My hand tightened around the cool metal of my key chain, and I forced my attention elsewhere.
After a thorough once-over of my surroundings, I didn’t see Mac anywhere.
I felt equal parts relieved and disappointed. No, that was a lie. One emotion had a clear lead, and I didn’t want to examine that too closely.
I made my way over to the coolers and grabbed an IPA. I popped the top on the side of the picnic table, and when I looked up, I nearly dropped the bottle in my hand. Mac was standing there in a low-cut green sweater dress over black tights, rooting through the cooler across from me. I stared in surprise, unsure how I’d missed her when I’d been looking so hard earlier.
She straightened with a bottle of water, and I wondered at her selection. Was she taking it easy because she’d gotten so drunk last week?
And why was she all dressed up? Mac’s typical bonfire attire was casual—jeans and a flannel. I swallowed hard as I fought the instinct to check out her hemline, but she’d obviously made an extra effort tonight. Her hair looked soft and so did that dress. I couldn’t help but wonder who she was trying to impress. Not that it was any of my business. And yet?—
“What?” she said, after I’d been staring too long.
“Nothing,” I practically barked before making my voice nice and even. You know, like a normal person. “How are you?”
I was waiting for her to say something about the other night. Maybe for her to issue a threat to keep my mouth shut about what she’d said—how much she’d revealed about her frustrations and her fears and her family. But it never came. She just kept watching me.
Eventually, she murmured, “I’m fine.”
Mac’s jacket was open over her dress, and my eyes dipped briefly to her cleavage before meeting her still-suspicious gaze.
An awkward silence descended while I made a conscious effort not to look at her in case my gaze drifted to her chest again because—holy shit—that dress looked really good on her. Of course, I’d noticed her breasts before. I was a heterosexual male. Mac was hot, but she was also a pain. I didn’t want her to stab me for checking her out, so I typically kept my eyes to myself ... for the most part.
“What’s going on with you?” she asked warily. “You’re being all squirrelly.”
I forced myself to stare at her face and only her face. “Nothing. No, I’m not.”
God, this was a disaster. Clearly she did not remember our conversation last week. She would have brought it up by now. I could just be normal. No, not normal. Normal led to teasing and then fighting. I didn’t want things to devolve, and I didn’t want to hurt Mac anymore.
“Did you share another wanted poster? Maybe take out an ad in theKirby Falls Chronicle?” she accused.
I thought about the illustration still up on my fridge and cleared my throat. “No—no, I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”
I could do this. I was determined to be nice to her, not rile her up or make her react. I didn’t want that on my conscience. Even if I sounded like a stammering fool, I wouldn’t be mean. I would be playful and funny. Laid-back and nice. Nothing hurtful. I would not tease her about dressing up for all us lowly peasants. I would not suggest she take an available seat on my lap. Jesus, I was a dick.
Her stormy gray eyes narrowed. “Did you let the air out of my tires?”
“No, that was you, senior year,” I snapped, already ruining my attempt at nice.Shit.
I took a deep inhale to center myself, and that reminded me of the way Mac had been breathing last Friday.
“I did not prank, accost, demean, or defile you in any way,” I clarified, and then mentally backtracked to noticing her nipples in that sweater dress and winced.
“I’m keeping my eye on you, Judd.”
I grinned and saluted, aiming for charming and missing by a football field.
Mac raised a haughty brow and took her bottle of water back over to the bonfire to join her cousin.
I practically sagged against the cooler.
This was only weird and uncomfortable because we had so much history. Decades of learned behavior.
But I could change. I would.
Just treat her like you would anyone in town, I practically yelled at my racing mind.
She’s not like everyone else, it whispered back.
