While reading through the titles of the books in his grandfather’s reading room, Mac’s cell phone buzzed. Holding one book open, he used his free hand to swipe his phone open.
“Hello?”
“Mac, sweetheart, how’s your trip going?” His mother’s voice swept over him like a blanket of love.
“Do you have it on speakerphone, Ruth?” His father’s voice sounded far away, clearly not on speakerphone, and Mac smiled at his parents’ lack of understanding technology.
“Of course it’s on speakerphone,” Ruth shouted at her husband. “Speak to your dad so he can hear you.”
“Hey, Pops,” Mac said, instead of pointing out he wasn’t on speakerphone.
“See?”
“Ruthie, you have the phone to your ear,” David muttered in the background. “Take it away. He’s not on speakerphone. I can’t hear him.”
“Maybe you’re too far away,” Ruth nagged.
“Mom, look at the screen and press the speaker button,” Mac said with a groan. He might as well get comfortable. This routine could and would go on for hours.
There was ruffling on the phone, and he heard his mother mumbling to herself before the sound amplified.
“Okay, now I’m on speakerphone,” Mac told them, lips rounding in a grin. “Good morning, Mom. Dad.”
“Son, tell us about your trip!” David pressed. “We haven’t heard a peep out of you for days.”
“How are you?” Ruth asked.
Mac shook his head. He should have called them earlier. “I’m good, and it’s been a discovery path. Let me tell you.”
And he did. He went into detail about the Hens, from their first meeting to their last, and his parents laughed over their shenanigans. He talked about the Cinnamon Bay love drink and mentioned that Eva was helping him with his grandfather’s house. He even mentioned finding his aunt and how she didn’t believe him at first.
Like all conversations with his parents, Ruth and David listened and gave their opinions, they laughed and asked more questions. They sounded just as excited about his discoveries so far as he was learning about them.
“I'm glad you found some of the answers you were looking for.” His mother’s sincerity struck a chord inside him, and guilt washed over Mac.
She had always been there for him—both his parents had—and they’d maintained his decision to search, stood by him through the process.
Mac looked down at the book in his hand, around the room. He’d never realized how much he wanted answers about his real parents. But now, he knew the desire had always been there and wondered if his parents had known too.
How had that made them feel? He never meant to hurt them in any way or have them feel less than the best thing that had ever happened to him. Without them, he wouldn’t be who he was today.
“When do you plan on coming home?” Ruth asked, tension evident in her voice. “We miss you!”
Way to play the guilt card, Mom. “Soon. Lizzie had some conditions with allowing me into Wayfare house, so I have to finish what I’ve started. Could be a few days or a week. Maybe two.”
“Keep us posted,” Dave insisted.
“I will.”
Mac hung up and sat on one of the wingback chairs, crossing his legs. Immediately his thoughts shifted. Was this the place his grandfather had once sat in times of reflection?
Again, the thought brought on a fresh wallop of guilt. A knock on the office door was a relief.
He looked up and saw Eva leaning against the doorframe. She had a glow about her, and he loved the smile she cast to him.
“Hey, you’re off early today,” Mac said. His gaze ran down her ripped denim jeans and t-shirt stained with what appeared to be dried paint. “It looks like you’re ready to get dirty.” He rubbed his hands together suggestively.
Eva’s mouth dropped open. “What did you have in mind?” she asked, her voice incredulous.
Mac laughed as he stood up. This woman was incredible, and when they weren’t fighting—sometimes even then—she made him feel things he’d never felt before.
“That didn't come out right,” he fumbled, trying to cover his double entendre.
She wiggled her hips. “Or maybe it did.”
He laughed again and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against his front. “This is a nice surprise.” He bent over and kissed her, moving his hands up her back.
Her lips mingled with his for not nearly as long as he'd like before she pulled away to look at him. “I didn’t come alone.”
“Who’s here?”
