If the past few weeks had taught Mackenzie anything, it was that taking on one Kane was difficult.
Taking on two? Heck no!
The sheer amount of charm and testosterone one Kane could put off was enough to send a girl’s head spinning. Or maybe that was anxiety she felt at the thought of two Kanes in her house.
Everything had changed so quickly, Mackenzie hadn’t had a chance to catch her breath.
Which was the only reason she could come up with for why she’d agreed to this ridiculous situation. One minute she was adamant that Wade didn’t need to change his dinner plans. The next, she was sliding into a waiting town car and being whisked down the interstate as if she were the queen of England.
If Hunter hadn’t sounded so excited about how his meeting had gone, she wouldn’t have agreed to the arrangement. But she was certain the label had loved the new direction, and she didn’t want her nerves to ruin Hunter’s big night.
Yet she couldn’t control the growing uncertainty.
“I guess this is how the elite roll, Muttley,” Mackenzie said, her voice disappearing into the vastness of the back seat.
Maybe that was the problem. Apart from Muttley, who had his butt on the leather seat and his face pressed to the window, Mackenzie had the entire back of the car all to herself. The driver, Mike, had even closed the privacy window.
Mike had been uneasy about the whole situation. She’d sensed it in the way his body tensed as he’d cupped her elbow to help her into the car. Then again in his tone when he’d asked if someone else would be accompanying her.
Mackenzie wasn’t sure if the disappointment stemmed from her plus-one having four paws and the potential for drooling on the leather seats. Or if he was afraid his fare might need something he was incapable of providing. But Mike’s rush to get her out of his hair made Mackenzie’s stomach clench.
She was used to Arthur, who was a Titans fan and dog lover and drove an ancient El Camino. With Arthur, they’d chat about music, his brother, and what kind of fish was biting that day. He didn’t care if Muttley got fur on the upholstery or that Mackenzie was blind.
Mike was young, too formal, and—like most guys—terrified of feeling inept. When she’d asked if she could sit in the front seat, the driver had been so flustered she’d laughed it off and graciously let him place her and Muttley in the back.
Hunter intended for her to arrive relaxed and pampered, but the whole ordeal had left her feeling vulnerable. She resisted the urge to call and cancel. She’d effectively canceled the past few years of her life, and she was determined to finally start living again.
“Rule number one,” she mumbled to herself. “Life is unpredictable.”
Things happen, plans change, but big girls keep on moving. Today, Mackenzie was a big girl. She even had on the panties to prove it.
The car slowed as the privacy window whirred down. “We’re here, ma’am. Just hold tight for a second and I’ll come around with an umbrella, so you arrive dry.”
“Thank you,” she said and took Muttley’s harness. As promised, Mike came around and opened her door. “Is Hunter here?”
“I don’t see him, but he might be waiting inside. It’s really coming down.” He took her elbow and assisted her out.
Rain splattered at her feet as they walked up on the curb. Three steps in and Muttley pressed firmly against her side, not guiding her forward but corralling her back.
“Nope, we’re not going back in the car,” she said.
A whine started low in Muttley’s throat.
“Then stand under the umbrella.”
Muttley wasn’t having any of it. Not only did he step farther out from under the umbrella, but he tugged Mackenzie with him. Then barked, as if telling her that he was the one giving the directions today.
Muttley gave another bark. This one was loud and threatening and sent a wave of unease rolling down Mackenzie’s spine. Before she could calm her dog, chaos exploded around her.
An army of shoes slapped against the wet surface, and a loud clicking surrounded her from all directions. Muttley sounded off, his barks echoing through the alley.
“What’s your name?” a forceful voice shouted from her right.
“What is your relationship to Hunter Kane?” This question came from someone standing directly in front of her.
“Mike?” Mackenzie spun around to reach for her driver’s arm.
He was gone.
“Is it true the Hunter Kane Band signed a twenty-million-dollar deal for their world tour?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Is Hunter inside the car?” A camera clicked behind her. “Hunter, are you in there?”
One after another, the questions fired. The voices got louder, became more forceful, and multiplied. An intense energy pressed closer, the heat of bodies surrounded her, making it difficult to navigate her surroundings—figure a way out.
Muttley pressed his body aggressively against her legs in a Let’s blow this joint, Mom move.
Mackenzie wanted to leave, fast, but she was turned around. Didn’t know which way the car was. Or where her driver had disappeared to. Or if the car was even still there.
“Mike?” She called out to him again, but she couldn’t hear anything over the shouting. Or maybe it was the pounding of her heart, so loud and erratic she put her hand to her chest to keep it from bursting.
The smell of wet asphalt and hot breath made her stomach churn, and a dark wave of panic wrapped around her, making it hard to breathe. Out of habit, she widened her eyes over and over, praying that if she got them wide enough she’d suddenly be able to see again.
