Stumbling Into Love

  “I have work, but I’d like to see you after.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Rolling her to her back, I hover over her and slide my fingers through her hair. “Pack an overnight bag. I’ll pick you up tonight when I get off work.”

  “This is more than just sex, right?”

  Her question catches me off guard. I freeze for a moment, then reach over her head and turn on the bedside lamp. Looking down at her once my eyes have adjusted to the bright light, I take her face between my palms.

  “This is way more than just sex. I know I can’t keep my hands off you when you’re close, but I also can’t keep my mind off you when you’re gone. Don’t tell me that you’ve really been thinking that this was just about hooking up?”

  “I haven’t.” She shakes her head and closes her eyes for a moment before looking at me once more. “I’ve never had a one-night stand before. I—”

  Covering her lips with a finger, I shake my head.

  “You still haven’t had a one-night stand. We didn’t just hook up and call it quits. Even if you hadn’t forgotten your phone, I would have eventually found you.”

  “You would have?”

  “Don’t you feel this thing between us? How strong it is? Do you think that I could just let you go without trying to find out what exactly it is?” I kiss her jaw. “Since the second I saw you, I knew that I wanted you. But from the moment you smiled at me and told me that you got stood up, I knew that there was something about you that I had to have. Lucky for me your date didn’t show up that night. If he had, I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t have tried to talk to you anyway, even with him sitting right next to you.”

  “Oh,” she whispers as a small smile plays on her lips.

  “I know that nothing about us is traditional, but I’m okay with that as long as there is an us. So are we on the same page now?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good.” I kiss her, then roll to my back and pull her over on top of me.

  “Wesley . . .”

  “Yeah?” I run my hand down her arm as she slides up my body so she can rest her chin on my chest. I slide her hand up the side of my neck before wrapping it around my jaw.

  “I know you may not want to, but if you do want to talk about what happened last night, or”—she pauses—“what happened before, I’m here,” she says quietly.

  My stomach muscles tighten, and my heart constricts.

  “Thanks, gorgeous,” I say quietly.

  She turns her head and kisses my chest before resting her cheek against my pec. In a few moments, she’s back asleep.

  Before my boot even makes it over the threshold at the hospital, I hear my name. I look up to find Mackenzie’s mom rushing toward me down the empty hall. She’s wearing dark slacks and a Christmas sweater with bells on it. I had called Mackenzie a little while before, and she told me that she and Libby were at the hospital. I figured I could kill two birds with one stone: get a few minutes with my girl and check on my partner.

  Now, seeing the look on Katie’s face, I remember that Mackenzie also mentioned telling her parents about us. I should have held off trying to see her until this evening. Mackenzie was right—her mom is crazy.

  “Oh, I’m so happy to see you! So, so happy.” She pats the side of my face before yanking my head down. Forced to bend, I hug her awkwardly as she kisses my cheek. “I knew, I just knew that you and our Mac would hit it off. I have a sick sense about these things.”

  “I think you mean sixth sense, Mom,” Libby says, catching up to her and giving me a one-armed hug while rolling her eyes.

  “That’s what I said—a sixth sense.” Katie shoos away her youngest with one hand and takes mine with the other. “Mac is in talking to Fawn and Levi. I’ll lead you that way, and we can talk.”

  “Mom, what did Mac say about scaring off her boyfriend?”

  “I’m not scaring him off,” she says as she turns to look up at me. “Right?”

  “Not at all,” I deny.

  She smiles, wiggling her head side to side in a way that reminds me of a hyper Chihuahua I had growing up.

  “So . . . before we get into the room, I want to talk to you about Christmas. I know you mentioned at Thanksgiving that your family lives in Seattle, and that you would be here in New York for the holiday, so I wanted to invite you myself to Long Island.”

  “That’s really nice, but my mom and stepdad will be coming here,” I say.

  She stops to look at me.

  “Oh! Well, I’d love to meet your mother! Bring her along.” She smiles, and I fight back a laugh.

