All Over You (9 page)

Sadie reached out to grab Grace’s hand.

“I gave Dylan a chance after what Greg did to me,” she said. “Sometimes it’s worth risking the hurt to get the big payoff.”

Grace shook her head and threw her hands in the air in exasperation.

“Sadie, no offence, but not everyone sees the world the way you do. I love it that you and Dylan are happy together, but I’m just as happy the way I am. Being single is not a disease.”

Sadie smiled a little sheepishly. “Sorry. I’ve turned into the romance pimp, haven’t I?”

“More a romance pusher.” Grace put on a mock-deep voice. “Hey, girls, pssst, take a look at this…. I got sexual love, romantic love, even a small stock of first love. You want a hit?”

Sadie laughed and pushed herself to her feet. “Next time I start pushing, you give me a slap upside the head, okay.”

“Damned straight I will,” Grace said.

“Right, and before I forget — we’re still on for dinner tonight, right? That’s why I came by. What can we bring? Dessert, bread, salad?”

Grace’s eyes widened as she remembered that she’d invited her friends for dinner.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Sadie asked, amused. “God, Dylan and I are a boring married couple already, aren’t we?”

“I’m a little distracted, that’s all.” A flash of Mac’s stunning, naked body raced across her mind. Okay, she was a
lot
distracted.

“So we’re still good?”

“Absolutely. I’ll see you at seven, okay?”

“Done.”

Grace sat back in her chair, trying to order her thoughts. It would be a lot easier if her body wasn’t doing a continual happy dance after a night of intense stimulation.

Irritated with herself, she pushed all thoughts of Mac away. He’d served his purpose. And there were other men out there, after all, if she chose to give up celibacy and explore the idea of taking the occasional lover.

“G
UYS, YOU WANT ANOTHER DRINK
?” Grace hollered from the kitchen as she poured cream into a jug later that evening.

“We’re fine,” Sadie called back.

Sliding slices of caramel walnut cake onto plates, Grace balanced all three on one hand and forearm — classic waitress style — and grabbed the pitcher of cream with her free hand.

“Okay, here we go,” she said, sailing into the living room.

She’d pulled her small drop-leaf dining table away from the wall and it was a tight squeeze as she slid past Sadie to arrange Dylan’s plate in front of him.

“Yum, Gracie,” Sadie said.

Dylan inhaled the scent of cinnamon and caramel appreciatively. “You are a goddess,” he said in reverential tones.

Grace was about to reply when her doorbell sounded.

Sadie raised an eyebrow. “You expecting anyone?”

“No.”

Frowning, Grace headed for the door. It was too late for Girl Scout cookies or a door-to-door collector, so who else…?

“Hey, I was in the neighborhood, thought I should just stop by and grab my wallet, since the runners were too busy today….” Mac said. He was leaning on the door frame, his large body all but blocking the night out.

Once again, she cursed the runners to hell, even as she drank in the sight of him, her gaze running from one broad shoulder to the other, her body tingling from head to toe as she remembered how good last night had been.

Then she remembered she was pissed with him for his woeful morning-after technique.

“Wow, you’re pretty brave turning up here. Aren’t you worried I might be embroidering handkerchiefs for you by now?” she asked.

“Look, about this morning —” he said, but she held up a hand.

“You don’t have to explain to me, Mac. I understand that a stud like you has to spread himself around.”

He frowned. “That’s not why I —” he said, but she spoke over him again.

“Sorry, but I really don’t have time to chat. Too busy having a life of my own. I’ll just go grab your wallet.”

Feeling distinctly pleased with herself — it wasn’t every day that a girl like her got to put a guy like Mac in his place — Grace made her way up the hallway toward her bedroom where Mac’s wallet was in her handbag.

“Sorry, guys, won’t be a minute,” she told Dylan and Sadie in passing.

But Sadie’s eyes were focused over her shoulder.

“Hey, Mac. What are you doing here?” Sadie said.

Grace swiveled on her heel, startled and appalled to see that Mac had followed her into her apartment. He looked equally startled as he registered that she had company.

