A Place to Call Home (8 page)

“Okay.” Sandy turned to Hannah. “We’ll have to get together for coffee some time. I could show you around town.”

“That’s nice of you,” Hannah said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mac complained, waving his hand in front of him. “You can reach her at the old Brigman house. Now, Hannah, let’s go or you’ll walk to get your car. Sandy, bye.”

While Mac drove to the mechanic, Hannah turned to him and said, “Isn’t she just the sweetest thing?”

“She is. Sandy is a very wholesome lady.”

“She’s got you elevated so high in the sky with your hero status I’m surprised you don’t have a nose bleed.”

Mac glanced at her then back to the road. “Do you want to walk to the mechanic?”

“You wouldn’t do that, you ape, but nice try.”

He shot her a devious look. “So tell me about the Hannah who has grown into a very beautiful woman.”

Oh, he was a charmer. “I’m done talking about me. Talk about you.”

“Tell me the damn story, Hannah.”

“You’re so bossy, you know that?”

“My kids tell me all the time. Now talk. How’d you get into the restaurant biz?”

She sighed, knowing he’d just keep at her. It’d be nice to brag a little about her accomplishments. “I was on my own at fifteen. Worked at a grocery store as much as they allowed me. Put myself through school. Had rented a room in a rundown house that smelled of bad food and had lots of crawly things. Yuck.” She shivered. “I can’t even think about what it was like but I had no choice. I stuck it out until I graduated high school then got a full-time job in a restaurant and moved to a better boarding house. At least it didn’t have crawly things.”

Mac stopped at a red light and looked at her. “That’s how you got into the restaurant business?”

“Yeah, sort of. I took a chef course while I worked in a five-star restaurant. I worked every shift I could, morning, afternoon, nights. People always came in looking for breakfast, no matter what time of day or night it was. So I got the idea that there was a market for such a restaurant that catered to brunch/breakfast only. I would stay late at the restaurant and taught myself to cook. I opened my first restaurant in Boston and never looked back.”

 “Ahh. Boston. So that’s where you’re from.” He drove into the mechanic’s lot. “You never did tell me. Now I recognize the accent.”

She sat stunned at how perceptive he could be. Men usually never paid enough attention to her to pick up on the little things about her like an accent. What a nice change. “You paid attention. Not used to men paying attention to me.”

“Now that I find hard to believe with your looks. In case you haven’t looked in a mirror lately, you’re a complete knockout, Hannah.”

“Yeah,” she said sadly, reaching for the door. “It’s always the looks they notice and nothing else.” Like her brains, strengths, feelings.

“Men are single-minded creatures by nature, but some of us are a little more advanced. I happen to be one of those men and can tell you that for a woman you have more guts and brains than most men I know. Don’t hide from your past, Hannah. It’s what made you what you are today.”

“Which is what?” she asked softly.

He stared before offering a sincere smile. “I’d say one hell of a woman. Go see the mechanic. I’m running late for my next job. Talk to you later.”

Mac drove off and she couldn’t help but smile at the little flip her heart did. He was the first man to comment on something other than her boobs and he showed sincerity about it too. Who would’ve guessed?

Yeah
, she reflected.
My past is what made me the way I am today. But I’ll never live that kind of life again.
I’m a survivor. So what if I don’t have a permanent address to call home?

She’d grown accustomed to keeping on the move. It had never bothered her, so why should it bother her now? Probably because the MacDevin family had showed her what it meant to have a real home and she wanted that. Didn’t she?

She walked toward the mechanic’s building. Her heart thumped with a small ache and she rubbed the center of her chest with her fist. A knot formed in her throat, making it hard to swallow. And her mind wandered to what she could never have but craved so much. Admitting her desires for a family and home would only lead to more disappointment, so she did what she did best-buried her feelings-and held her chin up. But yeah, she had to admit, it really did bother her to have no place to call home.

Chapter Nine

Mac shook his throbbing hand and cursed. He hadn’t hit his thumb with a hammer in years. His focus wouldn’t let that occur. But, of course, he didn’t have to look far for the distraction that caused the injury.

Hannah O’Leary. The redheaded, hot-tempered, sexy, brilliant, fascinating woman.

How foolish was he to still be thinking about Hannah two hours after he’d left her? Christ, had the little witch put a hex on him or something? Never had a woman’s face remained stuck in his mind every waking and sleeping hour like Hannah’s had.

Why did there have to be more to her than met the eye? Why couldn’t he just admire her sexy body and fantasize about taking her to bed? Why couldn’t he just imagine her naked and straddling him, riding his cock until he exploded deep inside her? No, instead he had to pry into her past and hear a compelling story of survival that earned his respect and admiration. And he knew she had hardly told him the whole story. He could only imagine what her life had been like if she lived on her own at fifteen. Christ, that was just a year younger than Aidan.

