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So, while her lips may still be tingling from their earlier encounter, she had to ignore the urge to take what he so eagerly offered.
Mac’s heavy footsteps hit the wood deck. “Here you go.”
After handing her a glass of iced tea, peach she guessed from the scent, he walked to the edge of the deck and took a seat. With the huts and decks built right on the water, his feet rested in the crystal-clear ocean. His black T-shirt pulled across his broad shoulders. His dark, unruly hair curled just slightly on the ends. Jenna didn’t care that she was checking out her best friend. She’d done it for years, and the older he got, the sexier Mac O’Shea became. This combination ocean/hottie view was definitely one she would be enjoying all week.
“So, tell me what’s on the agenda for tomorrow.” He threw a glance over his shoulder, offering her an evil, lopsided grin. “Kissing on the beach, you unable to keep your hands off me, frolicking in the ocean?”
Jenna took a hearty drink of her iced tea and rolled her eyes. “I think we’ll stick with hand holding, a few hugs and some lingering glances. Can you handle that?”
With a shrug, he turned back to the ocean. “I can handle anything. I’m in Bora Bora with my best friend and I have everything under control with the upcoming auction. I could use a few days to rest up, even if I’m pretending to be in love.”
A sliver of guilt started to course through her. “I know I’m putting you in a weird position, so if you want to back out, do it now before we get too far.”
Mac turned, rested his back against one of the posts and drew one knee up as he met her gaze. “Jenna, I came here for you. If you need me to hold your hand, literally, to get through this next week, that’s what I’m going to do. Stop worrying about my feelings or whatever else is going through that head of yours.”
She sat up in her lounge chair and swiveled her legs to the side. Clutching her glass, she watched the drops of condensation slide down it, disappearing beneath the pads of her fingers. Worry gnawed at her and she knew she could be totally honest with Mac about her deepest concern.
“I don’t want things to get awkward between us.”
“Then stop analyzing it to death,” he commanded. “We’ll be fine. The ex will think you’ve moved on, your sister’s wedding will be over and done, and you’ll be back in Miami by next week.”
In theory everything sounded so perfect and easy. Reality always had other plans, though.
Jenna took another drink before looking over to Mac, who was still staring at her. “Do you want something to eat? The resort actually stocked our kitchen. I don’t even want to know what Amy paid for all of this.”
Mac shook his head. “Nah. I was joking earlier. I’m too tired to eat, anyway. That whirlwind trip to Barcelona wiped me out.”
“I’m sure the lovely Lolita you left behind with a smile would take that as a compliment.”
Mac pulled his other foot from the water and hopped to his feet. “Lolita was nowhere to be found,” he retorted as he took a seat beside her on the lounge chair. “The trip was all business. I didn’t see one naked woman the entire time.”
Gasping, Jenna mocked him. “No wonder you’re so cranky. And here I’m putting a damper on your social life because you have to pretend to be taken.”
“We don’t have to pretend,” he replied with raised brows. “Say the word and we’ll make use of this lounge chair.”
Jenna sprang to her feet and headed toward the open doorway. “Chill out, stud. I have enough to handle without feeding your overactive hormones.”
Mac followed her into the hut. Jenna rinsed her empty glass and just as she went to set it on the counter, it slipped from her hands and shattered all over the ceramic tile.
Cursing beneath her breath, she glanced down, trying to figure out how to get out of the mess without cutting her bare feet.
“Don’t move.”
Mac stepped carefully around the shards and seconds later lifted her into his arms.
“Put me down. I’m heavy.”
Halting his steps, Mac met her gaze, his face mere inches above hers. “You’re not heavy, Jenna. You’re perfect. I won’t want to hear that from your mouth again.”
Closing her eyes, praying for the humiliation to pass, Jenna sighed. “Just put me down. I’ll put some shoes on and get this mess cleaned up.”
“I can get it.”
“You’re going to cut yourself,” she argued, though the point was moot now.
