Page 40 of My Dearest Mackenzie

My errant thoughts were saved by the bell—my phone dinged. Every time a text came through, the same icy-hot feeling invaded my body. Of course I always thought it might be him. It had been two-plus weeks since we’d been in the Hamptons.

He’d texted once to apologize and another to say he was off to London again.

Now, I yanked my phone out of my running armband to see who was bothering me on a Saturday.

I’m going to Westchester tomorrow. I have to grab something at the house. Do you want to see the armoire?

That was all he wrote—as if we’d been chatting regularly over the last several weeks and he didn’t ditch me in the Hamptons—yet my heart rate was through the roof. The thing was, I didn’t know if it was because of Mack or the prospect of finding out more about Rosie and Paps. The two had become so intertwined, and I couldn’t figure out if I was falling for Mack or felt certain ways because he held the keys to more information. The former spoke to me; I was into Mack for more reasons than one. Except he was a train wreck, running away when he got scared, afraid to face reality. And also hurting because of me. The entire scenario was a crash-and-burn if there had ever been one. Maybe because Mack wasn’t meant to be caught, like Rachel said… Everyone knew I was stubborn though, and when I wanted to believe in something, nothing deterred me.

“Well, who is it?”

I looked up to see Rachel staring at me. Shoving my phone away, I couldn’t lie, so I said, “Him. He wants to see the armoire tomorrow with me.”

“Well, there you go. Another information-foraging date with the man. Hope you get what you want because if he deserts you again, I’m going to ban him.”

I didn’t doubt that. When Rachel put her foot down, she was not movable.

Part of me wished she would ban him now because whatever was blooming between us wasn’t an annual. It was a perennial, in season, and would be dead by the first frost.

“Morning,” he said, holding the car door open for me.

I nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said when he got in the car.

“Save it. You have said that to me so many times, it doesn’t mean a thing. I’m sorry this, and I’m sorry that…” I turned to face him. “You know what?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” His mouth quirked…damn him.

“I want to slap that smirk off your face. The last thing you are is a wet noodle. You’re Mackenzie Miller, a powerful man who doesn’t do commitments. So just stop with the ‘I’m sorry’ every minute. If it gets the slightest bit deep or heavy, you cut and run. Let’s keep this simple—I want to know about my Paps and you’re helping. No feelings needed or required.”

He kept his gaze on me, taking my lashing, allowing me to finish.

My chest felt heavy with memories I didn’t want to be having, and pain I’d suppressed long ago. “In case you forgot, I had a man leave at the worst time possible. Sever ties, and leave his baby for freaking good. He didn’t know she wasn’t going to make it. The thought of a family was just too damn deep for him. I’m not looking for any of that BS anymore—”

He snatched my hand in his and caressed my fingers. “Shh.” He silenced me with his commanding tone. “You’re right, I’m not a cut and run type, as you put it. Yet that’s exactly what I’ve done. You know why? Because the only woman I ever truly cared about was Milly…until you. You pull me in without knowing it, and I push you away, unable to control how I’m feeling. I’m trying, but you have to understand I don’t like the lack of control.”

I sighed and he squeezed my hand. It might be New York’s best-kept secret—this man was broken beyond repair.

“Mack,” I managed to breathe out.

“I did have to go back to London,” he cut in. “Their department stores can be very demanding, and we are trying to play nice since we are opening a perfumery there. We don’t want them to see it as competition, so there have been many talks. And the Westchester store is our model for London, the layout and all that. And while it being broken into wasn’t because of the design, it reflects poorly on the brand. Luckily, it was a multi-store incident at a mall, and the person of interest was apprehended.”

I nodded, thinking how quickly he’d changed subjects. This man really did like controlling the dynamic.

“A girl? You were having a little girl. I’m so sorry that happened to you.” His hand was back on mine, soft eyes focused on me, and his tone gentle and compassionate.

The way he’d whipped back to what I said made my head hurt from the change in emotional altitude. I’d missed a few therapy sessions, and I was thinking it was time to schedule an emergency appointment.

I looked toward the front, and Alex was fully concentrating on the road, taking us to Mack’s childhood home.

“A girl,” I confirmed. “I planned to name her James for Paps and Dad. It wasn’t in style to use James for a girl when I was born. She was a beautiful baby, even though Ashley said she looked like an alien…”

“Oh, come on. An alien? Who would say that?”

“My sister. She’s younger, and a bit of an oddball. Flighty, but she was with me during the birth, and she did her best to be supportive in a way she didn’t really know how to be.”

“Does she live in New York?”

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