Winning Love Page 8

  “Told you it was fun,” she whispered, her smile fading just a bit as she sat up and faced away from him.

  Mac blinked at the back of her head. She’d seen his struggle, and that made him feel even worse. None of this was her fault. Gayle was beautiful, fun, and charismatic. If he’d been whole, he wouldn’t have hesitated with her. But he wasn’t, he was broken…ruined.

  Needing to get this out of Mac-is-damaged-goods territory and back into funland, he shoved to his feet and held his hand out to her. “Let’s try this again. But this time without you being the bowling ball and me the pins.”

  Laughing, she slipped her hand into his, and he tugged her up. “I make no promises, handsome.”

  Seeing she was game for letting the awkwardness pass, he exhaled in relief, and they started their second attempt. After the fourth wipeout—all of which were caused by Gayle—the earlier moment was a forgotten memory as Mac heaved to his feet and beat his palm across the fingertips of his other hand, making the universal sign for timeout. “That’s it! Timeout!”

  At his outburst, Gayle’s eyes rounded and she blew air into her cheek, making them puff out. The sight immediately alleviated his frustration, and he chuckled. He wasn’t frustrated at Gayle, just the damn hill. Thankfully, they weren’t the only ones having issues. Though each time someone finally made it to the top he cursed them to hell.

  “I am going up this thing and I’m taking you with me.”

  He’d wanted to do this two wipeouts ago, but she didn’t seem bothered by the slip-and-slide routine so he’d kept his mouth shut. If he took one more trip down this hill, though, he would lose his shit. Locking one hand around her wrist, he started the tedious climb up, dragging her behind him. Every time she lost her footing, he threw his weight forward and tugged her arm to keep the momentum from taking him down. The climb was slow, but finally he made it to within a foot of the top. He braced his body and pulled her up beside him.

  “You first,” he said.

  As she crawled over the lip to flat land, he kept his hand out to shove her over the crest if she slipped. Once she reached the top, he climbed up beside her, and they stood. She immediately lost her footing. Instinctively he snatched her around the waist and yanked her to his body to keep her from making the longest trip yet down that hill. The second the warmth of her hands met his biceps, it registered he was holding Gayle.

  Covered in mud, laughing. In his arms.

  Life beckoned him.

  He pressed his mouth to hers.

  Immediately she stilled, her lips softening under his. He liked the way they fit together, liked the tightening of his body. Wanted to embrace it. Deepen it. Just as he was about to cup the back of her head and do just that, a passing runner gave a wolf whistle and Gayle pulled away, studying him…intently.

  The reality of what he’d done slammed into him. Holy shit. He’d kissed Gayle. Without thought. Though it hadn’t been the best first kiss—brief, unexpected—he felt the gravity of this moment to his core. As he stared at her, he brushed his fingers across his lips and swallowed. Gayle made him be in the moment and not remember the failures of his past. Nothing but fighting had done that for him in years. It scared the fucking shit out of him, but he wanted so desperately to grab it at the same time.

  Her gaze softening, she squeezed his bicep, a small smile curving her mouth. She simply said, “Okay,” then turned and half-slipped half-ran down the mud path.

  He wasn’t sure what she’d meant by that, but the hushed, reassuring way she’d said the word eased the pressure of the moment, allowed them to continue. And he did.

  Obstacle after obstacle came at them after that. They climbed a rope net, crawled through tunnels, and waded through waist-deep mud. When they reached an extremely high rock-climbing wall, there wasn’t an inch of their bodies that wasn’t caked with mud, which made keeping a grip difficult.

  As they climbed side-by-side, Gayle’s foot slipped, and she fell. The whack of her arm hitting one of the hand grips made Mac hiss. He looked down in time to see her hit the ground with enough momentum to roll backward. Shit. Worry twisting his stomach, he jumped down and hurried to her side just as she was pushing to her feet.

  “You okay?” he asked, scanning her body for any injuries, unnerved by the fear tightening his chest and making it difficult to breathe.

