by Brenda Novak
“Like what?” She’d known exactly where he was going with this. A girl couldn’t grow up with a mother like Anya without learning a fair bit about physical intimacy. She’d seen things that would shock most adults—not the best example for a child to have when it came to sexuality, which was obviously what he was trying to rectify.
She’d blinked at him, keeping her eyes wide and innocent while awaiting his answer, and that was when he’d caught on that she found the conversation—and his attempt to have it—funny. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he’d grumbled with a scowl.
“Sex.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want me to sleep with Jason.”
“I want you to think about it, be prepared, be smart.”
“What’s to think about?” she’d asked.
His eyebrows had shot up at this response. “What do you mean? There’s a lot to think about. You’re only sixteen. It would be much better if you waited until you were older.”
“Because you want to have sex with me.”
His face had gone beet red. Instead of committing himself one way or the other, however, he’d said, “Because sex is much better when you’re in love. And there are other things to consider—like venereal disease, pregnancy, your reputation.”
“My reputation?”
“Yes. Gossip could make you a pariah at school.”
She’d shrugged. “With a mom like mine, I’m already a pariah at school. I can’t believe I even got asked to this stupid dance.”
“I’m glad you did—and that you’re going. I want you to enjoy it.” He’d worried about her when the other kids were being unkind.
“Just don’t have sex,” she’d volunteered, summing it all up.
He’d sighed as he shoved a hand through his hair, which had been longer in those days than it was now. “Basically. But if you’re not going to listen to me, you need to make sure he wears a condom, at least.”
“Should I take one in my purse?” She’d known he’d hate the idea of her carrying around a condom, but she was always needling him, trying to figure out if he wanted her the same way she wanted him. He pretended he didn’t, but she could feel the powerful attraction between them. Maybe she was young and naive, but she couldn’t be wrong about that. Or...could she?
“Just...be careful, okay?” he’d said.
“Do you want to give me a condom?” she’d pressed.
He’d waved her off. “Forget I said anything,” he’d replied in exasperation and went out and shut the door.
She still chuckled whenever she thought about that encounter. She hadn’t had a mother who was paying any attention to her, and she’d never had a father, so he’d stepped in to fill whatever roles he could. He’d even taken her to the store to buy her a new dress for the dance so she wouldn’t have to be so different, no less than anyone else, but finding one he considered modest enough hadn’t been easy.
“Should we get another picture?” she asked as he returned the kettle corn.
“I think you should,” Anya piped up. “Wait until Mack sees how well you fill out that waitress costume now.”
“Mom!” Natasha gasped.
“What?” Her mother let go of Mack to be able to spread her hands in an innocent gesture. “Look at that curvy body of yours. You’re gorgeous! I’m sure he’s noticed.”
A muscle moved in Mack’s cheek. “I’d be happy to get another picture,” he said, as if that last exchange had never taken place, and they walked past the carolers again to reach the booth that said McGee’s Old-Time Photos.
Three
Mack knew he should’ve stayed with his brothers, Cheyenne and his nephew. Anya was difficult to take, and each time he saw Natasha, now so grown up and in command of her life, it only got more difficult not to imagine things he had no business imagining. Last night, knowing she was under the same roof made it impossible for him to sleep. He’d almost gone down the hall to her room half a dozen times.
Instead, he’d tossed and turned in frustration and indecision. He wanted her, and he was fairly certain she still wanted him. When she was younger, she’d done everything she could to get him into bed. She was far less obvious these days, but he sensed that, even now, she wondered where they stood, whether his feelings ever crossed into that territory.
So why couldn’t he act on his desire? She was certainly old enough by now to give him informed consent.
He’d asked himself that over and over again while staring up at the ceiling, but the reasons were good ones. Their relationship had never been clearly defined. They weren’t brother and sister. They weren’t just friends. And they’d never been lovers. But she’d always meant a great deal to him, and he knew that once he let the relationship move in that direction, there’d be no going back.
What if they didn’t make it? They’d lose the love and support they gave each other now. That would hurt him, without question, but at least he’d still have his brothers and the business to fall back on. He was afraid of what it might do to her. She’d already suffered far too many losses in her life. Would it really be smart to take that chance?
Besides, Mack understood what other people would think and say. They’d accuse him of having taken advantage of her from the beginning. After what he and his brothers had endured, thanks to his mother’s suicide and the stabbing that sent his father to prison, he didn’t want to give the people in Whiskey Creek any more reason to disrespect him or his family. He was part owner of a successful business in this small town, and that business supported them all—him, his brothers and their families, and J.T., too.
He sent Anya a sly glance as they wove through the crowd. If he and Natasha ever got together, it would also bring Anya back into his life and the lives of his brothers, and they were all relieved to be rid of her. Drug and alcohol issues aside, she had to be the most annoying person in the world. Mack would never be able to understand how J.T. had put up with her.
