“Sure thing.” Mac knelt down and held the dustpan in place while Jennifer swept the glass into it. Then he walked over to the tiny trash can by the vanity Rachel and Tom had purchased as a gift and dumped the glass inside.
Jennifer’s mind focused on the tinkling sound of the glass shards hitting the bottom of the trash can. Without warning, an unexpected memory came flooding back.
“Mom? Mommy? I have to go potty!” Jennifer shouted for the fifth time.
She was nine. Their tiny house was cold and dark. She had woken up in the middle of the night and had gone to use the bathroom in the hallway. Only the light was on and the door was shut.
Jennifer walked down to her parents’ bedroom and saw that the bed was still made, not slept in. Then she remembered the fight, the yelling and the accusations. She walked back over to the bathroom door, turned the knob, and slowly pushed the door open. There was her mother’s prone body on the floor, the shattered bathroom mirror, the glass scattered on the white tile, the blood, the blood, and the warm feel of her own urine as it trailed down her leg to form a puddle on the floor.
“Jennifer, are you all right?” Mac asked.
“Huh? Me? I’m fine!” She smiled at him.
“You looked a little pale all of a sudden.”
“You know what might be fun? How about we take Sara shopping! She can pick up a new outfit for her first day of school. Maybe we could even catch a movie. Would you like that, Sara?”
Sara nodded ever so slightly.
“Great!” she said enthusiastically. “Mac, you in?”
“Are you kidding? Of course.”
“We’ll be back in time for you to catch dinner.”
“I was thinking we could do something simple, like burgers on the grill here,” he said.
“You’re not going out with Barbie?”
Mac smiled. This time, he didn’t correct her. “No, blondie. I’d much rather cook burgers tonight for the two of you.”
Chapter Seven
Sara watched, wide-eyed, as her sister slowly shut her bedroom door. Her room was still fairly light since she had opted to leave her curtains and shades open. Her afternoon had been strange and she kept wondering if she were in a dream. Several times during the day she had slipped her hand inside of Jennifer’s and squeezed it. It felt good to feel, to be touched.
She sat up in bed and strained to listen to the soft voices coming from the living room. She sat there for a minute or two, waiting for the inevitable yelling to start, but it didn’t. She let another minute pass and realized she wasn’t able to hear anything anymore. She cursed the almost deafening sound of the pounding of her own heart. Quietly, she climbed out of the bed and tiptoed over to the door to listen. As she walked around the side of her bed the soft heel of her foot came down on a stray shard of glass.
When the scream rang out, followed by the cries of pain, Mac had been in the bathroom. He had removed his T-shirt and was just leaning over to turn on the taps to the shower. In the space of a second or two, both he and Jennifer were in Sara’s room. Mac, who arrived first, flicked on the light switch.
“What happened?” Jennifer ran around to the side of the bed where Sara and Mac were already crouched on the floor.
Sara cried out in agony. “It hurts! It hurts!” She was rocking back and forth, clutching her foot.
“Let me take a look,” Mac said softly.
Sara looked up at him, her eyes still brimming with tears, her lower lip quivering.
Jennifer knelt beside her. “It’s all right, Sara, let Mac look.”
As soon as Sara removed her hands, Jennifer saw it. The jagged piece of glass, covered in blood, was sticking out of the heel of Sara’s foot. Bile rose up in her throat. Suddenly numb, she wondered briefly why the light in the room was fading.
“Jennifer? Jennifer!” she heard Mac calling from a distance. But she was too far away. She couldn’t answer him. Then there was nothing.
Jennifer opened her eyes. Mac was looming over her, concern evident on his face.
“You all right?”
She remembered. “Sara!” Jennifer shouted, alarmed.
“Sara will be fine and so will you,” Mac said. There was a quiet knock on the door. Sara was standing in the doorway, one foot planted firmly on the ground, the second elevated so only her toes were touching.
“Jennifer’s good as new, kiddo. Come and see for yourself if you want.” Mac waved her in. “Don’t get any blood on my bed or Big Sis is likely to faint like a sissy again.”
Jennifer watched in amazement as a slight smile began to form on Sara’s mouth. She walked, hesitantly toward them, holding her tattered stuffed bear by one arm, so it dragged on the floor.
“She spoke.” Jennifer rose up onto her elbows.
“Yelled, actually,” Mac said.
“She was cut—”
Mac nodded his head in Sara’s direction and Jennifer began again. “You were cut, I remember. I’m sorry, Sara. I should have done a better job sweeping up. I’m really sorry about that, and about the fainting too. I’ve…never been good around blood.”
Sara clutched the bear to her chest.
“Are you all right? Did Mac take care of you?” Jennifer asked.
Sara nodded.
Mac reached out and ruffled the girl’s hair. “She’s fine, aren’t you, kiddo?”
“No thanks to me.” Jennifer fought to hold back tears. “What good was I? I’m supposed to be able to take care of her. She needs me and what do I do? I pass out cold! I’m as useless as my mother!”
“You’re not useless and you’re not your mother,” Mac said firmly. “Is she, Sara?”
Sara stepped closer to the bed.
