by Carsen Taite
“You do, huh?” Mac responded idly, fiddling with the coffee creamer.
Jordan could tell she didn’t appreciate the import of the announcement she was about to hear. She decided to take advantage of the theme of the day and surprise Mac with both the message and delivery of what she had to say. Reaching across the nightstand, she stilled Mac’s hand and softly said, “I’m in love with you, Mackenzie Lewis. I’ve been in love with you for years.”
She lightly touched her lips to Mac’s. The moment their lips met, she knew her announcement was not only unexpected, but awkward. Seconds spent in the embrace only confirmed the knowledge, and Jordan drew back quickly. Seeing the unsettled look on Mac’s face, she scrambled to her feet, desperate to distance herself from the increasingly uncomfortable silence.
She walked quickly to the door, hoping her car keys were still on the kitchen table.
Tossing a quick “I’ll check on you later” over her shoulder, she fled, unable to bear additional contact with the open wound of her newly professed feelings.
Blocks away, encased in the safety of her sedan, she called her father. Barely waiting for him to register the surprise he must be feeling at receiving the first phone call from his daughter in years, she plunged on. “I have some things I need to take care of and won’t be able to stay with Mac for the next few days. Would you mind stopping by her house and checking on her?”
A brief pause followed, then she relaxed as he agreed to do whatever needed to be done. Jordan imagined he would bring Grace with him. She shuddered at the anticipation of the lecture she would receive once Grace found out she had abandoned Mac in an attempt to salvage her pride. Speeding home, she concluded preserving her pride was worth all her efforts. She would lick her wounds in private.
What the hell happened? Mac hadn’t moved since Jordan had practically run out the door. Jordan Wagner kissed me, she mused dreamily, still tingling from the touch of her lips.
Slowly swimming back to reality, Mac struggled to wrap her mind around Jordan’s message. She told me she loves me—no, she told me she’s in love with me. And I sat here like a bump on a log. No wonder she took off.
Determined to deal with the situation directly, she picked up the phone and called Aimee. “I need a lift.”
Mac had an access key to Jordan’s loft, but she forgot to pick it up as she hurried out of the house twenty minutes later.
Even if she had, she didn’t think it would have been good to barge in with it under the circumstances.
“Are you sure you want me to drop you off?” Aimee looked concerned. “I can come up with you.”
Mac was thankful Aimee hadn’t asked a lot of questions when she asked for the ride to Jordan’s loft. She didn’t have the energy to deal with explanations, though she was sure Aimee was wildly curious to know what prompted the request.
“Thanks, but Jordan’s taking me home. She wanted me to come over so she could check out my arm. She was coming from the opposite direction and I told her I could get a ride here.”
Mac winced at the hastily hung-together lie, knowing Aimee couldn’t possibly be fooled by the inconsistent story.
“All right, but if you need me, call me on my cell and I’ll come get you.” Aimee paused. “Mac, I love you.”
“I love you too, Aimee. I’m fine. I promise.”
Mac got out of the car and waited impatiently for Jordan to respond to her call on the intercom. The greeting was less than charming.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jordan asked.
“Be mad at me if you want, but at least invite me up and be mad at me in person.”
The buzz of the door lock was the only response. Jordan was waiting at the door to her loft and she waved Mac in, but didn’t invite her any farther than the entry. She repeated her question, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“You shouldn’t be driving until your arm heals, especially not a stick shift.”
“I got a ride. I wanted to see you.” Mac emphasized the last point with pleading eyes.
Jordan looked away. “I don’t think you do. At least not the way I want you to see me.”
Mac could hear the hurt and anger in Jordan’s voice, and once again, she realized how big a gesture the kiss had been.
She hadn’t had time to process her own feelings, but right now she was focused on the disposition of the woman standing before her. Reaching out, she grasped Jordan’s hand in her own. “Let me ask you something. Was this morning when you first thought you might have these feelings for me?”
Jordan appeared to be looking inside for an answer. After a moment, she responded, “No. I’ve felt this way for a while, but I first started to think I might be falling in love with you the week of Jeremy’s party.”
“Was your realization sudden or did it kind of creep up on you?”
“Kind of snuck up on me,” Jordan admitted.
“So, you’ve had a little time to think about it?” Mac watched and waited. Jordan was smart enough to get her point and Mac was sure she would get it quickly. She wasn’t disappointed.
“You must think I’m crazy. I declare I’m in love with you, and then run like a rabbit when you don’t instantly respond in kind.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy. Maybe a little feverish.” Mac smiled, hoping Jordan was feeling resilient enough to enjoy a little levity.
Jordan grinned. “Maybe a little.” Fastening an earnest look on her face, she asked, “Any chance I could interest you in a little fever as well?”
Mac’s laugh faded into a blush as she realized Jordan’s humor hid a serious question. Questions of her own flooded her mind. Was Jordan in love with her? Could she, did she feel the same way? How would her answer affect their friendship, the most important and longest lasting friendship she’d ever enjoyed?
A ringing phone interrupted her thoughts.