  “Wouldn’t be a mud race if I didn’t fall off the rock wall.” Her chuckle and smile made him shake his head at his knee-jerk reaction. “This one always gives me trouble.”

  She’s fine. Chill the fuck out.

  “Oh, we’ve got this.” Brushing aside the weird moment, Mac scaled the wall and straddled the top. He reached a hand down. Gayle blinked up at him. He wiggled his fingers at hers and she hesitantly slid her hand in his. As he hauled her up with ease, she squealed. He didn’t let her go until he knew she was safely anchored to the top. She turned wide eyes on him. “Holy shit. Did you really just do that?”

  Then her gaze swept over his bicep and an appreciative noise passed those sweet lips. “Rick’s fired. You’re so my new mud buddy. He’d never have been able to just lift me up like that.”

  Then she slid down the pole on the other side and landed on the ground.

  As he followed her down, the appreciative noise she made rang in his head and plummeted to his groin, making him lose coherent thought for a moment as he watched her muddied ass disappear over the hood of a car.

  He wanted her. No reason to fight that anymore. But the fear he’d felt for her safety just seconds ago lay heavy in his chest. Wanting her was one thing. Worrying about her was something else entirely, and it made him immediately want to put distance between them.

  Gayle jumped up from behind a car. “Don’t let me lose you now, handsome. Come on!”

  She had no idea there was more to the statement than lagging behind on the race. He was at a damn crossroads and he knew it. If he continued, he’d be starting a whole new chapter in life.

  Did he really want to? The future he had now was clear. No heartache. No attachments. No worry.

  No real life.

  If he allowed people in, then he opened himself up to all of that again. But he couldn’t pussyfoot around with Gayle anymore. He wanted her. It was time for him either to go all in and risk it all, or fold and play it safe.

  Both were tempting as hell.

  Gayle cocked her head to the side and watched Mac stand still. An odd expression twisted his handsome face. A mixture of confusion and pensiveness. She didn’t know what was going on in his head, but was wise enough to remain silent as he worked through whatever had triggered this one.

  The third one of the day.

  She had noticed each and every instant Mac began to struggle with whatever internal demon he was battling. After they had landed in a heap at the bottom of the mud hill, she’d sensed he’d wanted to kiss her. Then this heartbreaking distress had entered his eyes and she’d let him off the hook. After he actually had kissed her, she wasn’t sure who’d been more shocked, him or her, but her heart had expanded at the almost awe that widened his eyes. And right there, she’d made the decision that she could be patient. She’d didn’t know if whatever he was going through was a fresh wound or an old one, but he was struggling because he wanted her. And she did want him. Horribly.

  So, she’d give him the time to work through his issues. If anyone knew about having to do that, it was her. Hell, she knew some issues you never really got past, you just found a way to live around them. After she’d lost her longtime boyfriend and her family, it’d taken two more heartbreaks for her finally to find a way to cope with her abandonment issues. Why it had taken her so long to realize, was beyond her. The answer had been so simple. Still was.

  Leave before you get attached.

  The last two years had been the happiest and most heartbreak-free she’d had since the tragedy.

  Sam’s smiling face formed in her mind for a moment. His dark, unruly hair untamed as ever. His green eyes shini
ng with the love he’d had for her. So damn young. They’d never even gotten a chance to start the future they’d spent years talking about. Her heart squeezed hard once. She allowed her first love to dominate her thoughts for a brief moment, cherishing him even more for being the only man, besides her father, who had unwillingly left her. Then she tucked him carefully back into the past—where he belonged. The only future she had with Sam—or with the family she still desperately missed—was the scientific research she busted her ass to do so, hopefully, one day she could keep their fate from happening to anyone else.

  As she surfaced from her demons, she realized Mac still hadn’t moved. Racers passed by, giving him confused expressions. When they shot her a look, she sent them a smile, giving them permission to keep going without stopping.

