Bold

by Mackenzie McKade

  His woman? Now where the hell had that come from?

  Could this day get any worse?

  “Yeah. We’ll be there after dinner,” Reece groaned.

  After begrudgingly thanking Tabby’s friends, he said goodbye to Devon and began to lock up the supplies inside the small cottage. Thursday they would paint the house and attach the shutters and other trim after it dried. Then they’d focus on the sultan’s tent. It was almost over.

  He should be happy, but he wasn’t.

  Less than an hour remained to get home, shower and get to the restaurant. Climbing into his truck, he realized the last thing he wanted was to go out to dinner with Lauren. The woman was attracted to him, and before this afternoon he could have said the same, but not now. Everything had changed. Now he couldn’t think past the knowledge that another man might hold Tabby tonight, and he had no right to stop it from happening.

  The weariness inside him intensified as he drove home. During the drive, the feeling that he had let something precious slip through his hands niggled at him. The truth of the matter was, Tabby deserved more than he could provide. Most of the time he was traveling out of state and sometimes out of country. A man like him would suck as a husband. And he didn’t even want to think what kind of an absentee father he’d make.

  Where that line of thinking came from he had no idea, but it didn’t make him feel any better about what he had to offer a woman.

  Pulling into his garage, he remained in the vehicle, thinking how he had screwed up one of the most exquisite moments in his life. In a burst of self-reproach, he swung the door wide and got out and entered the house. Immediately, he noticed something he never had before.

  Silence. No dog. No cat. Not even a damn bird to welcome him home.

  Yet before today—before Tabby—he had been content with his career and life.

  He had plenty to be thankful for. Both he and Brody were successful. Between them their mother was set for life. The wife of a dead sailor had it rough. Their childhood hadn’t been easy. She had sought odd jobs to keep her children fed and clothed, scraped every penny to put Brody through school while Reece had buckled down on his studies and received scholarships.

  “Damn you,” he groaned. Tabby had thrown a huge wrench into his perfectly planned world.

  On leaden feet he walked through the spacious kitchen that bled into the family and dining room, making an open room. No matter where he stood, he could gaze out over the ocean. The four-bedroom house was too large for a single man. What had he been thinking when he built it? At the time he had considered what type of house would be good for resale. Yet he had been fooling himself. He never planned to leave Whispering Cove.

  As he entered his bedroom, decorated in dark tones and distinctly male furniture, bulky and heavy, he tore his T-shirt over his head and stopped, smelling paint thinner, dust and something distinctively erotic.

  “Tabby,” he whispered.

  He hadn’t noticed until now that her scent coated his skin. The woman had marked him as thoroughly as if she had tattooed her damn name on his ass, or more accurately, his heart.

  No. Not his heart. It couldn’t be his heart.

  They were friends—only friends.

  After undressing, he slipped into the shower, soaping and rinsing quickly, before stepping out on the throw rug to dry off.

  He would have been dressed and out of the house sooner, but he added a little extra cologne to smother Tabby’s scent, only to end up smelling like a gigolo in a French whorehouse. Try as he might, her sweet fragrance lingered, even after he jumped back into the shower and changed his clothes twice. Now he prayed Lauren didn’t get the wrong idea and think he was trying too hard.

  The drive to the restaurant had been a short one. He sighed when he saw the parking lot jam-packed, so he drove down the street and pulled his vehicle to the side of the road, turning the ignition off. The rich aroma of charcoal and barbeque mixed with the usual seafood fare wafted in the cool night air.

  When he entered the steakhouse, Lauren was waiting for him at a table. She smiled sweetly as he slid into the booth across from her.

  “You look nice tonight, Lauren.”

  And she did.

  Instead of the uniform she wore at the police station, she had on a sundress with a light wrap that joined her long blonde hair to drape across smooth, creamy shoulders. Shoulders he had once thought about exposing and nibbling on, but they didn’t appear that appetizing tonight.

  “So do you.”

