Brazen

4

Mac drove into town and parallel-parked on a small side street in front of a store painted in bright colors with warm, welcoming signs in each window. He'd no sooner turned off the ignition than Sam jumped out of the car and onto the sidewalk. Mac joined her as she stared into a window filled with T-shirts in a variety of sizes and colors. He slipped his hand into hers and they made their way through the town, stopping to browse in various shops. Just being by his side gave her a renewed sense of warmth and happiness she'd never known before.

Being an only child, she'd never had brothers or sisters to run and play with while her parents walked hand in hand. She'd always felt the loss. Always been an outsider in her own life. Until now. She shivered despite the warm sun overhead. Now was not the time to be finding things in life that satisfied her unless they were memories to be stored and cherished. Her time with Mac was certainly that.

Benches lined the street, along with old lamps and chipped painted signs. He'd been smart to suggest this outing. She'd needed to get away from the bar for a while, not to mention escaping the sizzling sexual tension that seemed never to be far from the surface. Cave Cove sported every kind of tourist shop imaginable. And here, in the outdoors, she was able to relax, to enjoy the day and Mac without pressure.

The town was empty because of the early hour, so they had the streets and shops to themselves. At the end of the sidewalk, she came to a small jewelry store with a hand-carved wooden sign out front. Turquoise-and-silver jewelry was beautifully displayed in a window setting. She paused outside.

He tugged lightly on her hand. "Let's keep walking. There are tons of stores with the same things in all these little alleyways."

A large red sign inside caught her eye. "But this one is offering thirty percent off."

He laughed. "Every jewelry store here offers thirty percent off. Competition. They couldn't stay in business otherwise. It's a gimmick designed to get people like you inside."

She placed her palms on the cool glass. Something about the dangling glass reflectors and wind chimes hanging from the ceiling called to her. "This is the place," she insisted.

"If you say so. Just remember there's plenty of landmarks you'll miss if you spend all your time here."

She frowned. "You mean you're getting bored already."

"Did I say that?" He had the audacity to look insulted.

"It's a well-known fact that men hate shopping."

"A statistic I'm proud to say I'm a part of. But not today. Come on." Keeping her hand tucked in his, he led her inside.

Bells tinkled as they entered a shop smelling of lavender potpourri. Goose bumps prickled along her skin and she shivered, causing Mac to draw her closer and wrap his strong arm around her waist. A strange sensation she couldn't name enveloped her. If she believed in auras and premonitions, she would think she'd reached a turning point in her life. That any decision she made now would chart the course of her future. Silly, considering she didn't believe in any of those things.

Shaking off the ridiculous notion, she walked to the nearest jewelry case and studied the rings. Though the display was filled, one in particular caught her eye. A band of silver, crisscrossed with turquoise…

"See anything you like?" a female voice asked. Sam looked up. Thanks to her internal musings, she'd been expecting a gypsylike woman cloaked in veils and mystery instead of the chic older woman who greeted her.

When she didn't answer right away, Mac nudged her arm. "Sweetheart?"

She started at his use of the intimate name in public. "Yes, sorry." She tapped the glass case. "That one. The one in the shape of an X."

The silver-haired woman smiled. "Aah, The Kiss." As she spoke, she pulled a black velvet box filled with assorted rings from the case. "I'd like to say it's an original, but I commission another each time I sell this to engaged couples like yourselves."

Sam waited for Mac to correct the woman's assumption. When he didn't, she started to do it herself. "We're not…"

"Sure we're ready to buy yet," he said smoothly. "Especially a ring that so many other women are wearing." She tipped her head and sent him a questioning glance. She looked into his eyes. Eyes that were sincere, calming, loving. Loving?

Sam wanted to run from the store in a panic, and she would have if Mac hadn't placed a firm hand on her arm. Swallowing hard, she dared another glance at his face. This time he winked, then leaned down to whisper in her ear. "This week is a time for fantasies. Indulge me."

She didn't know whether to laugh because he was joking or cry because she wished she were free to think of this man in terms of love and marriage.

