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Sister’s boyfriend, she reminded herself as he walked over to the fridge, pulled out a microbrewed beer and cracked the top. He took a long swallow, sighed and, closing his eyes, placed the bottle against his forehead.
“Bitching, horrible, freakin’ revolting day.”
She wouldn’t have thought the big badass of the Mavericks could sound so melodramatic. “It couldn’t have been that dire—you won the game.”
Mac’s ink-blue eyes lasered into hers. “Did you watch?” he asked, his question as pointed as a spear tip.
Rory shook her head. “Nah, had to study. Why?”
“Because I was wondering why my head was still attached to my neck.”
Rory narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”
Instead of answering, he gave her a long look. Then he placed his bottle on the center island and walked toward her. He gripped the counter, one hand on either side of her body. He was like a big human cage, she thought.
Up close and personal, she could see the slight tinge of auburn in his stubble, notice how long his eyelashes were, could see a faded scar on his top lip. And man, he smelled so good. She wanted to stand on her toes and kiss that scar, run her lips over that bruise on his jaw, kiss his eye better.
Sister’s boyfriend, sister’s boyfriend...she had no right to be standing this close to Mac, tasting his breath, feeling his heat. Playing with fire, coloring outside the lines was something her father did, his worst trait, yet despite that sobering thought she couldn’t make herself move away, was unable to duck under Mac’s arm. Even though Mac belonged to Shay, Rory wanted just one kiss from him. She wanted to know what he tasted like, how strong his arms felt around her, how it felt to be plastered against that solid wall of muscle. Just one kiss...
Gray eyes clashed with blue as his mouth hovered above hers. As she stood there, so close and so personal, she knew exactly what he’d do, how she’d feel...
His lips would slide across hers, cool, strong...smart. She’d open her mouth to protest, to say they couldn’t do this—or to let him in, who knew—and he wouldn’t hesitate. As his tongue slid into her mouth, his hand on her lower back would pull her into him and his other hand would delve beneath the elastic of her flannel bottoms to cup a butt cheek. His kiss would turn deeper and wetter and her hands would burrow under his loose T-shirt and explore the muscles of his back, his shoulders, his fabulously ripped stomach.
She’d think that it was wrong but she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. Mac would, ever so slowly, pull her T-shirt up to expose her too-small breasts and she’d whimper into his mouth and push her hips against him, needing to rub herself against his hard, hard erection. He’d be what a man felt like, strong, hot, in control...
“I just saw our entire kiss in your eyes. God, that was so hot,” Mac growled, and she tasted his sweet breath on her lips again.
“We can’t, it’s wrong.” Rory pushed the words up her throat, past her teeth, through her lips. Four words and she felt like she’d run a marathon.
Mac’s eyes stayed locked on hers and, in case she missed the desire blazing there, his erection nudging her knee let her know how much he wanted her. Mac wanted her...he really did. Tall, built, smelling great, gorgeous...how was she supposed to resist him?
Sister’s boyfriend, sister’s boyfriend...
Rory placed her hands on his pecs and pushed. Mac stepped back but as he did, he lifted his hand to run his knuckle over her cheek. That small, tender action nearly shattered her resolve and she had to grab the edge of the counter with both hands to keep from launching herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips and feasting on that fallen-angel mouth.
So this was primal lust, crazy passion. She wasn’t sure she liked how out of control it made her feel. Squirmy, hot, breathless...it was intensely tempting to throw caution to the wind and get lost in the moment. Did having such a flammable reaction to Mac mean that she was more like her dad than she thought? Ugh. This wasn’t going to happen, she decided. From this point on she would not kiss, touch or think about her sister’s boyfriend. This stopped. Now.
Rory held up a hand. “Back up.”
Mac took two steps back and she could breathe. She felt the craziness recede. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and sent her a brooding look. “That was...”
“Wrong? Crazy? A betrayal of my sister?”
Mac frowned. “Let’s not get carried away here. We didn’t even kiss.”
“We wanted to!”
“But we didn’t so let’s not get too caught up in the melodrama.” Mac picked up his beer, sipped and sighed. His head snapped up and Rory heard the front door closing, heard her sister kicking off her heels. Rory tried to keep her face blank but she felt like her brain and heart were on fire as guilt and shame pricked her skin.
We didn’t actually kiss but I really, really wanted to...
“You’re here.” Shay tossed the words at Mac as she stepped into the kitchen. Rory frowned. Shay didn’t walk up to Mac and kiss him. It was what she did, every single time she saw him, whether they’d been apart five minutes or five weeks.
Mac made no effort to touch Shay either. He just stood there wearing that inscrutable face Rory knew he used when he wanted to avoid a scene.
But a scene, she knew it like she knew her own signature, was what they were about to have. Why?
Rory turned her eyes to her sister’s face. She recognized that expression, a mixture of betrayal, broken trust, hurt and humiliation. God, she looked devastated.