  “Thank you.” He reached for idle chatter while his mind wandered to the Seaside Pub, wondering if Tabby had arrived. “Did you have a good day today?”

  “A slow day is a good day for us.” She paused, angling her head as she curiously stared at him. “Everything okay?”

  “Just a lot to do. Guess I’m a little tired.” And distracted, but he left that excuse unspoken.

  She took a sip from her wineglass. “How are the booths coming along?”

  “The cottage will be finished tomorrow, and then we’ll start the sultan’s booth structure either later that evening or early Friday morning. It shouldn’t take us more than three hours.”

  “You’re cutting it close.”

  He sighed. “You’re telling me.” It seemed as if he was cutting a lot of things close these days.

  “Sultan’s tent? That sounds interesting. Did you have a harem of women in mind when you thought of that idea?”

  “The design of the sultan’s tent was Tabby’s brainchild, the cottage as well.”

  “Hmmm…” Lauren raised an inquisitive brow. “Sounds like the two of you work well together.”

  There was that insinuation again that Tabby and he worked well together.

  He made a noncommittal throaty noise before he picked up his water glass and took a drink. “What’s good here?”

  He grabbed the menu, hiding his thoughtful expression behind it. Not only did he and Tabby complement each other on the job site, they were beyond believable in bed. Memories of her hands touching him, her rapid breaths, her sensual cries, made his cock twitch.

  “Since this is my first time here, I can’t say.”

  Shit. He was such an idiot.

  “That’s right.” Where the hell was his game face when he needed it? And, why couldn’t he get thoughts of Tabby out of his fuckin’ head? “So what looks good to you?”

  Returning his gaze to the numerous items available, he attempted to focus, but the image of Tabby in his arms returned with a vengeance.

  “Reece?”

  He lowered the menu and gazed at Lauren across the table.

  “Where are you tonight?” She softly added, “Because you’re not here with me.”

  “I’m sorry.” He placed the menu on the table and ran a hand over his head. “It’s just this damn festival—” The partial truth came easily.

  “Since we both have to eat, why don’t we order and then call it a night? I’m supposed to help Andie with some of the festival arrangements early tomorrow.”

  He wanted to take Lauren up on her offer, but instead he took the gentlemanly approach. “I thought perhaps we’d stop in the Seaside Pub after dinner. Maybe dance.” At least that had been his plans earlier in the week.

  Before she could respond, a male waiter clad in black slacks and an iron-pressed white shirt and tie stepped up to their table. “Sir, would you like a drink or cocktail?”

  Several shots of whiskey with a beer chaser came to mind. “I’ll take a beer, and I think we’ll start with stuffed mushrooms, if the lady agrees.”

  “Sounds delicious.” Her eyes twinkled as she gazed at Reece.

  “Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked.

  After selecting two prime ribs, baked potatoes and rice, Reece found himself at a loss. He never had a problem talking to women. Of course, he had never been with one woman while thinking of another either.

  “So is my brother treating you right at work?”

  “Brody is
a pleasure to work for.”

  Knowing that she had only lived on the coast for about eighteen months gave him thoughts on what next to say. “How do like Whispering Cove?” He couldn’t remember where she lived previously.

  “It’s beautiful here and the people are so friendly. It’s a great place to raise children.”

  He had never looked at his hometown in that vein, but now that Lauren mentioned it, the quiet village had been a wonderful place to grow up. Maybe that’s why Brody and Andie had decided to remain there and raise their family. If he ever considered having children, Whispering Cove would be his choice too.

  Their conversation flowed easily through the appetizers and the clam chowder, but slowed during dinner. As he raised another juicy piece of steak to his mouth, he realized it was nearing nine. The Seaside Pub would be in full swing. Tabby would be in full swing. His only saving grace was that Devon would be in attendance to look after his rambunctious sister, and due to the damn bet with Hauk, so would Reece later tonight.

  “Reece, this has been lovely, but it’s getting late.” Lauren studied him as if dissecting him limb by limb. “I should leave.”