  Maybe Mackenzie had the right idea about keeping our relationship from her family. I can see now that her mom is going to be difficult to disappoint—and even harder to keep out of our business.

  “I’ll see how my mom feels about that. I’m sure that she would like to meet you, too.”

  “Meet who?”

  Lifting my head, I smile at Mackenzie. She’s standing just outside Levi’s door wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that is about ten sizes too big for her small frame. Her hair is down in a wavy mess. It reminds me of what she looks like after we make love.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” I say.

  Her eyes soften for a brief moment as she looks at me. Then she looks at her mom and narrows them.

  “Who are you meeting?”

  “Wesley’s mom, when she comes into town for Christmas,” Katie says.

  The color drains from Mackenzie’s face as her eyes fly to meet mine. “Your mom is coming into town?” she asks.

  Libby takes Katie’s hand and begins to drag her into the room. She closes the door behind them, leaving Mackenzie in the hall with me.

  “She is.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Why do you have the look on your face that you always get when you’re about to run away?”

  “I don’t.”

  “You do—I have that look memorized,” I say.

  She looks away, takes a deep breath, and then looks at me once more.

  “Do you want me to meet her?” she asks.

  I know she’s nervous by the way she wrings her hands together.

  “Yeah, I’d like you to meet her. I know she’s going to want to meet you, too.”

  “But I’m a tomboy!” she blurts with wide eyes. I frown, confused.

  “Pardon?”

  “I’m a tomboy. How will your mom feel about you dating a tomboy?”

  “Who the hell told you that you’re a tomboy?”

  “I’ve always been a tomboy. I like wearing jeans and sneakers. I don’t like makeup. I love sports, beer, and hanging out with the guys.”

  “I already know all this about you. I know that you’re a woman who likes to be comfortable, who looks amazing without makeup, who enjoys sports and beer and has male friends. Who the fuck cares about any of that? You’re beautiful, and my mom will think so, too.”

  “But I’m not like most women.”

  “Thank fuck for that, gorgeous. If you were like most women, I wouldn’t want you like I do.” I uncross my arms and step toward her. “Now stop stressing about this. If you can handle your mom, I guarantee you can handle mine. She’ll adore you.”

  “If you say so,” she huffs as I drag her against me and plant a kiss on her lips.

  “I know so.” I kiss her again as she winds her arms around my neck.

  “Is it weird that I missed you today?” The question is barely audible, but I hear it. Relief fills me—she’s feeling exactly what I am.

  “Probably, but I don’t give a fuck about that, either.” I kiss her again and she smiles.

  “I kinda like you, Wesley Jameson.”

  “I just straight-up like you, Mackenzie Reed,” I say.

  She smiles, dancing her fingers across my neck. Her eyes watch them move across my skin.

  “Why don’t you call me Mac, like everyone else?”

  “Because I don’t want to be like everyone else to you,” I say.

  She lo
oks up at me, and her lips part.

  “Are you two going to stand out there all day, or are you going to come in?” Levi breaks into the moment.

  Mackenzie blinks, then shakes her head before looking at him.

  “Glad to see you up and about, man.” I shake his hand and he gives me a one-arm hug.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “How are you feeling?” I ask when he steps back and runs his good hand through his hair.

  “All right. Ready to get out of this place. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

  “Oh, stop being an angry bear,” Fawn says as she comes toward us down the hall.

  I see how he turns to look at her, his gaze turning soft.

  “I’m not angry.”

  “You’ve been growling at everyone since we woke up,” she tells him, tucking herself into his good side and resting her hand on his stomach.

  “I woke up with both of our moms hovering over us. That’s not exactly my favorite way to start the day,” he huffs.

  Mackenzie and Fawn laugh.

  “I know, but they are just trying to help. What are you doing up anyway? You are supposed to be in bed.”

  “I needed to get out of the room for a minute. Plus, you were gone a long time. I thought that you were just going to the gift shop,” he tells her.

