Mac (HC Heroes Series, #1)

by Donna Michaels

  Her gaze shimmered again, and after turning her back to Mr. Nakamori, she muttered, “Asshole,” to him on her way out of the room.

  Mr. Nakamori wouldn’t appreciate Mac allowing someone to disrespect him. The man was old school Japanese and wouldn’t want to do business with someone like that. Whatever she wanted to say could wait until he returned to the apartment. He had to try to save face and do damage control...now.

  Several excuses flew through his mind as he tried to figure out what the hell he could say that would explain to Mr. Nakamori what he would’ve seen as ill-mannered behavior.

  Mac was wracking his brain when Dex’s voice sounded through his earwig. “Not sure what’s going on up there, Mac, but Stefanie insisted I talk to you.”

  Son-of-a...

  That woman had bigger balls than any D-Force soldier he knew.

  Before he could activate his mic and respond, Dex continued, “She said daughter number two hurt her head. Make sure you tell her parents.”

  What kind of game was Stefanie playing now?

  He studied the young girl who was back to drawing with her sister, smiling and humming a tune...while Mr. Nakamori stared at him.

  Great.

  The man was starting to question his decision. Mac could feel it.

  But, if the little girl really had hurt herself, they needed to know. Of course, he wasn’t in a position to come out and ask her, so he had to go through her father.

  With a sinking feeling in his stomach, and that proverbial brass ring he’d thought he’d achieved moving further and further from his grasp, Mac told Mr. Nakamori his daughter might’ve hurt her head.

  As he said this, both girls stopped drawing and nodded, then the older daughter went on to explain how her sister had tripped and fell into the coffee table and hit her head. But they knew they weren’t to disturb him when he was in the office, and with their mother gone, she ran to the pretty lady in the foyer and dragged her over to her sister.

  Mac’s heart stopped for a beat, then rocked against his ribs.

  It hadn’t been a brash move. Stefanie hadn’t been disrespectful. The daughter had pulled her in.

  Shit.

  The memory of her face paling in front of him, disappointment and unshed tears gleaming in her eyes, flashed through Mac’s head.

  He was an idiot.

  The younger daughter showed her father where it hurt, and the older one fished a bag of frozen peas out from under the coffee table no one had seen.

  Mr. Nakamori turned to Mac and asked if he could have Stefanie return to the penthouse, understanding replacing the doubt in his gaze.

  “Dex,” he said into his mic. “Can you send Stefanie back up here?”

  “Ah...I’ll see if I can catch her,” came the reply.

  Catch her?

  Mac’s stomach dropped to his knees. Was she leaving? Damn. He couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let her go until he apologized for being an ass.

  “Caught her,” Dex said. “She’s on her way up.”

  Relief cleared the tightness from his chest and breathing became much easier. He told Mr. Nakamori she was on her way, and when it appeared the man required nothing else, Mac returned to his post in the foyer.

  As he waited for her arrival, he tried to figure out where he’d gone wrong. He’d held his derision in check. That was easy. He’d doubted her. But why? What had made him do it?

  He wasn’t sure, other than the fact he knew it had nothing to do with her. Stefanie hadn’t done anything wrong. The fault lay with him.

  The timing of that realization coincided with the dinging of the elevator, and a second later, she walked out.

  “I’m here. Why?” she asked quietly. Her face wasn’t as pale, but her gaze had definitely lost its warmth.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, but didn’t have a chance to say anything more because the little girls spotted her and came over.

  She smiled down at them, and her eyes held the warmth he admittedly missed. The young sisters pulled her into the penthouse to their father, and Mac watched as she talked to Mr. Nakamori. He couldn’t hear the conversation, and he wasn’t trying to, but he could tell it was in English. Every once in a while, the sound of her laughter would trickle into the foyer, and it eased some of the tightness from his chest.

  But it returned an hour later when she walked past him and headed straight for the elevator without saying a word.