  Come on, handsome. Pick the present. If I can do it, so can you.

  She understood the war all too well. Saw herself seven years ago reflected in Mac’s present inner battle. It was so much easier now to put the past away. Hadn’t always been like that—a lot of false starts and heartache had come first. If he was just starting down his road to healing, he had a long journey ahead.

  His body shook once. And then he started forward, climbed over the car, and stopped by her side. Even though he smiled down at her, the emotions didn’t quite reach his eyes. And there was a new stiffness to the set of his jaw. A sad determination.

  “Let’s finish this,” he held out his hand.

  Ah, well.

  Taking his offering, she squeezed as a burning stung the back of her eyes. This had been a very difficult decision for him. So many questions filled her, wanting to explode from her mouth, but she pushed them back. After her family died, she’d hated being asked questions, being put on the spot, while the person asking stared expectantly at her. She’d sworn she’d never do it to another human being. Maybe one day Mac would open up to her. Until then, she’d be what he needed.

  Someone to bring a little fun back into his life.

  That, she could do.

  She tugged her hand free, swatted him on the ass, and ran off. A chuckle followed her and she smiled. The distress of the moment had been broken, and they’d veered back onto the happy course. Mac fell into stride beside her. They came to an assortment of ropes hanging from a tree. People were using them to swing across a muddy water-filled pit.

  “Ladies first.”

  Mud caked her hands and the rope from the amount of people who had swung across before her. “We’re not making it across the water. You know that, right?”

  “Speak for yourself. You look like you could use a good bath, anyway.”

  She struck an attitude. “Oh, really? Is that a challenge?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  She eyed him. “Okay. Whoever makes it across without falling in gets to make the other do something.”

  “Like?”

  “Open game, handsome. The something can be issued anytime, anyplace, anywhere.”

  His gaze lit with something resembling mischief. “I like those conditions.”

  “We have a deal, then?”

  “Oh, yeah. We have a deal.”

  Without waiting, she jumped up, wrapped her legs around the rope, and held on. Halfway across, her grip slipped, but she tightened around the rope and landed safely on the other side. She gave a whoop of victory.

  She turned to see Mac holding another rope. He jumped up and immediately slipped off, splashing in the water below. He waded out, then climbed up beside her.

  “Hey! You let go on purpose,” she said in mock outrage.

  A wicked smile she’d never seen before lifted one corner of his mouth as a twinkle entered his eyes. “You’ll never know.”

  Then he was the one to take off.

  Stunned, she stared after him. A thrill shivered through her body. Whatever decision Mac had made earlier had released a side of him she couldn’t wait to get to know.

  She took off after him. They came out of the trees and she saw a billow of black smoke off in the distance. They must be close to the finish line. They hurdled over hay bales, jumped over a fire pit, then belly-crawled under barbwire through thick mud. Holding hands, they waddled their way across the finish line, laughing every time the other slipped. A volunteer handed them each a medal of completion. As they moved off to the side, Mac wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her toward him. The mud caking their bodies squished between them.

  The sincerity on his face made her breath catch.

  “Thank you,” was all he said.

  She wanted him to kiss her again, to pick up from that very brief but extremely electric kiss from earlier, but he released her and stepped back instead.

  “Now, where do we go to clean off?” he asked.

  “You won’t get clean clean, but they have hoses over there.” She pointed to an area where a group of people who’d gathered in a huge mudded area were being sprayed with water by volunteers. “It gets the worst off.”

  “Come on, then.” As he started off in that direction, he grabbed her hand.

  She let him tug her behind him, her heart fluttering. There was something extremely arousing about his large masculine hand swallowing her much smaller feminine one. Hell, mostly it was just the man. Despite all the baggage he carried, Mac had called to her sexual side the moment she’d bolted around the side of the house and soaked him with the water gun. It was taking a massive amount of restraint to keep from jumping the man. Had he been anyone else, she would’ve. But if she wanted Mac in her bed, she would have to let him take the lead and go at his own pace.