Apparently taking their silence as indecision, the shopkeeper spoke. "You can rest assured, as long as you wear this ring, you will be wed for eternity. Every other couple who purchased it can attest to the same."

That feeling, that… aura swept over Sam once again and she trembled. "What makes you so sure we're engaged?" she felt compelled to ask. There was no ring on her finger, nor any suntan line where Tom's ring had once been.

"I recognize the signs. The closeness…" She gestured to Mac's hand, draped possessively over Sam's shoulder. "The way he looks at you when he thinks you aren't looking, the way you curl into him… two halves make a whole," she said.

"You don't look like a gypsy fortune-teller," Sam muttered.

Mac laughed. "Give the lady a break, Sammy Jo. You want the ring or not?"

Without waiting for an answer, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a credit card. Sam dared a glance, catching only the last name, Mackenzie, before he handed the worn plastic to the obviously pleased woman. So Mackenzie, Mac, was his last name. Another thing she'd learned about him, she thought, storing the information away with the rest of her memories.

"Excuse us," Sam said to the salesclerk. "And please hold off a minute before ringing that up."

She led Mac to a secluded corner of the store. "About the ring…"

"You changed your mind?"

"No, but…"

"You want to try it on first. I should have realized."

"No, I mean…" She didn't know how to broach this without offending him, but she knew he was a bartender and… "You didn't even ask the price."

"I didn't have to. I saw the look in your eye the minute you saw the ring."

"But Mac…"

He treated her to his sexy grin, meant to turn her on and melt her mind so she couldn't think. The throbbing heat low down in her stomach told her he'd managed the first. She opened her mouth to argue.

"It's thirty percent off," he reminded her. "How expensive could it be? Let me do this one thing for you… Sammy Jo."

Her new nickname, especially on his lips, had begun to grow on her. So did the way his voice dropped an octave when he said it in that husky tone. Gazing into his eyes, she could see how much this meant to him, and she couldn't bring herself to turn him down. A quick try would satisfy them both. Her ring size was unusually small, and the thin silver couldn't be sized easily. She'd have an excuse to refuse it without offending his pride.

They walked back to the counter where the ring waited on a black velvet liner. She looked around, but the salesclerk had disappeared into the back room, leaving them alone. "Trusting," Sam murmured.

"This isn't the city, sweetheart."

He picked up the ring and lifted her hand. "Whenever you look at this ring, think about me, this week, and what could be."

Before she could protest, he'd slipped the ring on her left hand, braced her face in his palms and lowered his head for a kiss. She tipped her head back, moaning as his lips played over hers in a gentle, coaxing motion. He bit gently on her lower lip and she opened at his command, letting his tongue dart inside and possess hers. Sam didn't know where fantasy began or reality left off. As long as Mac held her, touched and kissed her, as long as he treated her as if he loved her, she didn't care.

He raised his head and smiled. She looked into his eyes and her heart leaped in her chest. She'd offend his pride more by rejecting the gift than by letting him pay for it. "Thank you," she murmured.

"My pleasure." His hand went to hers as he lifted her finger. "A perfect fit."

She glanced down, amazed. "Sometimes you get lucky."

"Yes, you do." His gaze bore into hers. She was struck by the intensity she saw there before it quickly disappeared. "Ready to hit the road again?" he asked.

Was he trying to disarm her? If so, it was working. By giving her a glimpse of the generous man inside the sexy male body, he'd managed to charm her as well. She might not know details about the way he lived, but she was beginning to think she knew him in the ways that counted.

Enough for little doubts about the rest of her life to begin creeping in. She pushed them aside in favor of more practical considerations. "How far are we from the bar?" she asked.

"Another half an hour. Why?"

"I'm starving."

"You can't be hungry for food? We just ate."

"What else is there?" She laughed, but when she met his darkened gaze, the laughter died on her lips. She realized exactly what he desired. Her body understood and reacted. A tingling in her abdomen, a tightening in her breasts, and a soul-deep longing grew near her heart.

