"Okay, what's going on?" she demanded to Benz.
"Why, nothing, honey."
"The house is all lit up like a Christmas tree. And you know how zealous y'all are about security, yet I can see the front door's ajar—"
"Well, there's probably a good reason Martha left the door open. Martha probably just left a few seconds ago, and she knew we were overdue. But if Mac wasn't home yet, she wouldn't want you coming into a dark house, and she knows what a hard time you have with the security system."
"Uh-huh. Sounds like bologna to me, but it's obvious I'm not going to get a straight answer out of you, so we'll just settle this tomorrow." Kelly smacked his cheek goodbye, then heaved out of the car and waddled to the front door. She'd just stepped in and kicked off her right boot when a chorus of feminine voices suddenly yelled, "Surprise!"
She was half braced for something, and Benz wouldn't have been so happily playing around if the "something" had been a problem. Still, she'd never expected anything like a surprise baby shower. Familiar faces swarmed in front of her. Her friend Mollie. Kate. Renee. Chloe, Mac's sister, dressed so typically in a flamboyant purple that matched her incredible violet eyes. Amanda Corbain, who worked in marketing with Mac's cousin Jack, and had become a wonderful friend at work. Marie, Mac's aunt, who did the matriarchal thing on her side of the family the way Kate did with her side of the clan.
Red faced and laughing, Kelly tried to express thanks as the group descended on her. The next couple of hours were a fast ride. The Fortunes never did anything halfway. A buffet feast had been catered in, with an ice sculpture for a centerpiece in the shape of a Pooh bear, and the presents crowding Mac's great room were beyond generous—a crib, high chair, stroller, car seat and heaven knew, toys ranging from sterling-silver rattles to a four-foot white teddy bear. After that came gifts for the mom—a day at the spa, luxury creams for stretch marks, lingerie for when she got her figure back that made her blush.
Kelly felt so overwhelmed that she felt tears well a couple of times, which only pleased her shower givers no end. By the time the gifts were all opened, the house looked destroyed. Wrapping paper and debris littered every surface. At least one cider and coffee had spilled. Plates cluttered the tables. And the women had all gotten fresh drinks and settled down to talk.
"I don't know how to thank you all. I never expected anything like this," Kelly said emotionally.
"Nonsense, dear, you're family now." Kate's eyes crinkled in a smile. "And we grilled Mac so we'd know what colors you wanted to put in the nursery—"
"He also filled us in on our addition to teddy bears," Amanda teased.
"I want credit for the lingerie ideas." Marie sighed. Mac's Aunt Marie was the matriarch on one side of the Fortune family—but a little vintage only sharpened the lively sparkle in her eyes. "You young girls dress way too much in jeans. I realize I'm getting older, but I don't think this younger generation has a clue how to keep a marriage together. A little black lace and candlelight never hurt a thing."
The women hooted. "I guess we know why Stuart never strayed all those years, huh, Marie?"
"Heavens, no. Stuart wouldn't stray because he knows perfectly well I'd murder him if he tried," Marie said dryly.
In the midst of all the laughter, Kelly saw Mollie suddenly turn pale and leave the room. Concerned, Kelly started to rise to go after her friend, but just then Mac's sister waved her hands to get the group's attention.
"Well, while we're talking about sex and what it takes to keep a marriage together, it seems a pretty good time to make an announcement." Chloe, curled up in the corner of the pink couch, and humorously popped a ribbon on her head. "Before Mason and I turn this into the longest engagement in history, we finally got around to setting a date. The marriage is on for November."
The whole group exuberantly congratulated her, but Kelly couldn't help but notice that everyone seemed happier than Chloe. "What made you suddenly decide to set the date?"
"I dunno. It just seemed time. At the rate we've been moving, we could have been engaged forever."
"Which might be best if you're not sure," Kate said shrewdly.
