Just My Type (31 page)
Mac’s big hand rubbed up and down her back. “I’ll always take care of you, princess. Swear to God.” 174
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Her heart melted a little. “I know. But I want to learn stuff and do stuff. Stuff I’m interested in, stuff I’d be good at. I admire the other women here in Oscar. They work hard, but it’s at things that really matter to them, because it’s their business or their family or it’s taking care of their friends and town. I want to do something I choose that really matters to me.”
“I thought the center mattered to you,” Jessica said from where she shared a cooler with Ben.
Sara turned to her sister, who was so much more than just a sister. “It does. Very much. But I want to volunteer there like you all do because I love it. I don’t want to
work
there because my sister made up a job for me.”
Jessica didn’t nod her agreement, however she seemed to be thinking about it, and Sara knew she’d understand.
“You sure massage therapy and having your own business here in Oscar are what you want to do?” Mac asked.
“I think so.” As she said it, she felt like a bright light had been turned on inside of her. She felt happy.
“I want to do something from scratch, the hard way, like everyone else. I want to be here in Oscar where everyone will know me and they’ll come in for the conversation as much as for the massage.” She turned to look at the group who she considered her family, blood siblings or not. “You’re all the best. I love you all so much. But I want to be accepted into a group because of who I am, not because I’ve just always been there or I’m someone’s little sister.”
“Hey, we all love you too,” Sam protested.
She grinned at him. “I know. And this group is my rock. But I want to start a group of friends from scratch too. Where I do stuff for them as much as they do for me.”
“You do stuff for us,” Mac inserted.
“Well, you do more stuff for
some
of us than others.” Dooley waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Sara felt Mac tighten his arm around her. “Damn right,” he growled. “You won’t be starting from scratch with that.”
She wrapped her arms around him too and smiled. “Damn right.”
“Oh, shit, Mac, you’re killing me,” Sam groaned.
He and Mac were watching Dooley and Ben measure the windows.
Mac faced him. “What?”
“I see how you watch her. Damn, what am I supposed to do when you look at her like that?” Mac frowned. “Like what?”
“Like Sam watches Danika,” Ben said, coming up beside his brother-in-law.
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Mac and Sam looked at each other. Mac had seen exactly the expression Ben was referring to on Sam’s face a number of times.
“I look at her like that?”
“Yeah,” Sam said softly. “You really do love her.”
Mac frowned at him. “You thought I was just saying that?” Sam shrugged. “I guess it didn’t hit me what it meant until now. If you feel for Sara the way I feel about Danika… Well, damn, buddy, there’s nothing I—or you—can do about it anyway.” Mac rolled his eyes. “Well, no shit.”
Ben laughed and shoved Sam. “You both should just wallow in it like I do. Just be sickeningly in love. Who cares what anyone else thinks?”
Mac and Sam both readily agreed Ben and Jessica were sickening. Inside Mac was pretty sure he was looking forward to being exactly the same way with Sara.
“You mean like this?” Sam asked, catching his wife’s arm as she walked past. He swung her around, backed her up against the closest wall and kissed her like they were completely alone in their bedroom.
Danika’s cheeks were pink when he finally let her go. “What was
that
for?”
“Medical advice,” Sam said simply, looking very smug.
Her eyes flickered to Ben and she simply said, “Oh.” Then moved off to re-join the other girls, still looking a little dazed.
“Sickening enough for you?” Sam asked.
“Kind of hot,” Ben admitted glancing around the room. “Where’s Jess?” Mac knew exactly where Sara was. But he wanted a little privacy for
his
display of affection. Sam might be okay with them being together, but watching Mac undress his little sister might be pushing it.
“I think it’s time you all head back to Omaha.”
Sam started to say something. Then he met Mac’s gaze. Slowly he nodded. “Probably is. We’ll be making a bunch of trips up here anyway to finish the shop.”
“Right.” Mac started walking him toward the door. “Dani, you’re ride’s leaving!” he called over his shoulder.