  Guess he hadn’t been successful in hiding the fact he was preoccupied.

  As she started to rise, he said, “What about dessert?”

  “Skipping it. I’m saving up for the festival’s goodies.” Lauren tugged her wrap around her shoulders.

  Crawling out from behind the booth, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a couple of large bills, throwing them on the table before he followed her outside.

  When they reached her car, he realized he’d really messed this date up. “Good night, Lauren.” He opened her door, and then leaned in, kissing her on the cheek. “We’ll have to do this again.”

  “I’d like that,” she said. Yet he got the distinct feeling she wouldn’t be holding her breath.

  He watched the taillights of her vehicle fade before he headed down the street to the Seaside Pub. It was a short walk, besides there might be a chance he wouldn’t find another parking spot any closer. If he’d been smart, he would have gone straight home. Hauk would understand. But nooooo.

  Reece McGrath couldn’t do the smart thing.

  He was rewarded for his impetuousness when he stepped inside the pub, coming face-to-face with the woman who had effectively left her brand on him.

  Tonight Tabby had exchanged her beloved knee-high boots for four-inch spiky stilettos that complemented every curve of her silky legs. He got an eyeful since her black leather skirt had to be the shortest he had ever seen. Her matching halter top plunged low in the back, as well as in the front, displaying more than it concealed.

  Holy shit! Devon must be having a coronary because Reece’s heartbeat had screeched to a halt. He had yet to close his mouth and raise his chin from where it lay somewhere on the floor.

  “Reece.” Indifference bounced off his name.

  “Can we talk?” he asked hesitantly, gauging her mood.

  “Nothing to say. Today has already been forgotten. Have fun.” She spun around, and just like that she brushed him off as easily as if she had flicked a pesky insect off her shoulder.

  Tabby’s survival mode kicked in, screaming, Keep it together. She would never let Reece know he had demolished her as thoroughly as if he had been the wrecking ball and she the weak, unstable building waiting to be torn down. But that’s exactly how she felt running into him. Her damn legs even threatened to give out beneath her. Add a huge dose of embarrassment and shame and she was well on her way to winning the biggest loser award, and it had nothing to do with losing weight.

  Narrowing her sights on the bar, she prayed she wouldn’t trip, fall or worse, break into tears. She’d cried enough. Now it was time to pull up her big-girl panties and have the time of her life tonight, forgetting about Reece.

  “One-fifty-one and Coke,” she hollered over the loud crowd.

  Hauk gave her a concerned glance. “That’s your third, Tabby.”

  “My man can count,” Vic said with a giggle. She put a knowing palm on his shoulder before she moved from behind the bar to join Tabby.

  “Sooo?” Vic owned the Whispering Salon and had the pulse monitor on all rumors, but she was a friend, a trustworthy friend. Still Tabby didn’t want to air her dirty laundry, especially when her emotions were so close to the surface.

  “What?” Her defensive tone didn’t help much.

  “Oh honey, you’ll have to tone down the attitude if you want me to believe nothing is wrong. Even Hauk arrowed in on those nasty vibes you’re emanating.”

  Damn. “It’s that obvious?”

  The light brunette nodded, snapping her gum. “What’s up, sweetheart?”

  “I’ve made a decision.” Tabby appreciated the note of confidence in her voice.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’m moving on with my life.”

  Vic raised one neatly plucked brow. “Which means?”

  “Reece. He’s history.” Without being encouraged to say more, she blurted. “He’s just like that damn Adam Collins.” The local playboy and fireman who had put out more hearts on fire than she cared to think about. “Neither one of them is looking for anything other than a quick lay in the hay, and then they’re off having dinner with someone else in less than two hours.”

  “Ohhhh…now I see.” The longer Vic stared with those knowing eyes, the faster tears rushed to Tabby’s.

  “I have to get out of here.” She spun around, but before she got to the door a hand jutted out and snatched her forearm. Teeth clenched, she raised a fist, ready to throw a right hook, when she noticed it was Jack who held her. She trembled, trying to control the barrage of emotions assailing her from all directions like missiles.