"I'm dead sure. I've been crazy about that man from the day I met him. Mason's just … well, on some things, he's hard to pin down. Typical man, huh?" Chloe's words were light, but her tone so unexpectedly serious that the others fell silent, as if sensing there was a problem she wasn't saying. Swiftly Chloe grinned and waved her hands in a dismissive gesture. "And enough on that. Let's turn the attention back on Kelly. I want to hear how she's surviving marriage to my big brother—does he or doesn't he take off those starched shirts when the lights go out?"
"Honestly, Chloe, you don't have to be so blunt," Marie scolded.
"Aw, come on. You're all wondering the same thing. We all know about the baby, Kel, but there always had to be more to this. Mac's been allergic to marriage forever. He never let a woman get close. Hells bells, he never let any of the family all that close, either. None of us could ever get him to talk."
"Like his cousin Jack," Amanda said irritably. "I work with that man every day and still can't get a personal word out of him."
"That's different, though. Jack only turned quiet after the divorce. Mac's never been burned by anyone—at least that he's told family, even me." Chloe turned to Kelly. "We all love him, Kel I don't know any member of the family that he hasn't come through for sometime. So maybe we do pry a little far, but it's because we want him to be happy. We want you to be happy, too. We wouldn't be asking questions if we didn't care."
They could hire out as an inquisition team, Kelly thought. The nosy, poking questions kept coming, and so did some astounding advice on how she should handle Mac. Another hour passed, yet no one made a move to leave. For a few minutes she escaped to the bathroom, but en route through the kitchen, she found Mollie, neck deep in plastic bogs and paper plates. "Hey, you. Kate said the catering service would show up in the morning to clean up. You don't have to do that."
"You know me. I can't sit," Mollie said with a grin.
Kelly studied her friend. "Yeah, I know you. And the way you disappeared, I was afraid you were ill or something was wrong—"
"No, no, I'm fine."
Kelly poured a short glass of milk as an excuse to linger. Mac and her new marriage had dominated her whole life, but she hadn't meant to neglect her old friend, and Mollie didn't look remotely "fine." Her pale skin was always striking against her vibrant red hair, but tonight her complexion looked paper-white. The five year age difference had made them unlikely friends growing up, but they practically lived next door, and both their moms were single parents. Because Mollie's mother worked long hours running a flower shop, Kelly often baby-sat or just hung around so Mol wouldn't be alone. But the thing was, she'd always had a protective older sister feeling for her friend, and now was no different "Something's bothering you."
"Yeah, there is." Mollie admitted it, but then hesitated. "It's just something personal I'm trying to work out, Kel. I'm not trying to be secretive. I just want to work through it on my own before talking about it."
Kelly could understand that, but her friend's choice of silence only made the problem sound bigger and more worrisome. "Is this something related to why you left in the middle of the reception? You never really said, Mol, and I was worried something had happened then, too. I was hoping you'd make a ton of good contacts to get your wedding-planner business going—"
"And it worked out great that way," Mollie assured her, but she averted her eyes. "And the reason I left … well, it was losing Mom so recently. It all just got to me, that she'd never see me married, never know I was finally really putting my business together, either. I just had a big, lousy attack of sadness, that's all. But by the time I came back inside, you and Mac were gone…" Swiftly she changed the subject. "Whew, can those women dish out the third degree or what? I could hear some of the questions they were asking you from here."
"I don't think there was a shy Fortune eve
r born, but I know them all now. They're all coming from caring."
"Yeah, I can see that. But man, are they nosy." Mollie hesitated. "And you weren't answering any of their questions, but there's only you and me here now. And I know how busy you've been, but you haven't told me one thing about how you two really got together. I mean, do you love him? Does he love you? How do both of you feel about this baby being his brother's?"
More questions. And Kelly loved her friend, had come to love many of the Fortune women as if they were real family, too. But she wasn't willing to discuss her relationship with Mac with anyone. Her feelings were both too private and too confused. And although she was increasingly scared that she was falling dangerously in love with him, it struck her sense of irony that he was one person in the universe she really wanted to be with. Mac never pushed or pressured her about anything. There was a time she'd never dreamed she could be comfortable with the formidable Mackenzie Fortune, but he'd never been formidable with her. She could be herself with him. The only thing she had to guard against were those loving feelings, but everything else—her nurturing nature and emotional impulsiveness, every flaw and foible right down to her hopelessness near anything electronic—Mac had been more accepting of her than she'd ever been of herself.
