Mandy drew a deep breath and blew it out as she climbed from the car. She halted at the end of the front walk, eyeing the house before her. Marcus’s grandmother’s house. Not surprisingly, given the things Marcus had told her, the place had a warmth to it. Coffee colored with white trim and lush green plants hanging from baskets in the fascia. On either side of the door sat two tall, round ceramic pots containing fat, brightly colored flowers. On the other half of the three-by-five porch was a padded chair and a small end table holding another plant with a single, white bloom.
The neighborhood reminded her a lot of the one her parents lived in. One of the few where the houses didn’t all look the same. Children’s laughter rang through the cool evening air from somewhere close, telling her the neighborhood was likely filled with families. Across the street, a large German shepherd pulled a woman down the sidewalk, his nose to the ground.
Having gotten Cammie out of the backseat, Marcus came to a stop beside her. Cammie trotted past them, climbing the porch, and pawed at the door.
Both of them looked a lot calmer than she felt.
Her every limb seemed to be shaking, and her heart hammered from the vicinity of her tonsils. Two weeks ago, when she’d agreed to do this, it had seemed so simple. How hard could it be to pretend to be his girlfriend? She’d had a crush on him anyway, so it hadn’t seemed like it would be a huge stretch to pretend to be enamored with him.
Now? Well, now her feelings for Marcus had changed, and their relationship didn’t feel so phony anymore. His grandmother’s first impression of her suddenly meant everything.
As if he sensed her gaze, Marcus looked over at her. “You ready for this?”
“Piece of cake.” She let out a laugh that sounded half panicked even to her and glanced down at herself, toying with the hem of the silk camisole she’d donned an hour ago. “Do I look okay? I tried to pick something conservative. I’ve haven’t done the whole meet the parents thing since high school.”
She’d chosen a top like the one she’d worn to Gabe’s barbeque, because she’d caught the look in Marcus’s eyes that night. The undisguised hunger there had made her feel beautiful. She’d wanted to hold on to that tonight. She’d topped the camisole with a blazer and a black pencil skirt, but was the outfit “meet the family” material?
Marcus’s eyes glinted with amusement, crinkling at the corners. He stared a beat before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
“You look beautiful.” His gaze flicked down her body. “Are you wearing a bra under that?”
“Yes.” Mandy pulled her shoulders back. Of course she was. That was a girl thing. Girls could always tell when you weren’t and tended to judge each other harshly for it. Among her closest friends she could go braless, because nobody cared, but Marcus’s grandmother might. He’d said she was old-fashioned, and back in the day they trussed themselves up like chickens. Didn’t they?
He faced the house again, but one corner of his mouth hitched. “Damn.”
Mandy couldn’t help her smile. Whether he’d done it on purpose or not, his teasing lightened her mood and her nerves flitted away on the breeze. Instead, that night at Gabe’s barbeque invaded her thoughts. His hand pushing beneath her shirt. The unbelievable pleasure when his warm palm curved around her breast for the first time.
She bumped his shoulder. “Tease.”
He bumped her back, then tossed her a crooked grin. “Relax. It’s just my grandmother.”
Mandy eyed the house again. “What if she doesn’t like me?”
Several seconds of silence ticked out, filling with a thick, palpable tension. She shouldn’t have asked him that. It told him in no uncertain terms that this meeting meant something to her, far more than it should, and they’d already told each other too much lately.
Cammie whined and pawed at the door again.
Marcus looked over at her, stared for a beat, then turned to Mandy. He cupped her face in his big, warm hands and settled his mouth over hers. His kiss was slow and tender, a tangle of lips that had her sighing and melting into him. Until there was nothing left but him and the warm press of his mouth.
When he finally pulled back, her knees wobbled. Hands caught between them, she let out a breathless laugh. “That helped the panic, but I’m afraid it created another teensy problem.”
Still so close his breath teased her lips, Marcus chuckled. “Good. Now, relax. Trust me. She’ll love you.”
