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Promise Me You Page 15


  She closed her eyes and a grin formed on her lips. “Like living every moment with no sense of time.”

  “Exactly,” he said excitedly, his thumb tapping a steady beat against her palm. He hummed a few chords, then absently tapped, and the next line came to Mackenzie. The perfect words to match his melody, as if they’d been created simultaneously.

  Man, was she ever in trouble. Mackenzie was in the fast lane to heartbreak ridge.

  With Hunter, everything moved at a lightning speed. They’d written four songs in six days, and every moment together added to the sexual tension until it was electric. One spark and she was going to go up in flames.

  Not ready to get burned, Mackenzie straightened and reached for her guitar. Placing the instrument and as much space as she could get between them without falling off the couch, she started playing the song from the beginning.

  She worked her way to the chorus, and away from the fire, when something strong and heated moved closer.

  “Hang on, go back and play that again,” Hunter said. Without another word, he moved in behind her, eating up all that space she’d created. His hands slowly slid around her to rest on the guitar.

  A little too close for comfort. Mackenzie tried to hand him the guitar. Instead of taking it, he scooted closer, not bothering to stop until he was completely up in her space. His body curled around hers until all she could smell was the smooth scent of leather and testosterone. Feel the heat of his body seeping through the cotton of her shirt.

  “This feels right,” Hunter whispered.

  Sweet baby Jesus. It felt too right.

  “Um, Hunter—”

  “Don’t move.” Without even breaking his stride, Hunter moved so he cradled her body fully and rested the guitar on her hip. “I almost have it.”

  His fingers picked up pace—in perfect sync with her heart—and the song poured out of him.

  Almost turned into a minute, then three, and then—oh God—the next thing Mackenzie knew, Hunter was fiddling to get it perfect, and she realized she didn’t want to move.

  Surrounded by a confident, yummy man was tempting. Being surrounded by Hunter while he was in the zone was a religious experience, one that she was sure would take her to the promised land. Every note pulled her further into his vortex of sexy, which made her feel sexy and feminine—and connected. Three things she’d never thought to feel again.

  He’d found the heart of the song, raw and nostalgic and tender.

  A few lines in and already a hit—she could tell.

  Yup, Hunter Kane, the big badass musician, was back. His confidence and swagger were so mouthwateringly male she let herself imagine, for just a moment, what it would be like to have more than just his hands on her.

  Suddenly, the music stopped, and Mackenzie felt the energy in the room shift—become more intimate and personal.

  “You got it,” she said, sounding ridiculously breathless.

  “I think I finally did,” he said. “In fact, if I got it any more right, you’re going to have to amend your first rule.”

  “First rule?” she said through the sexual haze.

  “No kissing, because I’m pretty sure we’re one breath from contact,” he said, and she was pretty sure he was smiling. “And even though we did share breakfast in bed this morning, I’m more of a second-date-kiss kind of guy.”

  Mackenzie straightened and pulled back. “This is work, not a date.”

  “Seems like you’re working hard not to kiss me.” He set the guitar down and leaned back on the sofa. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but that almost-kiss will have to wait until we’re standing under the porch light and I’m walking you to the door.”

  “There was no almost-kiss.”

  “Sure there was, but don’t worry, next time that almost will be a slam dunk, you have my word. In fact, I was thinking tomorrow night, you and me. I even know the perfect front porch.”

  “I know you’re used to women who swoon when you wink, but you’re going to have to try harder than that,” she lied.

  “To clarify, you’re saying no to the date but yes to the kiss,” he mused.

  “Yes. I mean no.”

  “No need to get flustered. It’s a simple question.”

  Simple, my ass. Hunter was the most complicated straightforward person she’d ever encountered. And this was the most complicated situation she’d been in since his rehearsal dinner.

  “We’re coworkers, and coworkers don’t date,” she rushed out, more for herself than him. “Last time I let it become about more than the music for me. I can’t do that again. Not when I need to learn to stand on my own two feet.”

  “I’m not down on one knee.” He sounded so sincere her heart pounded as if he were. “I’m just asking you to give this a chance to see where it goes.”

  “We both know exactly where this would lead.” Mackenzie had been there, bought and buried the T-shirt.

  “Why don’t you explain it to me, just to make sure you and I are on the same page? I want a clear image,” he said, suddenly in front of her. This time she was certain he was smiling. And it was his charming smile. The one with the double dimples she could never resist.

  “See where it goes implies there’s room for this to go somewhere,” she said primly. “And there’s not.”

  “Why is that?”

  “My life is in these few square blocks. Yours is on the road.” And if she wasn’t careful, he’d take her heart with him when he left.

  “Yet we always manage to find each other,” he said.

  She snorted. “Because we’ve never let it go too far. If we did, it would be over, just like that.”

  “Trouble, with me it goes on and on. And that’s a promise.”

  Her nipples believed him. “When it comes to women, you burn hot and fast. And while I’m sure it would be an incredible night, it’s not worth getting burned.”

  “Oh, I’m worth it,” he whispered. “And let’s be real, sex between us wouldn’t just be hot, it would be a slow, scorching heat that would light you up from the inside out and last long into the next day.”