“What the hell, Mac?” Shay’s shout bounced off the walls.
Rory’s gaze jumped around the room. How could Shay know? Did she have cameras in the apartment? X-ray vision? A girlfriend’s gut instinct?
Mac held his hands up. “I’m sorry, Shay, for all of it. I never meant to hurt you.”
“Yet you’re doing such a fine job of it.” Shay wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. “There were easier ways to get rid of me, Mac. You didn’t have to humiliate me on national TV.”
Rory looked at Mac and then at Shay. Okay, maybe this conversation had nothing to do with Rory and the almost-kiss. “What are you talking about? What did he do?”
Shay let out a laugh that held absolutely no amusement. “You haven’t seen it?”
“Seen what?”
Shay’s laugh was brittle. “Well, you’re probably the only person in the city—the country—who hasn’t!” She lunged for the remote on the counter and jabbed her finger on the buttons to get the TV to power up. While she flipped through channels, Rory snuck a look at Mac. He gripped the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb and he looked utterly miserable.
Sad, sorry and, to be frank, at the end of his rope.
“And in today’s sports news, Maverick’s center Mac McCaskill was caught on an open mic commenting on sex, monogamy and hot women.”
Rory snapped her head up and looked at the screen. Footage of the post-match news appeared on the screen. Quinn, Kade and Mac lounged behind a table draped with the Maverick’s logo. Kade said something that was too low to hear and the three of them laughed.
“The blonde reporter in the third row is seriously hot.” Quinn’s voice was muffled and she could just hear his words.
“Did you see the redhead?” Kade demanded, his voice equally muted. “I have a thing for redheads.”
“You have a thing for all women.” Mac’s voice was clear and loud; obviously his was the only microphone that was live. Oh...shoot.
“Like you do. When are you going to give up this relationship BS and start playing the field again?” Quinn demanded. “It’s not like you’re particularly happy with your ball and chain.”
“I’m not and you’re right, monogamy sucks,” Mac said, looking past Quinn. Rory recognized that smile, the appreciation in his eyes. “Your blonde from the third row is very hot.”
“Shay is also hot,” Kade pointed out.
“Yeah but she’s crazy. Besides, I’m bored with tall and built. I’m thinking that petite might be a nice change of pace— Why is Vernon gesturing to me to shut up?”
Then a rash of swear words was followed by: “My mic is on!”
Rory looked at Shay, who’d dropped into a chair at the kitchen table with a vacant look in her eyes. She’d stopped crying and she looked like she’d checked out, mentally and emotionally. Mac picked up his jacket from the counter and walked over to stand in front of Shay. He bent his knees so he could look directly into her face.
“I’m sorry I spoke behind your back and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, Shay. It wasn’t my intention. I take full responsibility for running my mouth off. Not my finest moment and I am very sorry.”
When Shay looked through him and didn’t respond, he slowly stood up and placed his apartment key on the counter. Rory looked at her broken, desperately sad sister, grabbed Mac by the arm and pulled him into the hall, feeling as if her gray eyes must be full of angry lightning.
When their eyes met, he lifted one broad shoulder. “Told you I was screwed,” he said.
“So you came over here to screw me?” she demanded, thinking about that almost-kiss, fury clogging her throat.
Mac’s flashing eyes met hers. “Believe it or not, I’m not that much of a bastard. I didn’t even know you would be here.”
“What were you thinking, Mac?” she demanded, insanely angry. On behalf of her sister, but also because Rory had trusted him just as Shay had. “You’ve done so many interviews, you know how mics work.”
“I wasn’t thinking, dammit!”
Red dots appeared in front of Rory’s eyes. “Did you plan this? Was the smack talk an easy way to get out of your relationship with Shay?”
“Contrary to the evidence, I am better than that.”
Rory snorted. “You could’ve fooled me. First you insult my sister, then you almost kiss me? What was that about?”
Mac let out a harsh, angry breath. “I knew when I left that news conference that I was toast. I regret what I said. I came here to apologize to Shay but found you instead—”
“So you were angry and frustrated and I was there, a handy way to let off some steam!” Rory interrupted.
Mac’s curses filled the small hallway.
Rory drilled a finger into his chest. “How many times have you cheated on Shay? Because that move with me was far too practiced to be your first time!” The red dots turned scarlet and her chest tightened.
Mac stepped back and anger sparked in his eyes. “I’m only going to say this once. I never cheated on your sister. And, babe, you wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss you! I’ll take full responsibility for being a prick on national television but I will not take all the blame for what almost happened in there.”
Guilt swamped her. She knew he was right and she hated it. She didn’t want to shoulder any of the blame; it would be a lot easier if she could just blame him for everything: for being too sexy, for making her want something she had no right to want.
