Chapter 7 #2
I head out the door with Mackenzie, who’s unusually quiet. She seemed surprised to see me today considering her mom told me that Mackenzie wanted my help. Not that it matters. Mackenzie and I are done. This is just one of those small-town favors people do for each other.
She unlocks her dad’s pickup truck and climbs in the driver’s side. After I get in, she programs the GPS and then looks at me solemnly. “Doesn’t it bother you being a workhorse on a Saturday?”
“I don’t mind helping you out.”
“Helping me out?”
“Yeah, your mom said you wanted my help.”
Her lips purse. “Hmm.” She backs out of the driveway. “I have a plan. Well, I will have a plan.”
“You know some back roads?”
“Yes, but that’s not what I meant.” She bangs on the steering wheel. “It’s so obvious I can’t believe I fell for her faux surprise.”
“Faux surprise? You mean from your mom? When?”
“Who else? And the denial! Ugh. I should’ve known when she warned me off you the first time we met.
Why say I should stay away from you unless she wanted me to do the opposite?
She probably counted on my dry spell. Oh, that is so wrong.
And then they sent us to Happy Endings to put the catering dishes away.
She wanted us to hook up in that closet. ”
“What!”
She shakes her head. “My aunts warned me that one day I’d be caught in her matchmaking web, but I wouldn’t know it until it was too late. So devious. So subtle. If I wanted her matchmaking, I would’ve joined the club!”
“I’m lost. What club?”
She glances at me before making a turn. “It’s a long story. Basically, Mom started the Happy Endings Book Club as a way to matchmake all of her friends, which would ultimately lead to a thriving wedding planning business.”
“Matchmaking for work?”
“Oh, it was subtle, persistent but subtle. From what I heard, only women showed up to the book club, and it became a solid friend group.”
“Cool.”
She presses her lips into a flat line. “That’s what they thought, but she was still working in the background.
Joke’s on her because every single friend found the love of their life before she did.
Dad was there the whole time right under her nose, but neither of them could see what they had until her mom married his dad. ”
I cock my head at the implications. “Your parents are stepbrother and stepsister?”
“It’s not gross like that. They were already out of the house, around our age—oh, now it makes even more sense. I’m the age she was. You’re the age—”
“Me?”
She stops at a traffic light and looks at me, an unholy gleam in her eyes. “Here’s the plan. We’ll pretend to have a serious relationship to get Mom to admit she’s happy we’re together, which will expose her devious matchmaking.”
“I can’t lie to your mom.”
“Not lie exactly. We’ll go out together in public. She’ll just draw the wrong conclusion. Subtle, see? Like her matchmaking. And then I’ll catch her in the act, rat her out to Dad, and this will never be a problem again.”
“Weren’t you all about keeping things between us a secret?”
“That only applied for our one-night stand. Discretion in a small town, not wanting to deal with Mom’s I told you so.”
“More like six-night—”
“She way overstepped. Cal, she made me think I was being paranoid.”
I keep my mouth shut, even though she sounds a wee bit paranoid.
She continues, “Look, I love my weird mom, but she has a long history of matchmaking, foisted some completely unhinged candidates on me in the past, and even after making a solemn promise to my dad that she’d never do it again, she did. With you! So here we are. Are you in?”
Hmm, fake public dating doesn’t sound very fun. And won’t her parents be mad that we faked them out? I don’t need to make enemies in my new adopted town. I’ve got a law practice to keep afloat.
I attempt to reason with her. “Your mom warned you away from me because she thought I wasn’t good enough for you—”
She squeezes my arm. “You’re plenty good enough.”
My chest puffs out. It’s kinda nice to hear. But let’s be logical.
“Won’t our serious relationship make her mad?” I ask.
“If it does, then we’ll end the pretend relationship. If it doesn’t, then I’ll call her on her matchmaking. She hates to upset Dad, and he takes solemn promises seriously. It’s a matter of honor. Here’s what we’ll do—”
“Hold on.” I let the solemn-promise-to-Dad thing slide, even though the lawyer in me thinks she should’ve had that solemn promise made directly to her. Instead I focus on an advantageous loophole. “What do I get out of this pretend serious relationship?”
“No sex.”
“Did I say sex?”
“No sex.”
“Damn.” I miss you. Ah, hell. I do miss her. And it’s not just about sex, but at the same time I miss that part too.
Sometimes I dream about her, which I will admit only if she admits she misses me because pride. I have some.
She turns onto the highway and accelerates at a moderate pace.
She drives cautiously. I get the feeling that’s how she lives her life.
