Just My Type (9 page)
“You don’t really think of me as a sister, do you, Mac?” she asked in a whisper. No teasing, no flirting, she just needed to know.
“I did. For a long, long time, princess.”
“I know. But now…”
“It’s been a while since it was that simple.”
Sara would have thought that admission from him would make her heart leap and cause little cupids to begin dancing on the tabletop.
Instead, she felt relieved.
“So,” Mac said, after the silence had stretched several long moments. “Now what?”
49
Erin Nicholas
Now what? She looked at him. That face that she loved, that body that she wanted, that character she needed.
“I know what you want me to say,” she told him. “But I don’t want to go back to the way it’s always been. Not with the way I feel about you.”
He looked angry. “You’re going to keep on trying to seduce me and making me turn you down?”
“You’ll eventually say yes.”
He glared down at her. “God, I wish…”
“That you’d done more last night?”
Heat, which could have been anger or lust, flared in his eyes. “That you would have had even one person, ever in your life, say no to you.”
“Ready to order?” The waiter had returned.
“No.” Mac’s tone was enough to send the man quickly back to the kitchen.
Sara felt much braver than she probably should. But not having Mac in her life forever was simply not an acceptable option and she refused to even let him consider it.
“I think you know what’s going to happen,” she told him.
He stepped closer, shoving the chair between them out of the way. The scrape of the wood leg against the wood floor grated. He glared down at her. “You think if we have a fling you’ll get over me and these feeling and
then
we can go back to how things need to be?” Sara closed the remaining inches between them and risked touching his chest. He did not pull away from her hand and she found her courage and optimism bolstered. “Mac, I know for a fact once we make love, nothing will ever be the same.”
He pulled in and let out a long breath. “Dammit, Sara,” he swore. “What the hell do you think you want here? You want to fuck me? I can maybe live with that. You want to date me? That’s stupid. You want to move in, spend every waking moment together, be the only woman I ever look at again? You’ve
got
to know that isn’t going to happen.”
She didn’t flinch, she didn’t blink. “Yes. I want all of that.”
“And it’s that easy in your mind?”
“Yes.”
“Your brother will kill me if he even finds out I’ve seen you half-naked. If we sleep together, he’ll…never forgive me.”
Sara stood strong, but she had to dig her fingernails into her palm. She saw the pain it caused Mac to think of disappointing—or betraying and losing—his best friend. But she believed Sam wanted her to be happy. Once he understood that Mac was the answer to that, he’d come around.
“Sam wouldn’t kill the man I love.”
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Just My Type
Something flashed in Mac’s eyes and he leaned toward her. Just when she was sure he was going to kiss her, he pulled back. His eyes narrowed. “You have this happy little picture in your mind of how this is going to go. We date. Everyone is overjoyed for us, no problems, no resentments. I buy you flowers and candy. You cook candlelight dinners. We walk on the beach at sunset. Blah, blah, blah.” Other than the fact she didn’t cook and there wasn’t a beach within a hundred miles of Omaha, the whole thing sounded pretty good.
“This is so typical.” He pointed his finger at the tip of her nose. “You’re thinking about you. What about everyone else? Our friends have feelings you know. They need our group too. And if we change anything it changes everything. For everyone.”
She knew that. She was living it with her brother and sister. It was inevitable things were going to change—she’d accepted that—but she was going to be sure any change with Mac was in
her
favor.
Typical? Maybe. Selfish? Maybe. Still her plan no matter what? Absolutely.
“I love them too,” she said softly.
“Do you? This could hurt them. Badly.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
“What about when we break up?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if we date and everyone is as great with it as you seem to think they will be, when we break up
that
will mess up the whole group.”
“The group is already messed up!” she exclaimed.
Her reaction surprised him enough that Mac didn’t respond right away.
“Do you think I haven’t thought of all of this?” She frowned up at him. “I’m not stupid. At least this change I’m a part of and in some control of.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I see.”
“No you don’t.” Although she was pretty sure he did. “Things have already changed. Ben, Danika, the baby. Us changing it more won’t make a difference. It will be even better because it’s us, the two of us, still there—just together.”
He shook his head, exasperated. “Lord, princess, you’re a pain in the ass. I am definitely going to break up with you after we sleep together.”
She smiled in spite of his words. She was winning, slowly but surely. “No, we’ll stay together. It will be much easier on the group.”
“Stay together until they’re all dead and can’t care?”
“We’ll stay together period. We can have it all.”
His eyes narrowed slowly. “You think I’m going to
marry
you?”
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Erin Nicholas
She lifted a shoulder, ignoring the way her heart thudded at the word
marry
and that Mac seemed quite clearly appalled by the idea.
“Might as well. We’re going to be sleeping together for the rest of our lives anyway.”
“And that’s all marriage is,” Mac said, his words dripping in sarcasm.
“You think I’m that naïve?” she asked, getting a bit irritated by this whole being-with-you-is-such-a-horrible-idea thing. Being with her was
not
a horrible idea. She was great. She was especially great for Mac. He should be
thrilled
she wanted to marry him.
And she did. She wanted to marry him.
“I know marriage is more than sex,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s also
compromise.
Not always getting your way, giving in once in a while,” Mac said, leaning in and trying to look mean. “Can you even spell compromise, Sara?”
“Can I get you some water?” The waiter was back, probably sent out again by the restaurant owner to attempt to get
something
for the crazy American tourists.
“No.” Mac slipped a twenty from his pocket and handed it to the boy. “We’ll tell you when we’re ready.”
“For someone who lectures me about always expecting to get my way, you sure don’t mind having everyone do what you want them to,” Sara commented. “You’re even willing to pay for it.”
“You want me to
pay
you to forget all this craziness and leave it alone?” he asked. “I will. Thousands, Sara. Cash.”