"Zee left his special chili in the refrigerator at the bar. Do you like it hot?" His voice resembled a growl.

She swallowed over the lump that had formed in her throat. "Very," she managed to say, thanking her lucky stars they were in a public place.

He exhaled a harsh groan. "Know what I like most about you?"

"My big heart?"

He grabbed her hand. The heat shot straight down to her toes. "Your even bigger stomach."

She smiled. "Food's an important consideration. You can't survive without it, you know."

His chuckle vibrated deep from his chest. "I know."

She waited while he signed and pocketed the credit card receipt, forcing deep, even breaths into her chest. They walked to the car, his ring on her finger and her hand tucked inside his.

Although desire was constantly sizzling beneath the surface, easy banter between them came naturally. How many long-married couples could claim both?

When she was with Mac, contentment filled her, but she knew it couldn't last. Which was why she had to keep reminding herself that their time together was nothing more than a fantasy. What else would she call a gypsy woman's promise that couldn't possibly come true?

She stood behind the bar, filling wooden bowls with nachos and dip, preparing for the night ahead. The lady was hotter than the salsa she poured, and to her credit, she had no idea. Saturday already. Time was slipping by fast.

Last night had been a typical Friday at The Hungry Bear-busy, hectic and generally insane. Samantha hadn't complained, merely pitched in and worked until closing, while Mac had spent the evening watching and wondering. She hadn't changed out of that damn dress, and though it hung to her ankles, it emphasized every subtle curve.

Not knowing if she wore a bra beneath the flowered fabric nearly did him in. The men at The Hungry Bear weren't blind and Samantha was new to these parts. That alone made her a point of interest. He wondered if they, too, were watching the rise and fall of her breasts as she worked. He'd spent half the damn night wiping the sweat off his forehead and reminding himself he'd promised restraint.

Which wasn't easy, considering she made sure she touched him each time she passed. Even if she hadn't, he'd catch a whiff of peaches. Her seductive scent stood out in the bar.

Then she passed out cold before he ever made it upstairs. Mac understood. Being on her feet all night was grueling for anyone, especially a novice. After a restless night's sleep, he'd awakened on Saturday close to noon. Samantha had still been out cold. So he'd used the time to head on over to The Resort and check in, making it back to The Hungry Bear in time for opening, bags of tortillas in hand.

She hadn't questioned his absence and he hadn't felt obligated to explain. Yet another thing he received from Samantha. Unconditional trust and understanding. He wondered how she'd take it when he told her the truth.

She'd forgive him. Although the body and beautiful face had attracted him first, her lack of awareness and pretense interested him most. She'd understand him. She had from the first.

Just as he understood her. The tired woman who pitched in behind the bar, the sensitive woman who'd confided in him, the woman with deep familial feelings and values, she had made the biggest impression. Not that he'd forgotten the supple curves beneath his hands, or her unabashed response to his touch. But so much more than the packaging appealed to him now.

Their outing yesterday had been a mistake. He hadn't given himself distance, he'd drawn himself in deeper. Every time he turned around, Samantha was there… in his thoughts, his dreams… his future?

All last night, he'd sensed her approach as she passed beside him, her hip brushing against him, her scent wrapping itself around him. How the hell was he supposed to keep his distance if she kept up the innocent touches, the soft laughter, or the inane questions about customers that had them sharing what seemed like intimate jokes.

Mac couldn't stand another minute. Coming up behind her, he grabbed her around the waist.

"Oh!" She jumped back into his chest before easing herself into him. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

"Why not? I get to hold you this way."

She turned in his arms, looping her hands around his neck. "You get to hold me any way."

He liked that thought. "I called Theresa, and there's no way she can make it in tonight."

"So?" She reached for a nacho and took a bite, then held the chip up to his mouth.

He finished it off, licking the salt off his lips and taking a nip at her finger as well. A small bite, but enough to make her eyes glaze with desire. He grinned. "So I'm shorthanded again."

Stepping backward, she held her arms out before him. "What are these, if not two very willing hands?" She slipped those hands beneath his shirt and placed her palms on his chest. With yesterday's confidences behind them, Samantha seemed to feel more comfortable around him. He let himself enjoy the free-spirited part of her nature.