Shit.
So much for privacy. Sadie was already highly suspicious that something was going on with Mac. There was something vaguely humiliating about having to admit that after four years of celibacy and Bette Davis-inspired man-contempt, she’d given it up to a known horn dog.

Mac’s eyes shot to her face and she tried to tell him without winking or scrunching up her face that her friends were not aware that they’d devoured each other whole last night.

“My wallet,” Mac said after a slightly-too-long silence. “I accidentally left it behind when I dropped Grace off last night.”

“That’s right. Grace mentioned it at work,” Sadie said, but she was looking back and forth between Grace and Mac speculatively. Grace frowned faintly and shook her head, trying to deter her friend from jumping to the right conclusion.

Sadie just smiled mysteriously, however, and turned to Dylan. “You guys know each other, right?” she asked.

Dylan stood and offered his hand. “Good to see you, Mac. I’ve been meaning to call and let you know how much I enjoyed that last block you directed.”

Mac looked surprised. “Yeah? Thanks.”

What was with him and the whole directing thing, anyway, Grace wondered. He’d told her last night that he was only doing it for a change of scenery, but she wasn’t buying. She remembered the way he’d taken photos at the vineyard, the thoughtful way he’d assessed the main rooms, the way he’d insisted on checking out the whole site even though she was making his life hell. He seemed to care an awful lot for a man who was just killing time.

“Yeah, we were all thrilled when Claudia gave you the wedding special,” Sadie said. “Knew we were in good hands.”

A dull red crept over Mac’s cheekbones beneath his tan and he shrugged uncomfortably. Grace narrowed her eyes. Now he was
embarrassed?

“It’s a great story you guys came up with. Can’t wait to read Grace’s script,” Mac said.

Dylan grimaced self-consciously. “We’re seconds away from a group hug here, aren’t we?”

Sadie punched him in the arm lightly and laughed. Meanwhile Grace tried to think of a way to edge Mac out of her living room before someone guessed that he’d done more than lose his wallet at her place last night.

But Sadie and Dylan were already sinking into their seats and picking up their dessert spoons and Mac was leaning on the back of the spare chair, looking as if he was settling in.

She shot him a dirty look but he ignored it.

“I ran into a friend of yours at the gym the other day. Olly Jones,” Mac said.

Dylan grimaced. “Okay, what dirt did he dish? Or does Sadie need to leave the room? I’m a soon-to-be-married man, you know,” he said.

Mac laughed and Grace resigned herself to the fact that her dinner for three had morphed into dessert for four. Wordless, she traipsed into the kitchen and cut another slice of cake for Mac. Returning to the living room, she slid it in front of him. He gave her a surprised look and she indicated with a grudging jerk of her head that he should pull up a seat.

Conversation and laughs flowed thick and fast, and by the time she served coffee they’d all moved away from the table. Sadie and Dylan had taken position on one of her two-seater couches, while Mac sat opposite on the other. Which left her with the choice of sitting next to him or taking the slipper chair close to the fireplace.

The same chair on which she’d ravished him the previous evening.

No contest, really. There was no way she could sit where they’d so recently gotten busy and look him in the eye without blushing.

Perching primly on the edge of the two-seater, she handed out coffees. Why hadn’t she told Mac to wait at the front door? And why couldn’t he and Dylan have hated each other? There was something disturbingly…comfortable about the whole arrangement and it made Grace’s hand tremble as she spooned three sugars into her coffee.

“Three for me, too, thanks,” Mac said, holding out his cup.

“You’re kidding? I thought only Grace ruined good coffee with so much sugar,” Sadie said.

“I have a sweet tooth, what can I say?” Mac shrugged. “So, have you guys set a date for the wedding yet?”

“August,” Sadie said smugly.

“I wanted earlier, but she insisted she needed more time,” Dylan said fondly, lifting Sadie’s hand to kiss her knuckles.

Grace held up a hand in mock self-defense. “Please. Enough already. Aren’t you guys worried about the wrinkles you’re going to get from all that smiling?”

“Grace is a cynic,” Sadie confided to Mac. “She doesn’t believe in love.”