But J.T. was hard to put up with, too, so there was that.
He stopped to buy another beer before they reached the photo booth, and while they were there they happened to see Aaron, his wife, Presley, and their ten-year-old son and two younger daughters in the next line over, waiting to get some candied peanuts.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Aaron asked.
“Not much.” Mack offered to get him and Presley a beer, too, but they declined.
Natasha and Anya visited with Presley until Aaron was able to get the kids their peanuts. Then Natasha asked someone to take a group photo of them all, and as they were saying their goodbyes, Presley told Anya about a great wine-tasting booth she and the family were planning to visit next and invited her to join them.
Anya was obviously shocked to be invited, but she readily agreed, and they started off in the opposite direction.
“Why do you think Presley invited my mother?” Natasha asked, once they were gone.
“I guess she thought your mother would enjoy it,” he said, but he knew Presley hadn’t done it for that reason. The secretive smile his sister-in-law had cast him just before she walked away suggested she was doing him a favor. Although he probably would’ve denied it had she asked him—he’d denied a lot of things where Natasha was concerned—Presley knew he’d love to spend some time alone with Natasha before she had to go home tomorrow.
But he wasn’t entirely convinced that being alone with her put him in the best position. He was already experiencing the effects of what he’d had to drink so far tonight, felt his resolve and his restraint slipping, especially as they took the old-fashioned picture and the photographer suggested Natasha—wearing a boa with her barmaid costume—sit on his lap. As he held her, wearing cowboy attire but no fake mustache this time, it felt so natural to have her close that it was almost impossible not to continue touching her afterward.
Once they receiv
ed their copies of the photo, they talked and laughed about a lot of different things as they made their way through the rest of the booths. Although Mack enjoyed the food and the festivities of Victorian Days, he had no real interest in the crafts and various trinkets. Natasha seemed to enjoy looking at all the objects people were selling, however, and he was happy just to be with her.
They returned to the park because she wanted another picture, this one a selfie of them in front of the big tree. After that, they meandered away from the festival, where there were no more lights or people. He’d always been impressed by how smart she was, but as he listened to her talk, he was also impressed by how far she’d come, especially after the start she’d received in life. She was no longer the angry teen who’d gotten tattoos without her mother’s permission, shaved her head one day on a whim, probably to let the kids at school know she didn’t care about their rejection, and pierced her nipples—something he saw the night she came into his room and stripped off her clothes. He’d never been able to forget that sight—or how hard it had been to tell her to put her clothes back on—and it was something he couldn’t quit thinking about right now. Were those piercings still there? She would always be nine years younger, but it was becoming very apparent that she was a woman now, no longer a girl. And the maturity of her mind matched the maturity of her body...
“What is it?” she said when he couldn’t help grinning at her.
“I’m so proud of you,” he told her. “I hope you know that.”
She didn’t respond. She just slipped her hand in his, and the way she smiled made it impossible for him not to grasp on. There was no one to see them, so he didn’t have to worry about that. Still, he knew he’d be stupid to get anything started while she was in school. Even if they could overcome all the other obstacles, they couldn’t be together for another five or six years. She’d already explained how long it was going to take to become a pediatrician.
Right now, however, all that seemed to matter was this moment.
She continued to talk, but his heart had begun to pound as soon as her fingers slipped through his, and he couldn’t hear anything above it. He’d never stopped wanting her, despite all the years he’d been so careful not to let her know it.
He knew he should probably stay away from her. But he also knew that was a fight he was going to lose—and he was going to lose it tonight.
The small building that housed the police station was on their right. Impulsively, he pulled her around the corner, just in case someone came looking for them, and kissed her like he’d always wanted to kiss her—with every bit of the desire he felt.
Finally.
* * *
Natasha hadn’t lost her virginity until the end of her first year in college. She’d been twenty, at least three years behind most other girls she knew. Her roommates had been shocked when she told them she’d never been with a man, never even had a steady boyfriend. After watching how her mother handled relationships, Natasha had been—and still was—determined to do things differently.
She’d also been waiting for Mack. She’d fully believed they’d be together eventually. She couldn’t imagine her life any other way. But when the contact they had remained as circumspect as ever, she’d begun to wonder if she’d misunderstood. Maybe he didn’t feel anything. After all, he was the type who’d step up to take care of some poor girl who’d been overlooked and neglected just because it was the right thing to do—sort of like bringing home a stray puppy. He’d been good to her in so many ways. He didn’t owe her his heart, too.
Once she’d realized she was taking too much for granted, she’d decided not to put her life on hold for him. She’d started dating more often and had been with three or four men over the years. Her first experience was pretty unremarkable, but her sex life had improved since. She’d slept with Ace, the guy she was dating now, for the first time two weeks ago, and she’d enjoyed it. She’d even told herself it was amazing.