Jordan glanced at the caller ID and swore. “It’s my dad. I asked him to check on you. Chances are he’s at your house and is wondering where the hell you are.” She lifted the receiver and spoke into the phone. “Don’t worry. She came over here to pick up some CDs. I’ll make sure she gets back shortly We’re good for the rest of the week. Thanks for checking. I owe you.”
“Jordan, why was your dad checking on me?”
“I thought after the way you reacted to my declaration, you wouldn’t want to see me anytime soon. And, frankly, I was pretty embarrassed.”
Mac hugged Jordan close. “I’m the last person you should ever be embarrassed with. I love you with all my heart. Your little announcement surprised me. I still haven’t had time to process how I feel about it, but my first reaction was to run to you, not away. Can you at least take that as a good sign?”
Jordan nodded.
“And can you give me a little time to think about how I feel?”
“Yes, of course.” Jordan paused. “What should we do in the meantime?”
“Look, I know it’s not fair to keep you hanging, but I need a few days to think. Okay?” She was finding it hard to look into Jordan’s imploring eyes, knowing she had the power, but didn’t yet possess the resolve, to grant her best friend’s wish.
“Meantime, I think we should go on a date.”
“A date?” Jordan almost slapped herself in the head. All those years of school and she could only speak in one-syllable words. Mac must think she’d turned into a blithering idiot.
“You know, those occasions where two people meet and attend dinner or the theater and get to know each other over the course of a few hours.”
“I think a date is a great idea.” Well, at least she could speak in complete sentences.
“Great, Saturday night. Why don’t you pick me up at seven?”
“Perfect.” At this point, Jordan only trusted herself with small words and phrases. She allowed herself a silent ditty. I have a date with Mackenzie, I have a date with Mackenzie!
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“You didn’t have to ring the doorbell, you know.” Mac waved her guest in, unable to keep her eyes from the small, tasteful bouquet of flowers in Jordan’s grasp.
Following her gaze, Jordan offered the bouquet. “These are for you. And, frankly it didn’t seem very date-like to use my key.”
“Well, I suppose I need to be the good hostess then and offer my date a drink while I finish the last touches of my look for the night.”
Jordan’s gaze swept over her and her low whistle gave her considered opinion about Mac’s look for the evening. Slim-fitting black slacks hugged Mac’s well-toned legs, and a crisp sleeveless white shirt offset the light sling she still wore for her healing collarbone.
“If you think you can improve on what I’m seeing right now, feel free, Mac. But I don’t think it’s possible. How about I help myself to a drink while you take care of whatever you think needs doing? There’s no need for us to pretend as if we’ve never been to each other’s houses.”
Mac, blushing from Jordan’s compliment, seized on the opportunity to catch her breath in the other room while Jordan rifled through the bar.
“Would it be very rude for me to drink the last of your good Scotch on our first date?” Jordan called.
“A little, but if you hide the bottle in the back, I’m not likely to notice for a while.” Ignoring her fast-beating heart, Mac dabbed on a light coppery lip color and took one last look in the mirror before she grabbed her purse, slung it over her good shoulder, and went to the living room to rescue the last of her Scotch.
“Are you starving,” Jordan asked, “or would you mind if we made a quick stop before dinner?”
“Not starving, just some low rumbles from the beast within. What did you have in mind?”
“I swear it won’t take long and then I promise you a great dinner. I made a reservation at Abacus.”
“Fantastic. I promise I won’t turn dinner into a review.”
“I picked it because of their tasting menu. Don’t worry.
You’ll get the full experience without having to order one of everything.”
Mac grinned as she realized how comfortable it was to be with someone who knew her so well. Moments later, though, her grin turned sour as she realized they were pulling into a reserved spot in front of Sue Ellen’s. Maybe Jordan didn’t know her so well after all. “Jordan, what are we doing here?”
“Quick stop. I promise. Please come inside with me for a few minutes.”
Very romantic, Mac thought grumpily. She got all dressed up to go into a smoky bar. It was barely even eight o’clock and she needed to be ten years younger and slightly buzzed to feel like she belonged here. A quick look at the wistful pleading in Jordan’s eyes stopped the procession of thoughts and Mac forced herself from the car.
“This isn’t what I envisioned for our date,” she said as she slipped her hand into Jordan’s.
It was too early for a cover charge. Once inside, Jordan led her to one of the tables near the bar. Mac couldn’t help but notice the attention Jordan attracted from the assortment of women waiting for service. Despite the crowd, the tomboyish bartender skipped over the waiting patrons and hurried over to Jordan, leaning in to learn what her latest customer desired.
Watching the exchange, the subtle way the bartender angled closer while offering returning whispers to Jordan, Mac felt jealousy churning her insides. Had Jordan seriously brought her to a bar to watch her flirt with other women? The bartender placed two Coronas in front of Jordan and waved off her attempt to pay before ducking out from under the bar and heading back to the deejay booth. Mac quickly averted her eyes as Jordan approached their table. She had no desire to let her see any trace of the jealousy she was sure was etched in the lines on her face.
Jordan held on to both beers and asked Mac to follow her out onto the patio. They sat in wire mesh chairs. Unable to restrain herself any longer, Mac opened her mouth to let loose with some fierce questions about why they were spending their first date at a bar.