Except for the night of our first hookup when she peeled out of the parking lot, I’m guessing due to her eagerness to be with me.
I smile to myself. That was a wild night.
My mind drifts once again to the moment her dress fell to the floor.
“Here’s what you’ll get out of it,” she says.
I snap back to reality. “Yeah?”
“I’ll pay for our dates and throw in one Sunday family dinner so you can have more of Dad’s cooking. I’ll ask him to make his famous beef stew with fresh-baked sourdough. It’s to die for.”
“I don’t need you to pay, and as much as I like good food, this isn’t about seeing more of your family. Your mom invites me to Sunday dinner every week.”
“See?”
I go in for the big win. “This plan hinges on us being seen together in public, but I don’t think that will prove anything. Everyone will think we’re just friends. Hailey’s daughter showing the new guy around town.”
She’s quiet for a moment.
Victory lap coming up. Never negotiate with a lawyer.
“Okay,” she says, “we’ll have some public displays of affection.”
“Are we talking three, four gestures per date? Give me the scope of some.”
She smiles. “You really sound like a lawyer.”
“Thank you.”
“I went on a date with a lawyer I met in a bar once. He was so-o-o boring.”
I’m sensing an insult here, so I go on the offensive. “Seeing as how we already hooked up, I don’t think the affection thing will work.” I’ll want more.
“Why not? It’s easy—hold hands, arm around the shoulders, just smile at me a lot, okay? And I’ll gaze at you like you set the moon.”
“So no kissing.”
“Probably best not to, don’t you think?”
She’s awfully cheerful about not kissing me considering she was all over me in bed for a week. And very enthusiastic about it, too. My pride dwindles a bit. I really would like to at least kiss her.
“I think this sounds like a terrible plan.” A torturous, terrible plan. Before I can figure out how to request time spent with her in a non-fake way on a few occasions, not too many, but some, she ups the ante.
“I’ll help bring your sister to town to work for me, thereby ending her bad relationship.”
“Hmm.” I hate to admit it, but I’ve failed Sutton for years, letting her stagnate. All she does is take care of Dad, work, and take whatever scraps of time her stupid boyfriend spares for her.
Mackenzie smiles like she knows she’s won. “And that’ll also be nice for you to have family in town. I’ve been wanting to bring Sutton into a larger role for a while now but not while she’s remote.”
Sutton idolizes Mackenzie as a businesswoman. It could be good for Sutton. And I wouldn’t mind having her around. She idolizes me too.
I take a moment to admire Mackenzie in profile while she passes a slow car, from her cute upturned nose to her soft cheek, long hair, and her sexy body in a snug sweater and jeans. She’s so beautiful.
I put on my most casual tone. “Okay, but I’d like to put kissing back on the table. It’s only natural in a couple.” And my kisses have been known to melt this woman into a puddle of aching need. It’d be nice if I wasn’t the only one dealing with aching need.
She purses her lips, considering. “Okay, but only in public. Also, I’ll touch you frequently, and your job is to enjoy it and not reciprocate.”
“You seem to have mistaken me for a eunuch.”
“A what?”
“Not having—never mind. Look, I’m all for you touching me wherever and whenever, but you can’t expect me not to reciprocate. I’m not dead. Understand?”
She gives me a sideways glance. “You want sex?”
“I want reciprocation.”
“Private reciprocation.”
“Public’s fine.” If that’s what you’re into.
She’s quiet again. I can almost hear the wheels turning in her brain.
I lower my voice to a husky tone that usually gets results. “Mackenzie, am I free to reciprocate touching frequently?”
“Mmm…yes.”
“Then I agree to your terms.”
“I can see why you became a lawyer.” She powers down her window. “I’m so hot. Isn’t it hot in here?”
I hide a smile. “Sure.”
She turns the vents toward her and shifts the heat to cool.
Aw, hell. Pride be damned. “I’ve missed you,” I admit.
“In your bed.”
“In general.”
She powers the window back up. “You only knew me in your bed. Just be honest.”
I clamp my mouth shut because I’m dangerously close to admitting how much I think about her—too much—and trying to argue that we’re good together. Somehow the more she pushes me away, the more I realize how much I want to be with her. Is it the chase? I’ve never been so off balance with a woman.
“It’s just a game, Cal, okay?” Her voice rises to a panicky pitch. “Can you play the game? If not, we should shut this down right now.”
Easy. Take it slow. I recognize that panic. It’s the moment before you bail. Been there. “I can play the game.”
“Good.”
For now. She has no idea about my competitive streak. I play to win.