He hit the same thumb again.

“Good, God!” he yelled and threw the hammer.

Mac gave up hammering the nail the old fashion way to repair the stairs at Mr. Loyal’s house. What the old geezer didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Mac stalked to his truck and grabbed his nail gun. Mr. Loyal may have requested the nails be hammered but, with his thumb throbbing and his dick rigid with thoughts of Hannah, Mac used the nail gun.

After finally finishing the stairs, Mac drove to his next job at Mrs. Henderson’s to install her new washer and dryer.

Mac still pondered Hannah’s reaction toward him. Why wasn’t she falling all over him like every other damn woman in town? He shook his head. But hadn’t that always irked him, how women played cutesy with him, thinking only of getting him into bed and claiming him as a boyfriend? Of course, his mother had raised him to be a gentleman and his manners wouldn’t allow him to be outright rude, so he’d played the game and given compliments when he’d received them.

But not with Hannah.

No. She’d shown hardly any interest in him whatsoever. Instead, she’d argued with him, stood up to him, ignored his demands and had been outright hostile half the time.

He grinned. And he’d loved it, hadn’t he? Like a breath of fresh air. She was more interesting than any woman he’d ever met—and he’d decided that before he’d known her background. Now she’d become so much more in his opinion—a strong woman who’d overcome every obstacle sent her way. And so young too. How old was she? Mid-twenties? Hell, he felt ancient at thirty-eight, and while he had his own troubled past, he hadn’t been out on the street at fifteen.

He wanted to know everything about her. He’d never much cared about knowing more than what a woman liked in bed. Hannah was different and it irked him that he didn’t know why.

Mac arrived at Mrs. Henderson’s, grabbed his tools, and proceeded to her basement. Why the hell was he rushing? He was ahead of schedule for once. But while unloading the new appliances, Mac figured out the answer.

Hannah O’Leary.

He was friggin’ rushing to get to her house to install her locks and alarm. And not because he worried about Hannah living there by herself. But because he wanted to see her. God, what a desperate fool! She would no doubt torture him one way or another before he left her again.

He smiled. He’d welcome that. He liked interesting.

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“What’s in this for you?” Hannah asked when Mac showed up late in the afternoon to install her new locks. Walking past her into the foyer, he smelled totally male, sweaty and hot. Delicious.

“Excuse me? Listen, Hannah, if you want to insult me, fine, but get the hell out of my way while you do it. This is my last job today and I’m beat. I’d like to get home.”

“I told you that you didn’t have to do this.” With her arms folded, she leaned over him.

“Are you always this stubborn?” he demanded.

When he turned and shot those blue daggers, she swallowed hard, not missing the dangerous glint hidden in the depths. It did nothing to scare her…but everything to excite her inner vixen. “I’m not stubborn.”

“No. You’re difficult.”

 “I am not,” she argued. The slight brush of his body against hers thrilled her while he set up his workspace.

“Then hush, move out of my way, and let me fix these damn locks so you can be safe tonight.” His voice grew edgy.

“And then you don’t have to worry about me?”

He sent her a withering look. “Yeah, so I don’t have to worry.”

“Ahhh, so you worry about me. Isn’t that interesting.”

A sound like a growl escaped him. “Nothing interesting about it. I’m a decent man, even if you don’t want to believe that. I don’t think you should be here by yourself without a functioning lock.”

“I do believe you’re decent.” Walking toward the kitchen, she said over her shoulder, “Face it. You care about me.”

A few minutes later she returned with a can of cold soda. Feeling confident about her assessment of him, she smiled and held it out. While Mac gulped the contents, Hannah perched on the stairs to observe him work.

“Don’t do that,” he said after a few minutes.

“Do what?” Leaning back on her elbows, Hannah watched his magnificent body flex while he stripped the small metal plate from the wood.

“Stare at me when I work. It’s like someone reading over your shoulder. Drives me nuts.”

“Does it now?” She didn’t budge, taking pleasure in making him squirm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He sighed. “Fine. Get over here.”

“Why?”

“Because if you’re gonna sit and stare at me you might as well help.”

“Okay.” She sauntered to him. “Want me to show you how to use a screwdriver?”

He sent her a cocky look. “Funny. You’re not touching my tools, darlin’. You’d probably break them or injure yourself.”