He pecked her lips again, straightened, and slipped his hand into hers, tugging her behind him as he climbed the front porch steps. Stopping before the door, he knocked three times, then pushed the door open and poked his head inside. “Gram?”
“In the kitchen, sweetheart,” a soft feminine voice called from the back of the house. “Did you bring your girl with you?”
He shook his head as he stepped into the foyer. “Yeah, Gram. I brought Mandy with me.”
Cammie, who’d been waiting patiently up until that point, pushed past them and scampered inside.
An older woman popped her head around a wall, some twenty feet or so across from the foyer they stood in. Neatly carved gray brows raised as she bent to scratch Cammie’s head. “Mandy…short for Amanda?”
His grandmother was pretty, from what little Mandy could see of her. The woman had the same sky-blue eyes Marcus had, but her hair won the bid for Mandy’s attention. Marcus’s eighty-year-old grandmother had a short pixie cut, the top gelled into spikes. Eccentric indeed.
Mandy squeezed Marcus’s fingers tight to stem the nervous trembling moving through her body and aimed for a friendly smile. “Nope. Just Mandy. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Oh, honey. You have no idea how good it is to meet you.” As she straightened, Gram smiled so wide it nearly split her face in half. She finally stepped out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a brightly colored hand towel.
Given everything he’d told her, Mandy expected his grandmother to be a frail old woman who used a cane and hobbled when she walked. As she closed the distance between them, though, his grandmother moved with the sure gait of a woman twenty years younger. She came to a stop in front of Mandy, took a moment to tuck the towel into the pocket of a pink apron covered in cupcake drawings, then enveloped Mandy in a surprisingly firm hug.
“This is a day I thought for sure would never arrive.” Gram leaned back, holding Mandy by the shoulders. Her gaze filled with so much warmth the same emotion flooded Mandy’s chest. “He hasn’t brought someone home in eons. I’ve been worried about this boy.”
Beside her, Marcus let out a miserable groan. “TMI, Gram, and I’m forty. I passed boy a long time ago.”
Gram pursed her lips and tossed Marcus a look Mandy had seen one too many times on her mother’s face. It said clearly, Don’t argue with me. “You may not like it, son, but you will always be that little boy who came to live with me thirty years ago. I don’t care how old or how big you get.”
Marcus heaved a sigh and looked over at Mandy. “Forty years old, and she still manages to make me feel like I’m ten.”
The warm familiarity of the exchange had a giggle popping out of Mandy, to which Marcus shot her a playful glare. Mandy covered her mouth but couldn’t stop another giggle. “Sorry, but she’s right. My mother still calls me her baby, and Dad still calls me ‘sport.’”
Marcus frowned, amusement glinting in his eyes. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
Gram rolled her eyes and shifted her gaze to Mandy. “How did you two meet? I’m afraid he hasn’t told me a thing about you.”
Gram’s innocent question had guilt tightening in her stomach. She’d signed up for this, had promised to play this part, but damn it all to hell, she liked this woman. The thought of lying to Gram had nausea swirling in her stomach. She was going to hell for sure.
She smiled to cover her unease. “Well, we were fixed up through a dating service. Military Match? But we’ve actually known each for a while. My brother works at the repair shop.”
“She’s Trent’s little sister,” Marcus added beside her.
“Trent. Really? And then you met again through the dating site. Interesting.” Gram shifted her gaze to Marcus, one brow arched. “If that isn’t fate giving you a shove.”
Mandy pressed her lips together to stifle another giggle. Now she knew where Marcus got that look from.
Glancing at Marcus, she found him frowning in disapproval. That pink flush had crept into his cheeks again. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Gram’s gaze shifted to Mandy. “What is it you do, dear?”
“Oh, I’m a wedding planner.” This, at least, was an easy question.
The pleased gleam that illuminated Gram’s eyes would have put the sun to shame. She turned her head again and pinned Marcus with a direct stare. The corners of her mouth twitched, but to her credit, she didn’t smile. “Wedding planning. You don’t say.”