  She was afraid it would last forever.

  “It’s a work night, and we are on a tight timeline,” she said, and as far as excuses went, it was about as lame as washing her hair, but she was desperate for an out.

  “How about this weekend?” he asked, and she was tempted to say yes. How many times had she dreamed of the perfect date with the perfect man? “Wait, scratch that, I have plans.”

  “Is this the weekend you have to go to LA to meet with the label?” she asked.

  “No. That’s next weekend,” he corrected. “And I thought you were going with me. They want to know how the album is progressing, and what better way than to bring along the talent behind the music.”

  “I’m sure your talent will be enough to fill the room,” Mackenzie teased. “Plus, Muttley isn’t air-travel confident yet.” And neither was she.

  “Which makes it the perfect trip to practice. I’ll be there, so if anything—”

  She rested a gentle hand on his cheek. “We’re not there yet.”

  His jaw tensed beneath her touch, as if he had more to say on the subject but was holding back. His chest rose and fell, then a smile tugged at his mouth. “Well then, this is your lucky weekend. As I am spending two nights and three days in the countryside outside Nashville and am in need of a travel companion.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course you are.”

  “No planes or trains required. Just a simple yes, Trouble.” He rested his hand over hers and her nipples perked up, giving her the A-OK to accept.

  She laughed. “The yes might be simple, but the aftermath, I’m not so sure.”

  “Oh, did I forget to mention that this weekend comes with a two-foot-tall, live-in chaperone?” I promised to babysit Caroline so Brody and Savannah can have a little adult fun.” He linked their fingers and slid her hand to his lips, pressing an openmouthed kiss to her palm. �
�And after the rugrat goes to bed, we can have our own adult fun.”

  She could hear the smile in his words; hers was ready to shatter. While three days of adult fun with Hunter away from the security of work was beyond tempting, it was also a colossally bad idea. Spending it with an adorable but unpredictable toddler was a disaster in the making.

  She closed her eyes and reminded herself to breathe.

  Hunter with his niece would absolutely melt her heart in so many ways she couldn’t even comprehend. Hunter with his niece would also be an aching reminder of just how far apart their worlds actually were. Something that was easy to ignore when cocooned in the security of her house.

  There was no doubt that Hunter was born to be a father. And she was equally as confident that parenthood was not in her future.

  “Muttley and I meet with our sponsor on Saturdays.” She pulled her hand back. “Plus, I need to get some things done around the house this weekend.”

  He was silent for a long while, and she could feel his scrutiny, as if trying to figure out if she was telling the truth. “Well, if you change your mind I can come get you.”

  “I won’t.” She untangled herself from his lap and stood. “How long will you be gone?”

  “Why, Trouble? Are you going to miss me?” His tone was teasing, but she could feel his disappointment.

  “I was just thinking through my weekend plans.” And how, if she was going to fulfill her goal of hitting the market every day, she’d have to go it alone.

  At least peaches are in season, she assured herself.

  “It’s a short trip.” He stood too. “They leave Friday and get back Sunday night.”

  Three days seemed like an eternity to her—and that had her warning bells ringing. She’d made it three years without his help. So why did three days make the pit of her stomach churn?

  Because you’ve gotten comfortable having him around.

  And comfort was one step closer to dependence. Maybe this weekend would help her regain some much-needed perspective.

  “Have fun,” she said lightly. “As for the date, you’re going to have to try harder than co-babysitting to sweet-talk your way into my bedroom.”

  “No sweet-talking necessary when it’s the real deal. And this . . .” he said, reaching for her hand when she was about to walk away, “this is the real deal.”

  Oh, he was the real deal all right. So impressive that the air whooshed out of her lungs on first contact. Mackenzie had to cling to those biceps to remain upright, getting a hands-on inspection of each and every ripple and curve. The man redefined chiseled, and all that swagger somehow redefined where the line was. Moving it right past no-kissing and dangerously into sharing more than just personal space, making it easy for Mackenzie to get that much closer without actually crossing it.

  “I’m going to prove it to you,” he said, sculpting his hands around her sides, his fingers splaying low on her backside. “And, Trouble, when it comes to creative, I’m world-class, so be careful what you ask for.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Hunter made it through a weekend of babysitting like uncle of the freaking year. He went back to being large and in charge, a guy totally on top of his game. Back to being the Man. Until he walked through Mackenzie’s front door Sunday night and glimpsed her sitting in the sunroom eating a bowl of peaches and wearing the sweetest of smiles on her lips.

  Jesus, those smiles. More of them appeared as the days went on, sometimes accompanied by comforting encouragement, other times with a gentle brush of her hand over his. Every time, though, they knocked him off balance.

  So it was no surprise that by the time Thursday rolled around, Hunter was a complete goner.

  Spending a week engaged in a never-ending battle of look-but-don’t-touch with Mackenzie had only increased the tension between them. Not to mention the heat. Which was edging closer and closer to surface-of-the-fucking-sun, taking Hunter closer and closer to the point of no return.

