Yesterday's Scandal

by Gina Wilkins

  “I thought I might find you still there.”

  It hadn’t been necessary for Jerry to identify himself, of course. She recognized his voice immediately. “Yes, still here,” she said. “I was just about to lock up.”

  “How was your day?”

  “Busy. And yours?”

  “The same. You heard about the break-in at Discount Motors, I guess.”

  “Yes, Emily mentioned it at church yesterday.”

  “I carry their insurance, and I’ve spent all morning with Bob Hickey, trying to get a list of everything that was stolen or damaged. Bob’s a nice guy, but not the most organized business owner. He…”

  Distracted by the sound of the door opening, Sharon looked up paying only marginal attention to what Jerry was saying. She’d expected to see her brother enter the shop. She was surprised when Mac Cordero strolled in, instead. It was even more difficult after that to pay attention to Jerry’s play-by-play recitation of his workday. She smiled at Mac and motioned to indicate that she would be right with him.

  Jerry was still talking. “And then Martha Godwin called. Boy, was she wound up today. She’s decided that she…”

  Realizing that Jerry wouldn’t be taking a breath anytime soon, Sharon covered the mouthpiece with her hand and spoke softly to Mac, who leaned against the counter nearby. “Hi.”

  “Want me to wait somewhere else while you finish that?”

  Jerry was still going on about Martha’s eccentricities. “No, you’re fine,” she murmured to Mac. “This won’t take long.”

  “Anyway,” Jerry said suddenly in her ear, “we’re both too tired to cook this evening. Why don’t we go out? We’ll take Brad, of course. He’ll want pizza, I suppose.”

  Looking away from Mac, who was thumbing through a wallpaper-sample book to occupy himself while she finished her call, Sharon said, “Thanks, Jerry, but we can’t tonight.”

  There was only a hint of disappointment in his voice. “I guess you already have plans for the evening. I knew it was short notice, but I thought it was worth a try. So…I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  She wondered if he was beginning to catch her hints that they should spend less time together. Now that she had forced herself to look objectively at their relationship and had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t going anywhere—more importantly, that she didn’t really even want it to—she saw no reason to continue. They should both feel free to pursue other…interests, she thought, glancing sideways at Mac. She hoped she wouldn’t have to spell it out to Jerry—that would be so awkward and uncomfortable—but she was prepared to do so if necessary. “Sure. We’ll talk later.”

  It had been a brief, unremarkable conversation, on the surface no different from dozens of chats they’d had before. Yet Sharon had the odd feeling that she had just made a significant change in her life as she disconnected Jerry’s call and turned to Mac.

  He looked up from the wallpaper book, his grave dark eyes searching her face. “Everything okay?”

  “I hope so.” After putting the telephone away, Sharon tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling shy with this man who had kissed her senseless less than forty-eight hours before. “Is there something I can do for you, Mac?”

  He hesitated just long enough to make her aware of how many answers there could be to that particular question. And then he smiled. “Actually, I stopped by to give you my new address.”

  “You aren’t staying at the motel now?”

  “No. I’ve moved into an apartment on West Elm.”

  “Are you pleased with it?”

  He shrugged. “It’s clean, anyway. Better than a motel room.”

  “It’s furnished?”

  “The basics are provided. Enough to satisfy my needs for now.”

  “What about linens? Cookware? Dishes?”

  “I have all that. I carry a couple of boxes of necessities with me from job to job.”

  She frowned. “It sounds rather bleak when you put it that way. Don’t you have a permanent home somewhere?”

  “I own a house in Savannah. It’s rented out now.”

  “So you’ve just been moving from job to job?”

  “For the past few years.”

  “You don’t have a family?”

  “I’m divorced.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t really considered that he might have once been married. She wondered what had happened to his marriage. Why he lived such a lonely existence now. Had his heart been broken? “No children?”

  “No.”

  She studied his face. There’d been something in that stark single syllable. Something in his voice. A flash of emotion in his eyes. Pain? Regret? A touch of anger? Or was she letting her imagination get completely away from her?

  He changed the subject before she could ask any more questions. “Are you finished here for the day?”

  “Yes. I’m waiting for my brother. He was supposed to have been here half an hour ago.”

  “He hasn’t called?”

  “No. He went to a movie with some friends. They probably stopped by the arcade afterward and let time get away from them.”

  “That’s typical of teenagers, I understand.”

  “Yes—but Brad knows I expect him to be on time.”

  “It must be difficult being responsible for a teenage brother. Does he usually follow your rules?”

  “He hasn’t given me much trouble so far. An incident or two. Some backtalk. No open rebellion yet.”

  “Still, I bet you’ll be glad when your mother comes home.”

  Mac didn’t know her mother, of course. Having Lucy home wouldn’t make much difference. She let others take over—usually Sharon. As for Brad—well, Sharon worried about what would happen when school started again. It had been at school that Brad had hooked up with the wrong crowd in the first place. She wasn’t at all sure Lucy could do much if he got into any more trouble. Lucy indulged, she didn’t discipline.

  “So what’s the penalty for being half an hour late?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. I’ll probably take his video game away for the evening. Maybe TV, as well.”

