Not So Happily Ever After (British Bad Boys)
Page 7
It’s a question, but what the hell is he talking about? “Where’re you going?”
He gives a vague shrug. “Back to reception.”
I shoot a glance at his bag. No way. “You’re not sleeping there tonight, are you?”
He lets out a pained breath. “No. I’m going to sleep on one of the guys’ sofas. It’s not a problem. I’ve done it before.”
Not a problem? My entire body burns, and not in a good way. Before I can do the whole cool, calm, and collected thing, the word vomit spews.
“My God, Will. Do you honestly think I can’t control myself around you so much that I’ll jump your bones as soon as you’re asleep?”
Well done, Mackenzie. I started an argument within half an hour of arriving. Are my pathetic urges that obvious? I was so sure I’d managed to bury them. Obviously, that was a fail. Seems like the only way I can be in the same room as Will without him guessing I still have a thing for him is if I hide behind my shield of snark.
So much for all my good intentions.
Now would be a good time to sink through the floor and disappear.
“I wish,” he growls under his breath. My humiliated self-preservation diatribe screeches to a halt, mid-thought.
“What?”
He takes a deep breath as though he’s about to confess to murder. “It’s not going to happen. I get that. But I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable or…whatever…this weekend. Don’t want you thinking I set you up. They must’ve had a last-minute booking. Midweek, there were two pods available.”
I have the scary urge to laugh. Not just because he didn’t guess I haven’t totally managed to put him in the friend-zone yet, but because he’s obviously in the same boat.
That isn’t a good thing. I know that. But the relief is great.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t think you set me up. Seriously. It’s not like we haven’t shared a room before.”
Whoa. Heat blasts through me at my gall. It’s the first time either of us has alluded to that night. By the shock on his face, he can’t believe I did, either.
“Yes. And look what happened.”
“It wasn’t that bad.” I’m not sure that came out quite the way I meant. Luckily, he grins. Then again, it takes a lot to offend him. I should know, considering all the practice I’ve had over the last couple of years.
“But not something we should ever repeat.”
The words hang there, like an unexplored labyrinth of truth and dare. He’s still smiling, as though we’re just having a laugh, but under the surface, tension ripples.
It’s not all in my mind. He’s looking at me the way he did that Christmas, before we slipped out of the party and ended up in his room. There are a thousand reasons why we should never do that again. And I can’t think of a single one.
Maybe Brooklyn had the right idea when she shoved those condoms in my bag last night?
I clear my throat and rake through my mind for a flirty response. Except all the upper functions of my brain have gone AWOL.
But I need to say something.
“Because that would be a disaster.” My voice is all breathy, as though I mean the complete opposite of what I’m saying. Do I?
God, no. We can’t go there again.
Can we?
He looks wary, like he doesn’t believe me. Am I really that transparent to him? My breath stalls in my throat, and it’s like time stands still.
“Mac.” His voice is husky, and it’s the sexiest sound ever. Stop thinking about him like that. But it’s a faint demand, a reminder I don’t want to hear because the heat in his eyes is incinerating my wavering protests.
And then someone raps on the half-open front door, and a perky feminine voice slams through my lustful haze. “Hey, Will!”
…
Will
What the fuck?
I straighten so fast, I get whiplash. What just went down here?
Nothing. But I can’t shift the feeling that whatever we said, we meant something else entirely.
You’re losing it. Like Mac pointed out, if we cross that line it’d be a disaster.
There’s no time to figure out if I made a prat of myself. Luce is standing by the door, a big grin on her face as she glances between Mac and me. I run my hand over my head and drop my rucksack onto the sofa.
“Hey,” I respond. I sound rat-arsed, despite not having had anything to drink since Tuesday night. It’s an effort to focus when all my blood has migrated south. “Mac, this is Lucinda, one of the partners of Oakland. Luce, meet Mackenzie.”
“Hi.” Is it my imagination or is Mac’s voice unnaturally loud? It’s your guilty conscience.
“Hey, Mackenzie. I just dropped by to make sure everything’s okay. And invite you to a barbecue tonight.”
“Oh,” Mac says. “That sounds great. Thanks.”
Luce transfers her gaze to me. It’s hard to tell, but I think she’s smirking behind her smile. Why the fuck did I think it was a good idea to bring Mac here? My Uni mates can be real dicks at times. “See you about seven, then? Bring beer.”
She saunters off, and I exhale a long breath. It’s almost four, and I didn’t bring any beer with me. I turn to Mac, who’s retreated to the other side of the pod. Not that it makes much difference. One false move and we’ll collide with each other.
In your dreams, mate.
“The grand tour will have to wait. Want to come with me to the village?”
“Sure.” She checks her phone before sliding it into her back pocket. As I shut the door behind us, I catch sight of my rucksack on the sofa. There’s no way I can resist her in close quarters like this.
Where the hell am I sleeping tonight?
It doesn’t take long to drive to the village, and I park behind the tourist center. There’s one main street, with numerous inns and B&Bs, and we walk along the cobbled pavement toward the supermarket.
“I love this place.” Mac’s gazing at the medieval church that sits by the edge of the river. “If you could just get rid of the traffic, it’s like stepping back in time.”
