by Melody Grace
She turned and buried her face in a cushion, and let out a frustrated scream.
Why was he pushing her away? One minute he was the one kissing her like it was all he wanted in the world, the next, she couldn’t see him for dust.
But who in their right mind would walk away from a kiss like that?
Mackenzie sank back and groaned. She couldn’t deny it, no matter how hard she tried.
She wanted him.
It had always been Jake, but things were different now. Maybe she should take the slamming door as a hint, but she’d made herself a promise, and she was going to stand by it. She wasn’t going to swallow back her feelings and let them turn to misery, pine after him like she had done when she was seventeen and too scared to take a leap. Whatever the risk of going after what she wanted, it couldn’t be worse than keeping it all bottled up inside and bending over backwards to hide the truth, boxing her feelings into tiny spaces until they turned to dust.
She was going to do this. Make her move.
The question was . . . how?
11
Mackenzie deliberated for the rest of the weekend, which meant cleaning every square inch of the cottage and ticking half a dozen items from the Starbright schedule like a woman possessed with denial and productivity. Finally, when there was nothing else to distract her, she admitted defeat. She needed advice, the kind that wouldn’t pull any punches in figuring out Jake’s hot and cold routine.
“I need a man.” Mackenzie threw herself onto a stool at the pub and fixed Riley with a plaintive stare across the bar.
“Want your gutters cleaned out again?” he teased. “No pun intended.”
“Very funny.” Mackenzie smiled. “And no. I can clean my gutters just fine alone. I need advice this time, from someone on the other side of . . . things.”
Riley arched an eyebrow, looking interested now. Mackenzie knew she never talked about her love life—not that there was one to talk about—and clearly, he wasn’t about to let this go lightly. “So, you finally accept my superior knowledge when it comes to matters of the heart?” Riley puffed out his chest. “I knew this day would dawn, and you’d come begging—”
“I’m not begging.”
“—for me to solve all your problems.” Riley grinned. “Go on then, child, tell me your woes.”
Mackenzie shook her head, but it was hard not to smile when Riley was hamming it up like this. And the bowl of fries he nudged across the bar didn’t hurt either.
“It’s Jake,” she finally admitted, feeling her cheeks flush.
“Well, of course it’s Jake.” Riley gave her an exasperated smile. “Everyone for fifty miles knows it’s Jake. The question only was if you knew.”
Mackenzie decided not to take offense. “Oh, I know,” she told him. “I wish I didn’t, believe me. But know that I do know, there’s no way to un-know it! And he doesn’t seem to know at all.”
Riley shook his head. “OK, you lost me there. Plain English?”
Mackenzie swallowed. “I can’t figure him out,” she said at last. “He kisses me, and then pretends like it never happened. I kiss him, and he pretends like it never happened. He acts like we’re just friends, but something tells me that friends don’t make out like this!”
“Sadly, no,” Riley said. She mournfully ate another fry, and her inner turmoil must have shown, because he finally put down his drink and looked serious. “So what do you want from him?”
“Lead with the easy questions, why don’t you?” Mackenzie sighed.
Riley chuckled. “I’m sorry. I just mean it’ll be easier to figure out how to get what you want from him if you actually know what it is you want.”
“That’s annoyingly sensible.” She frowned. “Since when are you Mr. Rational?”
“Don’t you know I’ve turned over a new leaf?” Riley grinned. “All it took was the love of a good woman. And old age.”
Mackenzie laughed. “Somehow, I don’t think so. Didn’t I hear something about you skinny-dipping in the Chesapeake Bay?”
“Don’t change the subject on me.” Riley grinned. “It’s your life we’re trying to fix here.”
“Mac needs fixing?”
She turned to find Cooper leaning against the bar, looking interested.
“She’s dealing with affairs of the heart,” Riley explained. “Obviously, she came straight to me.”
“Something I already regret,” Mackenzie grumbled, trying to hide her embarrassment. At this rate, half of Sweetbriar would know her emotional state before dinner.
