by Brenda Novak
When she didn’t stiffen or resist, his hands slid through the lather he’d already created, going over what he’d already washed, including her breasts—only now he let his palms and fingers slide slowly over her nipples before working his way back down her belly. Whatever part of her he touched felt immediately better. The gentle pressure he used even eased the soreness in her stomach. She was enjoying what he was doing so much she couldn’t help closing her eyes and only opened them when he moved steadily lower, slipping one hand between her legs as though he was tempted to focus on an even more sensitive area.
She gave him a look to let him know that would be going too far, and he grinned as if to say it was worth a shot and moved on.
By the time he finished, the water was growing tepid, and she was so relaxed she could barely keep her eyes open. She felt him pour clean water over her to rinse her off. Then he helped her out of the water, wrapped her in a towel and carried her back to her room, where he got her a clean T-shirt to put on before she dropped into bed and, once again, welcomed the dark void of sickness-induced sleep.
* * *
Mack closed Natasha’s door on his way out, then stood in the hall as he let go of a long breath. That bath he’d given her was...wow. He hadn’t felt that much sexual desire in a long time. But Natasha did something to him no other woman could, and it didn’t seem to matter how hard he fought it.
He checked on Lucas, who was holding his favorite toy—the sword he’d taken to the home improvement store—while watching TV. “You ready for a snack, buddy?” he asked, but Lucas was too engrossed in his program to hear him, let alone answer, so he figured the kid was okay.
By the time Mack had cleaned up dinner, Lucas came out of his room, so Mack pretended to let him help fix the screen door, which hung at an odd angle and squeaked every time someone opened it. Then they played hide-and-seek in the backyard and Lucas watched as Mack knocked down all the cobwebs in the garage, so that Natasha wouldn’t have to deal with them. As tough and determined as she’d always been—working every bit as hard as the rest of them at Amos Auto Body at only sixteen—he knew how she felt about spiders.
“Look,” Lucas said as he examined a daddy longlegs that was wobbling on its threadlike legs as it hurried to escape the swish of Mack’s broom. “He’s so cool!”
Mack couldn’t help chuckling. “I used to like spiders when I was a kid, too. I liked snakes even more and used to catch water snakes in the creek behind my house.”
“Can I see one?” he asked eagerly.
“Sure. I’ll catch you one someday.”
After they went in, Mack checked on Natasha, but she seemed to be sleeping soundly, so he backed quietly out of the room and read a stack of books to Lucas before putting him to bed.
It was after ten when his brother Rod called. Mack saw the call come in while he was entertaining himself watching sports clips on YouTube.
“’Lo?” he said, propping up his pillow as he leaned back on it.
“Hey, man, have you heard the news?”
Mack was mildly surprised by the intensity of Rod’s voice. This particular brother was pretty mellow, especially since he got married and became a doting stepparent to India’s daughter. “What news?”
“About Kellan.”
“Don’t tell me he got injured at football practice,” Mack said, sitting up at the sound of his nephew’s name. He’d always been particularly close with Dylan’s son.
“No. Nothing like that. He ran away last night.”
Mack came to his feet. “He...what?”
“He ran away.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. Dylan and Cheyenne have never had any trouble with Kellan. What happened?”
“I don’t know. Neither does anyone else here. When Cheyenne got home from her friend’s house a few hours ago, she found a note on his bed that said he was running away and not to look for him.”
Mack couldn’t imagine his nephew writing that. “Doesn’t sound like anything Kellan would do.”
“Right? It’s taken everyone by surprise. So...you haven’t heard from him?”
“Not a peep.”
“Damn. We’ve been searching everywhere. I was hoping you might be able to tell us something.”
“Why would he call me? I’m not even in town.”
“Doesn’t matter. He adores you. All the kids in the family do.”
Mack had spent a lot of time with his nephew. He went to most of Kellan’s games and hung out with him sometimes on Saturdays, throwing a football to him, taking him to Tahoe to go skiing during the winter or just sitting around, watching sports together. “Well, I haven’t heard from him,” Mack reiterated. “But there must’ve been something that set him off.”
“Dylan claims there was nothing. Cheyenne says the same. They’re freaking out.”
Mack could understand why. This behavior was so uncharacteristic of their son. “He’s not answering his phone?”
“Not for any of us. Can you try him?”
“Of course.”
Mack disconnected and hit Kellan’s picture on his list of favorites, but the call transferred to voice mail on the first ring. He sent a text message, too, but he didn’t expect a response. He was pretty sure Kellan had turned off his phone.
“Did you get hold of him?” Rod asked eagerly, in lieu of a hello, when Mack called back.
“I’m afraid not,” Mack replied.
“Damn it! What’s going on? Where the hell is he?”
“Have you checked with his friends?”
“Dylan and Cheyenne are going down the list. Meanwhile, Grady and I are driving around town, looking for him at the places he likes to go.”
