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His Jenna had hopes and dreams, and he was riding a fine line of destroying everything. He knew she was getting attached. He could feel it in her touch, taste the emotion in her kisses.
“Amy and I had no clue how to help my mom,” she went on, staring out into the night as if she were watching the events unfold before her. “She rarely got out of bed. When she did, it was to get a drink. Finally she started keeping the bottles by her bed. Amy would fix my hair for school and make sure to hold my hand as we went to the bus stop. Amy and I were pretty good at covering up the lack of parenting at our house until it came time for report cards and Amy forged my mom’s signature.”
Mac could easily see these two sisters looking after each other, and worrying for their mother who had been slapped in the face by fate’s harsh hand.
“Long story short, our neighbors, who had kids our age, ended up taking us in while mom went to rehab.” Jenna shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “We don’t talk about that time because it was so dark, so depressing and that’s not who my mother is.”
“That’s why one glass of wine has you stumbling.”
Jenna nodded. “I’ll have a glass of wine every now and then, but I saw how it nearly destroyed my mother. I saw how falling for the wrong man crippled her to the point I didn’t recognize her anymore.”
And that’s why she was fighting this attraction. Everything fell into place now. He’d vowed before not to touch her when he didn’t have to, but now Mac knew he needed to be hands off unless they were in public and trying to keep up this charade.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, Mac moved to the hammock and eased down. Flipping his feet up, he reclined, lacing his hands behind his head.
“Go on to bed, Jenna. We’ve had a long day.”
Silence filled the space, but she didn’t move. He was hanging on by a thread here. As if he weren’t physically attracted enough, now she went and threw vulnerability into the mix. He couldn’t handle knowing she was hurting, but he only knew one way to console her. Having sex with her would be a temporary moment of happiness and once they were done, she’d hate him and he couldn’t live with that.
Having Jenna hurt at his hands wasn’t an option. This could never be just a fling for her and he should’ve accepted that from the beginning. Or, maybe in the back of his mind he had realized it, but didn’t want to face the truth staring him in the face.
“Thank you for coming back,” she murmured. “I thought you’d leave the island.”
“I promised I’d be here for you, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but things are more intense than either of us intended.”
Understatement of the year. And he was seriously rethinking his entire strategy.
“I’m sorry I hurt you earlier,” she went on. “I’m not good at lying to people I love.”
“A few more days and this will all be over.”
“Will it?” she asked. “Because I’m not sure I can forget how you kissed me, how you’ve held me, touched me.”
Shutting his eyes, he gritted his teeth and attempted to dig deep for willpower. If she’d told him this before her confession about her father, he would have been all over her. But now he knew why she was so leery and he knew he had to take a step back...even if it killed him.
“Can you forget?” she whispered.
“Leave it, Jenna. Go to bed.”
“Where will you be?”
“Right here.”
The second he heard her cross the deck, he froze. He opened his eyes to see her standing next to him, her gaze on his.
“You don’t have to stay out here,” she told him, her voice huskier than seconds ago. “Maybe I’m ready to give in. Maybe I’m ready to stop being so damn good all the time and holding out for the perfect man in my life.”
“It’s the wine,” he told her. “In the morning you’ll feel different.”
He pulled his hands from behind his head and laid them on his abdomen. Those hands had done some ugly things, too many to even count, and he didn’t deserve to have them on her body. He didn’t deserve what she willingly offered.
“What if I don’t feel different, Mac?” she asked. Those eyes of hers remained locked on to his and it was all he could do not to jerk her down on top of him and finish what she’d started.
“Go to bed, Jenna. Alone.”
“Mac—”
“Damn it,” he yelled, hating when she jumped. “You have no idea what you’re saying. I don’t do relationships, I do sex. That’s it. I don’t want more and I won’t give more. We’re friends. I shouldn’t have taken it so far when we were alone, but you do things to me. I lost my head for a bit. I promise it won’t happen again.”