“Ah.” Cooper nodded. “So Jake hasn’t got his act together yet?”
Mackenzie whimpered and slumped over, burying her face in her arms like she was in school all over again. “Does everybody know?”
She heard Cooper chuckle. “Just the people with eyes,” he said, and gave her a comforting pat. “So what’s the story?”
“He’s pulling that whole ‘just friends’ routine,” she heard Riley explain over her head. “Giving Mac mixed messages.”
“Ouch,” Cooper replied. “So what does she want to do?”
“So far, sit around and eat fries,” Riley said, sounding amused.
Mackenzie lifted her head. “This isn’t funny!” she protested, even as a smile tugged at her lips. “I don’t know what to do! I told myself I wouldn’t fall for him again, but here I am, ten years older and not one bit wiser.”
“Again?” Cooper studied her, and then his face changed. “High school, huh? I always figured you guys were just friends.”
“So did everyone. Including him.” Mackenzie stole a swallow of his beer.
“Wait, was he the one from prom night?” Cooper asked suddenly. Riley perked up.
“The infamous town square incident?”
Mackenzie cleared her throat. “Nope, and you know I’m taking that one to my grave. So, come on, what should I do?”
“Have you tried seducing him?” Riley asked.
Mackenzie snorted. That plan had worked so well last time around.
“I’m serious,” he insisted. “Take all your clothes off, see what he does. Boom, you’ll have your answer.”
“And if the answer is ‘Sorry, Mac, I just don’t feel that way about you,’ then I’ll be standing naked waiting for the ground to swallow me up,” she pointed out, cringing at the thought. It had been bad enough watching him bolt from her cottage the other night; imagine if she’d been semi-dressed at the time.
Mackenzie shook her head. Talk about high school all over again. Throw in a cheap corsage and some slow jams, and she was right back at prom.
“Sorry.” Cooper looked apologetic. “But sometimes the only way to get a straight answer is to ask a straight question.”
“You guys are no use at all,” Mackenzie informed them, frustrated.
Riley laughed. “Come on, men are simple creatures, at least where women are concerned. Sometimes you just need to make it blindingly obvious before we get the hint. Have you even told him how you feel?”
She paused. “Not in so many words. But it’s obvious by now,” she added quickly. “I’ve practically thrown myself at him, more than once. He has to know!”
Riley and Cooper looked dubious.
“Doesn’t he?” Mackenzie paused, thinking back over the past few weeks. And all the effort she’d put into casually acting like she couldn’t care less. “Oh God,” she breathed, the truth dawning. “Maybe he really doesn’t know.”
“So, give the guy a break,” Riley suggested. “Ask him out, flirt, be obvious.”
“Obvious,” Mackenzie repeated, taking another gulp of Cooper’s beer. “I can do that.”
Before she could chicken out, she pulled out her phone.
Want to grab lunch tomorrow? she texted, and hit send.
Riley reached over and took her phone. “Grab?” he quoted. “That’s still friend-talk.”
“What do you want me to say?” Mackenzie countered. “Come over right now and rock me all night long?”
/>
“Works for me,” Riley grinned. “Coop?”
“Yeah, that’d get the message across.”
Mackenzie shook her head. Her phone buzzed.
Sure, call me whenever.
It wasn’t exactly a heartfelt declaration of love, but it was a start. “Obvious,” she repeated, feeling her stomach start to tangle with nerves. “Flirting. I can do that.”
“ ’Atta girl,” Riley said. “And remember, when in doubt, undo another button. He’ll get the hint eventually.”
“Here’s hoping it’s before I get arrested for public indecency,” Mackenzie cracked, but inside, she was getting more nervous by the second.
After spending ten years trying her hardest to hide her feelings, could she really throw herself at Jake just to see if he felt the same?
What the hell. She was about to find out.
* * *
Jake nearly canceled lunch a half-dozen times. What was he playing at? He’d barely escaped the other night without giving in to temptation, and now he was heading straight back into the flames again.