“I told Kolby about the dead flower beds out front. You know, the ones near the walkway and porch? Well, apparently he told Craig and then next thing I know, Craig’s picking me up with a truck of plants and soil and ready to dig.”
“Ready to dig?” Mac repeated stupidly.
Eva smoothed her hands over his front. “I know planting flowers has nothing to do with you finding out information about your family, so stay here, dig around for a while. No worries. Craig, Kolby, and I will redo the front yard. Back one, too, if the massive amount of plants he brought is any indication.”
Mac blinked. “Kolby’s here too? Who’s watching the café?”
“I have a few part-time workers I bring in on busy days, and today Kolby called them.”
“They do understand I’m not moving in here, right? There’s no need to redo everything.” Lizzie might have a fit if he changed too much without her permission.
He winced at the thought of her swinging arm.
Eva shrugged. “There’s never talking any sense into Kolby once he has an idea, so I’ll be supervising the two of them this afternoon. In the least, it will be good for resale value once your aunt decides to sell.”
Mac slipped his hand around Eva’s and squeezed. “I could use a break from being cooped up indoors.” He lightly pressed a kiss on her lips.
She playfully hit his chest. “There’s none of that out there.”
“Then I guess I better make up for it in here.” He gathered her in his arms and roughly captured her giggle with his lips. Her moan escalated what he'd only intended to be a kiss, and he lifted her onto the library table.
“I think I’ll wear this outfit more often,” she teased, running her hands under his shirt. “And you’re wearing way too many clothes.”
MAC NEEDED AN afternoon of fun in the sun for his peace of mind, and how appropriate to spend it in Cinnamon Bay with Eva and his new friends. But mostly Eva. Keeping his hands off her hand proved to be challenging. Keeping up with Kolby and Craig was also challenging.
Craig’s perfection at positioning the flowers within the newly reworked beds took longer than the actual planting, and Kolby and Eva had volunteered him to assist Craig in floral design. It turned out to be a learning experience for Mac.
Floral design was a lot like graphic design in terms of basic elemental building blocks, and he respected the process, had patience for it. Which made him a better candidate than Eva and Kolby, who would rather fling dirt around than plant.
“There’s no hose!” Kolby called.
“Likely a good thing because I can see a water fight starting up.” Eva stood next to Mac, her arms folded, watching her coworker circle the house.
“All play and no work.” Mac stood. “I’m surprised you two get any work done at the coffee shop.” He moved in to kiss the side of her head but stopped midway. “I’ll see what’s in the shed.”
Mac headed to the extra-large wooden building in the backyard. He wouldn’t be surprised if Craig ended up pulling out the weeds around the edge.
It was a sizeable back yard for property so close to the ocean. With a little maintenance, he could imagine picnics out here in the summertime. Maybe a little swing set in the corner for when kids came along.
Oh boy, he was getting ahead of himself.
He lifted the latch and pulled open the large wood door. He had to blink as he stepped inside, adjusting to the semidar
kness. Once his eyes focused, he couldn't believe what he found.
He walked around the room, touching the magnificent craftsmanship of the sailboat and wondered whose hobby this was. His grandfather’s…or father’s. And as his finger ran over each handcrafted piece, he felt a deeper connection, that one thing in common they shared. He stopped at the workbench and riffled through the dust-covered papers and found a leather binder with his father’s name on it. An immense emotion swallowed him. This was his dad’s, he’d built the boat by hand, and even though he’d never met they man, they shared this one thing. They shared it.
Mac may never have built his own sailboat, but he had constructed a few canoes and kayaks for his own use.
He couldn’t explain how this was different from hearing stories of his personality and wondering if maybe they were connected there. This was absolute.
His phone buzzed, and he reached in his pocket, swiping it open with his dirty fingers. His mom had sent him a picture of his father working on one of his classic cars. His dad. Not by blood, but by every meaning of the word. And yet, they had never shared any of the same hobbies as Mac clearly did with his birth father.
