I just figured that you and him got into it.”

Lily pushed her cup away. Jesus, her stomach really wasn’t feeling good. “His dad is getting out of jail, and I think that his mother is letting him move back in with her. Mackenzie didn’t take it real well.”

“Shit,” Jake said. “That’s not good.”

“No,” Lily replied. “It isn’t.” She fingered her coffee cup. “What’s the story there anyway? Mackenzie’s never really talked about his father, though I get that they weren’t close.”

Jake leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

“His father…God, where would I even start?” Jake scrubbed at his chin and sighed heavily.

“If you don’t feel comfortable sharing, I understand.”