Chasing the Dragon

by T. K. Leigh

  Tyler returned with a champagne flute and handed me the glass filled with a bubbly liquid. “Mackenzie?” he said, noticing my distant expression. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” I said quickly, tearing my eyes from his.

  “What is it? What are you thinking right now?”

  I steadied myself, organizing my thoughts in my head.

  “What are you feeling right now?”

  “That I don’t belong here,” I admitted.

  He reeled back, taking the champagne from me and placing it on the coffee table. He grabbed my hands in his. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because it’s the truth, Tyler. This world you live in is something I can’t even wrap my head around. And I guess I’ve tried to forget about who you really are. That you’re well-known, a bit of a celebrity. And seeing this reminds me I just don’t deserve any of it.”

  “Mackenzie,” he said, raising his hand to wipe a tear that escaped my eye. “Why not?”

  “It’s not supposed to be this simple. Nothing in my life has been easy,” I declared passionately. “I lost my father when I was a little girl, then my mother was killed my freshman year of college. I’ve had to work for everything I have, and here I am, sitting on a yacht that probably costs more than I’ll ever make in a lifetime. I don’t think I even have two hundred dollars in my checking account right now. It’s just… It’s a lot to take in.”

  “Don’t think about any of that. This is my life, Mackenzie, and if you’ll have me, I want to share what I have with you. You deserve everything I can give you and so much more. Don’t think otherwise. You are an amazing woman who has captured my heart. You’re loving, caring, and you have a beautiful soul,” he declared passionately. “Please, just let me prove to you that you are a fucking treasure who deserves to be spoiled. Okay?”

  He planted a soft kiss on my nose. It was simple and brief, but it made me fall for him a little bit more.

  “You really think so?” I met his gaze.

  “Yes. I really think so,” he replied, his voice smooth and comforting.

  “Okay,” I said. “But I’d be just as happy on a rickety old rowboat.”

  “Duly noted. Now, a toast.” He grabbed the champagne glasses off the coffee table and handed me one. “To a night I hope you’ll never forget. And one I hope will lead to many more unforgettable nights.”

  I raised my glass to his, my heart thumping in my chest as I stared back into his brilliant eyes.

  “Me, too.”

  Tyler

  “TEMPRANILLO?” I ASKED, HOLDING up a bottle of wine as I sat across from Mackenzie at a table set for two on the upper deck. We had made it approximately ten miles off the coast of Texas and lowered the anchor so we could enjoy our dinner. The weather was perfect, as if the stars aligned for our one night. There was a light breeze and the temperature was pleasant, the humidity from earlier in the day nowhere to be found. I admired her breathtaking silhouette against the backdrop of the stars, wanting the evening to last forever.

  “Aren’t you just full of surprises?”

  I poured the red liquid into her glass before doing the same to mine. “I need to be to win your heart.”

  She stared at me as she took a sip of her wine, trying to hide a smile behind her glass. But she couldn’t hide anything from me. I knew her better than she probably knew herself.

  “Unless I already have,” I said, raising my eyebrows. A hint of regret formed in the pit of my stomach, watching as she beamed and gazed at me in a way that only a woman who was falling in love could.

  “As Brayden would say, I’m not saying another word without a lawyer present.” She winked.

  “How long has he been practicing law?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation toward her life and friends.

  “About four years or so. He interned at the firm he’s working at now, so he just stayed on. He was pretty happy they offered him a job after graduation while he prepped for the bar. That doesn’t happen often. He’s one of the few people in his graduating class who actually has a job in the field.”

  “What kind of law does he practice?”

  “Medical malpractice.”

  “And he likes it?”

  Mackenzie shrugged. “It’s a job. It’s probably not what he sees himself doing for the rest of his life but, for now, it pays the bills.”

  “And what does he see himself doing?”

  “Why? Interested in Brayden?” she joked, her lips turning up slightly at the corner. She was relaxed, enjoying the moment, instead of looking toward what was next as she so often did. Her eyes were bold, never breaking from mine for too long.

  “No. But I’m very interested in his friend.” A smile crept across my face, my eyes remaining fixed on hers. This felt so perfect, so normal, so right.

  “Really? Who?” she asked in jest.

  “Ah, you wouldn’t know her.”

  She grabbed an olive from the bowl on the table and popped it in her mouth. “Try me.”

  “Well, she’s brilliant. And beautiful. And she’s painfully aware of both of those facts, which only makes me burn for her a little bit more. She doesn’t play games, as so many other women her age do. She usually knows what she wants.”

  “Usually?” Mackenzie asked, narrowing her eyes at me. “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, see, she sort of has this tick.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “She has this plan for her life that is fairly set in stone. She doesn’t like to leave much to chance, although I’ve been able to persuade her to take a risk over the past few days, and there’s this liveliness to her I didn’t see just a week ago. But, more than likely, she’s going to walk out of my life because she doesn’t think it’s the right time for a relationship. She’s very career-driven, but I just need to find a way to tell her she can have her cake and eat it, too. She can have the ideal job and the man of her dreams.”

  “And you think that’s you?”

