by Amy Knupp
He shook himself out of that right quick, and then finally she pulled her attention from her bag and looked up. It was as if someone had zapped him with a Taser as a strange combination of familiarity and shock hit him. Familiarity because that smile and the spark in her eyes were his friend’s little sister through and through and took him back to when he was a teenager and she was a busybody brat he’d affectionately called Shawlet. Shock because…damn. Mackenzie Shaw had grown up spectacularly. The picture Ez had sent did not do her justice.
“Drake,” she said in a melodic voice that was fuller than the teenage version he remembered, “you’re here.”
The surprise in her tone gave away a hint of vulnerability, as if she hadn’t believed he’d make it, and that waver of insecurity took him back to the time when he and Ezra had been determined to protect her from an eighth-grade putz who’d broken her naive seventh-grade heart. He and Ez had been old enough to drive, and they’d picked her up at the middle school for a week straight just to intimidate the little prick who’d kissed her after a basketball game and then ghosted her. Their intimidation had been limited to big-brother don’t-fuck-with-my-sister stares, as they’d had the advantage in size, brains, and muscles and it wouldn’t have been a fair fight.
Without thought, he stepped forward, wrapped her in a brief hug, and kissed the top of her head. “It sounds like you didn’t think I’d show.”
“Ez said you might be late.” She beamed up at him and his nostalgia was shoved aside by a surge of desire. “Thanks for picking me up.”
“Welcome back,” he said, more than a little rattled by his reaction to her.
Mackenzie inhaled deeply, causing her chest to rise, sexy collarbone, intriguing breasts, and all. “It feels good to be back,” she said as her gaze roved over him. “Really good.”
Hell. He needed a moment. Or a kick in the ass, which Ez would readily provide if he knew the thoughts firing through Drake’s head.
The thought of Ezra was enough to bring him to his senses. “Let’s put your brother’s mind at ease,” Drake said, pulling his phone back out and sidling up next to Mackenzie for a selfie. “Smile pretty. He’s got his tighty-whiteys in a bunch, thinking I’ll let you down.”
“It’s always fun to prove my brother wrong.”
Drake clicked, and without inspecting the photo much, he reopened the app they used to text internationally and sent it on its way. Ignoring, the whole while, the hint of Mackenzie’s feminine floral scent that affected him on an elemental level.
Mackenzie had done her homework.
Well, as well as she could. It wasn’t easy to get the lowdown on a guy who didn’t do much on social media. He had accounts—she’d found Drake on three different platforms—but he didn’t post. The content on his accounts consisted mostly of photos he was tagged in by other people. Females. Always females. Pretty, happy females draping themselves all over the youngest North brother.
Mackenzie couldn’t blame them.
Drake was drape-worthy. He always had been.
He reached over and took the handle of the rolling bag from her and pulled it behind him. “Do you have another bag?” he asked as they walked in the general direction of the baggage claim area.
She laughed. “I had to check three.” And paid for extra weight on two of them. Still the cheapest way to get the things she needed most immediately to Nashville.
“It might be tough to fit those on my bike.”
Mackenzie halted in her tracks and peered over at him, narrowing her eyes, assessing if he could possibly be serious.
On the one hand, the thought of this mouthwatering man on a motorcycle—she assumed he wasn’t talking about a Schwinn—was all kinds of distracting. On the other, surely he couldn’t be that dense, could he?
No. The Drake she remembered was not stupid.
“You’re bullshitting,” she said as she resumed their path toward the escalator.
With an irresistible boyish grin, he said, “Got me. I switched it out for the Jeep just for you.”
Between those arresting sky-blue eyes with their spark of mischief, the just-right amount of toffee-brown scruff on his jaw, and that sexy tone in his voice that made the words sound more intimate than they were, it was evident he still oozed charm the way most guys oozed sweat during a pickup game of basketball on a ninety-degree afternoon.
She could fully, privately admit to a raging crush on him back in the day, when—she could acknowledge it now—she was too young for him. Drake North had plunged her right into puberty, though he hadn’t been aware of his role in her immature fantasies. Thank God.
She hadn’t seen him in person for close to ten years, when he’d gone off to college. She’d thought of him on and off throughout the years, had heard vague reports of him from Ezra, and yes, had checked out his social media, but one thing she’d not been doing was pining away. She’d been living life full tilt in Los Angeles, first dipping her toes into college and then building a career she loved, meeting scores of people for both business and fun, and trying to find her place in life, like the seven billion other people on the planet.
Her life in California had not sucked, not at all, but at the age of twenty-five, she’d moved or been uprooted more times than she could count on both hands, maybe feet too. While the first eighteen years of it were solely on her mom, a chronic job hopper and sometimes man hopper as well, the trend of never staying long at one address had continued due to a combo of situations out of Mackenzie’s control and a couple of poor decisions. The cost of living out West was a challenge and made buying a home impossible, but that’s what she wanted more than anything—a place of her own. A permanent place of her own. If she never had to buy packing tape and boxes again in her life, she would be ecstatic.
