by Megan Bryce
Mackenzie whispered, “I’ve crawled off those rocks before. I don’t think I can do it again.”
“You won’t have to. He’ll catch you.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“I will pick you up, dust you off, and help you beat his beautiful face to smithereens.”
Mackenzie sniffed. “You’d do that for me?”
Cassandra nodded. “It would hurt, but I’d do it.”
Mackenzie looked at the plane ticket. “He said I would know when someone really loved me.”
“Do you think he really loves you?”
Mackenzie took a deep breath, remembering when he’d said it, the hopeless light in his eyes because he knew she wouldn’t say it back. He’d been right. She couldn’t believe him, wouldn’t let herself love him for real. Wouldn’t play with everything she had.
She looked up at Cassandra with a terrified look on her face and Cassandra smiled. “I don’t look good in purple. Remember that for the bridesmaid’s dress. It makes me look like a zombie bride.”
“Is that a thing?”
“It is. And trust me, you don’t want to see it.”
Two days later, Mackenzie stood outside an old villa on the outskirts of an old village in Spain. Vines crept up the side of the house and a pink tricycle was parked forgotten on a patch of grass. She stared at the house for a long time until the door was opened by an extremely pregnant woman. The woman stared at her, not smiling, and finally said, “Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to come in?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
The woman snorted, shutting the door behind her, and waddled out to stand beside her.
“Think quickly. You’ve got about two minutes before he comes out here yelling at me to get back inside and sit down.”
Mackenzie looked at her in surprise. “Yell at you?”
The woman nodded her head. “It’s kind of funny.”
Mackenzie couldn’t remember one time, one time, that her father had ever yelled at anybody. He was cool and unruffleable. Cold and heartless.
The front door opened back up and her father looked at Mackenzie, expressionless. Then glared at his wife.
Heather said, “I’m going inside. I don’t want to hear another lecture today. Come in when you’re ready.” She looked at Mackenzie and rubbed her belly. “Try to make it today.”
Mackenzie followed hesitantly, watching her father as he came and took Heather’s arm to help her inside. He said, “I told you I would get her.”
“I was getting bored waiting. I’m on a time crunch.”
He escorted them to the kitchen table, waiting patiently for Heather to sit. He gestured Mackenzie into a chair and brought her a cup of steaming coffee and a chocolate-covered palmera.
Heather made a face at the water he gave her, although she snatched up the flaky pastry and took a big bite. She said, “The doctor says another week. I don’t think he knows what he’s talking about.”
Jake said, “You’re only hoping he doesn’t know.”
She nodded decisively, then said to Mackenzie, “I’ll be forty next year. I’ve already told your father that this is the last time I will do this. If he wants more children, he’ll have to trade in for a younger model.”
Jake smiled, bending down to kiss his wife’s hair before sitting down beside her. “And I’ve told her that this is my last one as well.”
Heather said, “And for some reason I don’t believe you. Every man wants a son.”
“Three girls.” He smiled. “Three girls who could take over the world by sneaking up behind it. That is no poor legacy.” He cocked his head, thinking. “Maybe that’s what I’ll name this one. Legacy.”
Heather snorted. “Over my dead body.”
“Oh, my dear. That could be arranged,” he said and Heather laughed.
“Are you still plucking that tired old string?” She shook her head and patted his knee. “Old dogs.”
His eyes twinkled over the rim of his cup as he took a sip.
Heather looked longingly at his cup before sighing and saying to Mackenzie, “Your father stole my inheritance from my mother and then, I thought, killed her. Turns out he didn’t. But he would have had he needed to.”
Jake shook his head. “I didn’t steal her money. She gave it to me.”
Heather looked at him, her temper peeking out. “I didn’t say you stole it from her. You stole it from me.”
He chuckled. “But look what you got in return.”
“Hmm.” She turned back to Mackenzie. “Your father was a scary man. Even scarier that no one else seemed to see it.”
Mackenzie didn’t look at her father. “I know what he was.”
Heather watched her silently, then nodded. “Yes, I see you do. Do you know what he is now?”
Mackenzie glanced at her father, at the amusement clear in his eyes as his wife and daughter dissected him.
Mackenzie said, “People don’t change.”
Heather sat back in her chair. “Well, that’s true. Except when they do.”
A little girl with honey-colored hair and tawny eyes peeked around the corner behind Heather’s chair. The little girl looked at Mackenzie, her eyes wide and round, and Mackenzie looked back. Up close she could see the differences between them. In the photo, the little girl had looked like a carbon copy of Mackenzie. But the shape of her eyes was slightly different, the bow in her top lip definitely from her mother.
The little girl smiled at her and Mackenzie’s gut clenched. The smile was all Jake Holden.
Heather said, “Come say hello, Laura,” and the little girl ran around the corner and hid her face into her mother’s side.
Laura peeked at Mackenzie, then noticed the palmera. She stopped being shy and grabbed the edge of the table, pulling herself up on her tiptoes and reaching for Mackenzie’s plate. She grinned a toothy grin at Mackenzie and babbled something utterly unintelligible. Heather pulled her back and pushed her to Jake. “Ask Daddy if he’ll share.”
