Stay With Me (13 page)

“’Lo?” Ah, four years of college education at work.

“Mackenzie, this is Jordan.”

I sat up a little straighter, almost toppling my laptop. I was so ridiculously pleased to hear his voice it was embarrassing.

“Yeah?”

“You left your iTouch in my car. Didn’t want you to go crazy looking for it.”

“Damn. I thought I’d lost that. I’d actually kind of given up hope on finding it. Even cleaned my apartment looking for it, horror of all horrors.”

I was aware that I was babbling like a fool, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I mean really,” I continued, blabbermouth central, “do you know how many places something that small can hide?”

He snorted. “Somewhat. You should try keeping up with my Nano. It’s precisely the size of a freaking matchbook.”

“I’d never get something that small. It wouldn’t last two days.”

“It’s good for jogging.” I heard the murmur of voices and knew he spoke to someone else. “What? No, it’s on the table.”

Ah. Of course someone like Jordan wouldn’t be sitting at home alone on a Saturday night. “Well, I don’t want to hold you,” I said before he could.

“Hm?” He sounded distracted as music began to filter over the phone.

“I don’t want to hold you,” I said louder.

“Oh no, you’re not. We’re having that welcoming party I told you about. It’s also an excuse for me to christen the new barbeque pit. Really, it’s just a glorified gas grill on the patio. Management is finally allowing us to have grills again.”

I laughed. “Good for you. I’m still suffering with my Foreman grill over here.”

He paused, and even though I could feel it coming, I knew I’d tell him no. “You really should come down,” he said.

“With you and your friends? I’m sure I’d fit right in.” I yawned widely, letting my eyes drift closed a bit. I would almost be up for another nap except I was sure the nightmares would follow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That’s supposed to mean I’ve gone to enough of those firm dinners and gatherings to know exactly what I’d be in for.”

Trevor’s associates gave highbrow a new, unpleasant meaning. Besides, I’d spent the better part of my morning in a tree. I wanted to spend my evening pleasantly, not eating hors d’oeuvres with people who thought your worth was valued by the series of your BMW.

“Not everyone at the firm is like that.”

“I’m sure.”

“Am I?”

My eyes snapped open. Well, damn, he had me there. “No. Is that your Perry Mason moment?”

He sounded smug. “A little bit, yeah.”

“All right fine, let me know when the rest of them are gone, and I’ll come hang out with you.” I almost groaned, realizing how that had sounded. Instead I bit the fleshy part of my hand between the thumb and forefinger and continued on quickly. “You know, as friends. Watching the game or something.”

He sounded amused. “Something butch, you mean?”

“Urgh,” I said eloquently.

“Hang on.” The noise in the background suddenly ceased, and I heard a door close. “I’d like it if you came tonight,” he said, his words polite enough but the demand clear.

That kind of complete focus both thrilled and scared me. I couldn’t imagine what he could do with that kind of single-minded focus in the bedroom. Hands under my thighs, spreading me wide, giving me exactly what I’d asked for. Begged for. He had strong legs. Fucked like a machine, I’d bet.
Good God.
My face went scarlet, and no one was even there to see.

“I don’t think—”

“You think way too much. Now get in your raggedy-ass truck and bring your ass to the party.”

“Raggedy?” My eyebrows shot up. “Bessie still has plenty good years left in her.”

“If Bessie is that old, dilapidated heap I saw, she should be shot and put down.”

I was so busy snickering that I almost didn’t catch his sneaky, “So I’ll see you in ten?”

“Ten?” I squawked. “I live thirty minutes away.”

“Thirty minutes, then.”
Click
.

“No, time is not the issue,” I growled to empty air. Talking to myself, of course.

I didn’t know why I was fighting it quite so hard. I wanted to see Jordan more than I probably should. Now I had a perfect excuse. Maybe that was part of the problem. I argued myself into going, but I wouldn’t change. That was my compromise. I thought about cologne and decided the Dove smelled just fine. He had invited me. If they didn’t like me as I came, then oh well. I started Bessie up with crossed fingers, hoping she hadn’t heard about me surfing the net for the Avalanche yet.