  He didn’t blame her. Why would she want to talk to him? Especially after the way he’d treated her.

  “Stefanie, hang on,” he said, walking to where she stood waiting for the elevator doors to open.

  “Why? So, you can tell me to go again?”

  Okay, he deserved that. “I’m sorry, Stef. I was an ass,” he said, and intended to say more, but she held up a hand.

  “Look, forget it. I have to go, anyway. My ride is here,” she stated, stepping into the elevator.

  Ride? What ride? The elevator?

  He slapped a hand on the doorframe to keep the doors from closing. “What do you mean?”

  “Mel’s waiting for me downstairs,” she replied, with a lift of her chin.

  Ah, hell. His gut clenched. She’d had her friend drive all the way up from Harland County to get her?

  “I’ve gathered enough information to get started on your logo. I’ll be in touch.”

  An invisible band tightened around his chest. Something had just happened...and not a good something.

  She leaned toward the panel, jabbed at a button, and the bell dinged.

  Although he wanted to clear the air better, he had no choice but to remove his hand from the frame so the dinging sound would stop.

  As the doors slowly closed, he couldn’t help but feel it wasn’t just to the elevator.

  Somehow...someway, when he got back to Harland County, he was going to make this up to her.

  ***

  Late Friday afternoon, Stefanie was in the front of her shop, behind the counter that faced the door, powering down her fiscal department. At least, that’s what she called the area where she took orders and kept track of billing and invoices. She did her artistic tasks in the back, or at home. That was definitely more her thing. Once work was steadier, she planned to hire someone to take over this side of the business. She preferred creative thinking, but for now, it all fell on her.

  The front corner of her shop was set up with a station for do-it-yourselfers. Walk-ins could use that computer to choose pre-designed templets to create paper promo items like business cards, postcards, invitations, brochures, pamphlets, rack cards, even posters and banners, but they needed to be sent out. Her equipment wasn’t set up to handle the larger items. Yet. In the room that separated the front from the back was her production department, where smaller items were printed. All in all, it was a good setup, and she was proud of Graphic Images.

  As the hum from the computer and printer in fiscal ceased, she headed to the walk-in station to power down, smiling at her cat reclining in the chair behind the desk. “Thanks for keeping watch,” she said, petting his head.

  She was waiting for the delivery of the banner Mr. McCall had requested last minute for his wife’s birthday party on Sunday. She didn’t mind rush orders, especially this one. The timing had been perfect. It came in right after she’d gotten back from Houston on Wednesday. The project kept her mind off the Mac fiasco.

  Mostly.

  She pressed her fingers to her temple and rubbed. A dull throbbing had persisted since her return. She wasn’t coming down with a cold. No, it was from stupidity. Hers. She should’ve known better than to think Mac was different. He was an alpha. It was in his nature to be stubborn. It was also in his nature to jump to conclusions and not give her a chance to explain.

  Like you cutting him off in the elevator...

  She sighed. She hated it when her inner voice was right.

  After some cooling off time, she’d thought about the whole incident and realized she could’ve handled it bett
er, too. It had no doubt appeared as if she’d left the foyer and invited herself in and that put him in a bad position with Mr. Nakamori.

  Certainly, that was not her intention. She’d just wanted to help the little girl. This didn’t excuse his behavior—Mac was still a jackass—but she understood the possible problem she’d caused.

  But, considering he’d just returned an hour ago, which she knew from catching a glimpse of their SUVs rolling up in the alley, she was confident everything had worked out.

  Her front door opened, and she turned, expecting to see the delivery guy, but found her friend instead.

  “Just finished up my last client.” Mel walked in wearing a black T-shirt with cats in spacesuits on it that tugged a grin to Stefanie’s lips. “Pizza and Netflix tonight. Right?” she asked, heading over to pet Reggie.

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “But I’m buying.”

  Not only had Mel closed up her tattoo shop and fetched her from Houston this week, her friend had also cat-sat Reggie the day and a half Stefanie had been away.