All that greeted her was blackness. And fear.
It was like she was back in the hospital, opening her eyes for the first time only to realize that darkness was her new reality.
“Back up,” she demanded, putting an arm in front of her and swinging her purse at the reporters. “I need some space.”
And air. God, she needed air. But the only thing she could seem to get was little bursts of oxygen.
Muttley’s bark turned to low, guttural growls, as if he sensed her panic.
“It’s okay, boy,” she whispered, but it wasn’t okay. Not by a long shot. Something Muttley was picking up on.
Circling her body protectively, he put himself between her and the press.
This was why she avoided crowded places. The unpredictability of it all was terrifying. There she was, stuck in the middle of a mob, unable to see what was happening or sense what was headed her way. Unable to soothe her dog.
This—right here—was her biggest nightmare.
“Back off! You’re scaring my dog,” she yelled and turned her head to aim it at the loudest voice. A hard object collided with her cheek. Bright lights flashed behind her eyelids, followed by an acute ache that wrapped its way around her.
Mackenzie gasped, and her handbag crashed to the ground. Muttley yanked on his harness, lunging toward and snarling at the reporters.
“Jesus,” a male reporter yelled, followed by the sound of a camera crashing to the ground. “He nearly bit my hand off!”
“Only because you were shoving it in his face!” she yelled.
“You need to control him,” he said, and Muttley let out another bark. She didn’t have to see to know the reporter had leaped back.
Mackenzie was torn between praising Muttley and crying when camera shutters fired in rapid succession, no doubt getting a shot of Muttley foaming at the mouth and baring his teeth. She could already hear the headlines: KANE’S NEW WOMAN: AS RABID AS HER DOG.
Even worse, she could anticipate exactly what the guide dog foundation would do when they saw the pictures. And they would see them. Nothing said front-page gossip quite like a celebrity’s crazy girlfriend assaulting the paparazzi with her attack dog.
“I should sue,” the man said.
“Randy, if anyone has a complaint, it would be the lady you’re harassing,” a strong and commanding voice said from behind them.
Hunter.
Mackenzie’s panic turned to relief as she felt all the energy turn from her to Hunter.
“Every judge in this town knows you have an issue with personal space,” Hunter said and slid his arm around Mackenzie’s waist. “Now give us some room or I will be pressing charges.”
“This is public property,” Randy argued, but his point was lost beneath the swell of questions coming Hunter’s way.
He fired off “No comment” as fast as the questions came. With a final “good night” to the reporters, he guided her through the crowd and toward safety.
“Can he sue me?” Mackenzie asked, her voice shaking.
“I’ll buy him a new camera and he’ll be fine,” Hunter said, leading her into a stairwell. The door shut behind them, drowning out the noise.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because he’s done this kind of thing before. He’s a known trespasser. No judge will side with him,” he assured her. But Mackenzie didn’t feel sure—about anything.
“Muttley will look like a vicious dog. I don’t even want to know what the foundation will do if they hear about this.”
“Hey.” Hunter cupped her face. “They won’t take Muttley away. I promise.”
Mackenzie’s chest caught on those last two words. They were two simple words. But when strung together, and delivered with so much conviction, it only stirred up doubt. A town car full of doubt.
“You can’t make a promise like that,” Mackenzie whispered, placing her hands over his.
“Why not?”
“Because you have no control over what happens to Muttley.”
Or me.
“All I meant was that everything will work out,” he said, bringing her hands to his lips.
Her heart slowed down until everything felt painfully surreal, the events of the day lying in direct contrast to the last three weeks.
Only the last three weeks had been nothing but the two of them, locked away in a protective bubble. Creating a false sense of safety. A fantasy that could never survive in Hunter’s reality.
“How did they know you were coming?” she asked.
“I think the driver tipped them off.” His voice shook too. But not from fear. Oh no, Hunter was pissed.
“Why would he do that?” she asked.
Hunter blew out a breath. “Money, to feel important, for a story to tell his buddies. Who knows.”
If his answer was meant to reassure her, it did the opposite.
“That’s the problem.” She dropped her hands and took a step back. “I need to know. I need to know who and why, and if it will happen again. I mean, will that photographer come to my house? You said he’s a notorious trespasser. Muttley is still learning his role, figuring out what his limits are. What if he actually bites him?”
“I can’t tell you that,” he said, taking her hands again. “But I can tell you that the driver won’t have a job come tomorrow, and if Randy even tries to come near you, he’ll have to deal with me.”
“Which would only lead to more bad press. For you,” she pointed out. “And what about when you’re on this big world tour? What will happen then?”