Jordan beat her to the punch, asking, “Do you remember the first time we came here?”
Caught off guard by the question, Mac paused, casting back through some long-forgotten memories. “I sure do.”
Holding up her beer, she said, “Corona was all we drank back then, but we had to sweet-talk some of the older dykes at the bar into buying them for us.”
Jordan smiled. “That’s right. Do you remember the first time, though?”
Something in the wistful look on her face made Mac dig deep for the memory. As the remembrance washed over her, she blushed. She had kissed Jordan right here on this patio, hours after they had ditched their homecoming dates, changed clothes, and sneaked out to the bar.
“Ah, I think you’re remembering now.”
Mac expected another teasing grin, but instead she was met with an intense gaze. Jordan’s eyes flashed with the spark of desire and she leaned in close. “Mac, can we try that kiss one more time?”
Mac answered with wordless lips. The first press of soft flesh came with a flood of memories, real and imagined. The first and, before now, only lover’s kiss they had shared had been accompanied by surges of want and desire. Shortly after, she’d dwelt on the feelings their first touch had evoked, longing for more. Then came the sadness of unrequited desire. With time, the feelings had faded and she’d adjusted to the idea that she and Jordan would never be more than friends. Since then, she’d resolved to find those feelings with someone else.
But she never had.
She’d come close, but the range and depth of feeling was never quite the same. As she kissed Jordan now, she felt as if their ardor was all encompassing. Nothing could keep them apart. Their fast friendship, previously a limiting force, would only serve to make their love invincible.
The break in the newfound closeness was abrupt. Mac glanced up and caught Jordan grinning down at her. It wasn’t a teasing grin, but a purely happy one. Mac smiled back. As they stood staring at each other, she caught the notes of the song playing and her grin grew wider. The deejay was spinning eighties tunes, and this particular one brought up memories.
Though Whitney Houston was more likely to be heard crooning in one of the boy bars down the street, Mac recalled every deejay in town had been spinning her tunes when Whitney was in her heyday. “How Will I Know” was certainly appropriate background music for her first real date with Jordan, and Mac found herself mouthing the words.
“This song was playing the first time you kissed me,” Jordan said.
Mac stopped tracing the lyrics and stared at her, marveling at the revelation. “It was?” she asked, mentally kicking herself for the inane reply.
Grinning, Jordan answered, “Yes. I remember everything about that night. How you looked, what you said, how it felt to kiss you. I didn’t know then what I know now.”
“What do you know now?”
“I know I can trust my feelings.”
“And what are your feelings telling you right now?”
“That, once again, we’re going to miss dinner at Abacus.”
Jordan’s loft was closer. She drove quickly, her ability to navigate impeded only by the urgent caresses of her frisky passenger. As they rode the private elevator to the penthouse loft, Jordan murmured soft thanks against Mac’s lips, grateful the lift was reserved for her use alone. She had no idea how long they remained in the car, writhing with want and need, before finally Mac grasped her hand and led her into the loft.
Jordan glanced quickly around. Mac caught her eye and smiled. “Looking to make sure you hung up your clothes?”
Sheepishly, Jordan replied, “Dear, you know me well enough to know I would never leave clothes lying around.
Actually, I was thinking my place seems kind of cold and uninviting compared to yours.”
Mac’s eyes swept the room and settled back on her.
Drawing Jordan close with her good arm, she spoke softly.
“Your place is perfectly you. Sleek, solid, gorgeo
us. It represents all the great facets of who you are. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Jordan melted. “It could be a bit warmer, though.”
Pulling Jordan closer, Mac traced her lips with her own, delving deeper until their tongues were dancing with desire.
She slid her hand under Jordan’s shirt and palmed her back before moving slowly to her front. Resting her hand on Jordan’s bare breast, she stroked her already erect nipple and looked her straight in the eye. “I’d say it’s getting quite a bit warmer in here, don’t you think?” At Jordan’s nod, she added, “How about you show me to the bed and we’ll see what we can do to warm it up too.”
Jordan, realizing she was no longer in control of the situation, obligingly followed Mac’s instruction and led her to the platform bed in the corner of the room. She’d counted on tonight being the first of several “dates,” a series of events where she would court Mac and convince her to fall in love. She had no idea Mac, who focused so much attention on romance, would wind up in her bed on their first date. Temptation warred with a cautious voice within, and Jordan held still the hand unbuttoning her shirt. “Mac?”
“Yes?” Mac didn’t look up from where she was planting gentle kisses along Jordan’s neck and earlobe.
“Hey, Mac, look at me.” Dreamy eyes glanced up at her and Jordan resisted the urge to lose herself in the promise of pleasure they delivered. “We don’t have to do this tonight. I mean, if you’re not ready, we can wait. I want our first time to be as romantic as your favorite love story.”
“Oh, honey, there isn’t a love story I’ve read that’s more romantic than this.”
Jordan’s surprise was genuine. “You don’t feel like having sex with me on our first date is decidedly unromantic?”
“Jordan, what we’re about to do isn’t having sex, it’s making love, which wouldn’t happen on most first dates. I think, in our own way, we’ve been dating most of our lives, waiting this long to be truly intimate with each other?”