  She shakes her head.

  “I was gone ten minutes tops. Now come on. It’s time to go back to bed. The doctor said to take it easy.”

  She ushers him back around and through the door toward the bed. The moms are in there at a small table, playing cards with Libby.

  After saying a quick hello to everyone, I head to the bed. Fawn is helping Levi get back in.

  “I can’t stay long. Someone needs to do a shit ton of paperwork, and since my partner decided he’d take a paid vacation, I got stuck with it,” I joke.

  Levi grins. “Thanks for that, man.”

  “No problem.” I pat his good shoulder lightly. “If you need anything, just send a text.”

  “I might need you to help me escape,” he says quietly.

  Fawn narrows her eyes at him, and he shrugs while giving her a smile.

  “Like I said, just send a text.” I look at Mackenzie. “Walk me out?”

  “Sure.”

  When we reach my truck, I make out with her for ten minutes before I head back to the station.

  Feeling Mackenzie’s warm breath brush across my neck, I tighten my fingers around her hip with one hand and sift my fingers through her soft hair with the other. She fell asleep twenty minutes ago, sprawled out on top of me on the couch wearing one of my T-shirts and a pair of my boxers. We had just eaten half a pizza and watched Die Hard and Die Hard 2.

  When I had asked her what she wanted to watch, she told me she loves action movies. I honestly expected her to tell me that she loved romantic comedies or dramas—the types of movies that make me fall asleep halfway through. Once again, she surprised me.

  Just like she surprised me on our first date by not wanting to eat at the restaurant I had chosen for us. Most women I’ve dated would rather pick at a forty-dollar salad than eat a twenty-dollar pizza covered in meat and cheese. Then again, I’m learning quickly that she isn’t like most women I’ve known—she’s better. She’s exactly what I didn’t know I was looking for. I love that she has no problem devouring a pizza without apology and looking sexy doing it, and that in bed she gives as good as she gets. I like that she’s comfortable in her own skin. That she doesn’t feel a need to hide herself under makeup. I appreciate that she’s strong and independent, but that she can be vulnerable at times.

  I know without a doubt she was made just for me. Now I just need to convince her that I was made for her, too.

  Chapter 7

  GIRL CODE

  MAC

  Lifting my head and seeing Edward walk through my office door, I smile and push my chair away from my desk. “Hey, you.” I stand and walk around my desk to greet him with a hug. “What are you doing here?” I let him go and take a step back.

  “I came to check on you. I haven’t seen you in a while. What’s been going on?”

  “Work. You know how it is.” I shrug and take a seat on the edge of my desk while he sits in one of the chairs across from me.

  “Just work?” he asks curiously.

  “Well . . . when I’m not working, I’m spending time with Wesley,” I say.

  He tips his head to the side. “Is Wesley the big guy I saw the last time I was here?” He raises his arms away from his body like he has too many muscles.

  “Yeah.” I smile.

  He rubs his hand down his jaw. “He seemed a little intense,” he says.

  My stomach tingles as I remember the way his intensity feels whenever it’s directed at me.

  “He’s a cop.” I use that as explanation, and he nods. “So did you just come by to check on me?”

  “Actually, I wanted to see if you had time to give me a massage. Bonnie and I are heading to her parents’ for Christmas, and I’ve been stressed.”

  “Why? I thought you got along with her family.”

  “I do get along with them, but . . .” He pulls a box out of his pocket and flips the top open. “Carrying this thing around is making me anxious.”

  “You’re asking Bonnie to marry you!”

  “That’s the plan.” He snaps the box closed and shoves it back in his pocket.

  “I’m happy for you. The ring is beautiful. She’s going to freak when she sees it.” I stand and give him another hug. “I wish I had time to help you out today, but I have clients back-to-back. Everyone wants to come in before they go away for Christmas. You should have called me,” I tell him as the buzzer next to my door goes off, letting me know that my next client has already arrived.

