you won the bet. There’s more to this than some silly bet we placed.”
The humor vanished from his face. “For the next few minutes, we’re in love. Whatever else we need to discuss can wait until we’re alone. Deal?”
Jenna nodded and blew out a breath. “Deal.”
Mac wrapped his arms around her, pulling her directly into his warm embrace. “I was never going to walk away,” he whispered in her ear. “I only left to give you the space you needed. I would never desert you.”
Tears pricked her eyes, emotions clogged her throat. Jenna nodded against his chest because words were not coming to her.
“Oh, you’re feeling better.”
Her mother’s elated voice cut into the moment and Jenna cringed. Would Mac grasp the fact that Jenna had lied to cover for him?
“I wouldn’t miss this party,” he replied easily, sliding Jenna around to the crook of his side. “Sorry I’m late.”
Mary waved a hand in the air. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just so glad you could join us. Jenna looks happier than she did when I first saw her.”
Mac threw Jenna a heavy-lidded glance. “I’ll make sure she’s always happy.”
The promise in his eyes, the conviction in those words gave Jenna a false sense of hope. Once again. He couldn’t possibly know what she was battling within. He couldn’t have any idea how much she wanted him to be serious, to be saying these things as a man who was falling in love.
But Mac O’Shea didn’t fall—in business or in love. He remained in charge, flitting from one moment to the next without a care in the world.
As if to solidify his statement, Mac kissed her. Nothing too intimate, just his lips to hers. A soft promise. A gentle understanding that he was a man of his word.
Yet, as plain and simple as his kiss was, Jenna felt as if she was twisted even tighter in his web. Despite her telling him to leave, he’d come back for her. He had nothing to gain by being here. Everything he’d done in the past three days was for her.
How could she not fall in love with a man who made her feel so special, put her first in his life and made her toes curl with the simplest of touches?
Those were some very good questions. Too bad she had none of the answers.
Mac stood on the edge of the dock, staring out at the inky water. They’d stayed at the bonfire well past midnight. For the requisite toast, Jenna had opted to have a glass of wine. He’d never seen her drink because of her mother’s past alcoholism. Mary had been clean for several years now and she’d not batted an eyelash when the wine was brought out. She was a strong woman; she’d raised strong daughters.
But the glass of wine on Jenna’s empty stomach had made her woozy and she’d clung to him all the way home.
Home. Ridiculous to think of this little structure on stilts in the water as home. Even more ridiculous to think of living with Jenna as home.
Once they’d returned, Mac had showered quickly to rid himself of the bonfire’s smoky scent. When he’d come out, Jenna had been pouring a glass of juice.
She’d downed that glass and headed to the shower. Mac had waited outside the bathroom door until she was done. The last thing he needed was her falling and hitting her head because she wasn’t used to alcohol.
Now he stood out on the deck, as far away from temptation as he could handle. Jenna was proving to be more of a problem than he’d originally thought. Well, she wasn’t necessarily the problem, but his unwanted emotions were. Over and over he told himself to leave her alone, to stop all the touching and kissing, but then he got near her and all of that logic vanished, quickly replaced by hormones.
Bare feet shuffled behind him and he forced himself to remain still. She was tipsy, no doubt vulnerable, and the last thing she needed was flirty advances from him. When she’d sent him away earlier, he’d promised himself when he came back he’d be on his best behavior. That hadn’t lasted long.
But he couldn’t forget the image of Jenna’s face when he’d arrived at the bonfire. She’d truly been shocked that he’d come back. Had she honestly thought he wouldn’t be there for her? What type of men had she been dating?
“My father left my mother when Amy and I were younger.”
Her soft words slid over him and he knew she was about to let him into that part of her world he’d never seen. After years of friendship, he truly knew nothing about her father...only that the man wasn’t in the picture. Mac also knew Jenna and Amy had different fathers, but everything else he knew about Jenna was from events he’d been present for over the past decade.
“Apparently he’d been cheating on her for some time,” Jenna went on. “Mom had no clue. She’d been so in love. She would have dinner ready when he came home from work. She’d iron his clothes and have them ready. She was always hugging him or laughing at his lame jokes. I saw the love in her eyes.”
Mac didn’t like the sorrow in Jenna’s tone, but he wasn’t about to stop her now. He needed to see inside her life in order to understand her better. But maybe she didn’t want him to know all of this.
“Is this a drunk confession?” he asked, only half joking.
“I’m not drunk.” Jenna laughed. “Okay, maybe a little tipsy, but I know full well what I’m telling you.”
Mac turned to face her and an instant punch of lust hit him hard. She leaned against the door frame, casual as you please, wearing a short, strapless dress that clung to her damp skin. Her wet hair lay perfectly over one shoulder. The glistening droplets covering her body caught the moonlight with each breath she took and it was all Mac could do to stand still and not go touch her.
“My mother was devastated when my dad left.” Jenna’s arms came up, wrapping around her midsection. “She was completely blindsided and the bastard left her a note. He was such a coward. He left a note to a woman who was so in love with him she would’ve done anything he asked. He left two little girls who had to grow up too fast and learn the harsh realities of life and marriage.”
The hitch in her voice gutted him. She’d dreamed of a wedding, she’d kept her mother’s wedding dress. Clearly she believed she’d find “the one” despite all she’d witnessed as a young girl.
His Jenna had hopes and dreams, and he was riding a fine line of destroying everything. He knew she was getting attached. He could feel it in her touch, taste the emotion in her kisses.
“Amy and I had no clue how to help my mom,” she went on, staring out into the night as if she were watching the events unfold before her. “She rarely got out of bed. When she did, it was to get a drink. Finally she started keeping the bottles by her bed. Amy would fix my hair for school and make sure to hold my hand as we went to the bus stop. Amy and I were pretty good at covering up the lack of parenting at our house until it came time for report cards and Amy forged my mom’s signature.”
Mac could easily see these two sisters looking after each