Whiskey Creek wasn’t a big town, but it would still be hard to find someone through such a random process. “I can’t imagine you’ll have any luck without some clue of where he’s at.”
“We have to do something,” Rod said. “I’ve never seen Dylan like this—not in years, anyway.”
Mack could only imagine what Dylan had to be feeling. Kellan meant so much to him. “Things like this don’t just pop up out of nowhere.”
“This one did. When are you coming home?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“You should come as soon as possible. You have always been Dylan’s favorite. And you’re the one who’s closest to Kellan, too—other than Dylan. If we find him, and he refuses to come home, maybe you’ll be able to talk some sense into him. He obviously has some sort of problem with his parents, or he wouldn’t have run away.”
Mack shot a glance down the hall. “I don’t know if I can come right now. Natasha hasn’t been feeling well.”
“What’s wrong?”
“She says it’s just a virus, probably the flu, and she seems to be through the worst of it. She hasn’t thrown up all day, but—”
“Then she’ll be fine. Come home. I think it would mean a lot to Dylan. He’s always loved you more like a son than a brother.”
Because Mack was the baby of the family. He’d been just a child when Dylan had had to take over as the patriarch of the family. In many respects, Dylan was a father to him.
Mack drew a deep breath. Not only had Natasha stopped throwing up, her fever was gone. He could tell that when he’d bathed her, was pretty sure she was through the worst of it. The fact that she was finally sleeping so well was another sign.
After everything Dylan had done for him, he felt he needed to be there to support his brother. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
* * *
The next time Natasha woke up, she felt better. Lucas was in bed for the night, so the house was quiet when Mack brought her some more soup.
Neither of them mentioned what’d happened in the bathroom. Natasha figured they never would. With Mack, it had always been better to igno
re those types of things—the times she’d caught him staring at her with naked desire; the kiss she’d given him the night before she left for college and the explosive way he’d reacted, as though he’d take her right then and there; the night they’d shared during Victorian Days years later. After all, the fact that he’d bathed her wasn’t a big deal. Maybe he’d gone a little further than anyone else would have, and she shouldn’t have let him. But the stronger she got, the more capable she would be of taking on the mantle of being a divorcée with a child to raise on her own and a career to rescue. The last thing she needed was more unrequited love, and she knew it.
She was almost over the flu or whatever she had. She figured one more day and she should be back on her feet.
“You look a lot better,” he said, sounding relieved as he settled the cookie sheet on her lap like he had before.
“I’m getting there.”
“I hope Lucas doesn’t catch whatever it is.”
“I hope neither of you do.”
While she ate, he crossed his arms and rocked back in the chair he’d put next to her bed, and she wondered what he was thinking. She could tell he had something on his mind and guessed it wasn’t about her bath. After they’d made love all those years ago, he’d completely ignored the fact that it’d ever happened, other than one awkward attempt to broach the subject after he heard she was pregnant, so she figured that was how he’d handle the bath, too. The bath was subtle by comparison, probably didn’t rate. But it had been just what she’d needed—a little TLC—and she couldn’t help being grateful that she could have someone’s care at a time when she had no one to rely on.
“I swabbed Lucas’s cheek,” he said, out of the blue.
She gripped the spoon she was using a lot tighter. “And? Did you send it in?”
“Not yet. I need to get your DNA, too, remember? And I was reluctant to mail it without your okay. I know you must be scared about...about how it could change things. I just wanted to be sure you were ready. I’d rather you not be upset if it turns out that Lucas is mine.”
She kept her gaze fastened to her bowl. “Will you be upset?”
“No.”
She couldn’t help looking up. “But then your brothers will know we... Well, they’ll know. Or...what are you thinking? Are you thinking we’ll just continue to call you Lucas’s uncle?”
“That’s what he calls them,” he said.
“Exactly. Then they won’t know anything has changed. That might actually be the best thing for him.”
He frowned. “We’ll wait to get the results before we decide what to do.”
“Okay.”
He put his chair back down on all four legs. “Do you believe Ace will really walk away even if I’m not Lucas’s father?”
She drew a deep breath. “I don’t know. He’s always been a quitter.”
“A quitter?”
“Yeah. If things get tough, he quits. He’s quit almost every sports team he’s ever belonged to, every solid job he’s had and our marriage. So I wouldn’t be surprised if he gave up on being Lucas’s dad, too. Because of that journal, he can walk away from all responsibility and blame me for doing it. That would be the easiest route for him.”
Mack rubbed his chin. “I knew I didn’t like him.”
The soup was warm and, thankfully, gentle on her stomach. That she was hungry and actually welcomed food indicated she was getting well. “What have you said to Ace since I got sick?”
“Not a lot. I’m just keeping him honest.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “That’s cryptic.”
“I told him to keep his name-calling and guilt-inducing bullshit to himself. You have enough to worry about. I don’t want him bothering you, especially because I have to leave in the morning.”