As the silence built, so did the pressure in her throat until she was certain it would suffocate her. This wasn’t a one-time situation. This would be an everyday thing.
“Who told you about the tour?”
“One of the reporters asked me about it. I didn’t know what to say, because I didn’t know about the deal.”
“I was going to talk to you about it tonight.”
“What is there to talk about?” she asked. “This is a huge opportunity for you and the band,” she forced herself to say.
“It is. And I wanted to talk to you about joining me on the road,” he said gently, and intense longing mixed with the harsh reality to create one complicated ball of emotion in her chest.
“You want me to go with you?” she asked, unsure why she felt like crying.
She’d waited her entire adult life to hear those words. From this man. Only, like their evening, things happened and plans changed. And Mackenzie’s big-girl plan had included helping Hunter so she could find closure and move on with her life. Then a new door had been opened, and Mackenzie wasn’t sure she had panties big enough to walk through it.
“You’ll be working,” she pointed out. “Late nights, long days, and I have my work. Which happens here. In Nashville.”
“Your clients are everywhere. You can work from anywhere. And we can make this work,” he said with an unwavering conviction that had Mackenzie wondering if they could.
But she knew better. Knew firsthand what it felt like to be trapped by someone else’s limitations, and she refused to be that kind of burden.
So yeah, while that kind of conviction felt unbreakable in the moment, it would be their downfall in the end.
“I am so proud of you, and I know the tour will be everything you dreamed of. But . . .” Mackenzie slid her hands away. “I’m barely ready to navigate my own little suburbia of nine square blocks, let alone stadiums around the world.”
“Then we find someone to be your tour guide,” he said.
Everything inside Mackenzie stilled. “You mean like a keeper?”
“No, Trouble.” His voice was soft. “More like an assistant.”
“An assistant to get me from point A to point B without getting harassed? Or lost?” she clarified, knowing that, one, the interview would include questions on experience with special-needs clients. And, two, the first step toward freedom was admitting one’s limitations. “Will they shop for me, drive me around, keep my hotel room picked up?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Hunter blew out a deep breath. “At least I’m looking for a solution to blend our worlds. You’re looking for a way out.”
“No, Hunter.” For the first time, she was looking past her independence, past the fear, past the obstacles, and toward a future. A happy and free future.
She desperately wanted to believe they could be that for each other. That regardless of what happened or where life took them, if they were together, they could make it work. Or at least make each other’s worlds fuller.
Mackenzie let out a shuddery breath. She’d been here before. Hopeful. Delusional. And so desperately in love it hurt.
“I’m looking at eleven months on the road. And the tour after that. And all the amazing things coming your way,” she whispered. “But if I say yes and go with you, all of that will change. For both of us.”
“It doesn’t have to,” he said gently, brushing away a stray drop of rainwater from her cheek with his thumb.
She closed her eyes and absorbed the feel of his skin on hers. Gave herself over to the sensation, memorized it, then resigned herself to what she had to do.
Following her heart meant giving up her freedom. And asking Hunter to give up his. Because if she said yes, she’d be placed in a situation where she’d be relying on him to be her connection to the outside world. That was a lot of pressure for any relationship, let alone one that was just beginning.
Swallowing hard, she steeled her voice. “But it will, Hunter. No matter what you believe now or how hard we try, our worlds won’t ever blend. Yours will completely absorb mine.”
At her words, Hunter didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. She could sense the frustration and anger rolling off him. Frustration at the situation, but the anger? She was pretty sure that was directed at her. And the longer he remained silent, the harder it became to hold the tears back.
“I call bullshit,” he finally said. “A few years ago, sure, I would’ve accepted that. Would have even agreed that, yeah, in the past I lost track of what was important and didn’t pull my head out of my ass until it was too late. But I’m not that guy anymore. Not with you,” he said flatly. “Never with you.”
“I know. That’s my fear.”
“My putting you first shouldn’t scare you, Trouble.” He gently cupped her hip, drawing her closer.
Darn it, if that didn’t bring the first round of tears, then the conviction behind his words did. And as the first drop spilled over her lashes, she knew she’d never come back from this moment. Not in one whole piece anyway.
“It should scare you too, because eventually I’d end up doing the same, until our relationship was so full of compromises someone would end up losing,” she said, her voice wobbling. “I knew the day we met you could never really be mine, not without a huge sacrifice on your part. For this to work, it would mean more than simple changes. For both of us.”
“Changes we can get through together,” he whispered, his voice as raw as her heart felt.
“That’s just it,” she pleaded as a familiar sense of despair rushed over him. “You don’t need me to go onstage and sing. Just like you don’t need me to write music or go on tour. You have everything you need in here.” She rested a hand on his chest and realized she was shaking. “But for this to work, I’ll need you.”
“By this you’re not talking about the tour anymore, are you?”