  I folded my hands in front of me, bringing them up to my chin as I surveyed her. She was on edge, waiting for my response. Her skin was glowing and her breathing had increased, accenting her rather voluptuous chest. Reaching across the table, I intertwined my fingers with hers.

  “I’m not sure,” I stated, “but it seems like a disservice to not even explore the possibility of the lightning strike.” Narrowing my eyes at her, I asked, “Don’t you think, Mackenzie?”

  She pursed her lips, considering my words. I wished I knew what she was thinking, but as a brilliant smile crossed her face, I knew exactly what was going through her head.

  “You’re damn smooth, you know that?”

  “I’m just honest.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spied a short, dark-haired and olive-toned woman walk onto the deck, carrying a tray. “Ah, perfect. Hope you’re hungry. Mackenzie, this is Elena. She works for me at the club and agreed to cook for us tonight.”

  “Hola,” she said in greeting, nodding at Elena.

  “Hola, señorita.” She placed a bowl in front of Mackenzie before placing one in front of me. “Sancocho, sir, as you requested.” She bowed and retreated from us.

  Mackenzie glanced at me. “Sancocho?” Her eyes widened and I could see a slight trembling in her chin. This was not the reaction I was expecting. Her formerly happy and brilliant expression turned troubled, as if recalling hundreds of happy memories that made her heart ache.

  “I’m sorry, Mackenzie,” I offered, reaching across the table and grabbing her hand in mine once more. “You mentioned how your mom taught you how to cook and was from Panama. I figured you’d enjoy it. The last thing I wanted was to bring up what happened to−”

  “No,” she said, straightening her spine, taking a deep breath. She met my eyes. “It’s very thoughtful. And, as much as I miss my mom, it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. I have a new family. Brayden and Jenna are my family now.”

  “And don’t forget Meatball.”

 
She giggled. “How could I? He certainly won’t let me. Or he won’t let me forget to feed him anyway.”

  She raised her spoon to her mouth, moaning as she tasted the soup.

  “Good?” I asked.

  “Better than good. If making this doesn’t get you laid, nothing will.” She beamed, spooning more soup into her mouth in a delicate and gentile way.

  I laughed a genuine laugh. There was something about her carefree demeanor at that moment in time that made her appear as more a friend or lover than an asset. I hated that she was an asset.

  “So, tell me about Griffin,” she said.

  “My sister-in-law was worried about me moving down here and away from family, and came home from the shelter with him one day. She said he’d be perfect for me. At first, I couldn’t believe she’d honestly think I’d like anything other than a big dog, but Griffin, well… She was right. He’s perfect. He wobbles and can be a little overbearing, but he’s the perfect dog…even though he drools and has the worst breath imaginable.”

  “Is it that bad?” She looked up from her soup, meeting my eyes.

  “Just wait. You’ll find out. Or I hope you will.” I winked.

  “Are you close to your family?” she asked, brushing off my last statement. “It sounds like you are.”

  “I am.”

  “Who’s the oldest of your siblings? Alex?” She grabbed her wine glass and took a long gulp.

  “No. Carol.”

  “Does she work with your brother?”

  “Not really,” I said quickly, wanting to steer the conversation away from the company.

  “Why?”

  “When I said older, she’s much older. She’s seventeen years older than he is, and twenty-six years older than me. Carol was a bit of a mistake, and I have a feeling I was, too. Anyway, she’s retired now. She was a detective on the Boston police force and is now more of a liaison between the police and the company.”

  “Hmmm,” she said. “A liaison. What exactly does that consist of?”

  “That’s classified.” I winked.

  Rolling her eyes, she took the last spoonful of her soup. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard, but I’ll let you get away with it.”

  She leaned back in her chair, sipping on her wine. A gentle breeze blew in, her hair waving in front of her face, and I saw something I hadn’t noticed before… Promise. There was a calmness about her and it gave me hope that it would all work out in the end.

  “Now, parents still in the picture?” she asked, digging deeper into my family history.

  “My mom is. My father died when I was a teenager.”

  “And what does mom do these days?”

  “The usual, I suppose. She’s on the east coast, so she spends a lot of time with my niece.”

  “Oh, you have a niece?”

  “Yes,” I said softly. “My brother’s daughter.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Five-and-a-half.”

  A wide smile crossed Mackenzie’s face and it looked so natural, as if she was generally happy and not trying to force it. “Your brother and sister-in-law must have their hands full then.”

  “She’s definitely a handful,” I admitted, smiling fondly when I thought of the games we would play together, her insistent prodding that I use my less-than-stellar drawing skills to sketch whatever she wanted me to. “She’s very spirited and full of life. She likes to bounce.”

  “Bounce?”

  “Yup. On the trampoline. But the way she says it, she makes it sound like she needs to or her world will end.”

  Mackenzie laughed. “That’s adorable. I’d love to meet her one day.” She took a quick inhale of air as she realized what she had just said. “I mean…,” she floundered.

  “Come to Boston with me next weekend,” I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could really consider the possible ramifications.

  “Tyler,” she began, her face growing weary, “I said I’d like to meet your niece one day. You don’t know me. And meeting the family so soon? That’s a big step.”

