Simply The Best Read online

  “I’m just making sure every last bit is gone. I can handle cleaning up, Mack. You can go home.”

  “Are you kicking me out?”

  “No. But there’s really no reason to stay.” She sipped at her soda, avoiding his gaze.

  “I don’t mind helping you. That’s what friends are for, right?”

  “Friends, yes, not gluttons for punishment. Seriously. I took this mess on.” She made a sweeping gesture of the house. “It’s my job to tackle, not yours.”

  Maybe so, but Mack saw the house as a way to both tempt and torture himself. He could spend more time with Alex—a win and a lose situation all at once. A win because it helped appease this constant throbbing need to see her, be with her, inside him—

  And a lose because it just made that throbbing need worse.

  Okay, so maybe he was a glutton for punishment.

  Still, he didn’t understand why all of a sudden she wanted him out of here when not three hours ago they’d agreed that he was going to help her. Especially when she must have realized by now this job was too much for one woman. “You want to renovate this place, right?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “And you are not Joe Builder.”

  She sighed. “True. If there’s one thing I learned today, it’s that no matter how many episodes of Trading Spaces I watch I’m never going to turn into a contractor.”

  “Good. I’m glad you agree with me. For once.” He grinned. “So you’re stuck with me. Day after day. For long hours, working side by side.”

  She swallowed hard. Looked away and started fiddling with a pile of nails on the temporary workbench he’d made out of some plywood. “I can’t let you do that.”

  Mack stepped forward and tipped her chin up to meet his. Alex’s green eyes were wide, almost luminescent in the overly bright light cast by the halogen lamp set up in the corner. Her lips were cherry red, moist from the soda, and so damn kissable, they could have been a commercial. “It’s not a favor, Alex. This is good for me, too. I’ve been the boss man of my company, sitting on my butt and directing people way too long. It’s nice to be working with my hands for a change. Reminds me why I went into construction in the first place.”

  She considered that for a moment. “Okay. But if you insist on helping me, then I’ll pay you. Keep it a business-only transaction.”

  He grinned. “Last I checked, you didn’t have any money.”

  “I have some. I have a job.”

  He released her chin but didn’t move away, just kept inhaling her perfume, wanting her with a nearly painful desire. He knew he shouldn’t do this. Knew he’d already treaded way too close today, but couldn’t stop himself.

  Torture and pleasure at the same time. Damn, even dogs learned faster than he did. “You’re a reporter, not a Rockefeller. And if you’re here with me all the time, you won’t be doing much reporting.”

  “True.”

  “Go to work, let me do the heavy lifting, and you can help after you’re done at the paper. I can get you materials at cost, which should make a difference in your budget.”

  “Mack, friends or not, I can’t let you do all this for nothing. What do you want?”

  You. A bed. One very long weekend. And a can of whipped cream.

  Mack cleared his throat. “Nothing.”

  She put her fists on her hips. When she looked at him like that, he had trouble breathing, because her breasts perked up and her eyes flashed, and everything about her came alive. And made everything within him do the same.

  “Come on, Mack, there has to be something I can do for you.”

  “My father—” he blurted out before he could think.

  Damn. He hadn’t meant to say that. He’d just been scrambling to come up with something before he mentioned a motel room instead.

  “Your father what?”

  “Nothing.” He went back to work with the broom.

  She got in front of him. “Will you talk to me?”

  Mack wasn’t a spill-his-guts kind of guy. He liked to keep his guts right where they were, tucked inside. But with Alex looking at him, her green eyes wide, the urge to open up to her doubled. Just like when he’d been a kid and he’d snuck over to her grandmother’s house in the middle of the night, crawling into the window of Alex’s room, because he’d gotten scared when he’d overheard his parents arguing long into the night. Alex had gotten out her Monopoly game and made him play until he forgot every bad thing that he had heard in his living room.

  He let out a breath. “My dad needs a project. Needs something to get him out of the house. He’s locked himself inside there since my mother left him. This house is the sort of small challenge he needs.”

