“Conneach, I’ve been thinking about you. How’s the weather up your way?”
“That’s why I’m calling, Mom. It’s blizzard conditions. I doubt seriously I’ll be able to get out of here tomorrow.”
“Oh, Conneach. What a disappointment.”
Guilt stabbed him, but he wasn’t going to back down after proclaiming to Beth that he was joining her for a feast of independence. “I’m disappointed, too, but I know you don’t want me on the road if it’s dangerous.”
“No, of course I don’t. If anything changes, come on, anyway. We’ll have plenty of food.”
“I know, but don’t count on me.”
“We could postpone until the next day. Your dad’s closing the office on Friday, which means Stephanie will be off, too.”
Mac hoped he wouldn’t go to hell for lying to his mother. He couldn’t very well tell her he’d met the woman of his dreams, even if that turned out to be the truth. “I promised a customer I’d install some new bathroom lighting on Friday, Mom. Sorry about that.”
“Then I’ll package up the leftovers and keep them until you can make it down here. What’s your food situation? Will you have enough to eat?”
“I’ll be fine. The casinos will be open, don’t forget. I can walk there if I have to.”
“All right. We’ll miss you, but you can meet Stephanie another time. Call if you get the chance, but if I don’t talk to you, Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Same to you, Mom.” He disconnected the call, picked up the board games and opened his door.
A jolt of happiness hit him at the thought of seeing Beth again. It seemed like ages since he’d left.
WHEN BETH HEARD MAC’S TRUCK pull up, she took the pizza out of the oven, found a pizza cutter and shoved it through the slightly hardened crust. The pizza was a little dried out and not terribly hot, but his trip had taken way longer than she’d expected. She was curious about what he’d gone after in such a hurry, and she hoped he’d say.
But if he didn’t, she resolved not to pry. After all, they’d just met. She couldn’t expect him to lay bare all his secrets right off the bat.
Once she had the pizza cut, she stoked the fire, thinking he’d knock on the door any second. When he didn’t, she wondered what was keeping him, but she’d be damned if she’d go to the window and peer out. She stuck the pizza pan back in the oven and poked at the fire some more.
This was exactly what she disliked about getting involved with a man. Instead of doing her own thing as she’d planned, she was hanging around waiting for him to come through the door. He’d given her no reason for his errand, and now he was sitting out in his truck while the pizza got cold.
She’d decided to take the pizza out and start eating, when his knock sounded. Annoyed at herself for allowing this situation to interrupt her plans, she walked over and opened the door.
He stood there, tall, broad-shouldered and beautiful as ever, his coat collar turned up and snow in his hair. His blue gaze was apologetic. “Sorry. Everything took longer than I thought it would. Just now I was calling my mom to cancel for tomorrow. She would have panicked if I hadn’t shown up and not told her I couldn’t make it.”
Her irritation ebbed a little. She stepped back from the door. “How did she take it?”
“Fine.” He walked in and she closed and locked the door behind him. “She’s disappointed, but she doesn’t want me driving if the roads are bad.”
She noticed he was carrying something under his arm. “What have you got there?”
“A couple of games. I thought we might—”
Her irritation returned. “Mac, I don’t want to get all up in your business, but this is getting weird. You leave abruptly with no explanation, and then you return a long time later with a couple of board games.”
“You don’t like board games?”
“That’s not the issue, and besides, Ken and Jillian have a cupboard full of games. You’ve been here a lot over the years, so you must know about the games closet. This isn’t adding up.”
He put the games on the kitchen table and blew out a breath. “Hell.”
“Look, if it’s something personal, like you have a health problem and had to go back to take your meds, you should just say so instead of making me resort to using my imagination. For all I know, you have another woman stashed at your cabin and you had to go make some excuse to her. I—”
“I don’t have another woman stashed in my cabin, and I don’t have any health problems.” He reached in his pocket. “I went back for these.”
He pulled out a box of Trojans and she stared at it, not sure how a girl was supposed to react to that.
He tucked the box back in his pocket. “I couldn’t think of a way to broach the subject that wouldn’t be awkward…and then I messed it up anyway. Look, I’m very attracted to you, and I think you might be attracted to me. When we started talking about sex, I…didn’t want to presume, but…I just thought these were good to have on hand.”
He was just too cute for words. Cute, and yummy, and adorably trustworthy. Heat unfurled within her already aroused body. But she still wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t make her sound like a woman who could hardly wait to jump into bed with him.
“But don’t think I brought these over because I expect anything, because I don’t. I’m not making assumptions, and I wasn’t even going to mention them unless…well, unless…”
“We needed one?” As juicy as she was feeling right now, she’d lay odds that they would.
“Yeah.”
“So the board games were your cover story.” She’d never encountered such an endearing combination of uncertainty and confidence in a man.
“A damn lame one, at that. I’d forgotten about the games cupboard.” He gazed at her. “Obviously I’ve screwed this up royally, and if you’d like me to head on back to my cabin, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“I don’t want you to head back.”
“Then let’s just forget you ever saw that box, okay?”
She smiled. “No chance.”
“You never know. Once you’re into a hot game of Sorry!, you could block out everything else.”
She looked more closely at the boxes on the table. “You brought Sorry!? I used to love that game. Haven’t played it in years.”
“Great! We’ll definitely play it, then.” He seemed relieved at the change in topic. “I brought checkers and chess so you wouldn’t think I’m an intellectual lightweight, but I’d really rather play Sorry!. It’s way more relaxing.”
“At the risk of having you think I’m an intellectual lightweight, I’d much rather play Sorry!, myself. Chess gives me a headache.”
“Me, too.” He took off his coat and draped it over a kitchen chair.
She considered suggesting he hang it on one of the hooks by the door beside hers, but any discussion involving the coat would be loaded with subtext because of what the pocket contained. She decided it could stay right on the back of a chair. Handy.
“The pizza smells good.”
“I’m afraid it’s not very warm anymore. I’ll turn the oven on again for a few minutes.” She started toward the stove.
“Hey, don’t bother.” He caught her arm as she walked past him.
She glanced up at him the same moment he touched her, and she came to an instant and complete stop. She even held her breath as she met his gaze and focused on the sensation of those strong fingers gripping her upper arm.