“Funny,” she repeated. “Maybe if I touch your tools you’d have a better attitude.” Teasing and flirting was new to her, but she so enjoyed it with Mac. The way his eyes clouded with lust and his jaw tightened, fighting whatever desires she ignited. Hannah might not have had much sexual experience, but she knew when she aroused a man.

“Hold this.” His short demand only confirmed the effect she had on him.

“Hold it yourself.” She turned to walk away.

Mac grabbed her arm and placed her hand onto the doorframe. “I said hold it.” He removed his hands and got a screw gun from his tool chest. “Okay. Hold still.”

She complied.

“Now let go.”

She did. Then she pinched his arm. Hard.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?” His hand rubbed the spot.

With her hands propped on her hips, and her neck angled up to glare, she said, “That was for thinking you can just physically place me anywhere you want. I’m warning you, Austin. Keep your hands to yourself.”

He grinned.

“I’m not laughing. I’m serious,” she said in a firm voice.

He continued working. “Do you know you use my real name when you get pissed at me? It’s just so full of emotion when you do. Here. Come over here and hold this.”

Hannah didn’t budge. Didn’t he get it?

He glanced up to the ceiling then back. “
Please
hold this.”

“Fine,” she said and stalked back over.

After working together quietly for a while, Mac paused, his gaze scanning her face.

“So you think I’m doing this to get into your pants do you?”

With his embarrassing and to-the-point question, shock rattled through Hannah. “I didn’t say that.”

“No.” He glanced back. “But you certainly implied it when I arrived. Come on. Back door needs to be done.” He handed her a small box. “Here. Carry this.” He turned to her when she didn’t budge and rolled his eyes. “Please.”

She took the toolbox, surprised by its heaviness for such a small thing. He gathered the drill and other tools. They walked through the house to the back door.

“I didn’t mean to imply that,” she said quietly.

His hands quickly unscrewed the old lock. “What? The part about me trying to get into your pants?”

“Yes. That part,” she said, her cheeks blazing.

“Okay. But what other way was there to take it?”

She remained quiet for a moment.

He studied her. “Need you to hold this now.”

When he gently placed her hand onto the striker plate, she held it for him. He screwed the part in place.

When he finished, she crossed her arms. Was she over reacting to his generosity? He hasn’t given her the impression that he would expect sexual favors for his work. Her cheeks flamed hotter, her embarrassment flowing freely through her. “I’m sorry, Mac. You’re right. I did imply you’re only doing this for some reason other than just to help me.”

“Praise the Lord, the sky is going to fall,” he hollered but smiled. “Did you just say I was right?”

“Oh, shut up,” she said. With a laugh, she swatted him.

His grin widened. “Say it again.”

“No.”

“Come on. Just once.” His sexy voice registered barely a whisper.

“Would you please zip it?” Smiling so much would give her damn wrinkles. But for such a great feeling she didn’t care.

He laughed. “So tell me about the guy.”

She whirled around, surprised by his knowledge of privy information. “What guy?”

“The guy who screwed you over to make you hate all men.”

“I don’t hate all men.” How did he read her so well?

He didn’t look up but dug through his toolbox while he spoke. “You certainly don’t trust men either. Given your past with your father that’s understandable, but tell me about the guy.”

“What makes you sure there’s a guy? You just said my past is enough to make me not trust men.”

He didn’t respond, just worked. She couldn’t say why, but she felt compelled to talk. He was just a good listener she told herself nothing more.

“I was taken advantage of by a conman.” Hannah sighed, hating to admit it out loud. “My first restaurant was a hit. I hired a manager while I prepared to open another restaurant. We became romantically involved then he took advantage of my trusting nature and robbed me while I was busy with the new restaurant. Every time I caught on to something, he played me like the young fool I was since I badly wanted him to stay in my life. I’d gotten used to having someone around and was lonely.” Unable to sit still, she paced and continued her story. “Then when the restaurant failed to meet payroll, I had to face the facts. I never imagined exactly how badly he’d robbed me.”
And how close he had jeopardized all I had worked for
. “He even sweet-talked me with the thought of marriage someday. Me, married. That was something to think about since I never considered the possibility that someone would want to marry me.”

Mac glared, his gaze burning into her.

“What?” she asked, surprised by his anger.

“You don’t think much of yourself, do you?”

“I do.” No she didn’t.

“Yeah, it shows,” he said sarcastically and changed tools. “So go on. What happened to him?” Mac screwed the lock into place.

“Criminal embezzlement charges were filed against him and I haven’t trusted anyone since.”

Mac stared at her. “I’m going to start installing the alarm system. I need to get upstairs. I’ll put this alarm outside your bedroom door so you’ll hear it. It’s very loud, but I want it as close to you as possible when you sleep.”