  “This is a small challenge?”

  Mack laughed. “Okay, it’s bigger than that. But it’s not as big or as much pressure as building a house. And it’ll give me an excuse to drag him someplace every day.”

  “Gee, when you put it that way. Drag him over here, kicking and screaming…How can I resist?” She put out her palm. “Should we shake on it?”

  Shake hands?

  Mack had a better idea. He’d much rather seal the deal with a kiss. He took a step forward, desire rocketing through him fast, furious, pounding in his head, when Alex misinterpreted his movement and took his palm, pumping his hand vigorously.

  “Good, we have a deal.” Her smile widened. “Now, if you can find me a hot guy who doesn’t think lying is a part-time job, my life will be complete.”

  Once again, Alex had reminded Mack that she thought of him as a friend. Not a potential boyfriend.

  Reminded him of the promise he’d made that day by the pool. Clearly, a moment of delusional thinking. But also the best course. He had all the staying power of runny glue, and she wanted a man with bondability.

  All his life, he’d done what he could to ensure Alex’s safety. Happiness. Why would he deny her this? Even if, when he looked down into Alex’s eyes, his hand still gripping hers, every nerve in his body sang at her touch, acutely aware of her presence. Even if he wanted her in a way he’d never wanted any woman before.

  “Hey, what about me?” he asked, giving her a grin. Saying it like a joke. Not meaning it that way at all.

  “You?” she laughed. “Mack, no offense, but…”

  “What?”

  “You’re a great friend. The guy every woman calls when the power’s out and she needs someone to keep her company. Or she needs a date to some family function just to shut Aunt Eloise up about her shriveling ovaries. But you and I both know you are not settling-down material, and that’s what I’m looking for. A guy who wants to put up a fence and build a future. Make plans.”

  He took a step closer, filling the gap between them. “You? The woman who has run from anything resembling a plan all her life?”

  “Hey, we all have to grow up sometime.”

  “Maybe so. I tried it myself, Alex. Believe me, there’s a lot of false advertising out there about being part of the white picket fence life.”

  She sighed. “Mack, all I want is to be happy. Maybe I won’t find everything I want with a white picket fence, but I think it’s about time I tried, don’t you?”

  His gaze roamed over her face. Then down her lithe figure and back up again to those deep green eyes, so vibrant they were like a meadow in spring.

  Alex was right.

  She’d never be happy with him. Not in a relationship, at least. And if Mack wanted to do what was best for Alex, he’d keep his promise to introduce her to a man who wouldn’t break her heart.

  In other words, a man as far removed from himself as possible.

  “I’ll find you a Mr. Perfect,” Mack said, moving away until he no longer caught the scent of raspberries. “After all, isn’t that what friends are for?”

  Chapter Six

  “Tell me again why I’m wearing this ridiculous thing,” Alex said on Sunday night. She stared down at her skirt, and saw far too little material and way too much leg.
/>   “Because this guy might just be the one and don’t you want to meet Mr. Right for the first time in something that screams hot?” Renee turned Alex toward the mirror and gave a little flourish wave. “See? Doesn’t that make the perfect first impression?”

  “It screams harlot. He’ll think I’m a prostitute.”

  Renee grinned. It was the first time she’d smiled in three days and at this point, Alex would have worn Go-Go boots and a Miracle Bra to keep a smile on Renee’s face.

  “Look at the upside,” Renee said. “If he mistakes you for a hooker, it might just turn out to be a very lucrative part-time job. A win-win now that you’ve taken on that money pit.”

  Alex rolled her eyes, then took one more assessing glance in the mirror. For a first date, this ensemble—a black leather skirt, high heels and a red scoop-neck top—topped the too-sexy meter. Mack would undoubtedly agree.

  Or would his eyes light up with appreciation if he saw her? Would that familiar grin curve across his face, and instead of teasing her like one of the guys, tell her she was beautiful, desirable?

