Page 5 of Mac
Jackie stared at the ceiling, ignoring the phone that had been insistently buzzing for thirty minutes. She should’ve turned it off, but then the caller would’ve been banging on her door. As it was, with it ringing and going to voicemail, he’d simply left messages.
More than a dozen of them.
She’d hardly slept and didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not even Jaz.
She wanted a cup of tea. A really, really strong cup of tea. She might even be willing to suffer through a cup of coffee if it would wake her ass up. But she didn’t want to get out of bed. Not just yet.
Mac wanted her and she wanted to savor that knowledge for a while longer.
She’d known for years that he did, but something changed during their conversation last night as she was cleaning up at the club.
He wasn’t going to take her less than convincing No for an answer. Not anymore. He knew her too well. It was only a matter of time before she capitulated and gave in. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
He didn’t understand her hesitancy. He didn’t understand that while one night might be enough for him, it would never be enough for her.
Her phone vibrated again. Jaz’s mug popped up on the screen. Jackie sighed and a split second before answering it, she left it alone. She promised herself that as soon as she was out of the bed and out of the shower and out of excuses, she’d call him back.
She slid from the under the sheet and put her feet on the floor. That’s when she heard it. The key in the lock of her front door. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered, quickly grabbing for the sweatpants slung over the end of the bed.
“Jacks?”
“Hold on,” she called out. Impatient bastard. Though how impatient was he really? He’d called. She hadn’t answered. She always answered. So did he. It didn’t matter what else was going on … Okay, well yes, it did matter. If it was sex or something equally serious or intimate, then, no. The phone would not be answered. But Jaz was well aware that Jackie wasn’t sleeping with anyone or attending a wedding or funeral. Therefore, he’d shown up exactly as they’d promised they would. Pinky swears and blood oaths.
They were all each other had in this world. Correction. They had been. Jaz had Mandi now and Jackie couldn’t have been happier for him. He deserved happiness. He deserved the love of a good woman who could match him passion for passion. Mandi was that woman.
Jackie shrugged into an old concert t-shirt and padded into the living room.
“I was ready to send out a search party for you.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She hugged and kissed the man who’d grown up with her in hell hole foster homes until she’d been adopted by the sweetest couple. They’d tried to steer her right, but their definition of right and her definition came from two very different dictionaries.
She had a lot in common with Dallon’s girl, Carrie. She’d been adopted, too. Raised to take the high road, but once out from under them, she chose to take a back road and ended up on the end of Dallon’s arm and in his bed.
“I brought tea.”
“Oh you are the best.”
“Yes, I am.”
Jackie snagged the cup from Jaz and power walked into the kitchen. A little honey and a dash of cream and she was good to go. The caffeine hit her system in a matter of seconds – at least that’s what she told herself – and she felt the fog begin to lift.
“Late night?” Jaz from the doorway.
“No.”
“That hangover look says otherwise.”
“I’m serious. It wasn’t a late night.”
“Then what gives?”
“You’re nosy this morning.”
“And you’re evasive. Did something happen?”
Could she tell him? Did she dare tell him? She and Jaz had no secrets. They shared everything. It was the one bond she’d formed in her life that had never been broken. “Mac.”
“Still?”