Mackenzie watched the little girl climb onto Jake’s lap as if she did it a hundred times a day. Laura grinned at her father, pointing and babbling until he nodded at her. She reached for the chocolate-covered pastry with a large grin for her mother.
Mackenzie met her father eyes. “Definitely your daughter.”
He frowned. “Please. I am never so uncouth as to bask in front of my mark. That is her mother’s fault entirely. Heather likes to rub it in when she gets the better of someone.” He shook his head. “She has no subtlety.”
And Mackenzie could see real love in his eyes when he talked of his wife, when he looked at Laura. Pride was there, yes. But there was love, too. Mackenzie felt a twinge for the little girl she’d been. But she couldn’t be anything but happy that Laura had a father who saw more than a dollar sign when he looked at her.
Jake hadn’t loved her. Still didn’t. And maybe she should’ve seen it sooner. But maybe she could finally forgive that young girl. Forgive her for being a mark.
Mackenzie watched Laura stuff the pasty into her mouth, chocolate smearing across her face, and listened to her babble.
Heather put her hand on Jake’s knee and he took a deep breath. He said, “I didn’t know how to love back then.”
Mackenzie looked up into his eyes.
“You’ll see. When you have a kid, it doesn’t change anything about you. Still the same person you always were, but now there’s a little someone who takes everything you say, everything you do as Truth. I couldn’t love you. And it had nothing to do with you.”
Mackenzie stayed silent.
He said, “I’m not excusing what I did. I don’t expect you to ever forget. To forgive.”
Heather said, “She’s here, isn’t she?”
He looked at his wife. “Would you have forgiven your mother?”
Heather pinched her lips. “I don’t know. Maybe. If she was sincere.”
He wiped crumbs from Laura’s dress. “Liar.”
&
nbsp; Heather looked at Mackenzie. “Tell him why you flew across an ocean today.”
“I’m getting married.” Maybe Ethan hadn’t said those exact words, but he’d offered her half his company. If she wanted it.
She didn’t. But she’d take all his pecker.
Jake nodded. “And you came to invite me to the wedding in person?”
Mackenzie smiled at him and it wasn’t a nice smile. “No. I don’t want you anywhere near the O’Connors.”
Heather laughed and inhaled her water. She coughed and Jake thumped her on the back. She finally said, “Sorry. He was right on the money with that one. Said you’d never let him near your new family.”
Her new family. She blinked, thinking of Christine hearing her described as that. Then she smiled.
Mackenzie looked at Jake. “You squandered your chance at father with me. But I wanted to see… I wanted to see how you looked at me.”
“And what do you see?”
“I don’t see love.” He closed his eyes and she said, “But I do see regret.”
He kept his eyes closed and nodded.
Mackenzie said, “Why did you track me down in New York?”
He opened his eyes. “Because I have a family now that I couldn’t live without. And I wanted to see the family I threw away.”
“You expect me to believe your timing was coincidence? I get engaged to Ethan O’Connor and a few weeks later you show up?”
He looked at his wife out of the corner of his eye. “Let’s say I was pressured into going when I did. I wasn’t pressured into wanting to.”
Mackenzie looked down into her coffee cup– the cream rich, the sugar sweet. Just like she liked it. In ten years, he hadn’t forgotten. Maybe that was a horribly weak basis for a relationship. But she’d seen real love in Ethan’s eyes. She had someone to fall back on this time, if her father failed her again.
Mackenzie said, “Do you remember how my mother liked her coffee?”
Jake was silent as he stared at her. He opened his mouth and Heather interrupted. “Don’t bullshit her. Just tell the truth.”
He sunk back in his chair and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
Mackenzie looked at Laura’s chocolate-covered face and listened to her babble. The child only stopped to take a bite, and sometimes not even then. Mackenzie looked at Heather, her huge belly looking uncomfortable and imminent. And she looked at her father. Older, slower, and somehow tweaked. Maybe just enough.
She said, “Maybe we can be some kind of other family. Not father-daughter. But something else.”
Her father took his wife’s hand and squeezed. He nodded at Mackenzie. “I’d like that.”
Megan BryceSome Like It Charming
Ten
Mackenzie had stayed only one night in Spain before flying to New York. She’d promised to come back after the baby was born but she wasn’t prepared to actually be there for the event.
And she had a man to find and let know that he was officially taken. She needed to flip that one-woman sign on before he did something she’d be pissed about.
She knocked and knocked on his door, wondering if he could possibly be ignoring her.
She finally gave up and made her way across town to Christine and Ellen’s. The doorman allowed her through and she found Ellen waiting for her in the hall.
“I need to find Ethan.”
Ellen crossed her arms. “I thought you were brave enough for him.”
“I’m not.”
“Then what are you doing looking for him?”
She shrugged. “I’m maybe not brave enough for him, but I might just be stupid enough.”
His grandmother puckered her lips. Then she laughed. “Stupid. Brave. There’s not much difference between the two, is there?”
“It’s a very thin line.”
Ellen pulled her inside the door. “I for one am glad you’ve finally crossed to the other side.”
“I think you’re going to be the only one.”
Ellen chuckled. “Christine will come around. Eventually.”
