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About a Dog

Page 7

by Jenn McKinlay


  Mac laughed. “Carly would kill you.”

  “There is that,” Brad said. “But we might make enough money in ads to pay off our mortgage.”

  Emma held up two hands like a scale. “Lifelong friend. Mortgage. Hmmm. Tough one.”

  Gavin and Sam rejoined them with popcorn for everyone, and as if the smell lured them in, Carly and Zach jogged over from the dance floor to partake.

  “Well, kids, I hate to break up the party, but I have to be up and baking whoopie pies early in the morning,” Jillian said. She glanced at Sam, and added, “You’re coming by to pick up the wedding favors, yes?”

  “I will be there,” he said. He turned to Zach. “And you’re coming with me.”

  “What?” Zach protested. “What time?”

  “Eight,” Jillian said. “Before the shop opens.”

  “Eight?” Zach looked outraged. “No one gets up at eight on the weekend.”

  “You are,” Sam said.

  Zach began to mutter as Sam led him to the door. Jillian and Carly joined them, with Carly commiserating with Zach about the evils of sunrise. Brad and Emma fell in behind them, leaving Mac again with Gavin.

  They walked down the pier with a gap between them wide enough for two people to fill. Mac was beginning to think their acquaintanceship was actually more awkward than talking about their one-night stand. Who’d have thought?

  The wood creaked beneath Mac’s feet and she tried not to think about the churning water below the flimsy planks. She picked up her pace as the distance to solid ground seemed like it was getting farther away instead of closer with each step, although she knew it was probably just her panic kicking in.

  A wave crashed against a piling below, and Mac jumped and made a little yip.

  “Mac, are you all right?” Gavin closed the gap between them and took her arm, causing her to slow down. “Did you twist an ankle or something?”

  “No, I’m fine,” she said. She refused to look down and fastened her gaze on his shirt buttons instead.

  “It’s the water, isn’t it?” he asked. “I forgot you hate the deep dark.”

  “I blame Shark Week,” she said. She heard him chuckle but kept her gaze on his shirt. He was standing too close and eye contact at this juncture could only lead to more impure thoughts, which she was trying very hard to avoid since they now seemed to have this frosty pane of glass between them.

  Well, Gavin smashed that. He pulled her close and tucked her into his side. “I promise I won’t let you fall in and if you do, I won’t let anything grab you in its powerful jaws and pull you under.”

  “Not helping,” she said, although his solid strength beside her did calm her down just a little.

  “All right, Mac?” Carly called from the front of the pack.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “Okay, that’s a lie, but I’m working through it. How freaking long is this pier anyway?”

  Zach glanced over his shoulder at her. His face was kind but also full of alcohol-fueled mischief.

  “You know what always helps me when I’m afraid, Mac?” he asked.

  “The Three Wise Men?”

  “Ha! Yes, but even better is singing,” he said.

  “Oh, please, no,” Mac said.

  She felt Gavin’s shoulders start to shake as Zach wrapped one arm around Carly and the other around Jillian and began to belt out “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey.

  “Sweet peanuts,” Mac said. “We are so getting arrested for disturbing the peace.”

  “Possibly,” Gavin said, “but on the upside, a voice like that is sure to scare away anything that might lurk in the deep dark.”

  “Good point.”

  When they were two-thirds of the way in from the end of the pier Mac felt the wobble in her knees start to stiffen. The panic passed and she took a deep breath and leaned away from Gavin.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’ve got this now.”

  She didn’t think she imagined that he let her go with just a hint of reluctance, but she refused to dwell on it. When they were back on land, Mac resisted the urge to kneel down and give Mother Earth a big smooch. Barely.

  A buzzing noise sounded and Gavin reached into his shirt pocket and took out his phone. He glanced at the screen and then typed something before putting it back in his pocket.

  “The Walkers’ golden retriever is in labor,” he said. “Gotta go.”

  “Puppies!” Zach cried. “Hey, that would make a swell wedding gift. Ask them how much they want for one.”