She rejoined the party, pulling Mollie back into the group with her, laughing and chatting with the women no different than before. They told her Mac had orders to stay away and leave them to their "girl fest." Still, the instant she heard the click of the front door around eight, the muffled sound was enough to make her spring to her feet and fly for the door. She was vaguely aware that the women abruptly quit talking. She wasn't thinking about them; she was just thinking how glad she was to see him. And when Mac stomped in, his shoulders and head sprinkled with a fresh layer of snow, it seemed the most natural thing on earth to throw her arms around him.
* * *
Chapter 6
«^»
Mac had explicit orders from the women not to show up at this shower shindig until after nine. Originally he thought he'd be thrilled to comply. He ordered some fast food, looking forward to the quiet hours after the employees had gone home to make a serious dent in his overflowing desk. Only he couldn't seem to concentrate on work. He kept worrying how it was going for Kelly.
He had no doubt the all-female party would be great fun for her, but her pregnancy was the thing. Every day she got closer to term, the faster she tired out. And when she got tired, a puff of wind could make her tearful. Mac's women kin were another worry—he loved them; they were family, but they did have a teensy tendency to be unilaterally domineering. He just figured it would be a good idea for him to come home early, tiptoe in, sneak a peek to make sure it was all going okay for her and then disappear upstairs until the shower thing was all over.
That was the new plan, and Mac could have sworn he was quieter than a guilty teenager when he opened the front door. The women had all hid their cars beyond the garage, so Kelly wouldn't see them, and he parked even further back to give them turnaround room in the driveway, but by then it was snowing in buckets. Even in that short walk to the door, his cheeks were burning from the fierce wind and snow already soaking his hair and coat … and suddenly there she was, hurtling around the corner with her arms outstretched. "Mac! You're home!"
He barely had a second to brace. He should have. When his bride got it in her head that she wanted a hug, Mac already knew well that she wasn't one to wait around until next Tuesday to think it over. Faster than a jet-propelled missile, she exuberantly flew into his arms, tummy first, and suddenly she was snuggled against the length of him.
That suddenly, he was in trouble.
After the razor-blast of frigid night air, she felt warmer than firelight, softer than sunshine. She smelled so good; she felt so good that his arms instinctively tightened around her. He was hard in two seconds flat—and Mac had been trying to tell himself all week that was a justifiable biological response for a man who'd been celibate too long. Only he'd been celibate for stretches before and never once responded to any other woman the way he did Kelly.
It was like a chocoholic who caught a whiff of the finest chocolate. He was becoming addicted. He had no idea where the craving first came from, but that wreath of a welcoming smile—no one had ever been glad to see Mac, not like her, not like she was just "happy." That he was in her universe. She liked being with him—for no reason in hell that he could tell—but it sucker-punched his emotions every time. Her smiles, her skin, those butter-soft blue eyes, the feel of her slim-boned shoulders in his arms and the baby tucked between them…
He found his mouth pressing into her hair before he could stop it. She must have felt that kiss, because she suddenly lifted her head. Warning sirens screeched in his mind. She searched his face, and damned if he knew what she saw, but as if he'd said "please," she surged up on tiptoe and kissed him, her lips tremulous and vibrant and satin-smooth.
It wasn't the first time electric awareness had sparked between them like a power surge. It wasn't the first time his mind had fast-roiled a fantasy of carrying her off to bed and to hell with the consequences. Her fingers clenched at the back of his head and her lips moved against his, softly, shyly, like a rosebud opening for a drink of sunlight. He'd known women, a ton of women, a ton of skilled and erotically sophisticated women who had never once provoked him to murder and mayhem. It was something about Kelly that bewitched him. He could taste her vulnerability. He could taste the invitation in the way she kissed him. He could imagine all that warmth, wrapped around him, could imagine all that exuberance and giving and all that passion for life, just for him.