“I won’t hold my breath.”
“I wouldn’t either. Christine thinks her son needs someone who will follow his lead. Who will stay home to care for the kids and hostess his parties. That’s what she had with Michael and it worked well for both of them.”
Ellen laughed at the expression on Mackenzie’s face. “But despite how much Ethan looks like his father, he’s not him. And what Christine really wants is her son to be happy. He’s happy with you. She’ll take the blinders off one of these days.”
Ellen flipped through her address book, writing down a name and a phone number, and handed it to her. “You’ll need this.”
Mackenzie looked at it, noting it was for reporter, then made a face. “So I can make a fool of myself?”
“No. So you can show Ethan you know the game. And are going to play it.”
Mackenzie took a deep breath. “I’ll play it. By my own rules.”
Ellen cackled. “Good. I’m betting on you.”
The reporter met Mackenzie at a restaurant early the next morning. She squinted at Mackenzie, then said, “Mackenzie Wyatt?”
When Mackenzie nodded, the woman sat down. “I almost didn’t recognize you. The hair.”
Mackenzie pushed her back-to-brown hair behind her ear self-consciously. “The blond was just temporary. I’m back to my natural color.” Or near enough. She’d thought if she was going to do this, she needed to do it as herself. Recognizable and all.
The reporter pulled out a recorder, turned it on, then took out a pad of paper. She said, “Is it true Ethan Howell O’Connor paid you a million dollars to marry him?”
Mackenzie smiled slightly. “Yes. Because any woman would need to be bribed to marry Ethan O’Connor.”
The reporter laughed. “Is there a pre-nup?”
“There will be. It should be illegal for a man of his wealth to marry without one.”
The reporter raised her eyebrows and Mackenzie said, “And, of course, there will have to be a no-cheating clause. Maybe something about cutting off his balls if he does.”
Mackenzie pointed to the reporter’s pad of paper. “Make sure you put that in.”
“Er, okay.”
The reporter scribbled quickly, then looked back up. “When is the wedding?”
Mackenzie shrugged. “We haven’t set a date yet.”
“And you’re not worried about that? Ethan doesn’t have a good track record with commitment.”
“Ethan has a great track record with commitment. He’s a one-woman man, remember?”
“But not a forever man.”
Mackenzie smiled. “I guess he was just waiting for the woman who scares the bejesus out of him.”
The reporter blinked and said, “Well, I’ll be rooting for you.”
Mackenzie nodded her head, thinking she’d be the only one. The whole world would be waiting for Ethan to drop her. If only so they could have their chance with him.
The reporter looked down at her notes. “One of his exes said he isn’t so pretty in the morning. Is that true?”
Mackenzie shook her head. “He’s horrifyingly gorgeous. It’s enough to give any woman a complex.”
The reporter looked as if she’d never thought about what it actually meant to wake up next to all that gorgeousness before.
“Just one more question. There have been so many rumors about him paying you to be his wife that I have to ask. Are you marrying him for his money?”
Mackenzie took a deep breath and said, “I’m marrying him because I love him.” She smiled and shrugged. “Every woman does.”
Ellen called her two days later, congratulating her on the interview, and telling her where Ethan could be found. He’d run to a lake house in Vermont after following her to Los Angeles.
Mackenzie had rented a car and drove north. It was a long drive and it gave her lots of time to think. To worry. To get mad about having to chase him. To remember that he’d chas
ed her, and then left her alone to figure it out without him hovering over her.
She pulled down the long, dirt driveway slowly, her stomach in knots. She’d seen love in his eyes. Love that didn’t disappear just because a woman had to think things over before she could make her way back to him.
There would still be love in his eyes when he saw her. But it might be hidden behind a layer of temper.
The house finally came into view and Ethan sat in a rocker on the porch, watching her car. Their eyes met through the windshield and he didn’t smile, just looked at her.
She parked her rental behind his white Range Rover and took a deep breath before getting out. She walked toward him, her eyes running him up and down. This was it, her last chance to turn around, to stop this from happening.
She stopped a step away from the porch and held the tabloid out to him. He took it reluctantly, glancing at it, then holding it up and reading it through.
When he was done, he dropped the tabloid to his lap and looked at her with his mouth hanging open.
She said, “I gave an interview. It felt one-sided with all your ex-girlfriends having their say.”
“Cut off my balls?”
She laughed. “That’s the first phrase that pops out at you?”
“Pretty much. And I would like to point out that that particular no-cheating clause would probably not hold up in court. Should you feel the need to execute.”
“I won’t. Right?”
He shook his head and she smiled. “I’m not really worried.”
He didn’t smile back.
She said, “That was what you wanted, right?”
Ellen had sure made it seem like Mackenzie wasn’t getting near him until she gave an interview.
He read the article again. Then nodded. “That was what I wanted.”
“Well, there you go.”
He stared at her. “I think you owe me money for this one.”
“It’s not that bad.”
He looked down again at the paper. “Oh, yes. Yes, it is.”
She tried not to laugh, she really did. But it came out anyway. At his petulant look, she said, “Okay, I’ll give you back that $57,000 you still haven’t given me.”