Marcus rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go. Tell her how many great-grandkids you want, Gram.”
Gram’s lips twitched again, but she waved a flippant hand in the air. “Well, of course I want a dozen, but I’ll settle for two.”
“And we have to name one of them after my sister.” Marcus nudged Mandy with an elbow and looked over at her, a teasing gleam in his eyes.
Both watched her in expectation of an answer, both gazes lively and amused. An emotion Mandy couldn’t share. While some part of her understood they were only teasing, the images their words inspired invaded her thoughts. A five-year-old girl with Marcus’s unusual blue-brown eyes and Mandy’s dark curls. Marcus would hoist the girl high up over his head. Her delighted giggles rang through Mandy’s mind.
The trembling started in her hands, slowly spreading outward to seemingly every part of her. It terrified her how badly she wanted that. With him.
The knowledge had her mind spinning in a million different directions. This went beyond merely wanting more with him than a casual fling. This was the whole enchilada.
Marcus’s brow furrowed with concern. “You okay?”
Looking into those eyes, she knew. She’d gone and done the one thing she swore she wouldn’t. She’d fallen in love with him.
That evening in Gabe’s bathroom, when they’d made this agreement in the first place, flitted through her thoughts. His words filled her mind. “That won’t ever be me, angel.”
The thought of never again getting to experience moments like this—with him and his wonderful grandmother—made her chest ache.
Gram pursed her lips and gripped Mandy’s hand, breaking her out of her tangled thoughts. “Now I’ve gone and made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s a playful argument between Marcus and me. He’s been determined to stay single for so long I can’t help teasing him.”
Mandy smiled, praying it looked remotely friendly and not as terrified as she felt. “It’s okay. It’s just…”
She looked over at Marcus, whose expression had gone carefully blank. She’d seen that look enough times now to recognize it. He was good at schooling his emotions. The SEAL in action no doubt, but seeing it filled her with that impossible need all over again. To be let in. To have all of him.
She turned back to Gram and offered an apologetic shrug. “We haven’t exactly gotten that far. He just talks about you so much, I wanted to meet you.”
Gram released her hand, wrapping an arm around her shoulders instead, and squeezed. “Well, I’m sorry for the pressure. I’m so glad to meet you I’m clearly running away with myself. Come on. There’s a nice bottle of Chardonnay chilling in the fridge. How ’bout we go uncork it, hmm?”
* * *
Two hours later, Gram had Mandy ensconced on the living room sofa surrounded by no less than four picture albums. The old-fashioned rose-printed fabric on the sofa brought up childhood memories. Maybe it was an old-lady thing, but her own grandmother had had one exactly like it. Gram, though, seemed to have an affinity for roses. The sofa matched the pendulum clock on the wall over the fireplace, and several paintings containing yet more pink roses hung on the walls.
After dinner and dessert, Marcus had offered to do the dishes, and Gram had ushered her into the living room. Gram, it seemed, was a natural storyteller, because she hadn’t stopped regaling Mandy with stories from Marcus’s childhood.
“Ahh, there he is in his Little League uniform.” Gram’s voice filled with pride as she tapped the open page on her lap. “Adorable, wasn’t he?”
Mandy shifted her gaze to the album. In the picture Gram pointed at, Marcus couldn’t have been more than ten or twelve. Tall and gangly, he stood with his team, all of them in bright orange shirts, white pants, and matching orange socks. He looked so different from the serious man she’d come to know. His dark hair was long enough that despite his baseball cap, the sides flopped over his ears, and his wide grin spread nearly from one ear to the other. It was the most expression she’d ever seen on his face. He didn’t smile like that anymore.
She ran the tip of her index finger over his image, tracing his features. “Was he any good?”
Gram laughed softly. “Lord, no. Bless his heart, Marcus couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, though his coach used to tell me there wasn’t a more enthusiastic player on the team.”
Gram turned the page and stopped, sitting silent for a moment.
