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Before she could stop him, Mac launched forward and fisted Martin’s shirt. “Get the hell out of here.”
Mac shoved him back out onto the deck leading to the bungalow. Jenna knew enough about Mac to know this was not the time to step in. He was angry, he was taking charge and he wouldn’t want her to intervene, even if this situation was all about her.
Martin knocked Mac’s hands away and took another step back. “You’d rather take a shot with this criminal than give me a second chance?” Martin asked. “That’s not the Jenna I know.”
Normally, Jenna wouldn’t side with a guy who was so aggressive, but she knew Mac. This was for show. He was only going along with her request to make their relationship look authentic. Wasn’t he?
He wasn’t about to unleash his rage here. Surely not. Mac definitely had a temper, but since none of this was real, perhaps he’d keep himself in check.
“You need to go,” she told Martin.
Once again his eyes darted between her and Mac before settling on her. “I hope you come around before it’s too late. The rumors surrounding his family are enough—”
Mac punched Martin in the face, sending Martin’s head flying back. Martin stumbled as he reached up to feel his jaw. Jenna gasped, gripping the door. Clearly Mac’s restraint had snapped.
“He just proved my point,” Martin spat out before turning and stomping away. “This isn’t what you need, Jenna.”
Despite the heat, a shiver rippled through her. Mac had gone too far, in more ways than one. Her body still trembled from having his mouth and hands all over her. Their relationship had crossed the friendship line because there was no way she could erase that memory. Then he’d gone and assaulted Martin. Granted, Martin was goading Mac on purpose, but Mac had lost his temper...an O’Shea family trait.
The polar opposite personas of Mac had been revealed within a span of five minutes. How could he be two completely different people?
Unsure of what to say, Jenna remained silent and went back inside. Her eyes immediately landed on the table, on the cleared-off spot where Mac had set her. The man could make her totally forget all common sense. But seeing him become so angry had snapped her back to reality.
“Jenna—”
Keeping her back to the door, she held up her hand. “No. I don’t want your apology.”
“I wasn’t going to give you one,” Mac retorted. “I’m not sorry I hit him. Nobody insults my family and nobody disrespects you. That bastard did both.”
Something about the way he was so adamant about defending those he loved made him even more attractive. But still, she had to wonder just how far he planned on taking this charade, not to mention how often his anger got the better of him. She’d heard things, ugly things, but she’d never seen Mac get violent before.
Jenna spun around. “I asked you to play the part of my boyfriend. Maybe I should’ve made things clearer from the start.” Gathering up the flowers on the table, she carefully repackaged them, wondering when she would ever find a moment’s peace to actually do her sister’s wedding arrangements. “I didn’t want a fake fiancé, I didn’t want you to punch my ex and I didn’t want you to cross the boundaries of our friendship by kissing me.”
Mac remained still, eerily so, as he locked his eyes on hers. “The fiancé reference slipped out. I will apologize for saying that, but I’ll never apologize for hitting a man who cheated on you and put you second in his life. I’m not sorry he’ll be wearing my fist impression on his face.”
Now he moved closer, closing the gap between them in two strides. “Don’t look at me like that, Jenna. It’s still me. I’d never raise my hand to a woman. I protect what’s mine and no matter what’s going on here, fake or real, you’re mine.”
Jenna’s breath caught.
“And I sure as hell will not apologize for kissing you,” he went on. “You didn’t say no. Far from it. I’ve wanted to for years and I plan on doing it again. This week, Jenna, you belong to me as more than my friend. You started this and I’m finishing it.”
He glanced down to the watch on his wrist. “Better shower up. We have a double date in an hour.”
With that, he stalked out the back door to the hammock and relaxed as if he didn’t have a care in the world, as if he was oblivious to the turmoil that raged within her. He’d delivered that emotionally packed speech, got her hormones good and jumbled then just turned to leave?