  Bottom line, Mackenzie slayed him. Mind, body, and soul—she had completely captivated him. He spent his days watching her spin words into magic and his evenings uncovering all the nuances that made her tick. In fact, the more he learned about Mackenzie, the harder it became to keep his distance. Even when he was sleeping, she consumed his thoughts.

  Not that sleeping was an accurate description. Nope, with Mackenzie only two rooms away, lying in what he could only imagine were tangled sheets and some bright-colored lace, sleep was impossible.

  Focusing was impossible. Hell, he’d spent his days distracted by her voice, her scent, intoxicated by the way she moved. Nights were no better, since he replayed that kiss of theirs until the taste was so real it lingered like a fine wine on his tongue.

  Hunter was in a bad way.

  Which was the only reason he didn’t notice the set of serious fuck-me eyes aimed his way until it was too late.

  And they weren’t the warm, melt-your-soul variety he’d been hoping to see emerge from the community center. These were mascara-rimmed and intense—and headed his way.

  Not wanting to engage with a fan right then, Hunter pulled his ball cap lower and rested his forearms on his thighs, pretending to be sending an email on his phone, when in reality he was playing Candy Crush.

  The sun was nearly set. Mackenzie was about to come out from her meeting any minute, and he was anxious to hear how her class had gone.

  When they’d arrived earlier, he’d planned on dropping her off and heading downtown to Big Daddy’s, but she’d paused at the front door to the building, staring at it instead of going in. He’d offered to go in with her, or at least walk her to her classroom, but she’d given him a hard no, explaining that she didn’t want his fame to cause a riot, then reminded him he was her driver—not her keeper.

  He’d pointed out that it was a support group for the blind, so unless he started singing they should be fine, but she said his smugness was a dead giveaway, and blind or not, the other members would be distracted by him. No escort needed. She’d call him when she needed to be picked up.

  Hunter had watched her swish that heart-shaped ass of hers before hopping back in his car and driving out of the parking lot, only to circle the block twice and go back to make sure she went inside the building. Then he’d turned off his car and waited patiently for her to call while doing his best not to attract any attention.

  He’d failed at both.

  His patience had vanished the second she’d disappeared into the brick building with the wheelchair ramp and motion-activated doors. The attention he’d attracted was from a tall, fiery redhead who was staring at him as if trying to figure out why he looked so familiar.

  This kind of thing happened all the time. It was the downside to making it in his industry. A fan would spot him, ask for a selfie, then before he knew it he’d be surrounded by dozens of people all wanting something.

  Normally, he was more than happy to visit, sign a few autographs, even pose for the camera. But since Mackenzie had looked close to calling it a night even before she’d exited his car, Hunter crouched down on the bench, tugging his ball cap lower.

  Thankfully, the woman hadn’t made the connection yet. In about two seconds, Mackenzie was going to exit the building, and he didn’t want to give her another reason to close up on him.

  He meant what he’d said about that all-night-long kiss under the porch lights. It had been a week of playing by her rules, and they were no closer to figuring out this thing between them.

  Time for a different approach. One that included proving just how great things between them could be. The only thing he knew for sure was that she’d be hungry—and he was going to use that to his benefit. Sure, there were some steaks in her fridge, but he wanted tonight to be special.

  Going to support group had been a huge step out of her comfort zone, and he wanted to celebrate that. Over the past week, they’d gotten into a routine. Out of bed and in the studio by dawn, they’d work on the album until noon, then walk down to the
grocery store and buy a couple of sandwiches and all the fixings for supper. After Mackenzie put another aisle to memory, they’d walk back home to her sunroom and share the sandwiches before hitting the studio for another few hours.

  Supper would be in the kitchen. Last night, they had enjoyed Hunter’s homemade chili while sitting on the back porch, which was a nice change. But tonight needed to be different. He was determined to get her away from the comfort of home in hopes they’d share other, more personal things.

  Mackenzie liked talking about herself almost as much as she liked going out in public, so it would take some serious convincing on his part. But he’d already gotten over the biggest hurdle—getting her downtown. It wouldn’t be that hard to get her to agree to supper at Big Daddy’s. Once he got her to the bar and she reconnected with all her old friends, she’d remember how easy it could be.

  “Excuse me,” the redhead said, pulling up on a bike. Not the kind with a motor but the pedal kind. It was light blue, with a white basket attached to the front. Inside, riding shotgun, sat a pocket-size powder puff with wet black doggy eyes and paws bigger than his head.

  Both driver and dog wore fitted pink tees that said BITCHES WITH A BITE, and while the dog was shoeless, the woman had on black boots—steel toed by the looks. She was an interesting combination of Dr. Dolittle meets GI Jane. “Are you Hunter?”

  And here we go . . .

  Adopting his best cover-of-Rolling-Stone grin, he stuck out his hand. “Yes, ma’am.” When she just looked at it as if unsure he’d washed his hands after using the little boys’ room, he flipped his ball cap around and said, “I bet you want an autograph or a picture.”

  Her eyes went wide and her cheeks pinked with nervousness. He’d seen it a million times. The woman was starstruck and needed some direction. Or in about three seconds, she was going to squeal and draw the attention of everyone in the area.