  Whoa. Where had that come from? Since when did she worry about what Mack thought of what she wore? Since he’d gotten close enough to kiss her the other day. Since he’d muddied the waters of their friendship by making her wonder if she’d read desire in his eyes—or just imagined it. Like she was imagining him desiring her now.

  Clearly a sign she needed a different outfit.

  “I’m changing,” Alex said.

  “You’ll regret it,” Renee said. “Your ovaries are aging by the second, you know.”

  “Thanks for the reminder,” Alex said, ducking into the closet, peeling off the outfit and opting for the second choice she’d brought along—black jeans and a turquoise V-neck top. She stepped out and flung out her arms in a ta-da gesture. “This is more me.”

  Renee mocked a yawn as she moved around the bedroom picking up stuffed animals and little toys that had been left behind like a Hansel and Gretel crumb trail. The kids weren’t home but evidence of them was in every nook and cranny of the tiny apartment. “That’s like putting a Buick in the driveway when you could have been revving a Firebird down the street. Which do you think will get a second glance?”

  “Maybe you should wear the skirt. Nothing gets a husband raring like a miniskirt, right?” Alex gave Renee a hopeful smile. “Go on down to Tony’s brother’s house and talk to your husband. You two need to work things out, hon.”

  Renee turned away and busied herself with folding three other rejected shirts. The hunch had returned to her shoulders. “Tony living there is only temporary. He’ll be back.”

  Worry tightened in Alex’s chest. Should she probe? Let it go?

  Thus far, her friend hadn’t talked about what was going on in her marriage. Why she had given up on it—for the third time in eleven years—and why she had been alone in this apartment for three days. She simply clammed up whenever Alex brought up the subject.

  Maybe Alex should talk to Mack. He and Tony were good friends. Mack had to know something. Perhaps he could intervene, figure out what was going on between the two of them. Or at the very least, convince Tony to come home.

  Alex reached out and laid a hand over Renee’s, stopping her from refolding a sweater for the fourth time. “Renee, I’m just worried about you. I care about both you and Tony, and the kids. I want to see everything work out.”

  Renee put down the sweater. “Aren’t you going to be late?”

  “I have time.”

  “Well, I’d love to talk, but I don’t have time right now. I have…plans.”

  “You never mentioned any plans.” What was Renee hiding? And why did she refuse to talk about the issues?

  “Tony picked up the kids after dinner and took them to Putt-Putt, which leaves me totally alone for a couple hours. I’m going to pretend there isn’t a huge stack of laundry waiting for me in the other room and just enjoy myself.” Again, another smile, but nothing that told Alex any information.

  When it came to her personal life, Renee had been pushing Alex away more and more lately, and Alex couldn’t figure out why. A wall had gone up, a wall between Renee and Tony, a wall between her and Alex, and Renee wouldn’t let anyone in. On the outside, Renee acted normal, but her emotions were guarded, closed, as if she were hiding something. Even at work, she’d stopped going out to lunch with Alex, when it used to be a daily occurrence. Now, she begged off, saying she was too busy or had other plans, or had a meeting. Yet, more than once, Alex had seen Renee leaving the office with Bill Rhinehart. For companionship?

  Or something more?

  Whenever Alex asked, Renee ducked and dodged. In all the years Alex had known Renee, they’d never had secrets. But the nagging feeling that Renee was hiding something now refused to die.

  “Why is he picking you up here?” Renee asked, returning Alex’s thoughts to the present.

  To her date. With Mack’s choice for Mr. Right. Alex could only imagine what that could be.

  “As far as Mack thinks, I’m living here. And I can’t have my date dropping me off at that house. That place is just plain embarrassing.”

  “Not to mention unsafe.” Renee wagged a finger at her. “It’s a construction zone, Alex. You shouldn’t be living there. If Mack found out—”

  “He’s not going to. Besides, I have no place else to live, Renee.”

  “You could live here.”

  “And sleep where? No offense, but your apartment is the size of a postage stamp and you already have three kids.”