Even though she couldn’t see the disappointment in his eyes, she didn’t have a hard time imagining it.
“Jesus.” Hunter dropped his hand and took a step back. “So what, we finish out our last twenty-four hours, then go back to how things were?”
“That’s what we agreed on,” she said. “You help me, I help you, and then we go back to our separate lives. Keep it simple. That was the promise.”
“I don’t give a shit about simple, I care about you, about making this work. So it might get complicated? So what? If life were simple, it’d be boring,” he said, and she ignored the misery in his plea, because she was drowning in her own.
“Don’t you get it? My world is simple. It has to be.” She wiped angrily at her cheek. “Boring is a delicacy. I would kill for boring. For the day when I can go to the store, cook supper, and maybe catch a movie and have it be so boring I don’t break out into a sweat. But that’s going to take me time. The kind of time that will consume another person’s life. I’ve lived that life, Hunter. I don’t want that for you.”
His voice went soft, so soft she felt her chest hollow out. “Have you ever considered what I want?”
“Hunter—”
“No.” He cut her off. “You’re so busy protecting this amazing life you think I have you’ve never once asked me what I want. Because if you had, I’d tell you that I want you, Mackenzie. I want you in my arms, my bed, in my life. Every fucking day.” He reached up, his fingertips skimming her cheek as he cupped her face, catching a tear with his thumb. “How is that for simple?”
Nothing about her life or this situation was simple. She knew that, and there was nothing she could do to change it. “Love is never simple.”
His voice softened, along with his touch. “No, it’s not. I’ve also learned that it’s not enough. But I’ve also learned that it’s a good place to start.” Hunter tilted her gaze toward his. “So the only question you need to be asking yourself is what do you want, Mackenzie?”
Another sob rose in her chest because she wanted everything.
To be happy and loved and unafraid. To be a part of something bigger than her limitations. She wanted to remember what it felt like to look forward to all the tomorrows. And look back on today feeling useful and strong.
And more than anything, she wanted her love to exist without conditions. And while Hunter’s love would come with limitless possibilities, hers would always bring boundaries.
“I want to know what it feels like to stand on my own two feet. No, I need it,” she said, choking on the pain of what she knew she was about to say. “I need to remember what it’s like to be capable. Just like I need for you to look back in a few years and not regret today.”
“Then don’t run away again,” he begged.
“I’m not running, Hunter. We’re just headed in different directions,” she said.
He was silent for so long Mackenzie’s heart was racing. “And here I thought I made it clear I was headed toward you,” he whispered. “You’re so stuck on sacrificing yourself in the fight for me you’ve completely missed that I’ve been fighting for us. I love you, Mackenzie, exactly how you are. The question is, do you love me?”
Yes, she wanted to cry. Everything she’d done was for love. The easy choice would be to take what he was offering. But love never came easily for Mackenzie.
“Hunter, I—”
“Enough said.” His hands fell away from her, and he took a step back—in more ways than one. “I guess you’re right, Trouble, we do want different things,” he said flatly. “You want to go back to the way things were. Problem is, I can’t.”
“So that’s it?” Panic began to curl itself around her. “There is no middle ground?”
“Love doesn’t work that way. It’s an all-in kind of thing. And I think you’re all-in, you’re just too scared to admit it,” he whispered, and she could sense his gaze on her face, lingering, memorizing. Then he pressed a heartbreakingly gentle kiss to her lips. “When you figure it out, I’ll be waiting.”
With that he headed toward the door. It slammed shut behind him, echoing through the empty stairwell. For a minute, she could hear him calling a ride for her, and then everything went quiet.
The silence was so final it resonated through her. Instinctually, her shoulders immediately straightened, back to the place where she could carry the weight of the world—only this time it felt heavier, as if she was going to buckle under the pressure.
She held strong to her decision, fighting the need to crumble. But she was so tired of fighting. For love, for her freedom, for life to finally go her way.
And suddenly, she was too tired to fight. A chill swept around her, clinging tighter with every second that passed. A sob worked its way out, racking her body, quickly followed by another, until her knees began to give way.
She reached back and found the handrail, lowering herself to the bottom step.
Muttley whimpered and pressed himself securely to her side.
Unable to hold back any longer, Mackenzie buried her face in his neck and let the emotion spill free.
The frustration, the longing, the anger, and the grief. Lots of grief. So devastatingly raw it ached to breathe.
If she thought she’d experienced pain all those years ago, it was nothing compared to the deep emptiness filling her chest now, the cold so severe her body was on the brink of shattering with each second that passed.
Mackenzie had survived her share of loss, had learned how to embrace it. She even knew how to put the pieces back together. This time, though, she was afraid she’d never find all the pieces to make herself whole again.