Though the move back to Nashville had come up suddenly, it was key to her long-term plan. Living in this city she loved would enable her to put down roots. She had a down payment for a home saved, one that would buy her something decent in this part of the country, and once she got her bearings and laid the foundation for the new Nashville office of To the Stars, house hunting was her priority. If things went as planned, she’d be cozied up in her very own home in less than six months.
Her phone dinged from the depths of her travel bag, signaling a text, and she assumed it was Cora, her boss and friend, finally responding to Mackenzie’s I made it text, which she’d sent as they taxied in. Now that Drake had her carry-on, it was easier to handle the oversized bag that enabled her to throw in pretty much everything except the kitchen sink—and liquids over three ounces.
The message had a local number but no name. She unlocked her phone as they got on the escalator and read the text.
This is Nadine from Hillside Haven Apartments. I realize you might already be on your way here, so I wanted to give you a heads-up. There’s a problem with your apartment and I’m still assessing the extent. We can discuss details and a plan of action when you get here, but I wanted to warn you because it’s a little bit shocking. We’re working to remedy things at this moment. See you soon.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mackenzie said out loud, her stomach dipping. Then she scrolled up and read the message a second time before they reached the bottom of the escalator. She missed the end of the escalator, her head buried in her phone, and stumbled slightly, then righted herself. She stepped to the side and stopped. Read the text for a third time, her shoulders drooping.
“Problem?” Drake asked. He’d been behind her on the escalator and paused at her side now as he sized up the row of baggage carousels.
“There’s an issue with my apartment.” The apartment with the short-term lease that was crucial for her plans to work out.
“What kind of an issue?” he asked, turning his focus to her.
Mackenzie held out her phone so he could read it himself, absently glancing toward the carousels and not really seeing them. She was fighting off a host of negative thoughts, reminding herself that, as fast
as she’d put all the pieces of this move into place, there were bound to be some hiccups. She would work through them.
“Let’s get your bags and then we can go check it out,” he said.
She let Drake figure out which carousel while she followed, typing to Nadine, asking her for more information.
By the time they had all of her suitcases lined up in front of them and Drake had ribbed her for packing like a girl, there was still no response from Nadine.
“I guess we’ll go see for ourselves,” Drake said. He threw a quick arm around her from the side and squeezed her opposite upper arm, tugging her into him briefly.
As uneasy as she was about her apartment, all of that took a backseat as she caught the masculine scent of him, momentarily felt the heat of his solid, delectable body pressing up against her side, and thought for an instant about letting herself lean into him. Then she put a hard brake on her reaction, because that had been more of a big-brother move than a man-woman move, and she needed to keep it big-brother in her mind. The same as it always had been between her and Drake.
For the first time in her life, she had a plan to get it together, make it what she wanted and needed, and mooning over an unavailable guy, regardless of how tempting he was, was not the way to make it happen.
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Acknowledgments
As always, though writing is a solitary pursuit, I couldn’t do it without help.
Thanks to Suzanne Cox for her medical expertise and plotting help. It takes a special kind of person who knows all the hospital/medical things and can use that knowledge to help me come up with a feasible situation for my story. Suzanne is that special person, and I feel lucky to call her a friend as well.
Thanks to Jasminka Vujic for sharing her knowledge on the Nashville area and for her patience in answering my numerous bizarre character questions—as well as for being a dear friend for two decades.
Thanks to my beta readers, who offered their precious time and enthusiasm to help me fine-tune my story and improve my story-telling. Their suggestions and encouragement give me courage at that moment when I need it most, and my betas are the best!
Thanks, as always, to my family, for their love, support, and understanding that, yes, I really am working as I sit in my comfy “nest” chair with the special color-changing string of star lights twinkling around me. And to Justin, for his extra patience and his plot-whispering ways. Love you always, even if you one day decide you can’t listen to one more story ramble. :)
Also by Amy Knupp
North Brothers Series
True North
True Colors
True Blue (late 2020)
Hale Street Series:
Sweet Spot
Soft Spot
One and Only
Last First Kiss
Heartstrings
Island Fire Series:
Playing with Fire
Heat of the Night
Fully Involved
Firestorm
Afterburn
Up in Flames
Flash Point
Fire Within
Impulse
Slow Burn
About the Author
Amy Knupp is an author of contemporary romance and a copy editor for Blue Otter Editing. She loves words and grammar and meaty, engrossing stories with complex characters.
Amy lives in Wisconsin with her husband, two teenage sons, four cats, and two box turtles. She graduated from the University of Kansas with degrees in French and journalism. In her spare time, she enjoys traveling, breaking up cat fights, watching college hoops, and annoying her family by correcting their grammar.
For more information:
www.amyknupp.com
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Copyright © 2019 by Amy Knupp
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