Another round of guilt washed through him, and he turned away from the pages, hightailed it out of the shed, leaving his emotions locked away in the dark. He wasn’t ready to face the fact he and his birth father had something unique in common. With a little more force than needed, Mac shut the door to the shed, turned on his heel and collided with Eva.
“Hey, I was calling you.” She ran her hands over his arms. “Did you find a hose?”
“Nope. Let’s check the garage.” He removed his arms from hers, took her hand in his, and tugged her forward.
“What’s your hurry? Is everything all right?” Eva exclaimed, tripping.
Damn, he was practically dragging her through the yard like a jerk, just to get away from a boat. Or more like a boatload of emotions. He dropped her hand and continued on his way, not wanting to discuss his unexplainable attitude.
“I just remembered I had a project I need to send off to a client. Can you guys finish up outside without me?”
“Absolutely. Are you sure you’re okay?”
They made it to the garage where Mac found a hose hanging on a wall. He passed it off to Eva as he walked toward the house. It seemed he hadn’t locked his emotions away like he’d thought because they were bubbling toward the surface at an alarming rate. His eyes stung, and his vision blurred. He had to get behind closed doors before Eva witnessed his meltdown.
“I’m fine, just busy. I’ll catch up with you later,” Mac grumbled and shut the door.
Not knowing what to do with himself, Mac went into his grandfather’s office, sat with elbows resting on the desk and his face in his hands. He mentally kicked himself for being abrupt with Eva. She deserved much better than that.
God, he could be such as asshat at times. He needed to do something to get his mind off what had just gone down with the boat and with Eva, but he knew he couldn’t concentrate enough to work on a project. Glancing around the room, he spotted the stack of cards he hadn’t finished going through. Maybe if he read through the rest of them, he’d get a better understanding of why his grandfather had let him be adopted.
Once he’d picked up the last stack of cards, he made his way back to the desk and started going through them one by one.
After a couple of hours of reading and still no explanations, Mac was down to the last envelope. Eva and the guys had left just a little while ago without any goodbyes, and it was taking everything in him not to go after her. He owed her the truth, but first, he wanted to look at this last card. Then he planned on finding her and showing her the boat. It was a huge discovery, and Eva was the only person he wanted to share it with.
Using the letter opener he’d found, Mac slid it under the flap on the envelope and pulled out not the expected card, but a handwritten letter.
My Dearest Grandson was all his eyes needed to see to cause his hands to shake and his vision to cloud over.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A S EVA PACKED a picnic basket for their dinner, humming under her breath, she couldn’t help but ponder Mac’s reticent to talk earlier today which had her stomach in knots right at the moment.
She’d watched the playful interactions between the three men as they’d worked in the yard and knew Mac had been having a great time even though it was backbreaking labor. Her aching shoulders attested to it!
Picking up the knife laying next to her on the kitchen island, Eva sliced the chicken salad sandwiches in half and placed them in the basket while her mind twirled with ideas on how to get Mac to open up and tell her what was really going on.
Going over to the refrigerator, Eva grabbed the block of sharp cheddar cheese and the bag of grapes, thinking maybe she could seduce him into talking. Great sex should get anyone talking, right?
Jeez! What the hell was wrong with her?
She didn’t seduce men. Well, at least not when she had ulterior motives beyond having fun.
She snatched up the grapes and walked over to the sink where she’d left the strainer and tossed them in it. Shoving it under the cold water in disgust of herself and her dumb idea, Eva began to wonder if maybe Mac was already done with their relationship and contemplating walking away from her like her father and Sean had done.
The constant barrage of what-ifs brought her mood down into the negatives, enough emotions to pull her under like the undertow of the ocean.
As she continued to slice the cheese, her breathing sped up, and she broke out in a cold sweat. Anxiety. Worry. A nameless dread. It was as if the current had pulled her under and she was drowning in doubt and fear. Her arms started to tingle, and the feeling spread throughout her body, making her numb to any physical discomfort except for having a hard time getting a deep breath.