  “No, it most certainly would not,” Emma said. She glared at her brother. “Don’t you dare.”

  Gavin raised his hands in innocence. “Just hoping for a healthy litter here.”

  Hugs were exchanged as their group split up. The boys headed out in one group, while the girls were another, the only exception being Brad and Emma who were going to their new home, which they’d just moved into last month.

  As Mac hugged everyone good night, she refused to feel weird about hugging Gavin. They had worked it out. Despite any lingering curiosity, they were solidly friends so there was absolutely no need for her to feel self-conscious about hugging him just like she hugged Sam, Zach, and Brad.

  Except when she hugged the others, she didn’t feel the same need to twine herself around them like a vine on a trellis as she did with Gavin. Muscle memory, she told herself. It had to be her muscle memory kicking in, remembering their erotic gymnastics the last time they’d been together. Right?

  Yeah, that was it. She stiffened her spine and gave him a quick squeeze but when she would have stepped back, Gavin blew her muscle memory theory right into the wind when he held her close longer than necessary and whispered in her ear, “Oh, about our talk earlier, I forgot to mention one little thing. I respect your feelings one hundred percent, but I fully intend to try and change your mind about the friend thing.”

  Uh-oh!

  Chapter 8

  Gavin released her and Mac was positive her surprise showed on her face as he winked at her and then departed, off to help a mama dog bring her puppies into the world. Now why did that suddenly seem like the most honorable thing any man had ever done?

  “Are you sure you girls want to walk home by yourselves?” Brad asked. He gestured to the other guys and himself. “Any of us would be happy to escort you to your door.”

  Mac hooked her arms through Carly’s and Jillian’s. “No, we’re fine. We’re just going up the road. The night air will do us good. Right, ladies?”

  Carly and Jillian gave her curious looks and Mac knew she was overselling it, but this was an emergency. She needed a girlfriend consult immediately.

  Carly must have seen something in her face, because she nodded and said, “You kids go on home. We’re good.”

  “Text me when you all get home, so I know you’re safe,” Emma said.

  They agreed and then stood under a streetlight watching as the rest of their pack wandered off into the night.

  “Ouch!” Jillian pulled her arm out of Mac’s. “Is there a reason you felt the need to cut off the circulation to my wrist?”

  “What happened?” Carly said. “You two seemed to be doing fine and then you looked all bug-eyed like he made a play. Did he make a play?”

  “Let’s not talk here,” Mac said.

  She broke away from the other two and began to stride in the opposite direction from their friends.

  “Where are you going?” Jillian cried. “This isn’t the way home.”

  “Shortcut,” Mac lied.

  She heard the other two hurrying behind her, but she didn’t stop until she had crossed Main Street and was striding across the town green, which was mercifully empty.

  Carly was gasping and panting and when they reached a park bench she threw herself down onto it in a heap.

  “That’s it
,” she declared. “I can’t go another foot. Now tell us what the hell is going on?”

  “Gavin is refusing to be friend zoned,” Mac said.

  “What? I thought you said everything was copacetic between you two,” Carly said.

  “I lied,” Mac said. “It’s been weird and awkward since the get-go. I just thought if I pretended that everything was okay that it would magically become okay, but it’s not going to be okay, is it?”

  “Wait! Back up. I am totally lost. Since when don’t you and Gavin get on?” Jillian asked. “I always thought you were close. I mean you’ve always adored him like a little brother.”

  “Oh, god, I’m going to hell.” Mac collapsed onto the bench beside Carly and dug her hands into her hair. This was a nightmare.

  “Yeah, it’s not really a brotherly relationship that Mac shares with Gavin,” Carly said to Jillian. “It’s more like Big.”

  “Big how?” Jillian asked, clearly confused.

  “Like Big the movie,” Carly said. “You know, older woman defiling a younger man.”

  “I did not!” Mac protested. “I’m only five years older, sheesh, it’s not like we’re Harold and Maude.”