  “Mmm. That’ll show him,” Mac murmured.

  Sharon shot him a suspicious look. Was that an implied criticism? He was the one who’d said all teenagers did this sort of thing. Did he expect her to ground Brad for life?

  The door opened and Brad rushed in, red-faced and panting. “I’m sorry I’m late, sis. Jimbo ran out of gas and we had to—”

  The jumbled words came to an abrupt halt when he spotted Mac. He froze practically in midstep. Sharon knew he was startled to find someone else in the shop after closing time, but she couldn’t imagine why his cheeks suddenly turned beet red and his face drew into a sullen scowl.

  “Brad, this is Mr. Cordero,” she said, rushing to fill in the strained silence. “Mac, my brother, Brad Henderson.”

  “Nice to meet you, Brad.”

  His gaze on his shoes, Brad muttered something incoherent.

  Sharon lifted an eyebrow. Her brother was sometimes awkward, but rarely outright rude. “I’m not sure Mr. Cordero heard that, Brad.”

  Mac shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll clear out now. I just wanted to give you my new address.”

  “Thank you. I’ll probably come out to the site tomorrow to take pictures upstairs. It’s safe to do that, I presume?”

  “As long as you stay clear of the workers. I expect to be there most of the day tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

  She smiled at him. “See you then.”

  He looked for a moment at her smile and then raised his eyes to hers again. She had the strangest sensation that she had just been virtually kissed. Her lips actually tingled.

  The man really was making her crazy.

  Mac turned toward the door then. “See you around, Brad,” he said as he passed the teen.

  Brad didn’t reply.

  “You were rude to Mr. Cordero, Brad,” Sharon chided when the door clos
ed behind Mac. “I doubt he heard a word you said.”

  “I don’t like him.”

  She was surprised by the growled response. “What do you mean? You only just met him.”

  “I don’t care. He seems like a jerk to me.”

  “Honestly, Brad. You shouldn’t form judgments about people without even getting to know them. Mr. Cordero is a very nice man.” Even as she said it, she was aware of how insipid the word nice seemed when applied to Mac.

  Brad didn’t buy it. “He’s a jerk. And I don’t like the way he looked at you.”

  Sharon reached for her purse. “Don’t be silly. Let’s go home now and get some dinner. And we’re going to talk about why you were more than half an hour late.”

  “I told you, it wasn’t my fault.”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” she repeated, keys in hand as she moved toward the door.

  “Jerry said last Friday night that he was going to try to take us out for pizza or something tonight. Didn’t he call?”

  “He called, but I turned him down.”

  “Aw, man! Just because I was a few minutes late?”

  “I had several reasons.” She let him exit the shop ahead of her.

  Brad muttered under his breath as she locked the door. Sharon sighed. It was going to be a long, stressful evening. The only bright spot in the past hour had been Mac’s unexpected visit.

  CAMERA IN HAND, Sharon stepped through the front door of the Garrett house at just after five Tuesday afternoon. She had passed several vehicles leaving as she arrived, so she assumed work had ended for the day. Mac’s truck was still in the parking lot, alongside one other car she recognized as Trevor McBride’s.

  Wondering why a lawyer was visiting a construction site, she paused just inside the front door at the rack Mac had set up to hold spare hard hats. She couldn’t help smiling when she spotted a brand-new, bright yellow hat at the end of the row. Neatly lettered across the front was the word decorator.

  The hat fit almost perfectly when she settled it on her head. It made her feel very much like a member of the team—a feeling she was starting to enjoy. Somewhat proprietarily, she glanced around the entryway and into the front parlor, imagining how beautiful and welcoming this view would be once she finished her part.

  Heavy footsteps on the temporarily reinforced stairs made her look up. Mac and Trevor were on their way down. Neither was wearing a hard hat—probably because the construction work had ended for the day. She studied them as they descended. Two very strong, attractive men, she mused. One dark and sleek, the other golden and slender.

  She imagined there would be quite a heated debate among her friends as to which man was the most attractive of the two. As for her—well, she thought as she focused on Mac, there was really no question.

  Trevor smiled when he saw Sharon. Mac didn’t smile, but there was a sudden gleam in his dark eyes that made her knees quiver for a moment. Because it seemed safer, she concentrated first on his companion. “Hello, Trevor.”

  “Hi, Sharon. Nice hat.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced at Mac with a quick smile. “It’s new.”

  “Very fetching. Interesting place, hmm?”

  “Very. I haven’t been upstairs yet, but I’m itching to reveal the potential of the downstairs.”

  “It’s a bit of a maze upstairs, but there’s definite potential there, too. Mac just gave me a quick tour. I haven’t been in here since I was a kid and I was curious if the place looked anything like I remembered.”

  “And did it?”

  “Not much,” Trevor admitted. “But that was a long time ago.”

  She laughed. “You make it sound as if you’re an old man.”

  He chuckled. “There are days when thirty-two feels pretty old. Especially when I’m trying to keep up with my six-year-old son and three-year-old daughter.”

  “How is your family?”

  “Fine, thank you. I’ll give them your regards.”

  “Do that.”

