Hunter made it through a weekend of babysitting like uncle of the freaking year. He went back to being large and in charge, a guy totally on top of his game. Back to being the Man. Until he walked through Mackenzie’s front door Sunday night and glimpsed her sitting in the sunroom eating a bowl of peaches and wearing the sweetest of smiles on her lips.
Jesus, those smiles. More of them appeared as the days went on, sometimes accompanied by comforting encouragement, other times with a gentle brush of her hand over his. Every time, though, they knocked him off balance.
So it was no surprise that by the time Thursday rolled around, Hunter was a complete goner.
Spending a week engaged in a never-ending battle of look-but-don’t-touch with Mackenzie had only increased the tension between them. Not to mention the heat. Which was edging closer and closer to surface-of-the-fucking-sun, taking Hunter closer and closer to the point of no return.
Bottom line, Mackenzie slayed him. Mind, body, and soul—she had completely captivated him. He spent his days watching her spin words into magic and his evenings uncovering all the nuances that made her tick. In fact, the more he learned about Mackenzie, the harder it became to keep his distance. Even when he was sleeping, she consumed his thoughts.
Not that sleeping was an accurate description. Nope, with Mackenzie only two rooms away, lying in what he could only imagine were tangled sheets and some bright-colored lace, sleep was impossible.
Focusing was impossible. Hell, he’d spent his days distracted by her voice, her scent, intoxicated by the way she moved. Nights were no better, since he replayed that kiss of theirs until the taste was so real it lingered like a fine wine on his tongue.
Hunter was in a bad way.
Which was the only reason he didn’t notice the set of serious fuck-me eyes aimed his way until it was too late.
And they weren’t the warm, melt-your-soul variety he’d been hoping to see emerge from the community center. These were mascara-rimmed and intense—and headed his way.
Not wanting to engage with a fan right then, Hunter pulled his ball cap lower and rested his forearms on his thighs, pretending to be sending an email on his phone, when in reality he was playing Candy Crush.
The sun was nearly set. Mackenzie was about to come out from her meeting any minute, and he was anxious to hear how her class had gone.
When they’d arrived earlier, he’d planned on dropping her off and heading downtown to Big Daddy’s, but she’d paused at the front door to the building, staring at it instead of going in. He’d offered to go in with her, or at least walk her to her classroom, but she’d given him a hard no, explaining that she didn’t want his fame to cause a riot, then reminded him he was her driver—not her keeper.
He’d pointed out that it was a support group for the blind, so unless he started singing they should be fine, but she said his smugness was a dead giveaway, and blind or not, the other members would be distracted by him. No escort needed. She’d call him when she needed to be picked up.
Hunter had watched her swish that heart-shaped ass of hers before hopping back in his car and driving out of the parking lot, only to circle the block twice and go back to make sure she went inside the building. Then he’d turned off his car and waited patiently for her to call while doing his best not to attract any attention.
He’d failed at both.
His patience had vanished the second she’d disappeared into the brick building with the wheelchair ramp and motion-activated doors. The attention he’d attracted was from a tall, fiery redhead who was staring at him as if trying to figure out why he looked so familiar.
This kind of thing happened all the time. It was the downside to making it in his industry. A fan would spot him, ask for a selfie, then before he knew it he’d be surrounded by dozens of people all wanting something.
Normally, he was more than happy to visit, sign a few autographs, even pose for the camera. But since Mackenzie had looked close to calling it a night even before she’d exited his car, Hunter crouched down on the bench, tugging his ball cap lower.
Thankfully, the woman hadn’t made the connection yet. In about two seconds, Mackenzie was going to exit the building, and he didn’t want to give her another reason to close up on him.
He meant what he’d said about that all-night-long kiss under the porch lights. It had been a week of playing by her rules, and they were no closer to figuring out this thing between them.
Time for a different approach. One that included proving just how great things between them could be. The only thing he knew for sure was that she’d be hungry—and he was going to use that to his benefit. Sure, there were some steaks in her fridge, but he wanted tonight to be special.
Going to support group had been a huge step out of her comfort zone, and he wanted to celebrate that. Over the past week, they’d gotten into a routine. Out of bed and in the studio by dawn, they’d work on the album until noon, then walk down to the grocery store and buy a couple of sandwiches and all the fixings for supper. After Mackenzie put another aisle to memory, they’d walk back home to her sunroom and share the sandwiches before hitting the studio for another few hours.
Supper would be in the kitchen. Last night, they had enjoyed Hunter’s homemade chili while sitting on the back porch, which was a nice change. But tonight needed to be different. He was determined to get her away from the comfort of home in hopes they’d share other, more personal things.
Mackenzie liked talking about herself almost as much as she liked going out in public, so it would take some serious convincing on his part. But he’d already gotten over the biggest hurdle—getting her downtown. It wouldn’t be that hard to get her to agree to supper at Big Daddy’s. Once he got her to the bar and she reconnected with all her old friends, she’d remember how easy it could be.