I glance at the array of shops that sell everything from mountaineering and climbing equipment to Welsh tapestry gifts. “You’ve a great imagination.”
“Not to be rude,” she says, and I brace myself for exactly that, “but I’m surprised your best mates from Uni set up this kind of thing. I would’ve thought they’d all be into insurance and finance in the city.”
“Nah. I always hung out with the adrenaline junkies.”
“I know you’ve always loved sport.” She gives me a sideways glance. “I remember you were on crutches for half of Year Eleven.”
I’m chuffed she remembers that, considering how long ago it was. “Yeah. Fun times.” Fun for me. For my parents, not so much. Although I was never in the same league as Lucas when it came to football, I played just about every sport going, and made a couple of local youth teams. And while I suffered plenty of injuries, it was the sprained ankle from rugby that was the most conspicuous. “I would’ve done anything to take Harry’s place when you three did that summer mountaineering course.”
“Is that why you come here so often? So you can do rock climbing and stuff?”
“Partly.” I push open the door to the supermarket for her. “But nothing beats being here, seeing how it’s working out. Emailed reports only go so far.”
“Reports?” she echoes as she picks up a basket. “What, you mean you have a personal stake in the company?”
I take the basket from her. “I’m one of the partners.” Funny, for some reason I thought she already knew that. Although, since I hadn’t told her, that doesn’t make any sense. “Another few years, and I’ll be joining them full time.”
She gazes at me in obvious amazement. “Wow. That’s…” She hesitates, as though words fail her. And considering this is Mackenzie, that’s really saying something. Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.
“Unbelievable?” I give her a grin, so she d
oesn’t guess it matters to me what she thinks. At least unbelievable isn’t as bad as irresponsible, which is the word my parents used in connection with my ambitions.
“No. Just surprising. I mean, you’ve always worked in the city. I thought that’s what you wanted.” An odd expression flashes over her face, gone in a second. What’s that about? It was almost as if she understood. “You’re really going to do it?”
“Not yet,” I admit, and it’s like ashes on my tongue. “Soon.”
Her smile is soft, without a hint of the mockery she usually aims my way. Not for the last week, though. Guess I owe Jake Myers one. If not for him, Mac and I would never have gone out for lunch and sorted shit out. And there’s no way I would’ve asked her here or shared my future plans with her.
Or be fighting a losing battle to do the right thing tonight and go sleep in the car.
Chapter Nine
Mackenzie
When we got back from the village, Will showed me the shower block so I could get ready, and I haven’t seen him since.
But his rucksack is still on the sofa bed. Does that mean he plans on sleeping in here tonight? The prospect thrills me far more than it should, considering sleeping isn’t a euphemism for anything more exciting.
Unfortunately.
I did not just think that.
There’s a knock on the door before Will opens it and steps inside.
“You look nice.” His forehead creases, as though the compliment slipped out without him meaning it to, and I grin at him. I don’t remember him ever saying anything like that to me before, and I kind of love it. Although I’m only wearing jeans, I did splash out on a cute top that I picked up for a bargain from the market. But that’s not why his comment sends flutters through me. For some crazy reason, I treated myself to some horrifically expensive lingerie, and it’s soft and silky and deliciously decadent against my skin.
He’s not admiring your knickers, Mac.
Well, duh. Obviously. And he’s not going to see them, either. I didn’t buy them for his benefit, after all.
You spent an arm, leg, and kidney on undies that no one but you will ever see?
Why am I even having this debate? I need new underwear, and I’ve never had such gorgeous stuff before. So what if my unaccustomed extravagance just happened to coincide with this weekend away with him?
One little indulgence isn’t going to break the bank. After all, I’m lucky enough not to be on a shoestring budget like so many of my friends, who have massive debts hanging over their heads. My Uni tuition is paid by bursary from an educational trust of Mum’s former work.
Just one more guilt-laden brick as to why I can’t afford to fail.
No thinking about that tonight.
“So do you.” He looks way more than nice in the short-sleeved shirt that stretches across his impressive shoulders and shows off his gorgeous biceps. Stop drooling, Mac. I ignore my good advice and my gaze drifts over his black jeans, which wrap around his thighs like an indecent embrace.
I gulp and pretend to search for my phone—which is right in front of me on the sofa—so he can’t see my face. Who knew being platonic was such hard work?
“Don’t forget the beer,” I tell him, which is a dumb thing to say but is the only thing I can think of to break the silence that followed my comment.
That followed you checking him out, you mean. He must’ve noticed. I swallow a groan and briefly squeeze my eyes shut. Please don’t call me out on it.
He picks up the beer, and we leave. The lake and woodland beyond look ridiculously romantic in the soft twilight that bathes everything in an ethereal glow. My fingers itch to slide between his. Friends hold hands, don’t they?
Not unless they’re five years old…
I push my thumbs into my jeans pockets, just to be the safe side. Best not to tempt fate. What’d happen if we ended up kissing tonight? There’d be no chance of Dad interrupting us mid-smooch.
What do I even mean by that? We don’t need a chaperone to keep our hands to ourselves.
