by Marie Force
Jet-black hair that curled over his collar, bright blue eyes, broad shoulders, defined pecs… After the way she'd ogled him in school, she couldn't believe she hadn't recognized him instantly. No, she'd had just enough time to call his parents bastards before she put two and two together to get Mac McCarthy.
Except for the dark circles under his eyes and the grayish tone to his complexion, the man was utter perfection. She knew from Mrs. McCarthy, who bragged about her five darlings incessantly, that Mac lived in South Florida. You'd never know it to look at him.
Back when he'd been five years ahead of her in school, he'd never even known she was alive. And now, the first time he saw her, really saw her, he got a full view of the bane of her existence—her overly large breasts. She wanted to die just thinking about it. Maddie wished she could either disappear or find a way to make Mac McCarthy and his big, hulking presence go away.
She opened her eyes. Still there. Still hovering. Still gorgeous. "You don't have to hang out," she said. "I can take it from here."
"I'll see you home."
"That's not necessary."
"It's my fault this happened—"
"I hit you."
"Because I stepped in front of you."
"You got hit by the bike, Mac?" Libby asked, turning to him. "Let me see."
Mac turned his leg to show a huge bruise forming on his calf.
Both women gasped.
"It's nothing." Mac stood and put his backpack on. "If you're ready," he said to Maddie, "I'll take you home."
"And how do you plan to do that?"
"I'll carry you."
"What if I live on the other side of the island?"
"I'll get a cab."
"I don't need you to take custody of me! I'll figure something out the same way I always do."
Mac leaned in so his face was inches from hers. "You're injured because of me, and I'm going to help you. Now, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. What's it going to be?"
The air crackled between them as they stared each other down.
"You've got a lot of your mother in you, huh?"
He glowered at her. "Now you're just being mean."
"I've, ah, got to get back to work," Libby said. "Come in for lunch while you're home, Mac."
"I will. Thanks for your help, Lib," Mac said without looking away from Maddie.
When they were alone, Maddie said, "You think just because you're a mighty McCarthy everyone has to do what you say, don't you?"
"I don't know what my family has done to piss you off, but since I haven't lived here in almost twenty years, I'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with me."
She attempted to cross her arms in impatience and grimaced at the pain that radiated from her elbow. For a brief, sickening second, she wondered if she had broken it. Then it finally gave way and bent the way it was supposed to. All she could think about was how much money this lost day of work was going to cost her, if it didn't cost her the job itself.
"What's it going to be? I can stay right here all day." He leaned against the edge of Libby's desk. "I'm on vacation."
Oh! He's so sanctimonious and infuriating! "Fine! If you have some sort of macho need to see this through to the gruesome finish, you can take me home, but for the love of God, take me out the back door so I'm not any more of a public spectacle."
"Fine."
"Fine."
Mac scooped her up and gave her a moment to get her injured arm and leg settled. "Okay?"
"Yeah," she said, releasing a long deep breath.
While she once again hid her face against his faded yellow T-shirt, he carried her through the lobby and out the back door. He smelled of sporty deodorant and laundry detergent, and his steady heartbeat echoed in her ear. Too bad he was a McCarthy. Otherwise, she might be tempted to forget about her no-men-ever-again policy.
Maddie directed him through a series of pathways behind the buildings that made up downtown Gansett.
"I used to play cops and robbers with my brothers back here."
"I used to drag trash bags heavier than I was to the Dumpsters when my mother worked at these places." She let her gaze travel up over the strong column of his neck to focus on his jaw, which seemed tense. Maddie wondered what it would be like to trail her lips along his whisker-sprinkled jaw…
He glanced down to catch her studying him. "What?"
Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. "Nothing." After a long pause, she said, "Your leg has to be hurting. Why don't you put me down? I can walk." He surprised her when he did as she asked. The sudden weight on her injured knee sent pain shooting through her, and she cried out from the shock of it.
"Have we proven that you could use a lift?"
A surge of nausea took her breath away. "Yes," she whispered. "Please."
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, surprising her again with the tender gesture. "I'm really sorry this happened."
Maddie ventured a glance up at him and swallowed hard, taken aback by his intense gaze. "I know you are."
"I'll make it up to you."
"You don't have to. It was an accident."
"An accident that was my fault." He lifted her carefully and once again gave her a minute to settle her injured limbs before continuing on.
Maddie directed him to her apartment over Tiffany's studio.
"Isn't this the Sturgil place?" Mac asked.
She nodded. "My sister Tiffany is married to Jim Sturgil." As they reached the foot of her stairs, Maddie realized that her purse was still attached to the wrecked bike. "My bag! I never got it off the bike. My wallet, keys—"
"Take it easy." He carried her up the stairs to her door. "I'll track it down for you."
Maddie tried to remember how much cash she'd had in her wallet. Twenty, maybe thirty dollars, but she needed every one of them. "The door isn't locked," she told him.
Somehow he managed to carry her, open the door and get her inside without causing her any additional pain. She watched him take a quick survey of the small space and felt her defenses rise. No doubt he was used to much better, but she refused to be ashamed of the home she'd put together for herself and her son.