“He was always good with tinkering, though. That’s my rose clock, the same one up on the wall over there. I’ve had that thing for years. Bought it at a yard sale. It stopped working one year. Marcus fixed it for me. He used to love taking stuff apart, just to see how it worked. So every time one of my electronics stopped working, I’d give it to him, just to take apart. He fixed half of them.”
Gram looked up from the photo album, peering across the room as Marcus came to stand in the doorway. He folded his arms and leaned against the frame, simply watching them. The expression on his face was hard to read, and it scattered her nerves. Did he know her stomach was tied in sickening knots? Meeting Gram and listening to her stories had given her a peek at the intimate side of the man. Something she would admit only to herself that she desperately craved.
It also served as a painful reminder that, eventually, she’d have to give all this up. She’d have to give him up. The question was, how much of her heart would be left when it ended? And, more to the point, could she still do this, play the part of his girlfriend? Did she even want to anymore?
Gram patted the seat beside her. “Come sit. I was about to show her pictures of Ava.”
Marcus finally pushed away from the wall and moved into the room. He tucked his fingers in his pockets as he came to stand in front of the coffee table. “Actually, I was thinking we should probably go. It’s getting late, and we both have to work in the morning.”
Gram glanced in the direction of the clock over the fireplace.
“Would you look at that? It’s almost nine.” She patted Mandy’s knee. “I got so lost in the memories. I hope I haven’t bored you. Marcus is always saying I tell the same stories over and over.”
Mandy smiled, praying it didn’t look as forced as it felt. One thing she had decided: she didn’t like having to lie to this sweet woman. A woman she was dying to get to know better. “Not at all. I enjoyed it. It was nice to see how he grew up. Thank you. For dinner, and, well, everything. He talks about you all the time, and it was so nice to finally meet you.”
Gram pulled Mandy in for a tight hug. “You as well. Don’t be a stranger. We should have lunch sometime. I can teach you to make those cookies.”
“I’d like that.” Mandy nodded, forcing the words out past the growing lump in her throat. She’d meant that. Probably more than she should.
Firmly ignoring the thoughts—and the twinge to her chest they inspired—she pushed off the sofa and crossed the room. What she wanted to do was get in the car and go home. She had a big decision to make. Namely, could she let this play out for another three weeks? All the while knowing she was only going to fall deeper for both of them?
She forced herself to stop beside Marcus, steeling herself for the assault on her senses he always was. The woodsy, earthy aroma that seemed to cling to him hit her nostrils first. The warmth and strength of his body next. She ached to wrap her arms around him, rest her head against that broad chest and listen to the soothing thump of his heartbeat, but she kept her hands to herself.
Marcus turned his gaze to where Cammie lay curled up on a blanket on the sofa beside Gram. “Time to go. Say good-bye.”
Cammie rose to her feet, took a moment to stretch this way and that, then licked Gram’s arm and hopped off the couch, trotting to his side.
Gram walked them to the door and hugged them both, bent to scratch Cammie’s head and, like Mandy’s mother always did, stood watching until they were in the car before closing the front door. As soon as she and Marcus were finally alone, the tension mounted. She hadn’t a clue what to say to him anymore. She’d agreed to do this. Hell, it had been her idea. But the thought of continuing was a knot in her chest. She didn’t know if she had to the strength to wrap herself up any further in his life. She hadn’t counted on liking him or his grandmother. Hadn’t expected their lives to fit quite so easily. It was only supposed to be a fling. Great sex with a guy she’d wanted since she met him.
Except all this evening had done was make her yearn for the thing she’d never have: his heart. He’d made that perfectly clear from day one. Marcus didn’t do commitment.
The drive back to his place was too silent. Marcus stared out the windshield, concentrating on the road. She was trying not to think about what had to happen when they got home.
He blew out a breath and tossed a glance her way as he changed lanes and headed for the highway exit. “All right, I can’t stand it. You’ve been unusually quiet tonight. It’s not like you. What’s wrong? I thought that went well.”