"You're on vacation," he said through gritted teeth. Her warm hands against his flesh aroused him beyond belief.

"Define vacation."

"A break from reality, doing what you enjoy."

"Exactly." Her fingernails raked lightly against his chest. "Working in this bar is a break from nine-to-five corporate reality." She raised his shirt and pressed her lips to his skin. "And touching you is something I definitely enjoy." Her tongue darted out and back, tasting him briefly before she raised her gaze. "Unless you don't like it?"

She asked as if she really didn't know. The innocent asserting herself again. The woman was making keeping his promise to himself more difficult with each passing minute. He didn't know how much longer he could keep his hands off her. He let out a ragged groan.

"I guess you do." She treated him to a soft but sexy smile.

He'd wanted her before, but the feelings she inspired now were incredible. If the bar wasn't opening for business in fifteen minutes, he might lose his last shred of self-control. He wanted their first time to be someplace better than a tabletop in The Hungry Bear. A soft bed and plenty of lingering time was what he had in mind.

He pushed his hand through her hair, bringing her face within inches of his own. Just a kiss. A quick taste of her glossy lips. He bent his head and got a heady, moist taste… Just as a loud banging sound came from the bar door.

"Open up." When he got no immediate response, Zee yelled. "Dammit, Mac, I lost my key."

"The old man knows we're shorthanded. Probably thinks he's here to help."

Her face had turned a deep shade of red, and she pulled his shirt back down. Zee's distinctive cackle didn't help the situation. "Well he could have called first," she muttered.

He shot her an amused glance. "We're open in a few minutes," he reminded her.

"I'm going upstairs to wash up," she said. "I'll be back."

He gave Samantha time to disappear up the backstairs before calling out to Zee. "Hang on, I'm coming," Mac yelled. He pulled on his T-shirt and tucked it back into the waistband of his jeans. The insistent pounding continued even as Mac flipped the dead bolt and yanked open the door.

"We're still closed even for you."

Zee ignored him and walked inside. "I've known you all your life, Mackenzie. Don't pull any of that high-and-mighty crap on me."

Mac rolled his eyes. So the old man had been his father's best friend and a part of Mac's life for as long as he could remember. That didn't give him the right to interrupt his sex life and drive him generally insane. This place belonged to Bear, though, which gave the old man more right to be here than Mac. And he did love the codger like a father.

He followed Zee to a bar stool and sat down.

"Where's your lady friend?" Zee asked.

"You scared her off."

"Hah. Maybe she got smart and went to a hotel."

Mac leaned on an elbow. "If you want to know something, just ask."

"I did. Where's your lady friend?"

He groaned. "Upstairs."

"That's what I thought." Zee smacked Mac in the shoulder. "Didn't your daddy and I teach you boys anything? First my dumb son lets a woman give him the runaround, and then there's you."

"What the hell did I do?"

"In my day, a man married a woman before he took her to bed. I understand those rules don't apply today, but dammit boy, how about a little romance before you sleep with her?"

"I didn't sleep with her." Yet. He'd slept next to her, though, and Zee wouldn't approve of that, either. Mac let out another groan. He was thirty-five. His own father had died twelve years ago, and Zee had stepped in without asking, guiding him through every rough patch in his life. He always seemed to pop up whenever Mac needed a father's advice.

He didn't recall asking for that right now, but he respected Zee enough to listen and think about what the old man said.

"I don't want any of the gory details," Zee muttered. "I can see enough without 'em." His probing blue gaze settled on Mac's face. "Wipe the damn makeup off your lips. You look like a pansy."

Mac muttered a succinct curse and rubbed his lips with a paper napkin.

Zee shook his head. "I just want you to think with your brain and not your… Well, you know what I mean."

"You made your point."

"So is she any good?"

Mac let out a hearty chuckle. "Now, that's the Zee I expected."

