Chapter Eighteen
Big plans for Labor Day weekend?
Mack sent the text on his way home from Paris. He’d been gone for a few days, meeting with various lily oil suppliers. His factory was experiencing a shortage, and with the rollout of a new scent they couldn’t afford to be low. He’d explained this all over a quick brunch last week. We’d gone for a run together—which was awkward since running had always been a therapeutic time for me, not social—and then we’d hit up a nearby café, all sweaty and stinky.
I have a client tomo at noon, and then I’m off all weekend. Might binge a TV series.
I wasn’t fishing for an invite or a plan. Other than our running and brunch date, I hadn’t seen Mack. Well, he did leave for Paris that Monday, but he hadn’t offered to go out Saturday night or Sunday and didn’t seem inclined to jump into bed again. Since I wasn’t twenty-five, I didn’t mention any of this to Rachel or my sister when she’d called a few days ago. In fact, I didn’t mention much to Ashley, other than I was thinking about seeing Mom and Dad. She was still hopelessly in love, with no plans to return to the States. And to be honest, it didn’t seem like she cared about much other than herself.
As for me, I couldn’t stop thinking about the deep furrow in Mack’s brow. It felt as if there was an extra worry on his plate. He didn’t share, and I didn’t ask.
Any chance you’d binge the show with me? In the Hamptons?
I gulped my coffee and stared at the phone, thinking I might need to work on reconciling when a man was busy with work and not blowing me off. Clearly, it was a byproduct of Jeremy deserting me. I needed to make quick work of ditching the habit.
Maybe. What do you think of the British monarchy?
Nothing better…pick you up at 4 tomo?
Did this mean he’d resolved whatever was bothering him, or he planned to share it with me? There was no escaping that I wanted to see the man, so I replied yes and padded to my closet to see what I should pack. Later that night, I got a text from Corey asking me for a grocery list, stressing I didn’t have to cook, but if I wanted to, send him the ingredients.
Deciding on brunch foods, grilled fish with veggies, and an apple pie, I kept my order small.
That’s nothing, Corey noted.
I didn’t respond. Rather, I met with my client, got them fitted with a suit for a fall wedding they were attending and several casual looks for an upcoming trip of theirs, and went straight home to get ready for Mack.
“Want to go for a swim?” Mack asked, an inviting smirk on his face.
“What?” I asked, inserting a coquettish lilt to my tone.
Two could play this flirting game.
It was after we’d eaten Italian takeout and caught up on the week, and the need and sexual tension between us was climbing. Mack had secured a new supplier for lily oil and explained a bit on how it was extracted from the flower. Which reminded me that I’d been wanting to tell him something about the bloom, but apparently we’d moved on to new topics.
“A swim?” Mack repeated himself.
I cut to the chase. “A naked swim?”
“It could be arranged…”
“Hmmm…I hadn’t thought about skinny-dipping. I did bring a swimsuit.”
Mack leaned closer, running his hand behind my hair, his palm settling at the nape of my neck, and kissed me. It was closed-mouth, soft, and tender. Our lips lingered for a while until Mack pulled back.
“Missed you,” he said as though this was commonplace.
“I don’t know what to say. My life was chugging along before you, and now it’s racing to places unknown.”
“Like the pool?”
His palm caressed my cheek. He might have been teasing with his words, but his eyes showed me that he got me. He understood my apprehension. Maybe he matched it in spades, but the pool and Mack naked sounded better than a serious chat.
“To the pool.” I stood, untying my dress at the shoulder and letting it fall to the patio. I stood in front of him in my lace thong and matching bra.
He stared for a beat, and then stood and made haste with his own clothes. “You still take new clients?” Mack asked, slipping his hand in his boxer briefs and shoving them down.
Earlier, I’d mentioned a new client at work. “Maybe. Depends on who refers them.”
Mack got close, invading my space, sliding my bra strap off one shoulder, leaning in and running his tongue along my clavicle. “What if I referred myself?”
He ran his tongue back up my neck, his lips meeting my mouth, and we stopped talking. His hand slid down my back and into the waistband of my thong, shoving it down. I helped, kicking off my flip-flop and lifting my leg out of the small panties. He unclasped my bra and it met the pile of clothes on the ground before he took my hand and led me to the pool.
