Maid for Love (5 page)

Opening the sliding screen door to the expansive back deck, Mac went outside. The McCarthys had one of the best views of any home on the island, stretching as it did from the town beach on the far right to McCarthy's to the two neighboring marinas, Gansett Boat Works and North Harbor Yacht Club. The other two were known for being far more expensive and exclusive than McCarthy's, which prided itself on a family-friendly atmosphere. At the other end of the big, round harbor, a coast guard station and lighthouse guarded the western entrance.

Even though it was mid-June, the brisk sea breeze still held a bit of chill that was a welcome relief from the stifling South Florida heat. Mac stood there for a long time pondering his eventful arrival on the island and the odd conversation with Ned. He cringed when he thought about Maddie and how badly he'd wanted to kiss her. She made him anxious, as if he was constantly on the verge of saying or doing the wrong thing. Since he wasn't used to being so uncomfortable around a woman, he would deal with it by not spending any more time than necessary with her. He couldn't forget his plan to get back to Miami as soon as possible.

The screen door at the front of the house slammed shut. Mac turned just as his sister Janey came bounding through the sliding door to the porch.

She let out a shriek and launched herself into Mac's arms.

Absorbing the blow, he took a step back to keep his balance, smiling at her enthusiastic greeting. As blonde and fair as he was dark, Janey was seven years younger, but they'd always been close.

Mac put her down and tugged on her sleek ponytail. "How goes it, brat?"

She play-punched him in the belly. "Don't call me that. I'm all grown up, or have you been gone so long you forgot that?"

"To me, you'll always be thirteen with braces. Are you driving yet?"

"Hardy har har. I'm even having sex, but don't tell Mom."

Mac feigned a heart attack. The idea of Janey having sex was
way
too much for him to handle, even if she was twenty-eight and engaged. "Spare me the gories, please."

Janey grinned. "If you think it's gory, maybe you're not doing it right."

"I'm
so
not having this conversation with you."

Laughing, she added, "As much and as often as we can."

Mac put his hands over his ears. "Lalalala. How's Dr. David?"

"Starting his internship at Beth Israel," she said with a sigh. "One more year." She punched Mac's shoulder this time. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"I didn't want Mom going crazy cooking and cleaning."

"She does go nuts when one of the prodigal sons comes home."

"That's because we're special."

"Speaking of special, what's this I hear about you carrying Maddie Chester all over town?"

Mac wasn't surprised that Janey already knew about it. "I knocked her off her bike and hurt her pretty badly. I was helping her home."

"Aww, you're so good. She must've thought she'd died and gone to heaven with hunky Mac McCarthy coming to her rescue."

"Actually, she couldn't wait to be rid of me."

Janey laughed—hard. "Bet that doesn't happen very often." She wiped the laughter tears from her eyes. "You and Maddie Mattress—Mom would blow a gasket."

Shocked, Mac took a step back, as if she'd punched him for real. "What did you call her?"

"You've never heard that?" Janey seemed pained.

"I don't remember her at all. She was younger than me."

"Five years. She was in Evan's class." Janey winced. "Sorry to just toss that out there. I figured you'd heard it before."

"Why do they call her that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Mac, use your imagination. Rumor has it she kept quite 'busy' during high school. The football team was supposedly very fond of her."

Shock bolted through Mac, pinging around inside him and settling into an ache in his chest. "I don't believe that," he said softly. Nothing in his brief association with her had given him the impression she was loose or easy. In fact, she'd been the exact opposite with him, and he didn't think that was only because of his name. No, there'd been more to it than that.

"Now that I think of it, I haven't known her to be with
any
guy since school. But when Evan and I were in high school, all the boys were wild about Maddie Mattress and her spectacular boobs."

Mac turned to study the harbor and process the information.

"Don't tell me you didn't notice 'the girls,'" she joked. "They're quite something."

He turned back to her, working to keep his anger in check. Why he was so determined to defend Maddie wasn't something he cared to think about just then. "There's more to her than that."

"You're probably the only guy alive who'd say that after meeting her. I see your honorable tendencies haven't been diminished by your years in Miami."

"What's wrong with being honorable?"

"Not a thing. Besides, you've got bigger problems. Mom's gonna flip out when she finds out you're here. She'll be fixing you up with every unattached bimbo in town."

"
What?
Why?"

"Her grandchild clock is ticking like an atom bomb since Janet provided Auntie Joan with twins. Mom is desperate, and she won't be satisfied until all four of you are married and pumping out the babies."

Just the idea of it gave Mac the willies, but even that unsettling thought couldn't clear away the overwhelming sadness over what Maddie must've gone through. No wonder she was so anxious to move into anonymity off the island.

"How come you get a pass on grandkids?" Mac asked.

"Mom knows David and I are years away from that."

"Where is she anyway?"

"Doing the payroll at the hotel. She'll be home in a little while, or you can catch her there."

"Speaking of babies, what do you know about the father of Maddie's?"

"Not a thing. She refuses to say who it was. Word on the street is that it was Royal Atkinson."

"And people just
believe
that?
You
just believe it?"

Janey had the good grace to look chagrined. "Well, when a person has a certain reputation—"

"Whether it's earned or not."

"When she wouldn't name the baby's father, people speculated. She cleaned Royal's house for years." Janey referred to one of the longest-serving town councilmen. "Suddenly that stopped. A few months later, she started to show. People talked."