  “I should have.” He moves his neck side to side, cracking it, then pulls out his phone as it rings. “One second.” He looks at the screen before he puts it to his ear to answer. “Hey, baby.”

  Thinking that it’s Bonnie, I smile at him.

  “Yeah, I’ll meet you there. But remember—you can’t call me next week since I’ll be with Bonnie at her parents’ house,” he says.

  That smile slides right off my face, and nausea turns my stomach. I fight the urge to kick him in his balls or pick up my stapler and toss it at his stupid, fat, cheating head.

  “All right. I’m just gonna say bye to my friend, then I’ll be over that way. Yeah, see you soon.” He ends the call and puts the phone in the inside pocket of his jacket just as my next client, Dorothy, comes into my office.

  Giving her a smile, I look back at Edward.

  He leans down to kiss my cheek. “We’ll talk after the holiday.”

  “Sure.” Swallowing down bile, I watch him go. I wonder how the hell I didn’t see it before, how the hell I didn’t notice that he is a complete man whore and a huge dick.

  Pushing thoughts of him away, I lead Dorothy down the hall and into the massage room. I instruct her to get undressed and onto the table, then tell her that I’ll be back in a few minutes.

  After I leave, I rush to my desk and pick up my cell. I group text Libby and Fawn.

  Edward just stopped by my office. He showed me the ring he is going to use to propose to his girlfriend, then he went to go meet a woman that I’m pretty sure he is cheating on Bonnie with.

  Fawn: Shut up.

  Libby: Oh my god you so dodged a bullet.

  Fawn: His poor girlfriend.

  Me: I know, I feel like I should warn her.

  Libby: Don’t do it. She will find out on her own. He won’t be able to hide it forever.

  Fawn: I would want to know if Levi was cheating on me. I think you should tell her. It’s girl code.

  Me: I’ll have to think about it.

  Libby: I swear you two never listen to me. Whatever . . . I have to work. We will talk over Christmas shopping.

  Me:
  Fawn: Talk soon.

  Setting my cell phone down on th
e top of my desk, I get back to work. That is, I try to. For the most part, I spend the day trying to think of a way to tell Bonnie that Edward is cheating on her without telling her directly.

  Taking a sip of my soda, I stare at Wesley over the rim of the cup. He stares back at me with a disbelieving look in his eyes. I’ve just told him about Edward’s phone call in my office earlier today and my plan to send Bonnie an unmarked letter with a note explaining that she should not marry Edward because he is a cheating dick.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “You need to stay out of it.”

  “I can’t just stay out of it—it goes against girl code. If you were cheating on me, I would want to know about it,” I say as he finishes chopping up an onion to add to a pan on the stove that already contains ground beef and chopped tomatoes.

  It’s weird to have someone cook for me, but he’s done it every night without question since we really got together. His only request is that I sit with him while he prepares it.

  “First of all, I would never cheat on you. Cheating is something cowards do. Second, I don’t give a fuck about girl code. You don’t need to be the one who tells her about her boyfriend being a piece of shit.”

  “Who else is going to tell her, then?” I ask, throwing my hand in the air.

  He moves toward me, takes my cup from my hand, and sets it on the counter next to me before pushing my legs apart to stand between them.

  “Gorgeous, I get that you feel she needs to know, but I don’t like the idea of you being the one to tell her about it. She could freak—or he could.”

  “It’s going to be anonymous . . . ,” I remind him.

  He sighs.

  “I won’t leave any trace that it was me who told her. I won’t say a name or anything. I will just say something like ‘your man is a cheating dick.’”

  I expect that to make him smile, but it doesn’t.

  He moves his face closer to mine and wraps a hand around my jaw. “Please, just leave it alone.”

  Searching his gaze and seeing worry there, I chew on the inside of my cheek. I want to ask him why, but I don’t want him to shut down on me. Not when we’ve had a great couple of weeks. Letting out a huff, I give in.