Part 21 (1/2)

”It's not always about looks, you know,” Mackenzie chided her with a lift of her chin. ”I want someone stable, someone who will be a good dad, someone who wants the same things I want, like a home and a family, a dog.”

Susannah stared at her, her mouth pursed in a frown. ”And you're looking for this guy where? The Mr. Bland Yellow Pages?”

”Not bland,” Mackenzie protested, kicking her friend's calf with the toe of her sandal. ”Responsible. Reliable.”

”Yeah, well, it doesn't mean you can't have a fling with your mysterious carpenter in the meantime, you know.” Susannah stood up, hooking her bag over her shoulder to go to the ladies' room, and gave Mackenzie an affectionate smile. ”As long as he's only mysterious in a s.e.xy way.”

Mackenzie was still thinking about that an hour later, when she and Susannah parted ways outside the bar. She'd refused the offer of a ride home. The night air was sultry and soft, and walking would give her a chance to enjoy it.

And to think.

Susannah didn't have a five-year plan. In all the years Mackenzie had known her, which dated back to high school, she couldn't remember her friend even coming up with a five-day plan. Five minutes, maybe, but that was pus.h.i.+ng it. She'd bounced through college, somehow emerging with a degree in education, and she was a wonderful first-grade teacher, but she seemed to enjoy the fact that her students changed every year. And when it came to dating, she was all over the map-in the last two years alone, there had been a pediatrician, a mechanic, a software designer, and a navy lieutenant who was scheduled for an overseas tour in the coming year.

Taking life as it came worked for her, Mackenzie thought, breathing in the salty air as she walked along North Lumina and letting the breeze blow her loose hair off her face. But Mackenzie had always had a firm idea about the way her life would end up, or at least the way she wanted it to, and a moody carpenter with a secret didn't exactly fit the picture. He was a loner, that much was clear. And fitting a baby seat into his pickup probably didn't figure into his plans.

And she wanted a baby seat, with a baby to put into it, someday. She wanted the kind of guy who was thinking long-term, who wanted a partner. It was what she'd always seen when she imagined her life-herself branching out from wedding photography into gallery shows, with a husband in a white s.h.i.+rt and tie coming home at the end of the day with a kiss, helping to give the kids their baths, offering to make her tea, talking to her as she loaded the dishwasher and got ready for bed...

No matter how tempting it was to think about what it would be like to spend a night with Leo, he didn't exactly look like the kind of guy who had marriage and fatherhood on his mind.

Which made it that much more surprising when she realized that the man walking out of the drugstore just a dozen feet away was Leo.

With his arms full of diapers, and what looked strangely like baby shampoo.

Fumbling with the slippery package of diapers and the bulging bag from the pharmacy, Leo swore under his breath as he reached for his keys. At the sound of footsteps on the sidewalk, he looked up-and nearly dropped everything.

Mackenzie.

And she looked good.

He'd spent the last three days trying to hammer the sight of her, the scent of her-thefeel of her-out of his head, which wasn't easy when he was doing it in her backyard.

She was dangerous, that was the thing. Dangerously curious, dangerously stubborn, and very dangerously tempting. Not a good combination, not for him. He'd finish the job on her shed because it was the right thing to do, but he'd been stupid enough to hope he could do it without seeing her again, at least not for more than a minute or two.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Because here she was, close enough to touch and looking like she'd just walked off the beach in loose white pants and a little blue T-s.h.i.+rt that hugged her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her hair long and loose around her face. Tousled, a little sleepy, and unbelievably s.e.xy.

”Hi,” she said. In the street light, her eyes were nothing but a soft, dark gleam.

”Hey.”

She was fidgeting, dragging the toe of one sandal along the sidewalk, her mouth working as if she had something else to say. She looked so uncomfortable, he couldn't take it. Juggling his purchases, he said, ”Can I give you a ride home?”

Her mouth opened in surprise, a round pinkO , and she blinked at him. ”I...all right.”

Oh yeah, this was the way to keep his distance.

He motioned her around to the pa.s.senger side, and she held out her hand for his packages when he climbed into the driver's seat beside her.

”Shopping?”

Girl didn't miss a trick. ”Yeah.”

”For...diapers.” It wasn't a question. She held the bulky package up to the light. ”Newborn, I see.”

”They're for my neighbor,” he explained, turning the key in the ignition. The truck rumbled to life. ”She just had a baby and her husband had to go out of town. Death in the family or something. I said I'd pick up a few things for her.”

When she was silent, he cast his eyes in her direction and found her biting back a grin. ”What?”

She shrugged helplessly. ”It's just...well, it's a little like seeing your grandmother revving up a Harley. I didn't expect to see you with...this.” She held up a fuzzy duck washcloth he'd s.n.a.t.c.hed off the rack on a whim.

”My grandmother does drive a Harley,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road as he pulled out of the parking s.p.a.ce.

She laughed, stuffing the washcloth back into the bag and setting it on the floor. ”I'm sorry. It's just that you don't look like the warm, fuzzy type.”

He grunted. ”Oh yeah? What type am I?”

She didn't answer immediately, and he cut his eyes sideways as he turned onto her street. This early in the season, most of the houses were dark; her porch light was a warm glow in the distance.

”I don't know,” she said finally. She was staring out the window, but her fingers worked the strap of her bag unconsciously, twisting and untwisting it. ”I didn't mean anything by it. It's just your hair, your earring, your...” She trailed off, but he saw that her gaze was now fixed on his bicep. ”You have a kind of dangerous air. Rock and roll, not nursery rhymes.”

He pulled into her driveway and cut the engine and the lights, sliding his arm along the seatback behind her. She thought he was a bad boy, or whatever women called them today. He had to restrain a bark of amazement. Rock and roll. She had no idea.

But all he said was, ”Dangerous, huh?”

She nodded, and despite the darkness he knew she was blus.h.i.+ng. ”Not really. Not like you'd hurt me.”

Not physically. Never. But the violence of the l.u.s.t rus.h.i.+ng through him was almost frightening. He turned her on. He could hear it in the husky whisper of her voice, feel it in the heat and tension of her body. And that turned him on.

”Of course I wouldn't hurt you,” he agreed, getting out and walking around to her side of the truck. He opened the door and offered her a hand. ”You probably wouldn't expect this, though, would you?”

”Probably not,” she admitted. Her hand felt small in his-small and delicate and very warm.

He led her down the driveway and through the gate to her back porch. After the first day he'd come to the house, he'd never seen her use the front door. The shadowed shelter of the little porch was better for what he had in mind, anyway.

”You'd probably expect a guy like me to take instead of asking, huh?”

She'd backed up against the door, and he braced his hands on the frame on either side of her. In the velvety darkness she was nearly indistinct, but he could sense her body, warm and alive, trembling slightly.

”Maybe,” she said. The word was a breathy whisper.

”Definitely,” he told her, and leaned in, covering her mouth with his own.

It was hot and soft, her tongue a wet surprise, spiking his arousal even higher. She tasted so good, felt so good, and when her purse dropped to the floor with a thud, her hands crept up his chest, fingers tightening in the fabric of his s.h.i.+rt.

She didn't know from dangerous. She didn't have any idea how easy it would be for him to sweep her up and carry her inside, tossing her down on that rumpled, lonely bed in her room. Get her naked, fill his hands and his mouth with her, the silky heat of her skin, the rich, dark taste of her body. Fillher , with his c.o.c.k...