T
HE
SMALL
get-together wound up being about thirty people milling around Jordan’s newly landscaped backyard. His choice of location denied me the opportunity to see the inside of his monstrosity of a townhome. It only appeared to qualify being a townhome by the fact that it shared one wall and driveway space with another such monstrosity. I made my way around the side yard, keeping to the flagstones and following the beams that bathed the backyard in soft yellow light like a forest fairy tale. I stood there for a moment, surveying the crowd and noting the faces.

It seemed like a different type of crowd than Trevor usually introduced me to. Jeans and tees seemed to be the sponsored outfit of choice, and I wasn’t out of place at all. And was that beer? Before I could rudely migrate directly to the beer, skipping the hello to my gracious host, I spotted him laughing with some burly guy near the grill who looked less like a lawyer and more like a client. His eyes met mine. My breath stuttered in my chest for a moment, and I was grateful he had a bit of a walk before he reached me as, when he handed the guy the silver tongs, he’d waved. He headed my way, looking effortlessly amazing as usual, in white cargo pants, a white tee with “Save Japan” across the front in tiny black letters, and white flip-flops that slapped against the tile as he approached. I swallowed hard. Turns out I really dug guys who wore old relief-effort T-shirts.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

“You make it impossible to say no.”

His eyes widened a little, and I suddenly realized how sensuous that sounded. I didn’t take it back.

I almost expected him to greet me and disappear back into the crowd of his friends, but he lightly touched my elbow to guide me around, introducing me to people. After the second group, I snatched my elbow away, not caring if he took it the wrong way or not. There were only so many tingles that could shoot up my damn spine.

Rachel gave me a curious wave from her perch on the balustrade, and even I, who had no attraction for the fairer sex, could appreciate a thing of beauty. Her dark hair set off her completely white palazzo pants and blouse to perfection, and as she brought a delicate wineglass to shockingly red lips, she looked like a magazine ad. The girl wasn’t classically beautiful, but she had damned lovely bones.

When he introduced me to her, it became clear just how little either one of us had thought this through. It would be kind of hard to follow someone who had met and spent time with you. I had no sooner complimented her Tory Burch sandals than I met someone else, and then someone after that. Somewhere between the time burly grill guy passed me a steak heavy enough to make my plate creak and groan dangerously and cute possibly gay guy (let’s face it, frosted tips?) winked and offered me a chair next to his, I realized I was having a damned fine time.

I debated for a moment on where to sit, conducting a quick surveillance of the layout. There were several low glass tables set up with big cushioned chairs that no one was taking advantage of. There were also plenty of those same plush patio chairs set up in semicircles around the flagstone patio, where people seemed to be doing a balancing act with their food and talking a whole lot more than eating. There were several small bonfire circles set in white circular pillars that flickered off animated faces, and I was suddenly inspired to give being social a shot. I headed for the chair Frosted Tips was gesturing toward to put him out of his flirty misery. If he didn’t stop giving me hand signals, a plane was going to take off somewhere.

It wasn’t like it was a hardship. He was ridiculously good-looking, even though his butterscotch hair had been razor cut into some sort of style that
could
indicate he had a severe case of Beiber Fever. He flashed particularly pearly whites at me.

“Doug makes a mean steak, doesn’t he?”

“If Doug is that biker guy manhandling that grill, then I’d have to agree.”

He chuckled, holding out his hand in the region of my face as I balanced my paper plate on my knees. I juggled my beer and my plate for a dicey moment to free up my hand and then shook his heartily. His hands were strong. Firm.

“Kelly Markey.”

“Mackenzie Williams.”

“I haven’t seen you around the building.”

“I don’t work in the building,” I answered smoothly. “That would be strange if you had.”

“So are you with someone here?”

“Jordan, actually.” I took a taste of the rosemary and garlic potatoes, enjoying them so much that I almost missed his raised eyebrow.

“Channing? You and….”

“What? No.
No
.” Oh, jeez, this was a new type of blunder. Outing someone who wasn’t even gay? “He invited me as a friend. Just a friend.”

He smiled. “I was going to say Jordan just doesn’t give off that vibe.”

“And I do?”

“I was right, wasn’t I? Besides, you have way too many highlights not to be.”