Mac shuddered at the thought of pretty, petite Maddie getting it on with rotund Royal and his heaving jowls. "No way."

"You asked. I'm just telling you what people say."

"This town needs to get a life. How can you stand it? Don't you ever get sick of it?"

"Doesn't faze me. As long as they aren't talking about me, what do I care?"

"Poor Maddie." The words fell from his mouth before he could stop them.

Janey stared at him. "She got to you, didn't she? And now you're wondering what it would be like—"

"I'm not wondering anything. I just wanted to know her story."

"You should probably keep your distance, Mac. She's had a lot of trouble in her life. Her mother's doing three months in prison for writing bad checks, and her father split years ago. Her sister was a wild child, too. They're not our kind of people."

"That sounds so snobby. She can't help who her parents are any more than we can."

"We got a lot luckier than she did."

"Which is exactly why we shouldn't throw stones."

She went up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "You're too good. Just be careful around her."

He'd already thought the same thing himself, albeit for different reasons. However, much to his dismay, knowing what he did now, he was even more intrigued by her than he'd been before.

"You deserve better than someone who's been around the block a few dozen times."

"You don't even know her."

Janey raised an eyebrow. "And you do?"

While he couldn't argue with that, his gut told him Janey was wrong about Maddie.

"Will you be around for dinner?" Janey asked.

"I've got some stuff to do."

"Come by my place for a beer if you're in town."

"I will."

She hugged him again. "Nice to have you home. I've got to get back to the clinic."

"See ya, brat."

"Don't call me that!" she shot over her shoulder as she went back inside.

Mac rested his hands on the rail and fixated on the harbor. When he woke up in the airport hotel that morning, he'd never heard of Maddie Chester. How was it possible that just a few hours later she was all he could think about?

I
f the house was his mother's domain, Big Mac ruled over the barn-shaped garage. Linda referred to the barn as "the quicksand," because nothing that went in there to be fixed was ever seen again.

Mac navigated his way through the chaos, batting at spider webs on the way to the back corner, his heart pumping with excitement when he saw the white sheet. Just as he'd left it. A couple of old bicycles blocked his path, and Mac took a quick look to see if either of them would be suitable replacements for Maddie.

Dismissing them both, he said, "I'll get her a new one. That'll make her good and mad." He couldn't say why the idea of making her mad was so appealing, but he liked the spark of life that lit up her caramel-colored eyes when he challenged her.

Tugging on the sheet, he uncovered his first love—an orange Honda 250 motorcycle he'd bought from Ned two months after he got his license. His mother had flipped out—and ripped Ned a new one—but Big Mac had urged Linda to "let the boy be."

The bike was already old when Mac bought it, but with his father's help, he'd lovingly restored it. He ran his hand over the gas tank and came to rest on the leather seat. "What'd ya say, old girl? Still got some life left in you?"

Mac wheeled the motorcycle out of the barn to the crushed-shell driveway and was checking the oil when his mother came up behind him, letting out a shriek that nearly stopped his heart.

"Jeez, Mom." He stood up from the crouch he'd been in and hugged her. She was petite with the same fair-haired coloring Janey had inherited. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Oh," she said, "look at you."

"Don't get all mushy."

"You get more handsome every time I see you." She caressed his cheek, her sharp blue eyes zeroing in on him. "But why do you look so tired and thin?"

He smiled to himself. Her children hadn't called her Voodoo Mama for nothing. "Too much work, not enough fun."

"We'll have to see about fixing that while you're home. How long can you stay?"

"A while," he said, intentionally vague. The McCarthy kids had also learned a long time ago not to give her time for scheming.

"Don't tell me you're taking that old rust bucket for a ride." She shuddered. "I hate that thing. I was always so certain you were going to kill yourself on it."

Mac flashed his most charming grin. "There's not one spec of rust on this bike, and I've got to get around somehow."

"Use my car. I just got it out of the shop. I can walk to the hotel or grab a ride into town when I need one."

Mac glanced at the yellow VW bug convertible in the driveway. "Not in this or any other lifetime, Mother."

"Oh come on! It's not that bad."

"Um, yes, it is."

She let out a gasp. "What in the name of God did you do to your leg?"

"I had a little accident in town." He told her about his encounter with Maddie. "So I'll be staying over there, helping her out with the baby, and covering her shifts at the hotel until she's back on her feet."

"You can't work as a chamber maid! What will people say? You're a McCarthy!"

Had he ever noticed before that his family thought they were better than other people on the island? Had Maddie tuned into that, too? Is that why she had such a beef with his parents? "So what? She can't afford to lose the job, and it's my fault she's hurt."

"She won't lose her job. We'll get someone else to fill in."

"She doesn't want that. I'm taking care of it for her."

"No son of mine—"

Mac held up his hand to stop her. "Just because we own the place doesn't mean we're better than anyone else. I'm filling in for her, and that's the end of it. Do we still have those old sleeping bags with the camping stuff?" Leaving her fuming in the driveway, he went back into the garage and found the sleeping bags right where he expected them to be, zipped into large plastic bags to protect them from mold.

"What're you doing with that?"

"I'm sleeping on Maddie's floor for a couple of nights so I can help her with the baby."

"This is insanity, Mac. What will people say? She has a sister—"

"Who has a family of her own to care for. Don't worry, you'll still get plenty of time to fuss over me while I'm home."