  Trevor turned to Mac, who’d been waiting patiently while they exchanged pleasantries. Thanking him again for the tour, Trevor shook Mac’s hand, then explained that he had to hurry home to his family. Sharon and Mac were left alone in the house when Trevor closed the front door behind him.

  “I was surprised to see Trevor here,” Sharon commented, just to fill the sudden silence.

  “Trent said something the other day about Trevor wanting to look around the place before we changed everything. I sent a message for him to stop by anytime.”

  “It was nice of you to take the time to walk him through.”

  “I had no other plans. And I understood his curiosity.”

  “And now I’m the curious one. I can’t wait to get upstairs and look around.”

  “Then what’s keeping you?” he asked, motioning toward the stairway.

  Very aware of Mac following close behind her, she climbed the stairs, wondering what she would find at the top.

  As Trevor had commented, the upstairs resembled a maze, with lots of little rooms opening off meandering hallways. To add to the chaos, the workers had started tearing out walls already, leaving gaping holes behind.

  Mac guided her through the mess, pointing out features that would remain, describing the changes, even asking her opinion on a couple of options. She took several snapshots, though she knew it would look very different once Mac was finished.

  Studying a particularly interesting wall line, she turned and found Mac standing directly in front of her. “Um…there’s not a lot of natural light up here, is there?”

  The way he was looking at her, she could tell he wasn’t really thinking about the renovation. “There will be more when we’re finished,” he said, his eyes never leaving her face.

  She moistened her lips, trying to keep her mind on the job. “You’re making a lot of changes.”

  “Yes. But the basic style and structure of the house won’t change.”

  “I know. That’s what I find so intriguing about this project.”

  He lifted a hand to straighten her hard hat, though it already felt straight. He left his hand there when he’d finished, maintaining the contact between them. “Doesn’t anything else about this project intrigue you?”

  She swallowed. Now, how was she to answer that? “Um…”

  “Coward,” he murmured just beneath his breath.

  Her left eyebrow rose in response to the challenge. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Nothing.” His attempt at looking innocent was almost laughably ineffective. She didn’t think Mac would be trying out for the Honoria Community Theater anytime soon. Innocent was just not an expression he could pull off.

  Feeling more at ease with him now, she walked the fingers of her right hand up the front of his denim shirt, holding the camera in her left hand. “If I were a coward,” she asked, “would I be here now? Alone in this old house with a guy some people say is involved in organized crime?”

  Even though she had spoken lightly, he frowned. “I told you, I am not …”

  She covered his mouth with her fingertips. “I know. I was only teasing.”

  Moving swiftly, he caught her hand and held it against his lips, planting a kiss in her palm. Funny. She’d never realized there were quite so many nerve endings in her palm. And every one of them sparked to life when Mac’s lips brushed her skin.

  His head still slightly bent over her hand, he looked at her through his dark lashes. No man had ever looked at her the way Mac did. Others had looked at her—Mac seemed to look right into her. And, oh, how it made her feel.

  Without releasing her, he slid his other hand behind her neck and gave a gentle tug. She never even considered resisting.

  This kiss was as startlingly powerful as the ones they had shared before. She might have thought she would be better prepared this time for the effect his kisses had on her. She’d have been wrong.

  She wasn’t sure how her arms ended up around his neck. She didn’t remember puttin
g them there. She only knew they felt right there. She didn’t know what had happened to her camera, though she supposed the slight thud she’d heard at her feet a moment earlier might be a clue. Fortunately, it was an inexpensive and durable model. Not that she cared at the moment.

  He twisted so that she rested over his arm, giving him better access to her mouth. His movements were bold. Decisive. There was a hint of wildness in this kiss. A whisper of danger. She wouldn’t have expected to be drawn to either. But she was.

  From the beginning, Mac had appealed to a part of her she hardly recognized, herself.

  He lifted his head, searched her face for a moment, then covered her mouth with his again. The kiss went on for an eternity, and when it ended, there was no doubt left in her mind that he was as affected by the connection between them as she was. His left arm surrounded her, supporting her. His right hand was at the small of her back, pressing lightly, holding her against him. There was no question that he wanted her—and what an experience it was to be wanted by a man like this!

  “Did you plan this?” she asked.

  “I planned to have you in my arms again since I left your house the other night,” he admitted.

  “I’m not sure if I should respond by being flattered or insulted.”

  “Just as long as you respond,” he murmured, then kissed her again.

  She most definitely responded.

  “This is crazy,” she murmured between kisses. “We hardly know each other.”

  He caught her lower lip gently, briefly, between his teeth, causing a current of electricity to race through her. Then he lifted his head. “I’m all for getting to know each other better.”

  She trailed a fingertip along the strong line of his jaw, realizing that her initial shyness around him was almost gone. “I’d like that.”

  “Have dinner with me tonight?”

  “I have to pick up my brother from baseball practice in half an hour. I was planning to make spaghetti for dinner tonight. Why don’t you join us?”

  His mouth twisted. “I don’t think your brother likes me very much.”

  She was surprised he’d picked up on that. She still didn’t understand Brad’s antagonism toward Mac. “He just doesn’t know you. Brad’s going through an awkwardness stage. I’m sure he’ll like you if he spends time with you.”