  Jillian gasped as it all came into focus. “No way! You’re sleeping with Gavin?”

  “No! Past tense,” Mac said. “I slept with Gavin.”

  “What? When?” Jillian cried. “And how do I not know this? Does Emma know? Oh, my god, this is her Gavin. He might as well be her firstborn. Oh, she’s going to kill you. You remember when he had his first girlfriend and she thought the girl was moving too fast. Emma made us run interference until the girl finally broke up with him.”

  “And there’s the dilemma,” Mac said. “Not so much my death as that might be a relief right now, but yeah, Emma finding out about Gavin and me is a concern.”

  “You think?” Carly asked.

  “But I still don’t understand,” Jillian said. She paced in front of the bench as she talked. “You haven’t been back in Bluff Point in seven years. When did you and Gavin hook up?”

  “You might as well take it from the top, Mrs. Robinson,” Carly said.

  “Shut up,” Mac said. She looked at Jillian, which was difficult because she was afraid of the judgment and derision she was going to find there. But this was Jillian; there was no judgment, just concern.

  “The night of my wedding, or rather my aborted wedding,” Mac said. “I was pretty distraught.”

  “Rightly so,” Jillian said. She eased onto the bench beside Mac and put her arm around her shoulders.

  Mac swallowed hard and glanced at the church sitting on the east side of the town green. Spotlights lit up the spire that reached to the sky, illuminating the tower where the big brass bell chimed every Sunday to call the worshippers to service.

  It had happened right there in front of god and every person she had ever met in her life, or so it had seemed at the time.

  The arched wooden door was closed now, but on that day, a brisk day in May, it had been wide open. Ribbons had festooned the pews, flowers had poured off of the dais in a riot of pink and white—it had been the perfect setting for her wedding. Mac’s bridesmaids, Jillian, Carly, and Emma, had walked down the aisle to Pachelbel’s “Canon in D” while Mac stood with her dad in the vestibule waiting for the traditional bridal march to start.

  But then a car horn had blasted through the anticipation, and Mac had turned her head to see Jessie Peeler, her nemesis since she’d cut off Mac’s braids in the second grade with a pair of children’s scissors, sitting in a zippy red convertible, honking the horn repeatedly and staring at the front of the church. Mac had been livid that Jessie was trying to cause a distraction and ruin her day—typical—but then Seth Connelly, her groom, came bolting down the aisle, running toward the door.

  She had thought he was coming to save the day and chase Jessie off but no. He never stopped or slowed down or broke his stride, he just shouted, “Sorry, Mac, I just can’t do it. I don’t love you.” Then he jumped into Jessie’s car and she sped off with Mac’s man, leaving Mac rejected and alone in all her bridal finery on her wedding day.

  She and her father had stood stupidly staring after the car as it disappeared around the corner. Sensing catastrophe, Emma, Carly, and Jillian had run back down the aisle to get to Mac. Before she knew it, she was being shoved into a pickup truck and Gavin was driving her away from the chaotic scene at the church, away from everything she had thought her life was supposed to be.

  “I didn’t plan for it to happen,” Mac said. “I just—my whole world had imploded, and I reached for the first source of comfort I could find and it was Gavin.”

  Jillian nodded. “I remember now. Aunt Sarah went after Seth’s parents and had to be subdued. Aunt Charlotte couldn’t stop crying. Your poor parents were in shock. And we were all so worried about you that we decided the best thing we could do would be to get you out of there and eradicate any vestige of wedding anything at the church, the house, the venue, all of it. Your dad and Aunt Sarah wanted to go after Seth with a shotgun.”

  Mac laughed. “Dad’s a pacifist. He doesn’t even know how to shoot. Aunt Sarah though—she could probably manage it.”

  Jillian snorted.

  “I think your dad was feeling sufficiently motivated to learn,” Carly said. “We all were.”

  “Emma told Gavin to take you away and let you cry it out all over him if need be,” Jillian said.

  “She cried something,” Carly said. Mac gave her a death glare.