Mac raked his fingers through his hair. “Look, why don’t we let this situation settle down and I’ll call you? We can have coffee, chat. Sort this out?”
Pick up where we left off?
That wasn’t going to happen. There was no way she could date someone who’d dated—slept with—her sister, who’d almost cheated on her. Someone who’d made Rory so crazy with lust that she’d almost betrayed her sister! He would’ve kissed her had she not stopped him. He would’ve cheated...of that she was categorically convinced.
She could never trust him.
Ever.
“Don’t bother. I’m not interested.” Rory walked around him, yanked open the front door and gestured for him to leave. “Go. You’ve created enough havoc for one evening, for one lifetime.”
Mac, with a final inscrutable look, walked out of the Kydd sisters’ lives. Good riddance, Rory thought. The last thing either of them needed was a cheating, backstabbing man in their lives.
Rory turned and saw her sister standing in the kitchen doorway. She’d heard every word of their conversation. So she’d stopped the kiss. That meant little. The truth remained: she wanted Shay’s man, wanted him badly. They both knew she was more like their dirtbag father than either of them had thought possible. Shay was going to strip layers of skin off her and Rory deserved it.
“You two almost kissed? You had a moment?”
Facing her sister, she couldn’t deny the truth. “Yes. I’m really sorry.”
“Okay then. Thanks for getting rid of him,” Shay told Rory in a cold and hard voice. “Now get the hell out of my apartment and my life.”
One (#uca1e6103-1046-569c-9dc3-be7732d0a588)
Ten or so years later...
Rory made her way to a small table by the window in the crowded cafeteria of St. Catherine’s Hospital, juggling a stack of files, her bag and a large blueberry smoothie. Dumping the files on the table, she took a berry-flavored hit before pulling out a chair and dropping into it. She’d been on the go since before seven, had missed lunch and was now running on fumes. She had two more patients to see. She might be able to get home before eight.
An early night. Bliss.
Her cell phone chimed and Rory squinted at the display, smiling when she saw her sister’s name.
“Sorry, something just came up. I’ll call you right back,” Shay stated before disconnecting.
Rory smiled, grateful that she and Shay were really close, a minor miracle after the McCaskill incident. Mac running his mouth off and his subsequent breakup with Shay had been the first major media storm involving one of the three most famous Mavericks. It had been the catalyst for the city’s fascination with anything to do with Mac, Quinn and Kade.
Shay had been swept up into the madness; she’d been stalked and hassled by reporters and photographers for months. Her life had been a living hell. Unfortunately, because she refused to talk to Rory, Shay had weathered the media attention by herself. She’d lost weight and, as Rory had found out years later, she’d come close to a breakdown. Rory was so grateful the incident was solidly behind them; the man-slut captain of the Mavericks professional ice hockey team was not worth losing sleep, never mind a sister, over.
Except that she did, frequently, still lose sleep thinking about him. Rory sighed. He was her fantasy man, the man she always thought of when she was alone and well, she hated to admit it...horny. She wondered and she imagined and the fact that she did either—both—annoyed the pants off her.
The jerk.
Her cell rang again, Rory answered and Shay said a quick hello. “Sorry, as you picked up the delivery guy arrived.”
“No worries, what’s up?”
“Dane sent me two dozen red roses.”
And, judging by Shay’s frantic voice, this was a problem? “Okay, lucky you. Why are you freaking out?”
“Two dozen red roses? Who sends his wife of eight months two dozen red roses? He must be cheating on me.”
Here we go again, Rory thought, exasperated. I haven’t had enough coffee to cope with Shay’s insecurities. Thanks again, Dad, for the incredible job you did messing up your daughters’ love lives.
Rory sucked on her straw musing about the fact that she and Shay had different approaches to life and love. She was closed off to the idea of handing her heart over to a man, yet Shay had never given up on love. She had eventually, she was convinced, caught the last good guy in the city. The fact that Dane was calm and strong enough to deal with Shay’s insecurities made Rory love him more.
“He must be having an affair. Nobody can work as much as he does,” Shay fretted.
“Shay! Princess!” Rory interrupted her mumblings. “Stop obsessing, you’re getting yourself into a state. You’re a gorgeous blonde ex-model and you still look like a million dollars. Dane married you and you promised to trust him.”
Shay sighed. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Look at your wedding photos. Look at how he’s looking at you...like you’re the moon and stars and everything that’s perfect.” In spite of her cynicism when it came to romance, Rory couldn’t help feeling a little jealous every time Dane looked at her sister, love blazing from his eyes. What must it feel like to have someone love you that much, someone so determined to make you happy? Logically, she knew the risk wasn’t worth it, but...damn, seeing that look punched her in the heart every time.
“Dane is in the middle of a big case—some gang shooting, remember? And he’s the homicide detective in charge—and sending you roses is his way of reminding you that he loves you.”
“So, no affair?”