  “Sweet! I’ve got the margaritas covered, and Abby’s taking care of dessert.” Mel cocked her head. “What time do you want us over? In about an hour?”

  Stefanie nodded. “I’m waiting for a delivery, then I’ll be home.”

  “All right. See you then,” Mel said on her way out.

  Surely, the banner would arrive by then. She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall that separated the front of her shop from the production department and frowned. According to her tracking email, the latest the banner should’ve arrived was twenty minutes ago.

  As much as she wished the time on the clock was wrong, she knew that wasn’t the case. It was brand new. Her sister had given her the palette-shaped clock with art brushes for hands as a Grand Opening gift last month.

  Sighing, she pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and was scrolling through her inbox for the email when the front door opened again. It’s here, she thought to herself, until awareness skittered down her spine. Stefanie stilled. She knew without turning around it wasn’t the delivery man.

  “Hello, Stefanie.”

  Her pulse leapt, despite the fact she was still mad at the jerk. Ordering her body to cool it, she shoved her phone back in her pocket and turned around. The slight furrow of his brow and tight muscles cording his neck told her he was a man with a purpose.

  Needing some type of defense against that, because...heaven help her, that was hot-as-hell, she lifted her chin. “Hello, Mac.”

  Chapter Five

  He stood just inside her door, looking just as sexy in jeans and a white tank top as he had in a suit. Maybe even more so...dammit. Bronze skin, muscles, and a well-defined chest clearly visible beneath his shirt made her warm all over, then she remembered how he’d ordered her out of the penthouse on Tuesday, and her temperature returned to normal.

  “This was delivered next door by mistake.” He stepped closer and handed her a package she hadn’t realized he was holding.

  The banner.

  Relief whispered through her on a sigh. “Thanks. It’s for your aunt’s party. I was just about to call the shippers to find out what had happened to it.”

  “They probably mistook the eight on the label for a six.” He shrugged.

  True. The last digit of their business addresses only differed by those numbers. She nodded, opening the box to check the banner, pleased to find it perfect. After repacking it, she set the box on the counter before turning toward him. “Well...thanks for bringing this by.” She didn’t want to engage in conversation. Best to dial things back to when they were more acquaintances than friends. Her brain didn’t work to full capacity when he was around. “I need to lock up. I’m meeting the girls for pizza so—”

  “I’m sorry about Tuesday,” he said, cutting her off, laying a hand on his breastbone. “Truly sorry.”

  “Forget it.” She also didn’t want to dredge up the hurt and disappointment when she’d barely gotten past it.

  He shook his head. “I can’t do that. I was an ass and treated you badly. I really am sorry, Stefanie. You didn’t deserve that.”

  Well, hell. His words and the earnest expression on his face, coupled with the fact he’d just apologized three times, had her pulse leaping again.

  Craig had been good with words, her mind reminded. That could be Mac’s ploy, too.

  Her heart immediately rejected that thought but her damn heart had gotten her in trouble before, so they weren’t on listening terms right now.

  “I had a lot riding on the job,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “If Mr. Nakamori was satisfied with Eagle Security, he was supposed to use us whenever he was in Texas, plus hook us up with a few other Japanese companies, which meant I could hire more of my military buddies.”

  Her heart lurched. “I didn’t ruin that, did I?” She set a hand on her chest in an attempt to quell the thudding.

  “No.” He shook his head. “You didn’t. He was pleased with everything and grateful for your kindness to his daughters.”

  She blew out a breath. “Thank God.”

  The thought of possibly jeopardizing his business was bad enough, but jobs for his veteran friends too? That made her nauseous.

  “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel bad,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Or to excuse my behavior, because it doesn’t. I just wanted you to understand my focus was on my job and duties, and not on human decency.” He scowled and his lips twisted into a tight, white line. “And unfortunately, you bore the brunt of my—”

  “Jackassness?”

