by Karen Anders
It made her feel giddy that he’d gone to such lengths to meet her. Giddy and flattered.
When the door opened, Tyler was standing there.
“What do you want?” he said with unfriendly eyes.
“I need to talk to Mac.”
“Haven’t you hurt him enough?”
“I know and I’m sorry. Please, Tyler, give me a chance to make it up to him. I love him so much I can’t bear the thought of being without him.”
Tyler’s eyes softened and Laurel started to hope.
“All right. He’s miserable without you, too. Let me get my coat.”
“Tyler?”
“Yes.”
“Would we have time to stop by Hayes Cycles?
Tyler grinned and nodded. “Sure. It’s on the way.”
MAC HEARD THE HARD knocking all the way to his bathroom. He’d been staring in the mirror, deciding if he wanted to shave. Deciding if he wanted to go to the corner market and get the paper. He should really look for a job.
Halfway to the door the knock came again and he called out, “Hold your damn horses.” The knocking only got more persistent. “I said,” he pulled open the door.
“Hold your horses. I know. I heard you bellow through the door.”
Laurel walked past him without a by your leave. “You can get the chair in the hall. It was a bitch lugging it up here.”
Sure enough, the lipstick-red lip chair sat in the hallway.
She looked around his apartment. “This is very nice. You really do have good taste, unlike your brother.”
“Decorating is not his strong suit,” Mac muttered as he picked up the chair and moved it inside his loft.
“It’ll fit perfectly right here.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking when I first saw it,” Mac said.
“I love your loft.”
He was grumpy and dammit he was still hurt. Having her in his loft, so close to him only sent that aching, gnawing hunger through him. “Could you tell me what’s going on?”
She smiled, a beautiful radiant smile filled with certainty. “I owe you an apology, a couple really.”
Something tight and unyielding seemed to loosen around his heart. “You owe me an apology? I’m listening.”
“Thank you. It’s more than I allowed you.”
“Go on.”
She took a deep breath. “I’ve spent my whole life letting my father and mother do everything for me. It wasn’t apathy really, it was mostly fear of taking a risk. I have no room to talk about deception since I was as bad as you. I was lying by omission to my family and friends, and that makes me a bigger deceiver then you could ever think of being. You did it because you wanted to get close to me and felt that it was the only way to do that. I did it to protect myself. I’m sorry for the cruel things I said.”
He remained quiet, listening, waiting for her to continue and finish, but he liked what he heard so far. Laurel stepped closer, but didn’t touch him.
“I found that the more I got to know you, the more I wanted to take a risk, on myself, on you,” she said huskily. “You are the only person that I was able to confide in about what I really love to do because I trusted you on an instinctive level. I knew in my heart that you would never deliberately hurt me. It was scary how much you understood me, how much we were in tune. And you’re surely no bad boy. You’re trustworthy and reliable and oh-so-sexy.” She smiled, a fine sheen of tears glossing her eyes. “It’s quite a wonderful combination.”
He trailed his fingers down her soft cheek, needing to feel her skin beneath his fingertips. “Laurel—”
She held up her hand. “Wait, I’m not done yet.” She inhaled deeply, and went on. “I’ve been so completely selfish and so blind when it comes to what I want and need. It’s true. I probably wouldn’t have given you the time of day because you worked for my father and that was wrong of me. Narrow-minded. Especially when you risked everything for me…like getting fired. For that I’m deeply sorry.”
“I learned something very important from you, too.”
“What?” she asked.
“I learned that I liked being bad every once in a while, especially in bed. It made me take a look at my life. I wasn’t experiencing life until I met you.”
“Looks like we both won big.” She smiled and took his hand. “I’ve got something to show you outside.”
“I’m more interested in what I can show you right here, right now.”
“Okay, I’m easy. How about you look out the window?”
He obliged her by doing so. He moved the curtains aside and started chuckling.
“How the heck did you get that chair over here on that little red Ducati?”
“Your brother drove it. He went back in my SUV.”
Mac laughed. “You need a motorcycle license, you know.”
“I know, but I figure I could get lessons from my bad-boy boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? I don’t think so.” He smiled, his chest filling up with more joy than he could hold. “It has to be more than that Laurel because I can’t live without you. I’m crazy in love with you, in case you haven’t figured it out. It must be marriage.”
She launched herself into his arms. Her mouth was soft and warm beneath his.
“Is that a yes?” he breathed against her mouth.
“Yes, yes, yes and yes again. I love you, too.”
Epilogue
Thank you for constructing your wonderful Who’s Your Hottie? quiz. I’m thanking you because after careful reflection, I believe that a man can’t be pigeonholed into categories. Men are as unique as fingerprints and as wonderful as the stars. I’ve found my hottie, a man who embodies all the traits I love, compassion, sense of humor, intelligence, oh and a hot, gorgeous bod. I didn’t say I was totally altruistic. Once again, thanks for the eye opener and the test. I think I passed with flying colors.
Laurel M from New York
—Letter to the editor of SPICE magazine
LAUREL’S STORE WAS PACKED with people and she was beginning to believe that her Fun and Funktion Furniture was quite a hit.
The Village Voice was even running a piece about the store next week. It had been a wonderful six months. She and Mac had been married in the beautiful living room that overlooked the ocean at Mac’s parents’ home in the Hamptons.
Mac had started working full-time with his brother, and was helping her on her busy weekends and attending to all the financial headaches of both businesses before he decided what it was he wanted to do with his life.
She rang up a three thousand dollar order for her Wavy bed design, one of her hottest sellers for the Christmas season.
“Hey there,” Mac said from the doorway.
“Hey yourself,” Laurel said, giving the receipt to the customer, her last one of the day. She walked toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Tyler called me just a few minutes ago. He’s going to Cranberry.”
“To meet his father? That’s great, Mac. Mr. Hayes will be so happy to see his son again.”
“That was a good idea that you had to give Tyler Mr. Hayes’s e-mail address, so that Tyler could converse with him before he finally met him.”
“After you told me, I couldn’t rest until they met.”
“I love you, Laurel.
“I love you, too.”
Laurel looked up into Mac’s gorgeous blue eyes and smiled. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a black Mercedes pull up to the curb and her father got out from behind the wheel.
“Oh, my God, it’s my father!”
Her father hadn’t quite embraced Laurel’s hobby and she’d been disappointed when he hadn’t shown up to her grand opening any day since.
For a moment, her father stood on the sidewalk taking in her store. On display were the cheery Christmas lights and handmade funky reindeer and Santa Claus, the blue snowmen, and wire Christmas trees, along with the arrangement of her most popular furniture designs.
He
r eyes met her father’s through the glass and she saw his vulnerability. Her heart filled with love for him as he took the steps that brought him through her front door. She left Mac’s arms and rushed up to him, giving him a big hug.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7072-9
MANHANDLING
Copyright © 2004 by Karen Alarie.
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*Women Who Dare
