Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
NATE
Another glance at my phone shows nothing. Not even a “thanks, but no thanks.” I bite back the disappointing growl threatening to escape and shove my cell into my shorts pocket. I shouldn’t be surprised Mackenzie never texted me her address. Of course she wouldn’t have. She’s every bit as stubborn as Ethan warned.
But can I blame her?
In truth, Mackenzie doesn’t know me. I’m nothing more than the stranger who tried to fix her tire alongside the road. If anything, she’s smart by not having a stranger come over. She is a single mother of two, after all.
Christ.
Single sounds wrong, but the truth—the truth of being widowed—sounds way worse. Or maybe it’s because she’s my friend’s widow. My one and only friend.
And how do I honor my friend’s wishes? By checking my cell phone repeatedly while recalling how gorgeous she looked with those auburn curls whisked into a loose bun. But I am a man. A weak one, apparently. I can’t help but picture her fresh face, free of all that makeup so many women wear. She’s a natural beauty I have no business lusting after. Not only is she my dead friend’s wife, but she’s also ten years my junior. She may as well be wrapped in a red flag because she’s as unapproachable as any communist party. Unwavering and off-limits.
I have one job to do, and that’s making sure I take care of her. I’m pretty sure that doesn’t mean in bed, no matter how quickly my body ignites into flames when she’s near. Ethan trusted me. I already let him down once. I can’t let him down again.
As my feet lead me into the auto repair shop, I make a pact with myself. I’ll convince Mackenzie to let me take care of her house issues, and then I’ll get the hell out of Naperville. Maybe once I’m gone, she’ll quit consuming my thoughts. But as I head toward the counter, I have to stifle a laugh from the irony. It’s hard to purge someone from your mind when they’re constantly around.
“Finally, getting those tires, are you?”
Mackenzie whips around, her eyes widening in surprise appreciation before narrowing.
“Nate, what are you doing here?” Suspicion laces her voice.
Great. Add stalker tendencies to my growing list of attributes regarding this woman.
I point to my truck out in the parking lot. “They fixed my air conditioner.” Finally.
“Oh. That’s right.” Her eyes trace along my body before she blinks as if she realizes what she’s doing. I can’t stop the smirk playing across my lips. I don’t know what it is about her, but I’ve smiled more around her this past week than in the past decade.
“So, your car’s all set?”
“Yes, they’re pulling it out now.” She tilts her head, eyebrows furrowing as if she’s contemplating something. Or she’s too reluctant to ask. After a beat, she finds her courage. “Is the offer to fix my faucet still open?”
“Of course, but you never texted the address.” The harshness in my statement surprises me. I need to tone down my irritation.
She bites her lips and averts her gaze. “Yeah, it’s been a busy afternoon.”
“I get it. You don’t know me.”
“It’s not that. It’s just . . .” Mackenzie’s voice trails off.
“It’s fine. I understand.” I dip my head to meet her gaze. “I’m here to help, though.”
Her brows pull together. “Why?”
Because your husband, that I got killed, asked me to. I have to bite back the truth. She won’t have anything to do with me if I speak those words. So, I justify the lie of omission by telling myself I won’t be in town long. I’m gone once I carry out Ethan’s wishes, and she’s settled. But to where is still in question. “That’s just how I’m wired.”
Her skepticism softens as appreciation coats those green eyes. Our bodies gravitate toward each other a fraction as the air shifts between us. Her hand lands on my forearm, and a million thoughts float through my mind. All of them wrong. “Thanks.”
“Ms. Gillman, you’re all set.” The owner’s voice snaps the spell between us as he returns and dangles her keys in his hand. I shift to her left as the door chimes, signaling another customer.
“Thanks, Hank. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. I am sorry to hear about Ethan. You and the kids going to be okay?”
I watch as her back stiffens. She immediately starts spinning her ring as guilt slams into me. What am I doing? I cannot be having those nefarious thoughts about my best friend’s widow.
“Thanks. It’s hard, but we’re doing the best we can.” She grabs her keys and turns back to me, her expression unreadable. “Is tomorrow too soon?”
“I’ll be there.”
An awkward beat passes before Mackenzie nods and turns to leave. It isn’t until Hank calls my name that I realize how hard I’m staring after her.
“Ah, yes.” I whip out my credit card to pay. “I appreciate you fixing it.”
“If you have any more problems, let me know.” He hands over my keys and yells to a guy who follows in behind Mackenzie. I’d place him in his upper twenties. “Let me go check on your Volvo. ”
“I’m in no hurry.” The guy steps toward me with an outstretched hand. “You must be Nate, the new guy in town.”
I narrow my eyes and wonder how this guy knows my name. His genuine smile and relaxed demeanor make it seem like we’re old pals, but I’ve never met this guy. I know the town is small, but damn. I feel as if I’ve stepped onto the Hart of Dixie set. Except, vineyards paint the landscape instead of Bluebell’s southern flowers. Realizing I’m being rude, I find my manners and shake his hand.
“Nate Dixon.” My voice comes across more stilted than anticipated, but considering I’ve been in town for less than a week, I don’t like being addressed by name. “I’m Mark Morgan. I’ve heard through the grapevine you’re staying at The Cabins. How long are you in town?”
“Not for long.”
“Just passing through?”
“Helping a friend.”
His eyebrows rise, and I realize my mistake in referencing Mackenzie as a friend.
“Oh. I wasn’t aware you knew people in town.”
“I don’t.” I come across as a prick, but I don’t care right now. This guy knows nothing about me, yet he thinks he does. “Someone needed roadside assistance on my way into town. It seems she needs other things serviced as well.”
Why the fuck am I offering this information to this guy?
“Oh, yes. Mackenzie.” He drags the words out as he studies me, and I realize how suggestive my phrasing sounds. Other things serviced. Christ.
“You sure you don’t know how long you’ll stay in Naperville?”
“Positive.” That’s partially true. I should be gone by tomorrow evening once I fix her plumbing issues.
Mark whips out a business card from his back pocket like a ninja. Kudos to him for being prepared. “I suggest spending a few days here. The town has a way of grabbing hold of you. If you find a place in Naperville to plant roots, call me. I can set you up. Otherwise, I hope to run into you again. ”
I take the card and read the label Mark’s Reality. Well, that’s one call I’ll never reference. I suppress the threatening grin. “Thanks, Mark. I’ll keep this in mind.” I tuck the card, which I have no intention of using, inside my wallet to appease the over-friendly stranger.
“Mark, your car’s set to go.”
He nods and turns back to me. “I’ll let you get back to it. But here’s a hint. If you’re replacing the fill valve, pack a hacksaw. Some of these new ones are set lower than the overflow pipe. You may need to shorten the overflow.” Mark winks and saunters toward Hank.
I stand dumbfounded. How the hell did he know I was fixing Mackenzie’s toilet? Exactly how small is this town? A little dazed, I exit and drive to Ace Hardware.
But as I stare at the plumbing parts and contemplate which fill valve to buy, I can’t help but wonder what the hell I’m doing. I’m a surgeon, not a plumber, but I can surely fix a leaky toilet. I grab various toilet guts, including a fill valve, and head to the tool section. The over-friendly guy may be nosey, but the bastard makes a valid point. I’ll need the correct tools. After the way my body reacted to seeing her again, I fear having the right equipment still won’t get me out of that house quickly enough.