As we head toward the lodge, the smoky aroma of cooking food wafts on the breeze. There’s a partially enclosed garden next to the building, where a couple of guys are standing by the barbecue. They turn and greet us as we stroll up to them.
“You’ve already met Adam,” Will says as he dumps the beer on a garden bench. “And this one’s Mike.”
Mike grins. “You want a beer?”
“Sure.” I take one as Lucinda joins us and places a large bowl of potato salad on the table before she grabs a bottle of water.
“I’m on duty tonight,” she tells me. “Not that we’ve ever had a nighttime emergency, but if I suddenly shoot off, that’s why.”
“It’s lovely here,” I tell them.
“Yeah, Will found it,” Mike says, as he turns the food on the grill. “Used to be a bring your own tent camping site. Really run down.”
“Who are your clients? Schools?” I glance at Will, who’s standing next to me, and he’s staring at me with an odd smile on his face. As though we’re sharing a secret moment, just the two of us. We’re close enough that one false move and we’ll touch, and if I had any sense I’d move away. But I don’t. Because even though we’re just friends and nothing’s going to happen tonight, I love the flare of heat in his eyes as he catches my gaze.
Then he looks away, and reality stampedes through me. Seriously, what am I thinking? A secret moment? The breathtakingly fiery dusk is clearly messing with my mind.
“Yes, we’ve got a few repeat customers now, which is amazing,” Lucinda says, and it takes me another sip of beer before I remember she’s answering my question. “But we’re always looking to expand. I expect Will’s told you.”
Yeah, not so much. Not that I’m going to admit that, so I just make a noncommittal noise which seems to satisfy her.
The guys serve up the food, and we sit on the benches chatting like we’ve all known each other forever.
“Oh.” Lucinda waves a spare rib at me. “I’ve just got it. You’re Harry Carter’s sister, right?”
“Guilty.” It’s a little funny she picked on Harry. Usually, if people figure out my brother is famous, it’s Lucas they think of.
“I love The Plains of Exitium. I keep telling Will he should bring Harry here for a weekend, so I can fangirl over him.”
“Forget Harry,” Adam says, while I snort into my beer at Lucinda’s dramatics. “Bring Lucas. At least he likes being outdoors.”
Mike grins at me. “We only keep Will because of his connections.”
“It’s true.” Will’s sitting next to me on the bench, and although we’re not touching, I can feel the heat from his body reaching out to me like an intoxicating caress. How strong is this beer? Except it’s not the alcohol, and I know it. “We’d only known each other three years before they discovered I’d grown up with United’s star player.”
“Holding out on us.” Adam tosses Will another beer, but instead of opening it, he places it on the ground. A quick glance confirms he’s only halfway through his first bottle. That’s weird. Whenever we’re out socially, he’s always been one of the biggest drinkers I know.
Is he, though? Really? Uncertainty spins through me as all those endless parties we used to go to with Lucas swirl through my mind. Okay, maybe I misjudged him there. I’m starting to think I don’t know him nearly as well as I’ve always imagined.
It’s not a great feeling.
I nudge his arm. “I need the loo.”
“Inside the lodge, at the back.” He stands, and for one surreal moment, I think he’s going to take me inside himself. And even though I don’t need an escort, I won’t say no because his chivalrous streak is kind of hot. But before my stupid tongue manages to respond, Lucinda breaks the moment by strolling over.
“I’ll take you. The door’s locked.” She swings a key, and we make our way to the lodge where she unlocks the door. “Here you are.” She hands me the key. “Just lock up before you leave.�
�
“Sure thing.”
I find the bathroom without any problem, and my mind drifts back to earlier this afternoon before we went to the village—the first time Lucinda interrupted Will and me. She seems to have a knack for it.
Never mind that. The big question is, what was he about to say to me?
It’s been plaguing me all afternoon, but after she’d left, the moment had passed. And then when we were in the village, it just seemed weird to refer to it.
In any case, he didn’t mention it again, either. But my imagination’s been working overtime.
His words echo through my mind. But not something we should ever repeat.
And my automatic response. Because that would be a disaster.
Was he going to dispute that? Tell me it’ll be fun?
Why can’t I let it go? Do I really believe our relationship could handle that?
Yeah, didn’t think so. I let out an exasperated breath and leave the bathroom.
My gaze catches on loads of framed certificates on the walls. I’d noticed them earlier when we checked in, but only in passing. I go in closer for a better look.
Wow. I’d expected to see Lucinda, Adam, and Mike’s names on the certificates, but Will has just as many as any of them. He’s an accredited mountain leader, certified in cliff rescue and advance white-water safety and rescue. As well as standard First Aid, he’s also qualified in outdoor management incident skills.
Does Lucas know about this secret life of Will’s? I didn’t know anything about it, and although it’s stupid, I can’t help feeling a little hurt.
Forget about our one-night stand. We were friends for a long time before that. Why didn’t I even have a clue?
What else don’t I know about?
“Hey.”
I swing around, as Will strolls across the room toward me. Irrational guilt slides through me, as though he just caught me doing something shifty. But since it’s obvious what I was doing, there’s no point denying it. Not that he’s accusing me of anything.