  “Mack has a huge house.”

  “Mack is like Casanova on speed. There is no way I’m living with him.”

  “Maybe…” Renee began, smoothing a hand over the pile of clothes and avoiding Alex’s gaze, “it’s more about not wanting to see Mack bringing home other women.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You can’t tell me you don’t have a thing for that man. He is seriously hot.”

  Hot didn’t begin to describe Mack or how her body had reacted to his the other day. Hot didn’t begin to touch how close she’d come to kissing him. How she’d toyed with the idea, turning it around in her mind a hundred thousand times since. But lust didn’t always lead to good sense, and Mack and her together definitely didn’t make good sense.

  “Renee, he grew up next door to me. Lived at my house as much as his own. He’s practically my brother.”

  “Yeah, well, he isn’t related to you.” Renee rose and replaced the shirts in the closet before returning to her lecture. “And you should be thanking God for that fact, because that would be a cruel twist of nature if he was. You should rethink Mack.”

  “Why do you always think there’s something between Mack and me? He’s just a friend, Renee. He’d never date me, and vice versa.”

  “He’s a man, Alex. You’re a woman. That’s basic sex math.”

  “Sex math? Is that some class I missed in high school?”

  Renee laughed. “Obviously.”

  “Mack isn’t interested in me. Ever since we were little, the man has acted like I’m as interesting as a potted plant and as annoying as a wasp. Either way, if he was interested in me, why would he be fixing me up with guys like Steve? I’m telling you, Renee, he does not have a thing for me.” Alex picked up a forgotten T-shirt and concentrated on folding it, avoiding Renee’s gaze.

  “Do you find him attractive?”

  “Well, of course. He’s a good-looking guy.” Alex’s attention remained on the shirt she was folding, but her face had reddened.

  “Is there a buzz of electricity when you’re around Mack?” Renee moved closer, dipping her head to study Alex’s face.

  “Certainly not.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Alex finally looked up and met Renee’s eyes. “Okay, maybe a little. But nothing is ever going to happen between us. Mack is way too unpredictable and unstable and uncommitted for me.”

  “There is that.” Renee sig
hed and sat on the edge of the queen-sized mattress. “And, believe me, you want a man who believes wholeheartedly in marriage. You can’t carry that ball alone.”

  “Renee.” Alex sank onto the bed beside her friend. “What’s going on with you and Tony?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” The doorbell rang. Renee sprung to her feet, clearly glad for the interruption. “There’s your date. Go have a good time.”

  “Only if you promise that when I get back, we’ll talk.”

  “Answer the door,” Renee said, waving in that direction. “Don’t keep him waiting too long.”

  “Maybe I should cancel the date and stay here. With you.”

  “Me?” Renee brightened and together they left the bedroom. “I’m fine. Really. I’m going to make a ton of popcorn with too much butter and cry my way through Sleepless in Seattle. And when you get back, I want details about your date. Let me live vicariously through you. Okay?”

  Alex bit her lip, considering. The doorbell rang again, and she decided Renee did look better. Less upset than earlier. “Okay. Wait up for me.”

  “I will. Now go open door number one so I can see what surprise Bob Barker sent over.”

  Alex crossed to the door and pulled it open. She hadn’t been quite sure what to expect when Mack had offered to fix her up. She knew Mack and Mack’s taste in women—thin, blonde, vacuous—but as to his taste in dates for her, she’d been dubious.

  Oh, how she had misjudged Mack. A young George Clooney stood in the hallway, a spray of white roses in one hand and a wide smile on his face. “Alexandra?”

  “You must be Steve.”

  He put out his free hand. “Steve Rowen. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  She shook his hand, finding a warm, firm grip. No zing of attraction went through her, but she chalked that up to the fact they’d just met. Not to mention she’d had a long day of hard work. That was it. She was tired, so not being bowled over immediately by Steve was to be expected. She invited him in, taking the flowers from him as she did. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

  “Mack said you like roses. White especially.”