The details of tonight’s dinner played through her mind, painful and heartwarming all at the same time. As usual for this time of year in the Northwest, rain picked up out of nowhere. Big fat drops slowly filled the glass. With each one, her heart sank further into the pits of her stomach. Truth was, she knew what she had to do.
She swallowed past the growing lump in her throat. “It did. I had a great time.”
The heat of his stare burned into her, but Mandy couldn’t force herself to look at him. She had no desire to look into those hypnotic eyes or see the connection she knew she’d find there. The one that would pull her deeper.
“And?” When she didn’t elaborate, he sighed and settled a hand on her knee. His voice softened. “Angel, talk to me.”
The term of endearment wrenched at her chest. The truth stared her in the face, like a giant neon sign, all lit up and blinking in the road ahead of them. It said, “Don’t do this.” If she wanted anything left of her heart at all, she’d do what was best for her. She’d already broken her promise to him, had broken rule number one—no emotion.
She wrapped her arms around herself and turned her head, watching the trees and house lights blur past. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
“Can’t do what?” Suspicion and caution edged his voice.
This time, she forced herself to look at him. “Don’t make me do this in the car.”
He came to a stop at a red light and stared for a beat, then nodded and pulled his hand back.
The rest of the drive was eerily silent. Too much time for her to think, for doubt to insert itself into every corner of her mind. Was this really the right thing to do?
By the time he pulled into his driveway and shut off the engine, she could no longer be certain of anything. Only that she loved him. It would only get worse if she didn’t extract herself from his life now.
Marcus, it seemed, had other ideas. After exiting the car, he took a moment to get Cammie out of the backseat and set her on the ground, then grabbed Mandy’s hand and pulled her up the front walk. His fingers tightened almost painfully around hers as he unlocked the door. Was he afraid she’d bolt?
He shoved the front door open, waited as Cammie trotted off into the living room, before pulling Mandy inside. He didn’t give her a chance to say anything. Rather he closed the door and rounded on her, pressing her back against the foyer wall, slid his hands in her hair, and sealed his mouth over hers. His lips all but bruised hers with the ferocity of his kiss. His tongue thrust into her mouth, restless and demanding.
Beneath the sheer power of him, Mandy caved. A quiet whimper escaped and her hands sought him in turn, sliding up his chest. She had to give him up, to end this tonight while some part of her heart still remained intact, but she wanted one more time with him. Wanted his scent imbedded in her skin, in her clothing, to lull her tonight when she had to go home alone and sleep without him.
When she lifted onto her toes, giving back everything he gave her, Marcus groaned. He gripped her ass in his hands, and reminiscent of that night in Gabe’s bathroom, lifted her off her feet and pressed her back against the door. Her skirt bunched around the tops of her thighs. Marcus shifted her weight, holding her with one arm as he shoved the material up over the curve of her ass. Then he reached between them and tugged open his fly.
Mandy reached down and pulled her panties aside, and with a flick of his hips, he pushed into her, sliding into her in one slick, ruthless thrust. His glorious, thick cock buried deep, and Mandy cried out as every sensitive nerve ending came alive. Never in a million years would she tire of this. His incredible passion, the absolute bliss of him filling her.
He wasn’t slow or tender, either. No, he began a punishing rhythm, his hips pistoning into her, driving up into her hard. Every thrust shoved her ass into the wall behind her. Her breasts bounced, making her taut nipples rub his chest. God, it was bliss.
Mandy locked her legs around his hips and gave back with equal force. Their bodies came together with a ferocity that left her breathless, and every merciless thrust sent her careening toward oblivion. She welcomed it. In what could only have been a few dozen strokes, he struck that delicious match deep inside. Her orgasm burst through her, a luscious shower of hot sparks that left her shaking and moaning.
Marcus dropped his forehead onto her shoulder with a low groan. He thrust deep once, twice, and began to tremble as his own orgasm claimed him.
When the spasms finally ended, Mandy wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck.