“Climb on up if you want.” Mac patted the space on the other side of Jennifer. “I’ve long dreamt about sharing my bed with two beautiful ladies.”
“Mac!”
“What?” he asked innocently as he lifted Sara up into the air, settling her down between him and Jennifer.
“Are you okay?” Jennifer asked, looking at Sara.
“Yeah.” Sara picked up a strand of Jennifer’s long hair. “You?”
“Yeah.” Jennifer wrapped her arm around her sister. “I just feel stupid. Like I can’t do anything right.”
Sara leaned into her embrace and inhaled deeply. “I feel like that a lot.”
“But you’re a kid.” Jennifer smoothed the child’s hair. You’re not supposed to know how to do stuff.”
Sara released a yawn. “You smell good.” She closed her eyes and in a hushed voice asked, “Jennifer? Is this real?”
Jennifer’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes, Sara.” She placed a kiss on her sister’s forehead. “This is real.”
Within a few minutes, Sara was fast asleep.
“How about you two stay put for a few?” Mac asked. “I’ll go shower and then I’ll carry the kid back to her room.”
“Thanks.”
Mac slid from the bed and headed for the door.
“Mac?”
“Yeah?”
“How did I end up in your bed?” Jennifer asked.
“Well, I had to put you somewhere. If I had just left you to lie there on the floor, we probably would have eventually tripped over you,” he replied with a wink. “I’ll be back in a few. Enjoy this time with her. She’s feeling scared and vulnerable. By tomorrow though, we could easily be back to square one.”
Jennifer nodded her understanding and rolled onto her side, protectively curving her body around the tiny girl who was now hers to care for. She looked down at her face and for a second saw herself. She’d anticipated how challenging the actual tasks of caregiving would be. What she wasn’t prepared for were the emotions, the memories. Not to mention the stark realizations about her own parents’ shortcomings and how they had so ill prepared her. She had spent years cultivating an image of self-assuredness and competence. Memories. Feelings. Those things had become uncharted territory for her. For years she had been consumed wit
h making plans, positioning herself. It had always been about the next step. She closed her eyes, released a breath and tried to focus on the moment.
“Is she asleep?” Mac asked, quietly.
Jennifer’s eyes drifted lazily open. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, next to her, now wearing a pair of black sweatpants.
“I think so. I was just…”
“Savoring the moment?”
Jennifer smiled down at her sister. “Something like that.”
Mac slipped his arms under Sara’s body and scooped her up with ease. “Don’t move.”
“Mac, I—”
“No buts. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” He headed out the door cradling Sara in his arms.
Jennifer sat up and swung her feet onto the floor, positioning herself to stand.
Mac paused and turned around “Did you not hear the ‘don’t move’ part? I believe I repeated it twice.”
She froze. “I heard you.”
“Good. Do me a favor.” He nodded in the direction of the candle on his bedside table. “Light the candle over there.”
The soft click of Mac’s bedroom door startled Jennifer. She was nervous, too nervous to turn around and face him. Mere seconds had passed since she’d lit the gold candle on Mac’s nightstand. The ginger and lemongrass scent had already permeated the air. The heady aroma, in other circumstances, would have been calming. But candles meant romance. Mac had expectations, expectations she wouldn’t be able to fulfill. Not now, maybe not ever.
“You moved,” he said softly as he approached her from behind.
“Only to light the candle.”
He stepped closer to her.
Jennifer held her breath.
Mac reached out, gathered up her long blonde hair and swept it forward over her shoulder. “I have this fantasy.”
She swallowed. “Yeah?”
He leaned down and whispered. “It begins with you in my bed surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight.”
“Mac, I can’t. I’m not…attainable.”
“Attainable? I don’t like that word. I wouldn’t want to think of myself as attainable either. We’re not bloody prizes or possessions.” He dragged his index finger down the long column of her neck. It made her shiver. “You aren’t a goal I’ve set, something for me to conquer, an achievement to boast about.”
Jennifer turned around and faced him. He was still shirtless and her breath quickened as she gazed upon his beautifully sculpted chest. He was strong, athletic and confident. She searched his eyes. They were dark with passion, a passion that was raw and real. It called to her.
She placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. “I’m not sure I can give you what you deserve out of a relationship.” She could feel his heart beat. “In fact, I’m almost positive I can’t.”
Mac wasn’t deterred, he snaked one arm around her waist. “Can’t or won’t?”
“I’m not sure I’m capable.”
“Of?”
“Connecting. Really connecting.”
“How could you possibly think that?” Mac pulled her closer and nuzzled her neck. “You’re capable. I felt it the night I first held you in my arms. I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind since. The way your body molded to mine.” He kissed her behind her ear. It was a soft, open mouth kiss.
Jennifer moaned and arched into him. She lifted and turned her head, slightly, offering more of her neck. “I need…”
“Yes, love, tell me what you need.” Mac moved his hand up the length of her torso and cupped her breast.
Her breath hitched. “I need for you to stop for a minute.”
“Stop?” His voice cracked.
“I can’t think with you touching me.”
“Thinking is overrated.” Mac leaned in for another kiss.