Mack’s eyes seared into me as I traversed the steps into the water, grateful for it being warm and covering my belly. I was old enough to know not to mention those types of things in mixed company. I was never fishing for compliments, but it came off insincere and immature so I kept my negative thoughts at bay, locking them away.
The water rippled behind me, and then Mack was everywhere—behind me, sliding in front of me, walking me toward the wall, mouth on me as my legs came around his waist.
Gone was the worry over what was bothering him. We’d found out as much as we could on Paps, and there was nothing I could do to change his ending. I could have a few magnificent moments of my own with this man who’d come to mean something to me, so I did.
We kissed, the night sky darkening, the quiet murmur of the water, an occasional hum of a bird or insect littering the air, and our breaths swirling.
“I’ve never wanted to get back to someone when I was away. I only ever returned to Corey and my apartment.”
My hand slid up his damp back and I squeezed his shoulder blade. “I’ve never missed anyone,” I admitted.
We spoke through broken kisses and ragged moans. I felt Mack’s fingers tickle down my side, finding their way to my heat. Right there, in the pool, naked for anyone to see—not really, he had a very private backyard—Mack brought me to climax so quickly, I was a goner.
I’d never hit the crescendo so fast or furious, and I was ready for all of Mack. “Please,” I mumbled.
“You don’t have to beg. I’m here for your taking,” Mack told me, sucking on my earlobe and using a hand to guide himself inside me.
It was a heady sensation, the added friction of the water, our slapping sounds against the still evening…
“Now you know why I wanted to get the groceries. No interruptions,” Mack uttered as he drove faster.
I felt myself building again, and like he knew, Mack slowed.
I think his name came out like a growl, and he responded with, “Patience, Feisty Frankie.”
I lightly bit into his shoulder as he took his time…
“Savoring you,” he said with his hand behind me, protecting my back.
“Need you,” was what I think I mumbled, and Mack picked up speed.
“God, Frances,” he groaned. “I never…never thought this would be for me…”
I couldn’t respond because his words toppled me over the edge, and Mack started going with me, and together we hit a furious pace, striving for whatever this was to become…lust gone viral, feelings, or just a quick and awesome lay.
Later, cleaned up, showered, and in bed, my head lay on Mack’s chest while he ran his fingers through my hair. I remembered there was one detail I hadn’t shared. I didn’t know why I hadn’t said anything. Maybe because I wanted to know where the Jimmy and Rosie mission ended, and Mack and Frankie began.
Mack interrupted my mental war. “What’s got your head working overtime? I can practically feel you overthinking.”
I closed my eyes and spoke. “Remember the first set of letters?”
I felt Mack nod behind me.
“And they spoke about the lilies? And you said that was Silky’s first scent?”
“Yes.” His answer was raspy as his hand traveled down my arm and up again.
“I should have told you then, and I don’t know why I didn’t,” I rambled. “Maybe to protect me, or Paps, or you, or all of us.”
“What’s going on?”
He didn’t sound impatient or mad, which blanketed me in compassion. “I don’t want there to be secrets, okay?”
“No secrets.”
“My middle name is Lily. Before you say anything, it could be a coincidence, or just dumb luck…”
His fingers interlaced with mine, and I went on with my longwinded explanation.
“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you after you read the letters. It’s probably meaningful to note…I thought about it for a long time after I read them. Although it means my parents might know some of the story or not. Who knows? My Paps was influential and could have asked them to give me the name. Or maybe my mom really liked the name. I’m not close with them much anymore, and I never really asked them…”
“Or maybe it was about Jimmy keeping a piece of Rosie with him.”
I felt a tear well in the corner of my eye. “Maybe. You’re not mad?”
“No. You told me when you were ready. Solving Jimmy and Milly’s love affair was never my mission. If anything, it makes me think you’re even more meant for me with Lily as your middle name.”
Without interruptions, the rest of the weekend passed in a flurry of easygoing times and intimacy.
It was hard not to get swept into false hopes of a budding fairy tale.