  They reached the group of runners, and Mac maneuvered them to the middle, then pulled her in front of him. Just because she had to take it slow didn’t mean she couldn’t egg it on a little, right? Get his mind going in the direction they both wanted it to go.

  One of the volunteers arched a hose up so the spray reached where they stood. Gayle faced Mac. Inches separated her breasts from his chiseled, mud-coated chest. Tilting her head back, she let the water sluice over her face and upper body, then ran her palm over her neck and chest. She lifted her head, and the air whooshed out of her lungs at the tight way Mac was watching her. Coiled. Ready to pounce.

  His gaze clashed with hers, and the heat there almost seared her to the spot. Yet he did not move. Just observed. Keeping their gaze connected, she let a saucy smile come to her lips and she continued to run her hands over the sides of her face, her neck, the tops of her shoulders, her arms, and the upper part of her chest. She kept her movement PG for those around her, but she had no doubt the thoughts going through Mac’s mind were anything but family oriented.

  When she had the worst of the mud off her, she bit the bullet and touched his cheek. He jerked but didn’t move away, so she took that as encouragement. She washed away the streaks of mud on his face and neck. The entire time his heated gaze stayed fused to hers as his arms stayed by his sides. Her nipples tightened.

  Something she’d thought to tease him with had taken a left turn straight to intense. When she finally got Mac where she wanted him—in her bed—he wouldn’t be skittish like he’d been since she met him. No, the man would be masterful. Dominating. Even when she thought she was the one in control, she wouldn’t be. He’d be.

  Sex with this man would be amazing.

  “I think you’re clean,” she said. He wasn’t. She hadn’t even touched his torso, but she couldn’t go there.

  “Really? I’d say I’m still pretty filthy.” He nodded down to his chest.

  The pointed look he gave her ensnared her. It was one of those moments where everything around her faded into the background. All she was aware of was the soulful brown eyes full of heat and promise directed at her, and the way he’d never, not once, during her entire show, taken his gaze off her—and it was too intimate.

  She stepped back first. “Nah, you’re clean.”

  A crooked smile came to his lips as he took her hand again and said, “Chicken,” then tugged her ou
t of the crowd.

  She winked. “Just didn’t want to get arrested.”

  Was it really that, or had she simply spent so many years being the aggressor, that she wasn’t sure what the hell to do as the aggressee?

  Her hands on his body had been so fucking hot.

  As Mac tugged his T-shirt over his head in the changing tent, he could still feel the warmth of her palms sliding down the sides of his neck. It was like the woman had branded him out there, and he’d wanted to buck and thrash with all the lust her searing touch had brought forth.

  God, he hadn’t felt like that in years.

  Consumed with raw lust.

  He’d let her see it, too. She’d needed to see it. He’d made the decision to go all in, which meant no more hesitation with her, and letting the attraction run free. Over the last few days, she’d watched him struggle. She needed to see there was a man underneath all the baggage. A man who wanted her and would take her.

  He’d gotten a little insight into Gayle from their encounter, as well. She’d read his intentions clearly, had backed off from his challenge. She was used to having the upper hand, probably felt in control of a situation when she was the one leading the reins. Join the club.

  They could prove a very interesting combination.

  He looked forward to seeing what that dynamic ignited between them.

  After he shoved his feet into a pair of flip-flops, he left the tent in search of her. He found her standing by the refreshment tents. She’d changed into a pair of denim shorts and a pink spaghetti-strap tank. She also wore a pair of matching flip-flops. Dried mud streaked her legs.

  She turned and their gazes connected. She smiled. “What is it about a man in camo?”

  He glanced down at his camouflage cargo shorts. “And here I thought it was the tat.”

  “Oh, the tat’s hot, too.” She ran her hand over his exposed bicep.

  Seemed she’d gathered her composure again and was trying to take back the upper hand. He’d let her…for now.