Jennifer held up her hand. “Are you saying you don’t want to possess me?”
His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Possess you? Of course not. Cross my heart, my sexual fantasies are all pretty vanilla. I’m not in the market for a sex slave. I want an equal and very willing partner.”
“You don’t want to make me yours and only yours? Have me share my bed with only you?”
“Right now, I honestly just want to get closer to you. Take things to the next level.”
“We both know what that means. Sex.”
Mac stepped back, his expression hurt. “I’m not just talking about sex here. I think you know I’m not and… Is the thought of that possibility so horrid? I don’t know where this will lead, but I want to find out. Don’t you?”
“I already know where this is going to lead.”
“Bollocks. You don’t have a soddin’ clue. And, for the record, being in a monogamous, committed relationship with someone and possessing them isn’t the same thing.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Well, the difference is… It’s just different. What is this really about?”
“This is about the inevitable. I’m attracted to you, very attracted to you. This is my fault, I’m probably…”
“What?”
“Giving off the wrong signals.”
“Your signals tell me you want me, maybe as much as I want you. Although frankly, that’s hard for me to imagine. Am I wrong?” He reached out and caressed the side of her face. “This feels awfully right, awfully real. Don’t back away from what’s true.”
“If I don’t, you’ll only end up hurt and disappointed.”
“You won’t even try?”
“I’ve tried. It didn’t work.”
“One failed relationship and you’re willing to throw in the towel?” Mac climbed onto the bed and leaned back, resting comfortably on his elbows. “You’ve got to tell me why?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do. We’re friends, first and foremost. As your friend, I deserve an explanation.”
Jennifer frowned. “Could you put a shirt on for the rest of this conversation?”
Mac looked down at his six-pack abs and smiled. “No. But I wouldn’t mind if you evened the score and took off your nightgown.”
Jennifer realized that was all she was wearing. Her nipples were hard and peaked and embarrassingly visible through the sheer silk fabric. She blushed. “I need to get a robe.”
“You don’t need to run away and you don’t need a robe.”
Jennifer glanced toward the door.
Mac sighed dramatically. “I’m not going to ravage you.”
“Ravage me? Have you been reading those bodice rippers again?”
“Ha-ha. Come on, out with it. Let me hear the details.”
“Details?”
“Your dating and sexual history. I want to understand what I’m getting into here.”
“You’re not getting into anything.”
He patted the space on the bed beside him.
Jennifer shook her head. “I so don’t remember agreeing to anything.”
“You will. It’s only a matter of time. I’m irresistible.”
“I think you mean irrepressible.”
“That too.”
“You know?” Jennifer feigned a yawn. “I’m not sure I’m up to this tonight. I think I’m going to turn in.” Her gaze returned to the door.
Mac stood and began to pull down the covers. “You win. No sex. No talking. No pressure. Stay.”
“What?”
“Stay here with me.”
“You mean sleep with you in your bed?”
“I want to be close to you.”
Jennifer shook her head. “Not a good idea. You know it isn’t.”
Mac grinned widely “You don’t trust yourself. See, I told you, irresistible.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his confidence. “You’re a hard man to say no to.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. The evidence of his arousal was pressing against her. “I’m hard, I’ll give you that. You seem to have that affect on me. But I also know h
ow to control myself.”
“Even that dark side?”
“The idea that I might lose control scares you.”
“It thrills me and that scares me. I made a mistake once. I can’t afford to make that kind of mistake again. I’m not sure I could survive it.” Jennifer stared into his deep blue eyes. “Goodnight, Mac.”
“Goodnight.”
She pulled herself from his embrace and headed for the door. As she placed her hand on the doorknob, he softly said, “This wouldn’t be a mistake. Give this a chance.”
“I’ve given myself to someone before. Completely. It wasn’t enough. Not enough to keep him.”
“I’m not him. I’m me.”
“What I have to offer will never be enough, not for anyone. I’m…empty inside.”
“You’re not empty. I’ve seen glimpses of the girl inside. You’re more than window dressing.” He was standing right behind her now. “You’re just closed off from trying to protect yourself.”
Jennifer turned back around and leaned against the door. “Protect myself from what?”
“From having to face your demons, whatever they may be. Because if you do, really do, you have to admit it could all change. And that’s terrifying beyond belief.”
Her mouth was suddenly dry. She licked her lips.
Mac placed a hand on either side of her head and leaned in, until his forehead touched hers. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he whispered. Seconds ticked away. He slowly lowered his hands until they rested comfortably on her waist. Their breathing became synchronized.
She closed her eyes and felt him, drinking in his scent, allowing the tenderness of the moment to surround her. She let go, if only for a moment, relinquishing control. She permitted him to lead. The pace of his inhalations became deeper, more impassioned. A soft moan escaped her lips. Her resolve was crumbling. She placed her hand, hesitantly, on his forearm.
Mac kissed her on the forehead, then pulled back. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight?”
“Go off to your room and go to sleep, like a good girl. You don’t want me turning into the big bad wolf.”
“Would you eat me?” Jennifer looked up at him, her voice carrying a tone of feigned innocence.
Shelter from the Storm Page 7