  “Perhaps, but I want you to be a part of my life, if you choose. And part of that is meeting my family. Plus, there’s this thing at my dad’s alma mater next weekend. My family has always been big donors to their Criminology Department and they’re honoring my father posthumously by naming the Criminology center after him. I wasn’t going to attend, but if you’d like to go, my mother would be forever in your debt and you’d have an automatic spot at the top of her favorites list.”

  “Really? Why’s that?”

  “Because you’d be responsible for bringing her baby boy back home.” I gave her a devilish smile. “I promise it’ll be fun. I’ll show you around Boston and take you to some fantastic old bars.”

  “I’ve always wanted to go to Boston.”

  I grabbed a piece of bread from the basket on the table and popped it into my mouth. “Then it’s settled. Next weekend, you’re mine.”

  “Let’s not make any big plans just yet,” she said lightly. “You still have some wooing to do, don’t you?”

  I reached across the table and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, my finger lingering on her face for a brief moment. “I’ve only just begun, mi cariño.”

  Mackenzie

  “I DON’T THINK I could eat another bite,” I said, rubbing my stomach. Tyler’s attention to detail completely blew me away, as if he had been in the kitchen with my mother all those years as she taught me the recipes her mother had handed down. Sancocho. Corvina. Flan. Our meal was absolutely decadent.

  “I hope you enjoyed it,” Tyler said, taking a sip from his glass of brandy.

  “That’s the understatement of the year,” I replied, beaming. “What’s next?”

  I threw my napkin onto the table and stared at him with eagerness. There was a spark in the air. The entire evening just oozed romance and I wanted nothing more than to see what else he had planned, although I hoped whatever it was would lead us to the bedroom very soon.

  “You don’t like to simply enjoy the moment, do you?”

  Surprised by his statement, I opened my mouth to defend myself. “I−”

  “Don’t even try to deny it, Mackenzie,” he interrupted. “I’ve gotten to know you fairly well over the past few days. You despise the unexpected. It’s probably killing you that you have no idea what I have planned for you next. Can’t we just enjoy each other’s company and not worry about what the future holds? If you keep looking too far ahead, you could miss what’s right in front of you.”

  “You sound like Richard,” I said, a pout on my face.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Jenna’s husband.”

  “I didn’t realize she was married.” He took another sip of his brandy and I knew he was trying to drag it out. I was so tense, a bundle of nerves badly needing some sort of reassurance that I would walk off the boat tomorrow morning completely satisfied. At this point, I needed Tyler in the worst way, and I think he knew it. So I did what any mature twenty-six-year-old woman would do. I decided to beat him at his own game and prove to him I could live in the moment and not rush to what was next on his agenda.

  Leaning back and relaxing into my chair, I said, “Yes. They married almost a year ago. It was a bit of a whirlwind romance, but I guess when you know, you know. He’s much older than she is, but she has an old soul.”

  “Like you,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

  “Really? You think I have an old soul?”

  “I do.” He stood up and took a few steps toward where I sat, holding his hand out to me. “Ready for what’s next?” He winked.

  “And what would that be?” I grabbed his hand and before I knew what was happening, my body was enclosed in his arms, his warmth surrounding me.

  “Whatever you want,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Really?” I tilted my head back, peering into his eyes.

  “Yes. So tell me…” His voice was soft, his hands roaming my body and sendi
ng bolts of anticipation deep to my core. “What do you want, Mackenzie?”

  I melted into him, whimpering with each brush of his fingers on my skin. He was a sculptor and I a pile of clay for him to mold into whatever he wanted. I used to know exactly what I wanted in my life but, over the past few days, none of that mattered anymore. There was only one thing I wanted now.

  “You,” I replied without a moment’s hesitation.

  His hands continued traveling the contours of my body, each touch exciting, provocative, and completely new as I lost myself in the moment. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I wasn’t thinking about what the following day, or even hour, would bring. All thoughts were of what Tyler’s hands were doing at that precise moment.

  Grabbing my hair, he forcefully pulled my head back, an inferno stirring in my stomach from the depth of emotion I saw in his eyes. There was a fierceness mixed with tenderness and devotion. He was my mystery man. My beautiful, conflicted, confusing mystery man.

  “Kiss me,” I begged and he didn’t move. He kept me trapped, his grip on my hair tightening. I swallowed hard, never feeling so vulnerable and so safe at the same time. For a lingering moment, I thought he would release me and leave forever.

  Finally, he lowered his mouth to mine and our lips met, the kiss soft and timid. I sighed into him, a small moan escaping my throat. I had been needing that kiss all night, fantasizing about it.

  “I love the taste of your lips,” he murmured, pulling away from my mouth and nuzzling my neck. His teeth dug into my skin, reminding me of his duplicitous personality. Soft but forceful. Loving but dominant. Gentle but powerful.

  “Tyler…,” I exhaled, lost in sensation as his tongue grazed my neck.

  “Yes?” He raised his eyes to look at me.

  “I need you.” I gripped his tie, bringing his mouth back to mine.