factory turquoise from back in the day. Nice.” Dylan ran his hand lovingly over the hood of her car. “She’s yours?”
Mackenzie nodded quickly before she walked to the back of the delivery sedan; she unlocked, and then lifted up, the heavy back hatch of the vehicle.
“Who did this restoration?” Dylan asked as he leaned down and looked at the interior of the Chevy.
“A place up near Sacramento.” Mackenzie wanted to be vague. Her brother, Jett, who had restored her Chevy at his hot-rod shop, had been friends with Dylan back in middle school. In fact, the last time Mackenzie had seen Dylan Axel was at Jett’s wedding nearly eleven years ago.
“Well—they did an insane job. This car is beautiful. I’d really like to take a look under her hood.”
“Hey!” Jordan poked her head around the back of the car. “Are you gonna help us out here, Axel, or what?”
“I’m helping.” Dylan laughed as he strolled to the back of the vehicle. “But you can’t blame a guy for looking, now, can you?”
“Here. Make yourself useful, will ya?” Jordan rolled her eyes at him as she handed him a large box of cupcakes. “And, no, I don’t get the obsession with cars that went out of production decades ago. They don’t make them anymore for a reason. Now, if you want to get excited about a motorcycle, I can totally relate to that!”
Dylan took the box from Jordan but smiled at Mackenzie. “Well—your cousin gets it, don’t you?”
Mackenzie looked directly into Dylan’s oh-so-familiar crystal-clear green eyes for a split second. “I get it.”
“See!” Dylan smiled triumphantly at Jordan. “She gets it.”
“Well—sure. Her dad and brother raised Mackenzie in a garage. Basically, she’s been brainwashed. No offense, cuz.”
“None taken.” Mackenzie balanced the large cupcake box in the crook of her arm while she pulled down the heavy hatch door. Mackenzie gave the hatch door a bump with her hip to shut it completely.
“Okay,” Mackenzie said, wanting to speed things along. “Let’s get the troops out of the sun.”
Dylan kept pace with her as they walked back to the condo. “I haven’t heard someone say that since I was a kid.”
“Really?” Mackenzie pretended to be fascinated with the neighbor’s house. “I hear it all the time.”
That was one of her father’s favorite phrases; no doubt, Dylan had heard him use it a zillion times before he moved away from the neighborhood. Her father had restored vintage cars as a hobby in the garage behind her childhood home, and all of the neighborhood boys, including Dylan, had loved to hang out with him.
“This works.” Jordan put her box down on the large marble slab island that separated the kitchen from the great room.
Mackenzie put her box down next to Jordan’s and started to formulate an exit strategy. Dylan opened the top of his box and reached for a cupcake. Jordan slapped his hand playfully and put the box lid back down.
“Get your sticky paws off the cupcakes, mister! Ian isn’t even here yet! I can’t believe he’s late for his own party.”
“I’m still surprised he agreed to this at all,” Dylan said. “You know Ian hates crowds.”
“No. You’re right. He does. But I’m determined to pull that man out of his shell kicking and screaming if I have to.” Jordan pulled her phone out of the back pocket of her dark-wash skinny jeans. To Mackenzie she said, “Give me a sec, okay? I want to see what’s holding him up. The two of you haven’t even met each other yet.”
Jordan plugged one ear and held the phone to the other as she headed outside to call her fiancé. Even though there was a large group of people milling around in the great room, using it as a pass-through to the bathrooms or the deck outside, at the moment, Mackenzie and Dylan were the only two people in the kitchen. Dylan sent her a conspiratorial wink as he lifted the box top and snagged one of her giant cupcakes.
Dylan devoured the devil’s food cupcake in three bites. “These are incredible. Did you make these?”
Mackenzie nodded. “There’s another cupcake designer who works for me, but these are mine.”
Dylan grabbed a second cupcake and sent Mackenzie a questioning look. “I can count on you not to tell Jordan, right?”
“She is my cousin,” Mackenzie said as she scratched her arm under her long-sleeved shirt. Being around Dylan again was making her skin feel itchy and hot.
“Good call,” Dylan said before he bit into the second cupcake. “You gotta pick family over some random guy you just met. I understand.”
Before she could respond, a statuesque Cameron Diaz look-alike in a tiny bikini breezed into the kitchen like she owned it.
“Babe,” Jenna said as she dropped a quick kiss on Dylan’s cheek, “we’re running out of ice out there already.”
“Okay. I’ll run down to the store and grab some more,” Dylan said before he took another bite.
Jenna opened the refrigerator and pulled out a can of diet cola. She popped the top, took a sip and put the can on the counter.
“Hi,” she said to Mackenzie and then moved on.
Dylan gave his girlfriend a “look” and handed her a coaster to put under the can. Jenna rolled her eyes, but put the coaster beneath the can. Then she crossed her arms over her chest, her pretty face registering a combination of disbelief and disgust.
“Babe—what are you eating?” Jenna frowned at him.
“Cupcakes.” Dylan took another bite of the giant cupcake and pushed a box toward his girlfriend. “Want one?”
“Are you insane?” Jenna asked, horrified. “Carbs, Dylan! I’ve got an audition tomorrow in LA—the last thing I want to be is all puffy and bloated. I don’t know how you can put that poison into your body anyway.”
“Happily.” Dylan winked at Mackenzie.
“Whatever.” Jenna walked to the door. She paused in the doorway and yelled, “Ice!”
“Got it.” Dylan didn’t look at Jenna as he wolfed down the final bite of the cupcake.
Instead of leaving to get ice, Dylan stayed with her in the kitchen. “So—did you grow up in Montana, too?”
Mackenzie looked up at Dylan—one part of her wanted to exit stage left without saying a word, but the other part wanted to rip off the Band-Aid and get the inevitable out of the way. It wasn’t a matter of if she would confront Dylan about their past—it was a matter of when. She was impatient by nature, so perhaps, when she should bring up their past was right now.
Gripping the side of the kitchen counter to hold her body steady, Mackenzie asked quietly, “You don’t recognize me, do you?”
Dylan’s