“Excuse me,” the redhead said, pulling up on a bike. Not the kind with a motor but the pedal kind. It was light blue, with a white basket attached to the front. Inside, riding shotgun, sat a pocket-size powder puff with wet black doggy eyes and paws bigger than his head.
Both driver and dog wore fitted pink tees that said BITCHES WITH A BITE, and while the dog was shoeless, the woman had on black boots—steel toed by the looks. She was an interesting combination of Dr. Dolittle meets GI Jane. “Are you Hunter?”
And here we go . . .
Adopting his best cover-of-Rolling-Stone grin, he stuck out his hand. “Yes, ma’am.” When she just looked at it as if unsure he’d washed his hands after using the little boys’ room, he flipped his ball cap around and said, “I bet you want an autograph or a picture.”
Her eyes went wide and her cheeks pinked with nervousness. He’d seen it a million times. The woman was starstruck and needed some direction. Or in about three seconds, she was going to squeal and draw the attention of everyone in the area.
“A swift kick to the nuts sounds more my speed,” she said, and wow, she wasn’t giving him fuck-me eyes—she was sending him a clear fuck-off-and-die glare.
“Do I know you?”
“No, but that you had to ask reconfirms everything I’ve read about you.” Hunter got the distinct feeling that she hadn’t meant it as a compliment.
The dog barked several times, and that’s when Hunter noticed his red “Dog in Training” vest. Combat Boots shushed him and then faced Hunter. “This is Puddles. He’s trying to figure out playtime from work time still, so if you can ignore him when he asks for attention, that would be great.”
“Is he yours?” he asked, wondering if she was in Mackenzie’s support group.
“I’m training him,” she said. “Now turn around.”
When he didn’t move, she gestured for him to get turning, and the dog went ballistic. With a gentle shush, the dog was staring up at his mistress, completely silent. Taking a cue from the dog, Hunter got out of the car and did a slow circle.
When he was done, she rolled her eyes. “Not bad, but I still think the best-buns title should have gone to that Captain America guy.”
“Okay, show’s over.” He crossed his arms over his chest. He’d dealt with enough paparazzi to be wary of Santa himself. “Who are you?”
“Someone who cares for Mackenzie,” she said, then hesitantly stuck out her hand. “Tia Flynn. I’m Mackenzie’s sponsor. More important, I’m her friend.”
He took her hand, noticing how fragile it was when compared to the big chip on her shoulder. “Sounds like we have something in common, then.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.” She looked more hopeful than convinced. “She mentioned you guys were working on a project, and that you’d taken her to the store a few times.”
“I’ve gone with her, yes,” he said vaguely, and Puddles started barking so fiercely each low yap vibrated his little body.
Tia looked from the dog back to Hunter and gave the pup a good-job ruffle of the ears. “Puddles is an alert dog, trained to detect changes in body chemistry to signal an anxiety attack. He’s also excellent at detecting bullshitters.”
“Not bullshit, just cautious.” Sponsor or not, Mackenzie was a private person, and it wasn’t his place to share what she’d confided in him. If Mackenzie wanted Tia to know she was working on being more independent, Mackenzie could tell her.
“Huh,” was all she said. “And did you drive her here?”
“Yup.”
Tia studied him for a long moment, trying to get a read on him. Good thing for Hunter, he was used to people sniffing around in his business. So he upped that grin wattage and waited. Unlike most people, silence didn’t bother him.
It didn’t appear to bother Tia either, because instead of filling it, she used it to her advantage, taking the time to study him further, decide just how much she was willing to share. “Did she tell you why she needed the ride?”
“Yup. Did she tell you?”
“Yup.”
It was clear the woman was as suspicious as he was and protective of Mackenzie. The way Hunter saw it, they could stand there all day and get nowhere, or they could help each other out and maybe gain deeper insight into what Mackenzie had gone through. She could fill in the gaps he’d missed out on.
“She said her usual ride was on vacation,” he offered. See, he could be forthcoming.
“Arthur is on a fishing trip,” Tia said. “Leaving Mackenzie to fend for herself.”
“Not as long as I’m around.”
“Great, a superhero complex as well.” She rolled her eyes, then glared at him. Hard. “Did you know you’re one of six visitors she’s had since she left the hospital?”
“One of six?” Was she serious? Brody told him she’d lost her sight not long after he and Hadley had married.
She ticked off a finger. “Me. Her agent’s family.” She ticked off three more. “Arthur. And here’s you.” She wiggled the pointer finger on her free hand.
Hunter had a finger he wanted to wiggle at the universe. “I thought she got out of rehab a year ago.”
Tia bit her lip, no doubt wondering just how much to share. “Eleven months, and transitioning back into the seeing world is difficult enough. And Mackenzie did nearly all of it on her own.”
“She’s stubborn.” Hunter smiled.
Tia did not. “She’s scared.”