  “You okay, baby?”

  “She’s fine.”

  Now where the hell had Reece come from?

  “I’m talking to her,” Jack growled.

  “And I’m talking to you,” Reece sharply countered.

  Tabby rolled her gaze toward the rustic ceiling. “This is just great.” She jerked her arm out of the man’s grasp. “While you two barbarians continue with your pissing contest, I’ll just mosey outside for a little air—alone.”

  The second she stepped outside, a cold breeze swirled around her and she shivered. She should have grabbed her sweater. The days were exceptionally warm, but the nights were still chilly. Chalk that up to just another bad decision in a long list of them today. Inhaling the salty ocean air helped to hold on to the reins of her control as she wielded the invisible straps like an expect horseman, mentally pulling back so hard she choked on a sob perched on her tongue. Successfully she held her tears in check, barely.

  Yay! One point for Tabby.

  When Vic sashayed through the still open door, she wasn’t surprised. Her friend didn’t say anything, only leaned against the weathered wood siding, her closeness enough to lend support. After about ten minutes, she blew a puff of warm air against the cold night, creating a cloud of white.

  “Ready?”

  “Yep.” Tabby inhaled, steeling herself for whatever else the night would bring.

  Together they walked back into the Seaside Pub. The second Jack saw them he came forward.

  “Dance with me?” he said to Tabby.

  “I’d love to.”

  As he led her onto the dance floor, she resisted the urge to scan the room for Reece. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, it was none of her business—not that it ever had been.

  The music played a sweet melody as Jack took her into his arms. She pressed her cheek to his chest, soaking in his warmth and shutting her eyelids to close out the world. That is until she heard Reece’s sultry crooning. She pinched her eyelids tighter, holding on to Jack as if he were an anchor in a rough sea.

  The chorus of Keith Whitley’s song “Don’t Close Your Eyes” sent a pang straight to her heart that forced her eyes wide.

  God. She loved Reece’s voice. He used to patronize her
from time to time, singing to her just to get her to do something she hadn’t wanted to when they were children. As they had grown up, so had his voice. Deep. Sexy. In their teens she had deliberately caused problems or acted out just to hear him sing.

  The memories proved too much for her to bear. “Let’s get out of here.” She hated the weak plea, but she wouldn’t stay there and put herself through such torture.

  “Sure.” Jack weaved his fingers through hers. Before they left the bar they stopped to retrieve her sweater. They had just slipped outside when Devon called her name.

  Pushing her arms through the sleeves of her cardigan, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “What?” she snapped.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he grumbled.

  “For a walk.”

  “You won’t get far in those useless shoes.”

  She whirled around so fast that she nearly lost her balance in those useless shoes. “Cram it, Devon. I’m twenty-one. What I do is my business. Now deal with it.”

  The concern burning in her brother’s eyes nearly undid her, but he had to learn she was responsible for her actions. Good or bad. He couldn’t watch over her forever. Feeling like something scraped off the bottom of those useless shoes, she released Jack’s hand and strolled over to Devon.

  “I love you, bro, but it’s time to let me go.” Just like she had Reece.

  His strained gaze darted to Jack before returning to hers. “I know, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Too late—been there, done that, bought the fuckin’ heartbreak T-shirt.

  Perched on tiptoes, she eased up and kissed him tenderly on the cheek, whispering, “I’ll be okay,” in his ear.

  “Promise me.”

  Forcing a smile, she said, “Promise.”

  She could feel Devon’s gaze on her back as she returned to Jack.

  As they ambled in no particular direction, he asked, “You okay?”

  “Honestly? I’ve been better.” She pulled to a stop. “You know, Jack, I’m really sorry, but I think I’ve had enough fun for one night.”

  “Will you be around tomorrow?”

  “I have a full day of preparing for the festival, but I might drop by the Seaside Pub later in the evening, if you’ll save me a dance.”