Slice, suck in air, slice, try breathing again.
She was lost in her world of despair until the nick of the blade caught her finger. Eva glanced down to see the crimson flow stain the golden slivers of cheddar, the dark red stream of doom overpowering the color of sunshine and happiness. Just like the pain from Mac leaving would wipe out any light and hope she had in her life.
“Eva!” a voice in the distance called out. “My God, you’re bleeding all over the place.”
Mac took hold of her hands and walked her over to the sink where he turned on the water and stuck her bleeding finger under the faucet. “Towels? Where are your dish towels?”
Without taking her eyes off the mesmerizing mixture of blood and water running down the drain, Eva murmured, “They’re in the drawer in front of you.”
Mac grabbed a towel, wet it, and wrapped it around her finger then helped her over to the table and chairs where he made her sit. One large hand held pressure on her finger as his other pushed the hair back from her forehead. “Are you all right?” He looked at her with concern as he scanned her face before dropping down to check her wrapped finger. “The bleeding has almost stopped, so I don’t think you need stitches. Sit here while I clean up the mess. Don’t move.”
Mac stood, leaned over, and placed a soft, lingering kiss to the top of her head. It was enough to bring her out of her daze. Eva blinked, shaking off her fog. “What are you doing here? Earlier you said you were tired and wanted to go home and rest.”
“Well,” he said as he used paper towel to swipe the bloody mess into the trash can. “I wanted to come over and ask you to dinner since I was kind of short with you earlier. Good thing I did, too, since you decided to maim yourself.”
A sardonic “pfft” escaped Eva. “As you can see, I was trying to make us a cold picnic dinner until I got distracted. Not the brightest thing to do when you have a sharp knife in your hand. Anyway, you said you were exhausted, and it had been ungodly hot out today, so I thought you might like a summertime meal. Cold, no mess to clean up and relaxing. It just didn’t turn out the way I’d planned.”
Tilting his head towar
d the picnic basket, Mac scrunched his face. “Is there anything in there to eat that isn’t covered in your blood?”
Deciding to go for straight forward honesty despite her fear, Eva bit her lower lip then took a deep breath. “Are you really tired, or are you tired of our current relationship. You know, the friends with benefits thing?”
A strong, masculine hand, tanned and dusted lightly with hair, gripped the back of his neck and rubbed. “I’m exhausted,” he admitted. “Not physically, and most definitely not tired of us. But tired of feeling guilty about being here.”
Relief at Mac’s words washed over her like a tidal wave, wiping out the doubts she’d had about him walking away but leaving Eva with a cold splash of reality. Damn, it only proved that she was starting to feel more for him than just friendship, and if she let herself wade out into deeper waters, she’d get swept away for good. Her heart would be his, and it was a fact that he’d be leaving. He’d been upfront about it from the beginning.
Even with this epiphany, she couldn’t stop herself from taking the slight step past knee-deep water and engaging him in a more personal conversation. There was just something about Mac that drew her in regardless of any reservations she might have.
“Did something happen today while we were all working in the yard to cause you to feel this way?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you willing to share?”
An array of emotions crossed Mac’s face as he stood at her kitchen island, hands flat on the counter while staring off into space. Then like a switch being flipped, he smiled, turned his head her way and peered at her with smoldering eyes.
Eva watched in anticipation as he picked up the picnic basket and walked over to the table where she still sat. “Can we take this back to Wayfare house? I have a couple of things I want to show you.”
This man. His gaze. His voice. His scent. He had her heart fluttering and belly somersaulting, and Eva knew without a doubt, she could never deny him a thing.
She nodded, tightening her hold on the towel wrapped around her finger. “Sure.”
Love on the Boardwalk (A Cinnamon Bay Romance Book 1) Page 11