His eyes landed and settled on the baby toys stacked in the corner. "You're a mom?"
"My son Thomas is nine months old."
He lowered her to the tattered sofa she'd bought at a yard sale. "Where is he?"
"My sister watches him during the day. Oh God. The kids."
"Excuse me?"
"I take over for my sister at the daycare at three so she can teach her dance classes. She watches Thomas for me, and that's how I pay her back."
"I'll do it."
"What?"
"I'll watch the kids for you. How hard can it be?"
"Have you ever even changed a diaper?"
"I'm sure I have. Some time."
"Right. Look, I know you're probably some sort of Boy Scout—"
"Actually, I'm an Eagle Scout," he said with a proud smile.
"Of course you are, but you've really got to go now. Your family is expecting you—"
"They didn't know I was coming today."
Maddie wanted to shriek in frustration. Why couldn't he get the message and leave me alone? And then it hit her in a wave of sickening despair. "It's not going to happen," she spat at him.
"What are you talking about now?"
"Get out of my cabinets! What're you doing?"
"Looking for some painkillers and a glass." He produced a bottle of medicine and a glass of water and brought both to her.
"Thank you," she muttered after she swallowed the pills. "Now, please, just go, will you?"
But of course he sat on the coffee table, and Maddie prayed the flimsy table would hold his two-hundred-pounds-of-pure-muscle frame. "So what's not going to happen?"
"I know what you're after." She wanted to smack the amused expression off his face.
"And what's that?"
"You think if you're nice to me that you'l
l get something in return."
Amusement faded to bafflement. "Like what?"
"Don't be obtuse. I know you got a good look out there on the street, so you're hanging around hoping to get your hands—among other things—on Maddie Chester's famous breasts."
He stared at her for a long, breathless moment. "That is so not true."
"And how are you different from every other man alive?"
"When I look at you, the first thing I see are gorgeous eyes that remind me of the way melted caramel looks over vanilla ice cream. They're a rather interesting combination of brown and gold. Your mouth, when it's not twisted with cynicism and bitterness, is so lush and pretty that my personal fantasies—if I had them about you, that is—would definitely be focused there, not on what's under your T-shirt. As spectacular as they may be, I'm more of an ass-and-leg man myself."
Maddie had never been more shocked in her life—or more seduced by words alone.
"Now that we've got that subject covered, let's talk money."
That brought her right back to reality. "What about it?"
"I want to pay for your lost wages."
"Absolutely not." She might be short on cash, but she still had her pride, and no one—especially someone named McCarthy—was going to take that from her.
"You have to let me help you, Maddie. I know you can't afford to miss work."
"That's the least of it! If I miss more than one shift, they'll replace me. They need the job done. They don't care who does it."
"I believe we've established that I have some sway with the owners of the hotel and can prevent that from happening."
"Good for you. That still doesn't get my job done, and it won't help me when they decide who they're keeping for the winter and who gets laid off."
"Then I'll do the job for you until you're back on your feet."
Maddie cracked up. "Sure you will."
"You don't think I can do it?"
She realized he was serious. "You have no idea what it even entails. How can you be so sure you can do it?"
"I'm capable of building a thirty-story structure. I think I can handle cleaning a few hotel rooms."
Maddie studied his supremely handsome face. "All right." What else could she do? She couldn't afford to lose her job, so she had no choice but to let him help her. "Since you seem determined to make it up to me, I accept."
He flashed a victorious smile. "Excellent. Now what about the kids? Could I be your arms and legs there, too?"
"Have you ever changed a diaper? Seriously?"
"No," he confessed, quickly adding, "but I'm a fast learner. If you tell me what to do, I'll do it."
He'd be saving her life if he stepped in for her, but wait until he saw what the summer people were capable of doing to a hotel room. Just the idea of a mighty McCarthy stooping to the level of manual laborer at the hotel his family owned brought a smile to her face. She offered her uninjured hand. "Deal."
He shocked her again when he took her hand and brushed a soft kiss over the back of it. "Excellent. Now, let me go find your purse and see about getting you some lunch."
Chapter 2
Mac left his backpack at Maddie's apartment and headed into town in search of her purse. He thought about the hour he'd spent with her and the terrible beating his ego had taken. Not that he was a playboy or anything, but as a rule, he tended to be quite popular with women. He'd never met one so eager to be rid of him. And what could she possibly have against his parents? They ran a decent business and took care of their employees—at least he thought they did.
To be honest, he had no clue how their business—which had grown exponentially since Mac left the island—was run today. However, he planned to find out, and if Maddie's opinion was to be believed, he might not like what he discovered.
Mac wasn't surprised to find Maddie's mangled bike propped against a split-rail fence across the street from the Sand 'n Sea novelty shop. Someone had used the cabbage roses growing through the fence to camouflage the bike. Her purse was still sitting in the basket that hung from what used to be the handlebars. He opened her battered wallet to find a twenty, a five and several ones still tucked inside. The sight of the undisturbed cash filled him with an odd sense of homecoming. In Miami, the purse, the cash and what was left of the bike would probably be long gone by now.
