He contemplated her for a minute, then sighed. “You’re right.”
Relief flooded through her.
But he continued, “It’s too warm in here.”
His eyes dropped down to her pointed nipples, his amusement evident. She fought every instinct not to cross her arms.
“Let’s take this to the porch.”
He grabbed both bottles with one hand and approached her, which had her ramming herself back against the jamb of his bedroom. Reaching out in the slight space between them, he ran a finger along the bared skin at her abdomen, skirting the top of her shorts, causing her to suck in a staccato breath. Hooking his finger at the button, he jerked her forward; her eyes widened.
“I get that you’re pissed. I get that you’re hurt. I know I’m the reason. I’m not making excuses here, Day. I want you to hear me out.”
Cassidy stared up at him, struggling to maintain a normal breathing pattern, trying not to let her internal quaking show. He was so close his breath brushed her face as he spoke. She could smell his cologne, him. His finger dipped into her pants, and her skin burned; she ached for him to slide his fingers downward. If he pressed her resolve, she would fold like a house of cards in a tornado.
Wrong!It was wrong, her reaction to him, his power over her.
“Fine,” she snapped out. She needed him to back off, move away, to give her space to breathe and think, her body to cool. Placing her hands on his chest, she shoved him back.
He chuckled, releasing the band of her jeans and ducking back when she threw an elbow his way as she stalked toward the door. She slammed it open with the palm of her hand and walked out.
Cassidy went to the railing and sat on it, thinking it was the strategic place to perch. The stairs, well, she remembered what had happened on his stairs. At least if she sat on his railing, if he tried anything, she’d go over the back. So, she tucked herself next to the pole, bracing her back against it as she raised another leg on the railing, making it clear he wasn’t sitting next to her.
Mac walked by her and dangled a beer in front of her face, held at the level of his crotch. She glared up at him as she snatched it away from him. With another chuckle, he went to his hammock, but instead of lounging on it, he sat on it, rocking slightly as he faced her, beer held loosely in his hands between his legs.
He got right to it. “Met Josie in boot camp.”
Cassidy frowned. “Wait, no. You said that night. Why are you going back—?”
“It all starts with Josie,” Mac said sadly, watching her.
Cassidy dropped her gaze, took a sip of the beer, then raised her eyes to him again. Of course, she was curious.
He continued, “She came to visit Jason when we were in boot camp. So to answer that question, Jason and I were in boot camp together. She was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. Imagine Jason as a girl—not hard, really.” Cassidy couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. There was no denying Jason was a beautiful man. “Blond, blue-eyed, sweet, innocent, impressionable; plus, of course, she had an immediate crush on me.”
Cassidy snorted.
Mac smiled. “Hell, I was a kid. Pretty girl like that crushing on me, it was like winning the lottery. I wasn’tmeback then. I was a good, respectful kid whose accomplishments were a decent knack for computers and being good with animals. Had thought about becoming a vet… A different kind of vet,” he added wryly. “But it was expensive, veterinary school. So,” he shrugged, “I joined the Army.
“And I met Josie. Fell hard for her—like, sonnet-type hard. Jason told me he’d break my balls if I touched her, but I think he liked the idea of us getting together. We took it slow, though, Joss and I. I mean, I didn’t know how else to do it. Even bought aDating for Dummiesbook because I was so out of my element. I didn’t want to fuck up, you know? She was my first real girlfriend.
“Dating; a relationship,” he clarified. “I knew how to fuck.”
She smirked. “Thanks for clearing that up.”
“Important distinction.” He smiled with a wink that had her heart tripping. “Anyway, we went from dating into a relationship; boyfriend-girlfriend, the whole thing. Got deployed, and she stuck in there with me. Letters, phone calls; it felt good to have this pretty thing hanging on my every word, knowing she was back home, thinking about me,caring. On leave, Jason and I went to visit his family. I’d pop up to New York, see my mom, but head right back down to DC to be near Josie. She was always there, waiting for me, never faltering. I put a ring on it—damn straight I did—saw a future and family with her, our pretty babies… She’d have been an awesome mom.”
They exchanged a pained look; his full of apology while she strived not to feel the pain of his words. He continued when she could no longer hold eye contact.
“In spite of the asshole I was sometimes after coming home, she adapted,” he said, a wistfulness entering his tone. “She was fluid like that, could take whatever I threw at her, and she made it better; made me better. And when I stopped being an asshole, I’d hold her when she broke down and cried over the stress of it. Fucking hated seeing her cry, knowing I was doing that to her. We were a unit, holding each other up when we needed it. I still knew how to step up when I needed to, back then.”
Cassidy had seen that part of him, the caring part that would slip through that he hadn’t been able to hide. She assumed it was the part of him Jason had said he was trying to kill, the part that left him vulnerable to someone else. But he still stepped up—he had for her, at least. More than once: at the boathouse after she’d emerged from her depression, at the bar when David had come after her, when she was falling apart by the side of the road, on the anniversaries of Elijah and Blake’s deaths… Did he not realize that?
“Then we hit the IED.” Mac paused and played with his beer bottle. “Went home to her a fucking mess.” He raised the bottle and took a long drink. When he lowered it, he tossed Cassidy a look. “She hung in there. My injuries freaked her out, and she’d cry and get squeamish and sometimes gag… Some days she’d just rant. I couldn’t blame her, it was disgusting, and now she was stuck with a man who looked like a catastrophe from the back, but she was in it for the long haul.”
Cassidy frowned. No, she hadn’t seen his injuries in the immediate aftermath, but if Elijah had come home with some horrific injury, she couldn’t imagine anything could be so off-putting to her it would overpower her love for the man. And if it did bother her, she’d never add to his misery by letting him know.
But that was her and Elijah. All she knew was Mac’s scars weren’t repulsive to her. It was a testimony of his strength; it said he was a warrior and a survivor, and there wasn’t anything disgusting in that.