The old man reached for one of the bowls Samantha had filled earlier. "She must be if you haven't given her the boot yet." A loud crunching sounded in Mac's ear.

"Gentlemen don't kiss and tell. Your rule."

"No, that one belonged to your daddy. I revealed plenty. The only way to corner Bear's mama into marrying me was by ruining her reputation." He grinned. "So you tell Sammy Jo the truth yet?"

"No." The answer earned Mac another swat in the shoulder. "She's from New Jersey," Mac said. As if that explained anything.

For the first time, he let himself think about the fact that not only would Samantha leave in a few days for her conference, but she had a life and a father who needed her back East. A strange emptiness accompanied the admission, one he knew he'd have to deal with, and soon.

Zee shrugged. "Heck, I thought the Wright boys invented the airplane."

"You're hilarious," Mac said. He wasn't ready to deal with a long-distance relationship any more than he was ready to reveal his feelings for Samantha to Zee. "I met the woman less than forty-eight hours ago." Funny, but it felt as if he'd known her much longer. "I barely know her." Yet he'd been more intimate with her without the benefit of sex than with any other woman he'd known.

"So why not level with her? Afraid she'll run the other way if she knows you're too wealthy for us mere mortals?"

"Actually, I'm more afraid she won't."

"Aah." Zee placed an understanding arm on Mac's shoulder. "I figured that was why you never picked up one of them spa bunnies. That's no excuse for not introducing me to one of 'em, but I'll forgive you."

Mac grinned. "And now I feel much better."

"When's she going back?" Zee asked.

Mac felt his smile turned to a frown. "Soon enough." Unless he changed her mind. He rose from his seat. "Just forget about it," he said to the well-meaning older man.

"I will… if you can do the same once she's gone."

He was about to respond, when the sound of footsteps running down the stairs stopped him. Unwilling to embarrass Samantha further, Mac crumpled the napkin and tossed it into the trash beneath the bar. Zee's knowing cackle followed his movement.

She cleared her throat, and Mac turned to see her standing beside him, dressed in a soft pink T-shirt, tight jeans and a matching bandanna threaded through the belt loops. Her hair fell over her shoulder, a soft smile touched her lips, and Mac knew he was in deep.

Things between them had shifted, and he wondered if he'd ever reclaim level ground.

Sam clasped her hands together in front of her. The ring shone on her finger, a reminder of how close she and Mac had become. Their trip hadn't given her time to think. Neither had his absence today. She hadn't learned how to handle him, just the opposite. She'd grown to care for this man who was supposed to be passing through her life. A life that until now had been dull in the extreme. She was approaching thirty, had lived an ordinary life, held an ordinary job and had dated ordinary men who she'd had little interest in becoming intimate with. She'd done the obligatory thing, seeing co-workers and allowing friends to set her up. She'd even slept with one man who had lasted beyond the awkward dating stage, one she'd hoped she could care for, but things had fizzled fast. Even then, she had never, ever contemplated the intimacy she craved with Mac.

True, she'd come out here seeking excitement, but her emotions were never supposed to come into play. He'd broken many barriers, she thought, fingering the token of his… what? Friendship, certainly. Affection? She met his gaze, and he treated her to a wink before continuing his conversation with Zee. The flutters in her stomach increased until she thought she might jump out of her skin. She didn't dare name anything else.

Each time she even looked at Mac, another emotional wall fell. She'd come to Arizona seeking passion, and she'd found it without even sleeping with him. Heaven help her when his body eventually did fuse with hers.

The churning in her stomach gave her a clue. How was that possible? How could her body crave him with such intensity, as if it knew what awaited her in Mac's arms?

"Hey, you okay?" Mac's warm hand touched her arm as he walked up to her.

She met his concerned gaze and forced a smile. "Couldn't be better. The bar opens in less than five minutes. I've got my sneakers on and I'm ready to work."

"That wasn't what I meant."

"I know what you meant." Reaching over, she touched a trembling hand to his still damp lips. Surely passion that burned so strong would douse itself soon.

Still, she couldn't help but wonder how she'd live the rest of her life without him if it didn't.