Tucking her small purse into the tote bag, he tossed the mangled bike into a Dumpster and planned to get her a new one.
Twenty minutes later, he returned to her apartment bearing cheeseburgers, fries and sodas. On the way upstairs, it occurred to him that she might be a vegetarian like Roseanne. Mac sighed. He was so tired of difficult, hard-to-please women. Could he, just once, encounter one who ate like a normal human being?
At the top of the stairs, he paused, uncertain as to whether or not he should knock, since she expected him to return. Then, remembering how prickly she'd been earlier, he rapped on the door and stepped into the living room to find the sofa empty.
"Maddie?" He listened for a moment, worried that she might have tried to venture out on her own. "Maddie?"
A muffled sound from behind a closed door caught his attention. He put the food and her bag on the kitchen table and went to the door. Knocking softly, he said, "Maddie, are you okay?"
"Will you please just go away and leave me alone?"
"Why don't you come out here and we'll talk about whatever's bothering you?"
No reply.
"I got you something to eat. Come on out, Maddie."
More silence.
He waited another minute before he knocked again.
The door clicked open, and she stared at him through tear-reddened eyes. Something odd and curious twisted deep inside him at the sight of her ravaged face. In that moment, he realized this was not going to be the stress-free vacation his doctor had ordered.
"Are you in pain?" he asked, alarmed by her distress.
"It's better since I took the pills." She took a step and grimaced.
"Let me help you."
Every muscle in her body tensed as he lifted her. Once she was pressed against him, she relaxed into his embrace. Her hair brushed against his face, and he absorbed the bewitching scent of summer flowers.
"W-what're you doing?"
"Nothing." He snapped out of the trance, carried her to the sofa and sat next to her. "How about you tell me what's got you so upset—other than the obvious, that is."
"Why do you care?"
Good question. "If I hadn't stepped off a curb into your path, you'd be at work rather than crying in your apartment."
"It was an accident. No one expects you to fix everything."
"We've already agreed that I'm going to help you until you're back on your feet, so why don't you start by telling me what's wrong."
As if it was taking too much effort to hold up her head, Maddie leaned it back against the sofa and expelled a long sigh. Her weary resignation tugged at him and made him want to fix her every problem—even the ones that weren't his fault. "I don't know how I'm going to take care of Thomas in this condition," she said in a small voice. "Ever since he came along, I've worried obsessively about losing my job and not being able to take care of him. I never imagined I'd get hurt so badly—"
"I'll take care of him. Whatever he needs, I'll do it."
She turned her head so she could see his face and maybe gauge his sincerity.
Their eyes connected, and Mac again felt the impact ricochet through him. He couldn't look away. Unable to resist the overwhelming urge to touch her, to offer comfort, he brushed the hair back from her tear-stained face and dallied longer than he'd intended when his fingers sank into the fine silken strands.
"I don't want you to worry about anything."
Her eyebrows knitted with confusion. "Why?"
He combed his fingers through her hair, no longer because it was in her face but because he liked the thickness and texture. "I don't know," he said, bewildered by the undeniable pull.
; The statement hung in the charged air between them. With every cell in his body fully aware of her, he couldn't recall a single other instance in his life when he'd been as powerfully drawn to another human being.
She licked her lips but didn't look away.
Fascinated by the play of her tongue over her plump bottom lip, he shifted to hide his arousal.
"This isn't going to happen," she said.
"So you've mentioned."
"I'm not interested."
His fingertips skimmed over her cheek.
A sharp intake of breath made a liar out of her.
"Okay," he said. His face hovered half an inch from hers. "Maddie?"
Her lips parted, almost begging him to take what he knew she wanted as much as he did, even if she'd never admit it. "Your lunch is getting cold."
Glancing at the bag on the table, she broke the spell.
An odd twinge of disappointment warred with relief. Just as well. He had no business wondering what it would be like to sink into the lush sweetness of her mouth, to run his tongue over that sexy bottom lip, to see her caramel-colored eyes darken with desire…
He helped her get comfortable on the sofa and got up to find plates. "Ketchup?" he asked, glancing back to see her nod. Interesting that the same woman who couldn't tear her eyes off him a minute ago was now having trouble looking at him at all. "I hope you eat meat."
"I'll eat anything."
Mac smiled at the irony. If he wasn't careful, he might just start to like this guarded, closed off, supposedly uninterested woman. "The foil wrappers kept the burgers warm, but the fries are kind of soggy."
"I don't care."
He delivered her plate and sat in a mismatched chair that had been old ten years ago. As they ate in silence, he took a closer look around at the threadbare room. The furniture was worn and battered, but every surface was clean. Other than a few photos of an adorable blond baby posed with another darker-haired baby of about the same age and the toys stacked in the corner, the room contained no further clues to unlock the mystery of Maddie Chester. Who was she? Who'd fathered her child? Where was he now? Did she love him? Did she miss him? Did he help her out financially?