She shook her head. “Never. I know what I want and money won’t help me get it.”
“How about sacrifice? That’s a good marriage word too. Heard that term before, princess?” he asked dryly. “How about putting what’s best for someone else ahead of what you want and need?”
“I’m thinking of you and your needs right now.”
“You think I
need
you?”
She met his eyes evenly and prayed to God she was right. “Yes. I do.” He ground his back teeth together, then said, “You think highly of yourself.”
“Because you’ve been telling me how wonderful I am for years.” That stumped him for a moment. “Maybe I should start insulting you.”
“Go ahead.” She stepped back and spread her arms. Mac adored her. She knew he cared. He loved her. He didn’t know, maybe, that he was also
in love
with her, but he thought she was great. A huge headache sometimes, but great.
He looked at her for a long moment. Then said, “I like your hair curly better.” It wasn’t even a true insult. She smiled.
“You’re a brat sometimes,” he added.
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Just My Type
She shrugged. She
was
a brat sometimes. Just like he could be a jerk. In spite of which, she still loved him desperately.
“You give me all kinds of headaches.” He’d moved closer again and they were an inch away from being belly to belly. His voice had lost the angry edge.
“I know.”
“You’re spoiled.”
“You helped with that too.”
“You’re sexy as hell.”
The sudden shift caught her by surprise and she sucked in a quick breath.
“You know what you do to me, don’t you?” he asked, lifting his hand to her face. “You’re so sure of all of this because you know you make me hard just by breathing.” He slid his hand from her cheek to the back of her head. His fingers tangled deep in her hair, warm against her skull. “You know I think of you when I’m jerking off in the shower.”
Her eyes widened and liquid heat flowed through her veins, touching every cell.
He pulled her closer. “You know I’ll never sleep well at night until I know what you sound like when you come.” His next words were whispered against her lips. “And you’re using it against me.” Before she could reply he’d covered her lips with his, immediately stroking into her mouth with his tongue, not letting her move or even think. He held her firmly and made sweet love to her mouth.
She loved every second of it and simply gave in. It was what he demanded, though she figured he would not have been surprised if she’d fought him. Then again, why would she fight when he was giving her exactly what she wanted?
He gave up for the moment. How could he fight Sara giving him exactly what he wanted?
Her
.
He was only a man.
Hearing her say she loved him, that he needed her, that she wanted him to make love to her for the rest of her life had been slowly chipping away at his resolve. He wanted her. God knew how he wanted her.
And he did love her.
Hell, he’d been feeling guilty about that for a couple of years now.
He just couldn’t have her.
And he sure as hell was
not
going to marry her. But Sara couldn’t define the word no.
There might be only one way out of this and it wasn’t going to be easy—on either of them.
He couldn’t insult her and he couldn’t be mean to her. This was Sara after all. He could not break her heart.
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Erin Nicholas
He could, however, ruin her illusion of him—of them. All he had to do was reveal the side of him he’d carefully hidden all these years.
Simply put, he wasn’t a nice-boyfriend type of guy.
He was a good friend, a great paramedic, a really good time. But he wasn’t romantic or noble or selfless with women. He’d learned, the hard way, to find the right women for what he wanted. He liked his sex raw and dirty and was never going to live with guilt over that again.
The best advice he’d gotten on the subject had been from his grandmother. Of all people. She hadn’t used the word sex or tramp or slut, of course. But after one particularly bad breakup with a very nice girl, she’d told him that even though parrots and whales were both beautiful creatures, he needed to decide if he wanted to fly or swim and quit expecting the parrots to be okay with the waves he made.
Even then he’d thought it was a pretty clever metaphor, but being a smart ass he’d asked if she thought girls would appreciate being called whales. She’d smacked him on the side of his head and told him bluntly that he should stay away from nice girls. He’d taken the advice to heart. It was unfortunate it hadn’t come until after the third parrot.
Sara was a nice girl. A parrot, for sure.
A
stubborn
parrot.
Convincing her
she
did not want
him
was the only way this was going to work out without anyone getting hurt. And was probably going to be easier than convincing her he didn’t want her.
He pulled his mouth from hers, loving how she followed him with her lips for a moment, not wanting to let him go.
“I want to see you naked. Now.”
She nodded, looking slightly dazed. “Let’s go to my condo.” He shook his head. “Now.” He watched her look around the empty restaurant. It was past lunch and before dinner, so there wasn’t a crowd—or an audience—but there was no way sweet Sara would get naked in public.
“Here?” she asked.
He crossed his arms and tried to look disappointed. “I like a streak of exhibitionism,” he said. He did too. He’d had sex in more than one public restroom and in two storage rooms he could think of. And there had been a couple of times in his car in public parking lots. And an elevator. They hadn’t had sex, but he’d gotten an eyeful between the twenty-second floor and the lobby.
Definitely not nice-boyfriend material.
The idea of taking Sara up against the wall of a toilet stall didn’t sound appealing. Sara was too good for that. But she would remind him of that and it would be a moot point.
“Okay.”
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Just My Type
Belatedly he recalled the tattoo parlor from the night before and the way she’d stripped her bikini top off without a second thought.
She started in the direction of the ladies’ room and then turned to look over her shoulder. She slid the strap of her dress down and as she stepped into the enclosed hallway the dress slipped down off of her left breast.
Mac went from hard to granite in less than a second. Dammit. This was already backfiring.
He tossed another twenty on the table, stalked over and grabbed her hand and headed out of the restaurant, swearing under his breath. He was obviously going to have to go a lot further to convince her she didn’t want a part of his games, his sex life, or his…life.
The sick feeling in his gut at that thought was probably because he was still hungry.
It was going to take an actual demonstration to give Sara a full picture of what she did
not
want for as long a they both should live.