But somehow, he couldn’t say no to her.
He had a serious problem.
It didn’t feel like a problem when Mackenzie was panting in his arms, and that was the dangerous part. For those few, brief moments, he forgot who he was: a washed up former player with his future hanging by a thread. He forgot he had no plans to stay, or reasons to leave, forgot that she deserved far better than him. All he wanted was her. And if she was anyone else, then maybe he’d give in to the desire burning through him, to hell with the consequences.
But this was Mackenzie. His Mac. He knew her better than anyone, and he knew without a doubt she deserved the best. A man who could be there for her, and treasure every second. Build the life she wanted, and spend forever by her side. She wasn’t the kind of woman to hook up like it didn’t mean a thing. And if they really went there . . . Jake already knew there could be no going back.
It would mean everything.
He couldn’t do that, not to her. Which was why he was determined to turn the clock back to when they were just friends. Simple, uncomplicated friendship. No mind-blowing make-outs or fevered, hot desire. Today, he would tell her the kissing had to stop. No more sultry evenings alone in front of a roaring fire. He had to save their friendship while he still had the chance.
Jake pulled into the parking lot of the address she texted, surprised to find a quiet, rustic-looking carriage house set back from the street. He’d been expecting something basic—fried seafood by the waterfront—but when he stepped through the doors, he found a classy restaurant, already humming with the lunch rush.
So much for keeping things casual.
He looked around, already out of place in his jeans and flannel shirt. Mackenzie was at the bar, talking to some guy, and he could hear her laughter clear across the room.
Jake cleared his throat. “Hey.”
Mackenzie turned at his voice. “Hey you.” She smiled and walked over to greet him.
Damn.
She looked incredible. She was wearing a figure-hugging blue sweater dress that hit three inches above her knee, and was made out of some soft, fluffy material that just begged to be touched. Her hair was down, spilling over her shoulders in a cascade of wild, red curls, and there was a playful smile on her lips as she leaned in to brush a kiss against his cheek.
Jake breathed in her perfume, something subtle and spicy, and felt light-headed. What had happened to baggy overalls and sneakers Mac? The girl who wore jeans and no makeup, just one of the guys? In her place was a total bombshell, with curves it took him everything to resist holding onto.
“Uh, hey.” He finally recovered. “You look . . . dressy.”
“This old thing?” Mackenzie shrugged. “I wear it all the time.”
He swallowed hard. “I . . . I didn’t realize we were eating someplace fancy,” he said, dragging his attention away from her. The restaurant was warm and rustic, but he could see thick linens on the tables and gleaming silverware. “I would have put on a decent shirt.”
“No need.” Mackenzie placed one hand on his chest and smiled softly. “I think you look great.”
Jake felt her touch burn through him. He lurched back. “Good. OK. We should . . . get started.”
“The hostess is right there.” Mackenzie smiled, and Jake tried to pull himself together.
“Sure. Right.”
As they were shown to a table by the windows, he chided himself for acting like a fool. They were both adults, and sure, it seemed like they couldn’t spend more than a few hours together without someone getting kissed, but Jake had some damn self-control.
He cared about Mackenzie too much to let desire ruin a good thing. She deserved better than that.
Better than him.
He just had to remember that.
They settled at the table, and Jake took a gulp of ice water. “This place is new,” he said, looking around again.
“Declan opened it a couple of years ago,” Mackenzie replied, glancing at the menu. “He’s the best chef on the Cape.”
“Make that the tristate area,” a voice interrupted them.
It was the guy she’d been talking to, a tall, dark-haired man with a cocky smile on his face. Mackenzie laughed and rolled her eyes. “Add ‘modest’ to that list,” she grinned up at him.
Jealousy hit Jake hard. Was this the reason she was all dressed up?
“You’re the chef?” he asked, forcing himself to play nice.
“For my sins,” the man replied. “Declan Nash,” he said, shaking Jake’s hand. “I saw you play against the Packers a couple of years ago. Pure poetry.”