  “It’s not funny,” Mac said.

  “Oh, come on, it’s a little funny,” Carly said.

  “No, it isn’t,” Jillian said. She gave Carly a quelling look. Then she turned to Mac and gave her a hurt look. “I just can’t believe you never told me.”

  “I was never going to tell anyone ever,” Mac said.

  “But you told Carly,” Jillian pointed out.

  “No, I didn’t,” Mac said.

  Carly leaned around Mac to talk to Jillian directly. “It’s true; she didn’t share her sordid story with me. I figured it out when I caught her in the midst of her walk of shame. Not a pretty picture: her wedding dress was wrinkled and torn, she was carrying her bra in her handbag—really, it was about the gnarliest walk of shame I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen my share.”

  “So glad you enjoyed it,” Mac said. She tipped her head back and looked at the dark sky. She could only pick out a few stars, the brightest ones, behind the glow of the old-fashioned lampposts that lit up the town square at night.

  “Oh, Mac,” Jillian said. “You should have told Emma at the time.”

  “I know,” Mac said. “But I didn’t want to embarrass Gavin, and I was so raw from Seth’s betrayal. I just packed a bag and bolted to the first job I could find, which happened to be in Chicago. I would have preferred Australia.”

  “Well, I for one am glad you didn’t go that far,” Carly said. She sounded uncharacteristically sentimental and Mac reached over and squeezed her hand.

  “Okay, I can see where this is a pickle,” Jillian said. “But it’s hardly a crisis. I mean, you have a boyfriend. You’re not available so even if Gavin is curious about what could happen between you, all you have to do is play the relationship card and he’ll back off.”

  Carly and Mac both shook their heads.

  “You don’t have a boyfriend anymore? You and Trevor broke up? But I thought you said he was just working in London,” Jillian said. Her eyes lit up with hope.

  “No, we didn’t break up, exactly, but even if we did, it’s very uncool of you to sound so happy about it,” Mac said.

  “Oh, sorry.” Jillian cringed.

  “Don’t be,” Carly said. “He’s an ass, no one likes him.”

  “I like him,” Mac argued.

  “No, you don’t,” Carly said. “And that’s why you�
��re with him.”

  “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Mac said. “Why would I be with him if I didn’t like him?”

  “Because, Little Miss Number Cruncher, you don’t want to be with anyone you actually like, or god forbid, love,” Carly said. “Back me up, Jilly.”

  Mac turned from Carly to Jillian. “Explain.”

  “It’s nothing,” Jillian assured her. “It’s just that you’re an accountant.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Mac felt as if her temples were contracting as she tried to follow their reasoning.

  “Your life is all about loss and gain, right?” Jillian asked.

  “And profit margins, acceptable risk, and tax laws; so what?”

  “Because, dummy, getting involved with someone you actually care about, for you, is a solid loss since the last time you were burnt so badly,” Carly said. “And that’s why you’re with Trevor in a going nowhere relationship—because the risk of loss is minimal emotionally, financially, and I’d wager physically.”

  “How many times have you two analyzed my love life?” Mac asked.

  “Every time you make us hang out with Mr. Stick Up His Butt,” Carly said.

  “We’ve just been worried,” Jillian said more diplomatically.

  “And bewildered,” Carly said. “What do you see in that guy?”

  “He’s nice,” Mac growled.

  “So are granny panties,” Carly said. “But you don’t want to wear them every day for the rest of your life. Besides which, he is not nice!”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Puhleeze,” Carly snorted. “You cannot be that deluded. He’s a manipulative jerk, or did you forget that he lied right to my face when I was sent to Chicago last-minute and showed up on your doorstep to do an impromptu girls’ night? He said you were out when you were in the shower just to get rid of me. He’s an asshole.”

  “Carly, that was over a year ago and it was just a misunderstanding. Gah, I can’t talk to you,” Mac said. She was beginning to regret confiding in her two friends. Who needed the psychoanalysis? All she wanted was help with the immediate situation.

 

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