“You promised me a month.”
Marcus’s words came muffled from the vicinity of her throat.
Mandy tightened her grip on his shoulders, inhaled and filled her lungs. He deserved better, but she couldn’t look at him when she said the words or the expression in his eyes would break her. She’d never get the words out. “I’m sorry. I know I did. But I can’t do this with you anymore, Marcus. I just can’t.”
He attempted to pull back enough to meet her gaze. When she wouldn’t release him, he growled in frustration. “Damn it, Mandy. Look at me.”
She gave in and finally lifted her head. One look at his eyes, though, and she could no longer hold back the tears.
His jaw set in determination. “Why? You owe me that much.”
“Please. Let me go.” When she pushed against his chest, Marcus set her on her feet. She took a moment to straighten her skirt.
Marcus pulled up his jeans but didn’t bother buttoning them. Instead, he gripped her chin in his palm, forcing her gaze back to his. His brow furrowed, but she didn’t miss the panic in his searching eyes. Nor the way his chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. “Stop stalling, damn it, and tell me what the hell is going on.”
“I like her. Do you know your grandmother offered to teach me to cook? We chatted in the kitchen while I helped her with the dessert and coffee. She told me that the chicken and dumplings she made was one of your favorites, and I made an offhanded comment about how I couldn’t cook to save my life.” All the fight drained out of her. She dropped her hands to her sides, her shoulders heavy. “I can’t look that wonderful woman in the face and lie to her. It’s killing me.”
He shook his head, his gaze searching her face for a long moment. Finally, he dragged a hand through his hair and stepped back. “That’s what this is? We’re not exactly lying to her. More like…stretching the truth. We are seeing each other. And after last week, that’s exactly what this is. Short-lived, maybe, but—”
“I failed my end of the bargain.” Her heart hammered in her ears, but the truth stared her in the face. She owed it to him to be completely honest with him. She blew out a defeated breath, her voice lowering with the vulnerability rising over her. “I swore I could do this, but I didn’t count on actually getting to know you. I just expected it to be really great sex, but…”
She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the floor, the rest of her words trailing off into the unbearable silence hanging over them.
This time, he didn’t touch her, but ducked down to look into her face. “But what, angel?”
That word, that single term, nearly broke her. Her chest tightened until she thought it would crack wide open. She swallowed hard and forced herself to hold his gaze, but one look into those intense, beautiful eyes and the words came tumbling out, unstoppable.
“I’m in love with you, and I can’t pretend I want just your friendship anymore. All tonight did was prove to me that I don’t. I want more. I want it all. I want every Sunday with your grandmother, and I want to spend every night wrapped in your arms, from now until the foreseeable future. I want you to call me your girlfriend and be proud of it, and God help me, I want you to be able to tell me you love me, too, someday.”
By the time she finished, her chest was heaving, her breaths coming in short, ragged pants. All she could do was wait for the fallout.
Marcus’s eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out. Finally, he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Angel…”
Mandy held up a hand. “Don’t. Please. If you care about me at all, you won’t say it. It wasn’t intentional, wasn’t something I set out to do. I just sort of ended up here. And I can’t spend the next three weeks pretending this isn’t killing me, or spending time with your grandmother and pretending I wouldn’t kill to be a part of that. A real part. She’s a wonderful person, you know, and when I told her I’d love to spend more time with her, I meant it. Which was what made me decide I couldn’t do this anymore. Ironic, right?”
She let out a quiet laugh, the sound stark and grave. Her gaze went unfocused for a moment before she fixed it on him again.
“I’ll just go.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. She didn’t want to hear it. If he uttered the words moving behind his eyes, if he told her—again—that he couldn’t, or God forbid, that he didn’t love her, too, it would crush her.
So she opened the door and forced herself to move outside to where her car was parked beside his in the driveway. As she climbed behind the wheel, the unbearable silence settled over her and a twinge of pain tightened her chest.
If this was the right thing to do, why did it feel so awful?