Ben was already packing up the coolers and Mac heard him tell Dooley to “shut the hell up” about something.
Mac really liked Ben.
Within fifteen minutes they were all packed up, loaded in their cars and heading out on Main Street.
Mac turned to his wife. “Let’s go home.”
She gave him a playful grin. “We just started painting.”
“We’re not going to be painting until we dry-wall.”
“Maybe we should start on that.” She started backing away as he advanced.
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“Don’t have any materials.”
“We should go and get some.” She giggled as she had to skirt the can of paint.
“No, we shouldn’t.”
She reversed until her back met the wall. Mac stopped directly in front of her, cupped the back of her head and bent to put his nose behind her ear where he breathed deep.
“Are we going to do this here?” she asked breathlessly. She looked more than interested.
He touched the skin behind her ear with his lips, then his tongue. “If I took you up against this wall, you would think of it every time you were in here.”
She pulled in a shaky breath, her hands gathering the front of his shirt in two fists. “Yeah.” Mac felt a surge of heat and desire jolt through him. “But,” he said, lifting his head to look her directly in the eye, “I’ve developed a definite affinity for my bed.” That was where Sara belonged. In a bed.
With a husband who cherished her. Not some guy who could have sex anywhere, any time. He could wait until they got home. He would make a point of waiting. Sara deserved that.
“Okay,” she said with a sexy smile. “Take me home. To bed. But hurry up.” He proved he could wait. But he did break the speed limit.
Sara didn’t see her breakfast guest right away. But she felt him.
Her big toe came into contact with something in the middle of the kitchen. Something weird. The something wasn’t heavy or immoveable, it didn’t hurt her toe, it didn’t make a noise. It felt a little like she’d kicked a jump rope.
She really didn’t want to open her eyes then.
She did, of course, because she didn’t want to run into anything that was actually heavy, immovable or painful to kick. Then she wished she hadn’t.
The jump rope was about the right size and shape. But it was black and orange. And had a head.
She felt faint as the snake slithered away from her. She was glad he was moving in the opposite direction, but was not very happy he was moving at all. Or even that he was
there.
What the hell was a snake doing in the kitchen anyway?
She closed her eyes but her head spun, so she opened them again. The snake was still there.
She wasn’t sure which was worse—closed and spinning, or open and not alone.
The snake slithered in the direction of the living room. That was really one of the big problems with snakes, she decided then. It was the slithering. Made them all the more creepy.
As it neared the arched doorway, she shook herself. “Uh, no way.” It was
not
going into the living room. She looked around frantically. She had no idea what to do with a snake but she was not letting it into
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the rest of the house where there were lots of things to get under and hide and wait to freak her out. As it was she was never going to walk into a room without looking for black and orange objects again.
She noticed the big plastic bowl she’d used for popcorn the night before. Tossing the unpopped kernels in the trash can, she tiptoed toward the snake.
A shudder went through her. Snake. Even the word was creepy.
Not to mention his coloring. Black and orange was just naturally sinister. Nothing friendly, warm and cuddly was ever black and orange. Okay, maybe the occasional kitten. But black widows were black and orange too.
And poisonous. Sara froze. Were there poisonous snakes in Nebraska? Hell if she knew. She’d never been this close to a snake—that she knew of anyway—of any color.
She eyed him critically. She didn’t want to get much closer, but she also didn’t want a potentially poisonous and definitely creepy snake loose in the house.
Dammit. She had to do this. She moved closer, leaned over and reached as far as she could, holding the edge of the counter with her opposite hand to keep from falling as she half placed, half tossed the bowl over the snake, trapping him underneath. She managed it on the first try.
Breathing deeply for the first time in several minutes, she eyed the bowl. It was just plastic. Not all that heavy. She ran to the living room, grabbed one of the books from the ancient set of encyclopedias and balanced it on top, weighing the bowl down and preventing any escape from thrashing angry snakes.
She breathed again, shivered once and headed to find her cell phone.