“Thanks.” Jake felt weird accepting compliments these days, like taking credit for something in a former life.
“Declan was running high-end restaurants in Vegas before he quit it all and opened here,” Mackenzie explained.
“The slow pace of life agrees with me.”
“You mean, the staff don’t all quit at your tantrums,” Mackenzie said, still teasing.
“Don’t believe her.” Declan winked at Jake. “I’m reformed. I only smashed three plates this week.”
“Progress,” Mackenzie laughed, and Jake felt that burn of envy again. He didn’t want her looking at some other man, laughing with him like that.
He wanted to be the one to make her smile.
“So what’s good today?” Mackenzie asked, and Declan took the menus from their hands.
“Trust me, I’ll blow your minds.” He sauntered back to the kitchen, and Mackenzie shook her head.
“He’s an arrogant bastard, but the man can cook.”
“You come here often then?” Jake asked, still trying to figure if this Declan was more than just a friend.
“Only for special occasions.” Mackenzie fixed him with a smile, and just like that, he felt like the only man in the world.
Their server arrived with a basket of fresh-baked bread and a crock of butter. Mackenzie tore into it with a sigh of satisfaction. “God, I love carbs,” she swooned, her eyes falling shut as she tasted the food. She looked the way she did when he kissed her, that same blissful expression that sent all his blood rushing south.
Jake took another gulp of water.
“So. The festival,” he said, trying to get things back on track. “What’s left to plan?”
Mackenzie looked amused. “Not much,” she said. “The local businesses are all putting up their displays, I’m having the main tree delivered this week, and I even confirmed the local choir for the tree-lighting ceremony. It was a busy weekend, don’t you think?” she added innocently, and Jake couldn’t help remembering just how busy.
He coughed and looked around for the server. “Can we get some more ice water over here?” he asked.
“Or we could get some wine,” Mackenzie suggested.
“No!” Jake blurted. “I mean, it’s the middle of the day.”
“Suit yourself.” She shrugged, a
nd her sweater dressed slipped off one shoulder, leaving it bare.
Dear Lord. Alcohol was probably the last thing he needed, but he was going to need something to get through this lunch without sweeping the table clean and pulling her across it. “You know, on second thought, I could use a drink,” Jake said hurriedly. “I’ll take a scotch on the rocks.”
Mackenzie arched an eyebrow. “Cutting loose, huh? I’d like to see that.”
She held his gaze, something like a challenge in her stare. He looked away, relieved when the server set down a platter of food. “Looks great,” he said, grabbing something blindly. He barely tasted whatever he put in his mouth, he was focused so hard on not watching Mackenzie savor another morsel, her tongue darting out to lick sauce from her lips.
This woman was going to be the death of him.
His drink arrived, and he took a gulp as Mackenzie ran through the other festival plans. She had been busy, and it seemed like everything was all set—from her art walk and carriage rides to the town Secret Santa gift exchange. “All this, just for a few days of celebrations?” Jake asked, still in disbelief that a simple holiday required a month of military planning.
“Tourists will start arriving this weekend. December is one long party,” she added with a smile. “We’ve got Hanukkah, Kwanzaa . . . there are even some Wiccans who throw a pagan Yule party.”
“Only in Sweetbriar.” He shook his head.
“Admit it.” Mackenzie leaned forward, her eyes shining in the sunlight. “You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
She was right. At that moment, Jake felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
With her.
Home.
He dragged his thoughts back to reality. Whatever happened to having that platonic conversation?
Ground rules, he told himself.
“We also need to make a trip to Santa’s grotto.”
Jake looked up. “Santa’s what now?”
“It’s this big holiday warehouse up in Boston,” Mackenzie explained. “Debra says that’s where we get the rest of our supplies—decorations and gifts for the toy drive. I’ve already placed our order, so we just have to go pick it up. Or I could get someone else to drive . . .” She looked around, as if searching for her chef friend.