But nothing could compare to this. Now she knew what real fulfillment and satisfaction felt like. It was Mack who was kissing her. Mack whose muscular body was pressed firmly against her own. Mack whose erection she could feel as they strained to get even closer.
When he lifted his head, she was afraid he’d pull away and it would all be over. She was tempted to cling to him, to try to crack through that warrior-like mentality to expose his true emotions. She was certain he felt something.
But she refused to be the grasping, desperate child she’d once been—far too eager for any kind of love, especially his. That smacked too much of her mother.
She tried to catch her breath while waiting to see what he’d do next. She expected an avalanche of disappointment, was already preparing herself.
But then he raised his hand, and one finger gently outlined her cheek. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? It makes me weak just to look at you.”
“I don’t care about that,” she said, staring up into his dark eyes. “I don’t care about anything except whether or not you want me.”
His chest lifted with a deep breath, and he said, “Damn, Tash. You have no idea how much.”
Those words sounded torn from him, as though he’d been reluctant to make that admission. But they meant the world to her. “Then what are you waiting for? Make love to me—at last.”
“Do you really know what you’re asking for?” he asked. “I’m nine years older—”
“The age difference is meaningless to me,” she broke in. “It always has been.”
“It’s not that simple,” he argued.
“Maybe not to you.” Rising up on tiptoe, she caught his face in her hands and used her tongue to lightly outline his lips. “But it is to me. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
With a groan, he held the back of her head in his palm as he met her tongue, immediately taking the kiss to the same desperate, hungry place of moments before, and when he lifted his head again, she could tell he’d come to a decision. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Four
They were so eager to come together they almost fell inside the motel room the moment Mack managed to unlock the door, and they started kissing again immediately, before they could even get the door closed. Natasha had never felt such a rush of pleasure or such an upwelling of desire. This night had ramped up like a roller coaster, climbing slowly to the first big drop—and now she was about to come screaming down the other side.
“You taste better than I even imagined,” she admitted, breathlessly.
“Let me see you,” he said. “Take off your clothes, just like you did for me before.”
She slanted him an injured glance. “You mean when you rejected me?”
“Believe me, that hurt me more than it did you. For weeks, even months afterward, I was tortured by the memory of what I’d missed. That night is still one of the things I think about all the time—and imagine handling differently.”
“So you did want me in that way.”
“How could you not know that?” he asked.
“You’ve done an admirable job of pretending otherwise.”
“Everything I’ve ever done has proved how much you mean to me. But we were living together under...odd circumstances. I couldn’t allow myself to... I didn’t want to feel as though I was taking advantage of you in some way.”
“Even though I asked you to make love to me?”
“You know how complicated this is.”
She did. But she was no longer too young, and she felt they could overcome anything, if they wanted to be together badly enough. “It doesn’t have to be that complicated,” she said, but she was scared to cross this line, too. Her love for Mack made her completely vulnerable, stripped away the defenses she’d spent most of her life building.
She almost told him she needed more reassurance. But she didn’t want to ruin this night by bringing her emotional baggage into it.
She was going to do the opposite—let go completely and just...trust.
Drawing a deep, calming breath, she lifted her sweater over her head and unsnapped her bra.
She heard him suck his breath in between his teeth as soon as he saw what she’d revealed.
“This would go faster if you helped me,” she teased.
He grinned. “I like watching.” His eyes were hungrier than she’d ever seen them. She’d barely started to unzip her jeans when he stepped forward as though he couldn’t wait any longer. “They’re gone,” he said as his hands circled her bare waist. “I wondered.”
“What’re gone?”
“The piercings.”
“Oh. Yeah. And some of the tattoos, too. The ones I could afford to have removed.” He knew that, of course, because she’d focused on her arms first, but she was nervous and that made her talk just to talk. “I’ll do more over time. I don’t think the kind of tattoos I had would look very respectable on a doctor.”
His hand gently cupped her right breast. “You’re beautiful with or without them—the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
As he began to kiss her breasts, she dropped her head back and closed her eyes. “This is beyond anything I could’ve imagined,” she whispered. “Words can’t even explain it.”
“I agree.” His hands were trembling by the time they’d stripped off the rest of their clothes. She could feel it when he cupped her face and looked down into her eyes. “Whatever this is, it’s bigger than I am,” he said and carried her to the bed.
* * *
Natasha woke up alone. Although Mack had spent the night with her, he’d had to get up early for work. Amos Auto Body was always slammed. But she was happier than she’d ever been—and even more in love with Mack. He’d offered to take the morning off until she had to leave, but she knew how difficult that would be to explain to his brothers. He’d be leaving them high and dry with work that needed to get done, and she had to spend some time with her mother, anyway. Anya would be hurt if she didn’t.