Maybe Sean would come over and get rid of the thing. Even covered with a bowl and the thickest book in the house, she did
not
want a snake within one hundred feet of her. Two hundred would be even better.
The call went straight to Sean’s voice mail and she realized with a glance at the clock that he was in school. The snake could
not
stay in the house until four o’clock or whenever Sean got home. Mac would be home in the next two hours, but for some reason she knew she had to do this before he got home. He was a part of the gang who didn’t think she could paint a wall by herself. Facing a snake by herself would shock them.
She heard the snake bump against the side of the bowl and her eyes widened. He was getting mad.
How strong was a snake like that? Especially ticked off? He was a wild animal. His survival instincts had to be colossal.
Then she frowned.
There were no air holes, of course. How long could he stay under there and not have air? Probably not long. His lungs… Did snakes have lungs? They had to. Right? Anyway, if he had them, his lungs were tiny.
She sighed. She didn’t want him to move in and wasn’t thrilled he’d stopped by, but she didn’t want him to die. Especially because she really didn’t want to deal with a dead snake.
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Crap.
Yeah. He had to go.
Now.
She glared at her phone. She had no one to call. No advice. No one to come do it for her. This was awesome. Yeah, right.
She sighed again. Fine. Okay. She could do this. As long as he didn’t bite her—or jump, or get away.
Surely she could tip the bowl over, scoop him into it, cover it and then run like hell outside to dump him out. Far, far, far away from the house.
How far was far enough? Would he come back? Would he bring friends.
If only she had Google.
Muttering expletives, she surveyed the kitchen. There was a lid that went with the bowl. All she needed was something to scoop him with. Something with a
long
handle that would enable her to stay as far away as possible. And she needed something to cover every single centimeter of bare skin he could even possibly bite.
She took the stairs two at a time, quickly donned two pairs of socks and her tennis shoes, jeans and a long-sleeved shirt of Mac’s. Back in the kitchen, she pulled on oven mitts, grabbed the longest-handled utensil she could find—the barbecue tongs for the grill.
Wishing for some kind of face mask, she approached the bowl.
Just get it over with. Just do it. You can breath later.
She took the book off, swallowed hard and flipped, scooped, covered and ran.
She didn’t stop until she was out of breath.
She ran back to the house too. She didn’t really think the snake would follow her. But she wasn’t taking any chances.
It took her almost an hour to search the entire house, under and in everything a snake could use to hide from her. She shuddered the whole time, hoping she wouldn’t find anything.
When the house came up clean, she drank a glass of wine and slid into the tub, relaxing her tense muscles into the strawberry-scented bubbles. Only after she’d soaked for thirty minutes and the wine had slipped into her veins did she finally smile.
She’d gotten rid of a snake, all by herself.
Ha!
“Princess?”
Her smile grew. Mac was home.
“In here.” She swirled her toes in the water, anticipation tightening the muscles she’d just loosened.
“What are you…” He trailed off as he saw her lying in the tub.
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“Want to join me?” She swirled her hands, causing the bubbles to shift and float away from her breasts.
“Yeah.” He started undressing, pulling his T-shirt off and tossing it to the side. “But the tub isn’t very big.”
His belt came off as he pushed his shoe from his left foot with his right.
“We’ll have to stay really close together, then.” She sat up partially, letting the water and bubbles slide from her breasts to just below her belly button.
His eyes firmly on her already-erect nipples, Mac stripped out of his pants and underwear.
“Come here.”
“You come here.”
He shook his head even as he stepped up next to the tub. “I want plenty of room to move.”
“I want you right here, right now.”
“On the bed.”
The sex was amazing. She couldn’t get enough of him. But it was always on the bed. She wanted something…naughtier. He was always in control, everything perfectly orchestrated. She wasn’t complaining about the results. But she wanted him crazy. So hot for her that he couldn’t wait to take her wherever they were. Even the first night when he’d had her naked in the car, he’d still managed to wait until they were in the bed. She wanted something…wilder.