She was that too, but few people took the time to see past the tough exterior to the vulnerable woman beneath. Tia had, and that meant she could be an ally. And right then, he needed an ally.
“She’s both,” Hunter said, and Tia nodded.
“Which is why I’m going to ask you to stop helping her.”
Scratch that. They were not on the same side. “She asked for my help, nothing will stop me from doing that.”
He’d blown it the first time around, being so wrapped up in his own problems and plans that he hadn’t noticed the signs that she was in trouble. He wasn’t about to make that mistake again.
“I’m not saying don’t support her, but there’s a difference between helping and handicapping.” She held up a hand when Hunter went to argue. “Transitioning into the seeing world is rough. Things that were as simple as routine become huge obstacles to overcome. It’s not just adapting, it’s reinventing your life, and Mackenzie’s had a harder time than most. She’s hit a wall and can’t seem to get over it.”
“She’s gotten over worse and she’ll get over this too. She just needs time,” he said, knowing it was the truth. “Nothing will get in her way once she decides to go after something.”
“If you’re not careful, you will,” she explained quietly. “It will be well intentioned, but if you give her an out, she’ll take it.”
A fact Hunter knew firsthand. It was how he’d lost her the first time around.
He’d known something serious was going on with Mackenzie leading up to his wedding, but when pressed, she’d only clam up tighter, and he’d let her. Had he taken the time to find out what was really going on, let her know she was a priority, things may have gone differently.
For both of them.
“What are you suggesting?”
“That you encourage her to entertain new experiences but stand back and let her fail.”
“Mackenzie isn’t big on change.”
“I know,” Tia said. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a client so afraid to fail.”
“Not around me.” He laughed. “Hell, the woman is too busy pretending to have it all together to worry about failing.”
“And when you’re gone, how will she be then?”
If the sweat forming on his forehead wasn’t an indicator of his increasing anxiety over what was to come when his time was up, then Puddles’s yapping was.
In Mackenzie’s experience, failing had dire consequences. And it was left up to her to push through the aftermath. But pushing forward was a part of her core makeup. However, taking care of others, was ingrained in Hunter’s DNA. Which was going to make for one hell of a fun few weeks.
“Muttley was a hard dog to place because he has needs that go beyond a normal guide dog. If something doesn’t change, Mackenzie might lose him. And that would crush her,” Tia said.
Crushed was an understatement. Losing Muttley would be another loss in a list of many.
“I had no idea.” He cupped the bill of his ball cap in his palm and resituated it. “This changes things.” Because this was no longer just about the music or the two of them. If she was as distracted by him as he was by her, she might accidentally sacrifice her own needs and goals.
Even worse, Mackenzie was stubborn enough to lose it all rather than ask for help.
“I’ll let her do things on her own, but I refuse to allow her to feel alone, and that means finding a way to get her excited about the change.”
Tia gave him a genuine smile. “Maybe I had you pegged all wrong.”
“What did you think?”
“That you were some narcissistic tater-dick who believes he knows what’s best for everyone and everything, and is under the delusion that the world runs on his schedule.” She shrugged. “Pretty much that you were a typical guy.”
“I don’t know what kind of assholes you’ve met—”
“Some pretty spectacular ones.” Tia lifted a brow. “And even though Mackenzie says you’re one of the nice ones, I’ve learned not to trust the nice-guy package.”
“When it comes to Mackenzie, you can trust me.” Even as he said it, his chest became uncomfortably tight—and the freaking lie detector went off again.
Yap yap yap.
Hunter had been honest when he said Tia could trust him. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to ensure Mackenzie’s safety and happiness.
Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of uncertainty and helplessness slammed through him, twisting and churning until it created one hell of a complicated knot of emotions in his chest.
He could almost picture Hadley in front of him, shaking her head at his Superman complex. Reminding him that stunts like this were one of the main reasons their marriage hadn’t worked.
Christ. The knot tightened until he could barely breathe.
Mackenzie had given an almost identical reason for why she’d kept her condition a secret in the first place. Yet he’d just planned an evening for her that she’d never willingly attend. After what was going to be a trying night.
Shit. It was as if he hadn’t gotten a fucking clue over the past few years—the past few weeks.
He looked up at the universe and took a breath. Got it. Message heard loud and clear.
Hunter might have been slow on the uptake, but he was tuned in and listening now. First step: he needed a new plan.
“When it comes to Mackenzie, you can trust that I will annihilate you if you hurt her,” she said, and just like that the dog stopped barking, highlighting just how serious Tia was.
Hunter was serious too. He was going to make sure no one ever hurt Mackenzie again—even Mackenzie. And especially not him.
All he needed was to find the perfect opportunity to get her to de-compartmentalize, expand her world, and prove to her that life could still be fun. And he would make sure that she could explore it on her terms. Not his.
He looked at Tia, a walking encyclopedia of solutions. “What’s the next step in her therapy? And how can I be supportive and not suffocating?”
Tia smiled. “And here I thought men were all untrainable.”