Messing With Mac

“And we guessed. She had this…glow about her, and she was…I don’t know…happier than I’ve seen her in awhile. Maybe happier than I’ve seen her ever.” Suzanne nudged his shoulder with hers. “She never talks about it, never complains, but we know she’s had it rough. We’re her best friends, Mac, and we only just met six months ago. Before us, she had no one. I hate to think about her like that, so alone, but even with us hounding her all the time, she holds back. But with you…” She let out a gentle smile.

“Let’s just say we’re hoping she’s not holding back.”

He thought of the night he’d spent with Taylor.

The night he’d held her in his arms, the night they’d rocked each other’s worlds with what should have been a simple bout of healthy, recreational sex.

And had really been so much more.

He looked into Suzanne’s hopeful eyes and had to tell her the truth. “I don’t know what we’re doing, Taylor and I, but I doubt it’s going in the direction you’re thinking.”

“Oh.” Her sweet smile faded some. “Really?”

“Really,” he said regretfully.

She took away his napkin, and then on second thought, took the quiches as well.

“Hey-” His stomach growled in protest.

“Sorry. Turns out I don’t have any extra.”

MAC WENT HOME to more mail. Mostly bills, which he was making his way through, slowly, methodically, painfully. He tossed the entire stack to his table, toppling over the previous stack.

And revealed a thick packet from South Village’s Town Council. Staring at it, he told himself if they’d turned down his bids, it would have been a nice little white envelope with a short letter saying thanks but no thanks.

But then again, a thanks but no thanks could come with a stack of other projects to bid.

Hence the thick packet.

Heart pounding uncomfortably, he backed to a chair and plopped into it, his legs a little rubbery. Holding his breath, he ripped into the envelope and started reading.

TAYLOR’S ARCHITECT, Ty Patrick O’Grady, was a tall, dark, gorgeous man with an Irish accent, flashing eyes and a roguish smile.

Taylor happened to know who put that spectacular smile on his face on a daily basis. Nicole, who was going to marry Ty as soon as he convinced her to set an actual date.

But for now, Taylor and Ty, who had some last minute things to go over, were in a meeting. A walking meeting.

Ty grinned at her as they munched on soft pretzels and drank sodas, walking through the lunch crowd along a particularly swank street halfway between Ty’s home office and her building.

Using what was left of his pretzel, he pointed at a new upscale lingerie shop. The window display was what had caught his attention. More specifically, the naughty looking black leather skirt, matching crop top, five-inch spikes and whip.

Taylor knew she couldn’t so much as afford a pair of panties from the place. How times change, she thought with a sigh that didn’t really signify any wistfulness for the changes in her life. She loved where she was, and wouldn’t trade it for…well, for all the money in her grandfather’s estate.

And yet a new outfit once in awhile would be nice. Yes, she had gorgeous clothes, but all of them-like the emerald green sleeveless dress, matching strappy sandals and wide-brimmed hat she wore today-were leftovers from another era.

Those days were long gone, even if her clothing addiction wasn’t.

“I should buy that outfit for Nicole,” Ty said around a huge bite. “What do you think?”

Taylor laughed at the vision of Dr. Nicole Mann, out of her preferred jeans and doctor’s jacket, and into the leather. “She’d kill you.”

“Yeah.” Ty’s fond grin didn’t fade. “Love that woman madly, I do.”

At the utterly pathetically lovelorn expression on this big, tough, former bad boy’s Irish face, Taylor had to sigh. What would it be like to bring such a man to his knees with love?

Hell, she reminded herself viciously. It would be hell, at least on the heart.

She’d come close to forgetting that while lying in Mac’s arms, being driven crazy by his mouth, his touch, his voice. She’d come close to forgetting just about everything, including the fact he was never going to love her the way she secretly wanted to be loved.

She’d avoided him. Mostly because she was weak.

One look from his whiskey eyes and she’d leap right back into his arms and screw good pride. She’d take what she could get.

Well, the hell with that. “So about my bath room…”

“Yep.” Ty aimed that killer smile at her. “You can have that antique stand-alone bathtub on claws like you want. The floor will support it, and so will the plumbing. No changes required.”

“And the window turrets? That won’t change the structure of the roof?”

“It might piss off your contractor having to add trim now, but it won’t change anything major.”

Hmm. Pissing off Mac so he was as unbalanced as she was did have its merits. “How about I let you tell him.”

Ty, incredibly observant, cocked his head. “Is something wrong?”

“Of course not.”

“Mac working out okay?”

“Absolutely.”

Not fooled, Ty’s brilliant blue eyes narrowed. “I suggested him because even though he’s relatively new to this scale and scope of work, I’ve seen what he can do. The man is magic with his hands.”

Taylor stuck her tongue in her cheek. Oh good God, was Mac magic with his hands. “I know.”

“But something’s wrong,” he repeated, studying her closely.

“No, it’s nothing.” She looked into Ty’s worried gaze and managed a smile. “Nothing. Everything is great, you should see it.”

“Yes, let’s see it,” he said firmly, making her sigh. She’d learned there was nothing more protective than a man who was going to marry your best friend. “It’s blocks out of your way,” she protested, but Ty merely kept walking.

“Well, at least slow down,” she grumbled after him. “I’m not doing a marathon in these three-inch sandals simply because you’re feeling overprotective.”

“I wouldn’t be feeling overprotective if you’d tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing!”

“We’re just making sure, darlin’.”

They passed by several restaurants that had such delicious scents wafting from them Taylor could only inhale deeply and dream. Her budget meant dinner tonight consisted of a can of soup.

They turned the corner and passed three clothing stores that had her drooling, but the next shop, called Accents, had her wrinkling her nose in snobbery.

The “accents” for decorating were all new, cheap and in her opinion, tacky.

On her street now, right across from her building in fact, they came to a flower stand. Before they crossed, Ty touched a pot of daisies. He sniffed at the dozen wrapped roses, and smiled at the lilies.

“Sentimental fool,” Taylor murmured, having to smile when he shot her an admitting grin.

“Nicole has a soft spot for flowers,” he said.

What the rough and tough, cool-minded Nicole had was a soft spot for this man. “Go for it,” she said, her heart sighing.

He bought a dozen red roses and held them out to Taylor to smell.

Instead she leaned in close to the man, who in her opinion smelled better than any flower. “You are the sweetest fiance in town, you know that?” He looked so shocked, she laughed. “You are,” she insisted.

“Sweet.” He laughed, too. “Well, that’s a new one.”