A dozen times Mac had reminded himself that his brother was in this picture and he'd be a fool to forget that. He hadn't forgotten. It was just that she was so increasingly hard to let go of. If the crazy magic she generated wasn't real, it felt perfectly, painfully, treasuringly real when she was in his arms and kissing him back as if nothing and no one mattered but the two of them.
Eventually his conscience pierced through all those greedy emotions and finally surfaced. Honor mattered. Not just to him, but for her. Kelly needed him. This whole marriage had been put together because Kelly needed a man she could trust. And the more he came to care for her, the more it mattered to Mac that he couldn't, wouldn't, fail her. So he severed the kiss slowly, not loosening his arms too far, not wanting her to feel rejected or worried about trusting him. And he smiled, as if desire wasn't biting at his nerves with sharp teeth, as if need weren't still thrumming in his veins in a hot rush of blood. And his smile became real after a moment. This morning he'd left her looking so crisp and put-together in a pale blue maternity dress. Now, though, her collar was askew, a ribbon dangling from her shoulder, and her hair looked wildly tumbled, silk-fine strands flying every which way. "I take it you've been having a terrific time at the shower?"
"Oh, Mac, I couldn't wait for you to get home so I could tell you. You wouldn't believe—"
She bubbled over with the details, giving him another few seconds to gather his wits—and his conscience—and suck up that need for her. But he was just plucking the ribbon from her shoulder when he suddenly realized they weren't alone.
It looked like the entire shower of women was standing in the doorway, as silent as statues, all staring at his arms around Kelly and grinning at him like female goons.
He never had to move from the front door, because the crowd cleared out faster than a marine bivouac. He delivered coats and extensive thanks, accepted cheek pats and mauling from his female relatives and more of those all-knowing female smiles.
When the last one left, he ambled with Kelly into the living room. One glance and he stopped dead. "Holy cow."
She laughed. "Pretty petrifying mess, huh? But we don't have to worry about it. Your aunts said it was part of the catering service deal to come back in the morning and clean up."
"You sure it wouldn't just be easier to have the place condemned and move? I'm almost posi
tive we have insurance for natural disasters like this."
She chuckled again, and excitedly dragged him around for a tour of all the presents. It took a while. Eventually he settled in the corner of the pink couch with his feet up—it had been a killer long day, and somebody needed to enjoy the big thick cushions of the couch. Kelly hadn't sat in the thing since he'd moved it in here. She said it ruined his decor. Mac contended that it was the most comfortable piece of furniture either of them owned. So far that was an unsolved argument, but at that moment, he primarily crashed to encourage her to get off her feet, too. He knew she had to be tired. "You're telling me one small, eight-pound baby has to have approximately three hundred pounds of stuff just to survive a basic day?"
"I was informed that we hadn't even started. Although I can't imagine anything they didn't think of. You really do have an incredibly wonderful family." He should have known she was still too revved up to settle down. After dancing through the boxes and papers again, she hunched over the high chair carton. An instruction sheet emerged. Followed by terrifying little bags of screws and spare parts. "The family has some funny ideas about you, though."
"Funny ideas? Like what?"
"I got a lot of advice. On your likes and dislikes. How to keep you happy. They think you have a temper, Mac."
"Uh, Tiny. I do." A couple of wooden legs emerged from the carton. The more parts showed up, the more his throat went dry. "You're not planning on putting that together at this minute, are you?"
"Sure. It says, 'Easy To Assemble.' But we'll need both a regular and a Phillips head screwdriver—you sit, I know where everything is." She jogged to the kitchen, came back juggling tools and two glass mugs of mulled cider. "And I'm not through telling you all your family's advice. Chloe informed me that it was important for me to start doing some serious entertaining. Your sister says you have to do all kinds of social things for the company, and any woman in your life had better clue in to that ambitious, social kind of thing."
THE HONOR BOUND GROOM Page 8