She let her spoon dangle between her bowl and her mouth as she looked over. She’d told herself she’d welcome the day he left. It was the only way to stop the longing—or lessen it—so she was surprised to feel such bitter disappointment. “Okay.” Unable to take another bite, she set her spoon back in her bowl. “Thanks for...everything. I owe you a lot, and I’ll get you paid for the truck and the groceries soon.”
“Forget about it. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Of course I do.”
“If Lucas is mine, I owe you a lot more than you owe me. Is it okay if I go ahead and swab your cheek?”
She nodded and he went out to get the kit. If Lucas is mine... Those were words she’d never expected to hear him say. “Will you give me the link where I can go to find the results of the DNA test?” she asked when he returned.
Using what looked like an extra-large Q-tip, he took the swab. “I’ll call you.”
“Just in case you don’t.”
His eyebrows came together. “Natasha, I didn’t call before because—”
“You don’t have to explain,” she broke in, determined not to let that night in Whiskey Creek further disrupt her life. “Just give me the link, and then it’s okay if you forget.”
“No problem.” He slipped the swab in its vial. “I’ll text it to you.”
“Thanks.” She cleared her throat. “Did you tell Lucas you were leaving, or...?”
He shook his head. “Didn’t have the chance. He was asleep before I got Rod’s call.”
“The auto body shop’s getting too busy to go on without you?”
“That’s not it. Kellan’s run away.”
“Dylan’s son? Why?”
“I don’t know. I need to go see what’s happening.”
She chuckled mirthlessly.
“What?” he said, looking confused.
“Nothing.” She just found it ironic that he tried so hard to be a brother to her instead of a lover, but when it came to any real family involvement, she was still very much an outsider. He had to know more about Kellan than he was saying.
“You finished?” he asked, gesturing at the soup.
She nodded.
He lifted the tray but didn’t walk out right away. “Will you be okay if I leave?”
“Of course,” she said with greater conviction than she felt. “I’m almost well. I should be fine by tomorrow morning.” At which point she’d wake up and Mack would be gone. She wondered how Lucas was going to react.
“Then I’ll see you again soon.” He bent and kissed her forehead.
“Sure thing,” she said as he went out, but if the DNA test came back such that Ace was Lucas’s father, it would probably be years before she saw Mack again. He’d return to Whiskey Creek, get caught up in his own life and the family business, and forget about the new location in Los Angeles—forget about her.
After all, he’d always let her go easily enough before.
But she wanted Mack to leave, didn’t she?
Absolutely. Then she could get on with her life. She hoped he never looked back.
Because she wasn’t going to be sitting around waiting for him.
Nine
“Mack’s gone?”
Natasha woke to that question. Before she could answer, the mattress jiggled as her son climbed onto the other side of the bed. She hadn’t heard Mack leave, but the fact that he’d said his goodbyes last night had warned her that he wouldn’t be around when she got up.
Lucas didn’t have the benefit of that foreknowledge. For him, it’d come as a nasty surprise.
“Yeah.” Her mouth was so dry she had to wet her lips before she could continue talking, but she was feeling better. Thank God for that, because she needed to fix Lucas breakfast.
She wondered what she would’ve done without Mack to help her through the worst of her illness, but shoved that thought away. He deserved her gratitude, but gratitude only made things that much more difficult for her. It was anger that provided strength and determination. And she was going to need determi
nation as she forged ahead and built a new life here in Silver Springs.
“Where’d he go?” Lucas asked.
The whine in her son’s voice only made her own disappointment more acute, even though she was trying not to attribute a certain despondency to Mack’s departure. “He went home. He doesn’t live here, honey. It had to happen eventually.”
“But he said we’d go to the park today. That he’d teach me how to play ball. Is he coming back?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer that question. If Mack wasn’t Lucas’s father, she didn’t think he’d bother. But she couldn’t say that—not to Lucas. “How about I teach you something?”
“Baseball?” he asked skeptically.
“When I feel better. For now, I’m just going to teach you how to protect yourself so that you don’t get hurt.”
He looked down at his knees. “I’m not hurt.”
“I know. And the only way to avoid it is to lower your expectations.”
“What?”
“If you don’t expect Mack to stay, you won’t be sad when he leaves.”
Lucas wrinkled his nose. “Can you just tell me when he’s coming back?”
Her son wasn’t old enough to understand the concept, but it was a good reminder for her. “One day,” she said, planning to put him off for a week or two until he eventually forgot the charismatic man who’d helped them move.
His shoulders slumped. “Why didn’t he tell me he was leaving?”
“He didn’t know, honey. Something came up.”
Her phone began to buzz. She was going to ignore it, but Lucas scrambled over to answer it, and she didn’t bother to stop him.
“Yes... She’s sick...” she heard him say. “I don’t know... Want me to ask her?... Just a minute.” He handed the phone to her. “The lady we met at the school wants to talk to you. Can I go watch my show?”