“Cute, Beiber.” He actually was.
See, Mac
, I congratulated myself.
This isn’t hard at all.
“So do you guys have many of these events? These welcome the new associate things?”

“I wouldn’t know. I would be the new associate.” He grinned. “Family law. Fourth floor. You should come see me sometime.”

“As much as my family irritates me, I’m not quite ready to legally separate from any of them.”

“So if you’re not one of the attorneys, what
do
you do?”

“I’m a….” I thought better of revealing my actual profession just in time, but my thought left me with an awkward pause.
Think
. And then I smiled a little. “I’m in the landscaping business.”

“Oh really? That so?” Kelly injected so much enthusiasm into his query you’d have thought I’d announced I was a lion tamer with Barnum & Bailey. “You know, I’ve been looking for a good landscaper to create a pond in my backyard.”

Oh hells, no.
“I’m kind of booked for a while. But I’ll let you know if I have an opening.”

“You must be good,” he said, finally tucking back into his food.

I shrugged modestly. “I do all right.” Hell, Mr. Nesbitt’s yard had probably never looked better.

“So what’s your professional opinion of Channing’s yard, here?”

Lord above. He was going to pretend interest in my profession to be polite. And I was going to have to feign interest as well as expertise. I should have gone with the lion tamer thing.

“It looks good. Healthy. Well watered, but not too much,” I guessed. Why not assume Jordan did yard work as competently as he did everything else?

We yammered on about our jobs for a little while longer. Then sports. Then weather. Then back to sports. It was around the time we started going on about the latest Heat game that I realized Kelly was actually pretty cool. And available.
You don’t turn him down if he offers to get together again
, I lectured myself.
You forget Jordan. And Trevor. And Nick.

“We’re going to the Heat game next Saturday. You should come. The firm has a box and everything.”

“Wow, you just got hired, and you’re already all up in the firm’s VIP box?”

“Hey, perks are perks.” He shrugged. “So. You interested?”

And there it was, out in the open.
You say yes.

I grinned. “In D. Wade? Of course.”
That’s not yes
, I silently screamed.

He laughed. “The game, Mackenzie. The game.”

“As lovely as a box sounds, I like to watch my basketball games like real folk. In the cheap plastic seats with sticky armrests.”

Kelly wasn’t slow on the uptake, and he shrugged with a half smile. “Maybe another time, then.”

“Maybe.”

We continued to talk and razz each other for another ten minutes before Jordan came to introduce him around to some of their coworkers. I meandered over to the table laden with food, swearing up and down that I would only get one more thing. Okay, two more things. A beer and then I’d git while the gettin’ was good. And then the God of Pushed Luck appeared, and there Trevor was, right there between the seven-layer bean dip and a curiously spicy salsa. I munched down hard on my bacon-wrapped shrimp, hoping against hope that he’d keep moving.

“Mac. What are you doing here?”

“I was invited,” I said shortly. I doubted he could say the same. There was no way Jordan would invite him without at least telling me he would be there. “Does Jordan know you’re here?”

“Last time I checked, I was an associate at the firm. I didn’t know I needed a written invitation.”

“Is that Trevor-speak for no?”

He flushed a bit and hit back the only way he knew how. “Nice of you to dress up for the occasion. You look very… comfortable.”

I narrowed my eyes. More Trevor-speak. Comfortable meant messy all day long. “I look like the majority of people here, actually. Last time
I
checked, an Armani suit is inappropriate for a backyard barbecue.”

“I just left the office and didn’t have time to change. And this is Hugo Boss, actually. I don’t know
why
they haven’t snatched your gay card yet.” He brushed some invisible lint off said suit and continued, “Besides, you bleached all my Armani suits. I never thanked you for that.”

“Welcome,” I said in a singsong manner.

I dropped my empty buffet plate in the trash and migrated toward the beer cooler. Trevor followed like a bad rash.

“I was under the impression that this wasn’t your type of event. I had to drag you to the last event we had for the firm. From what I recall, you insulted a partner by calling his wife his daughter, hid your mushroom caps in the potted plant because they contained pâté, and put ‘Like a G6’ on the radio.”