  His lips twitched and amusement lifted his brow. “Is that a word?”

  “It is now,” she replied with a tilt of her head.

  He nodded. “My jackassness. You need to know you didn’t do anything wrong. I was at fault. It was all on me.”

  Not true. She shook her head, unwilling to let him take all the blame—most of it—but not all. “I wasn’t exactly receptive in the elevator. Neither one of us listened to the other.”

  And she wasn’t proud that she’d turned tail and ran. Her dad had taught her better than that. Don’t run from problems. Face them. She was oh for two.

  “You had every right to be upset with me, Stefanie, but I hope this will make up for it a little.” He removed a business card from his pocket and held it out to her.

  Frowning, she took the card. “What is this?”

  “It’s Mr. Nakamori’s contact information. I told him about your work and that you were helping me come up with a brand.”

  Her pulse kicked up. “You did?”

  “Yes, and he wants you to call him on Monday. He said he has a few projects he’d like you to work on for him, and if that went well, he would recommend you to a few associates.”

  Oh. My. God.

  Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

  “Very,” he said, his gaze earnest again. “I think you can tell he spoke English pretty well, so you shouldn’t have any trouble, but if you need help interpreting any of his associates, let me know.”

  Warmth funneled into her chest so fast she rocked where she stood. “Thank you, Mac.” No one had ever done anything even remotely close to this for her. Her instinct was to throw herself at him and hug him tight, but that would cross the acquaintance line, so she just smiled at him.

  “You’re welcome.” He cocked his head, amusement flickering in his gaze. “I hope this makes up for my jackassness a little.”

  She held up her hand and pressed her forefinger to her thumb. “A little.” She snickered. “Just kidding. I’m really grateful. Thank you, again.”

  “Remember that when you have to stay up late to call him.” He smirked. “Tokyo is fifteen hours ahead.”

  She winced. “Ouch.”

  “I brought another peace offering.” He reached behind and appeared to pull something from his back pocket. “Although, it’s not for you,” he added, holding up a...soft toy mouse? “Can Reggie have catnip? I wa
sn’t sure if it caused him any issues.”

  “You got Reggie a toy?” Her pulse hiccupped.

  He nodded. “Is that okay?”

  Was that okay?

  Dammit. The man didn’t fight fair.

  Her chest squeezed tight. “Yes. You can give it to him. He’s on the chair over there.” She pointed to the work station, needing a moment to blink the burning from her eyes. No guy had ever bought a toy for her cat. Not even Craig.

  It was doubtful if Reggie would’ve cared, though. He hated Craig. Used to hiss at him all the time, and sometimes, he even peed on the clothes the jerk left on the floor. Animals were good judges of character. She should’ve seen that sign. But she was too blind and stupid.

  Never again.

  She watched Mac squat down in front of the chair and gently scratch Reggie under the chin, before he set the mouse in front of him. Her cat immediately purred and rubbed his face on the mouse several times, before holding it between his paws to lick it.

  “You might want to ration yourself there, buddy.” Mac’s deep chuckle echoed through her shop and sent a round of shivers down her body. “Okay, do it your way, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He stood and met her gaze, his darkening with hunger and regret.

  The combination was heady, and she felt herself weakening. Damn man had already softened her up. He’d scored her a major client and a toy for her cat.

  Clever? Or sweet?

  He was one, or both. She didn’t know. The warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest was now overtaking her brain, and she considered closing the distance between them as they stared at each other.

  Her body hummed with awareness and cheered, eager for a repeat of the kiss they’d shared in Houston. But acquaintances didn’t do those things, her mind reminded, having just enough brainpower to toss that out. The closer he got, the stronger her pulse pounded, and her mind and body battled to control her next move.

  He stopped a foot away, his head angled downward while his gaze looked up at her. “Are we good?”

  “Yes,” she answered truthfully. They’d both made mistakes and apologized, so it was time to move on.