“That’s not exactly true. I just believe it’s a lot rarer than people think.”

She could feel Mac’s blue gaze on her face. She met his eye and raised an eyebrow in response to his searching look.

“What about you, Mac?” Sadie asked.

Mac shrugged, his shoulder brushing Grace’s in the process. Since when had her couches gotten so small? And why was she still so turned on by this man when he’d had her every way but hanging off the light fixtures last night? Surely some of his appeal should have worn off by now?

“It’s a nice idea. In practice, it never seems to go the distance,” Mac said.

Grace stared at him, surprised to hear him echoing her personal sentiments so exactly.

“Absolutely,” she said. “It’s all very well at the beginning when it’s just about not being able to keep your hands off each other —”

“But then the daily grind sets in,” Mac finished for her.

“And before you know it, you’re shredding your ex’s suits and putting sugar in his gas tank,” Grace said.

“Or filing for a restraining order to stop the stalking,” Mac added.

“Wow. Inspiring. Shouldn’t you two be out telling preschoolers there’s no Santa Claus?” Dylan asked.

Grace realized she and Mac were grinning at each other. She gave herself a mental slap reminding herself that this charming, gorgeous, grinning hunk was the same man who’d dumped her so inelegantly this morning, hours after crawling out of her bed. She hadn’t been looking for anything from him, but there was such a thing as respect.

Grace returned her attention to her friends. “Live and let live, Dylan. You and Sadie are in love, and Mac and I are like those two grumpy old men in the balcony on
The Muppets
.”

“Statler and Waldorf,” Mac murmured helpfully.

“Thank you,” she said, making the mistake of glancing at him and getting lost in his amazing eyes again.

While she had turned away, Sadie had wriggled along the couch and was now looping her legs over Dylan’s knees. Toeing her sandals off and wiggling her toes with a forlorn expression on her face, she batted her eyelids at her fiancé.

“Please?” she begged.

Dylan shook his head adamantly. “No way.”

“Just a little rub. I’d do it for you,” Sadie said.

“Would you? At the end of a long, hot L.A. day, you’d put your pristine, lovely hands on my hot, smelly feet?” Dylan said.

Sadie pouted, looking utterly adorable and undeniable.

Grace wasn’t the only person to think so. Out of the corner of her eye, she was aware of Mac watching her friend, and Dylan soon sighed heavily and put down his coffee cup.

“Now
this
is love,” he said, smiling into Sadie’s eyes as he picked up her left foot and started to massage.

That quickly, the yearning-heart, stomach-punch thing from the café hit Grace again. She ducked her head for a second and blinked like crazy fighting out-of-nowhere tears.

What was it with these guys and chest pain? Was it possible to be allergic to other people’s happiness?

God, how miserable did that make her?

Suddenly, she became powerfully aware of the warmth of Mac’s body pressing against her side and the sound of his low voice as he said something to Dylan. The odd discomfort she’d felt earlier about how cozy and domestic this little scene was came back in earnest.

What was she doing sitting beside Mac Harrison playing happy couples with Sadie and Dylan? Especially given what had happened between her and Mac last night and this morning?

Before she knew it, she was on her feet.

“I’d better get that wallet for you,” she said.

Mac looked startled, as though he’d forgotten why he’d come in the first place.

“Right, of course,” he said, following suit and standing.

Grace went into her bedroom and grabbed his wallet from her handbag. He was saying his goodbyes to Sadie and Dylan when she returned to the living room, then he led the way up the hallway to her front door.

Handing the wallet over, she crossed her arms over her chest.

“There you go,” she said briskly.

“Thanks. And thanks for the coffee and cake.”

“Humph,” she said, already pushing the door shut.

“You make that cake yourself?” he asked.

She frowned. What the hell was he playing at?

“I sew, too. Why, you looking for a housekeeper?” she asked.

He grinned. “Okay, I admit it — I handled this morning really badly. What can I say? I’m hopeless at giving women the brush-off. But wouldn’t it be more offensive if I was really slick? If I promised to call and sent flowers and you never heard from me again?”

“It’s so hard for me to answer that, since I only got the shitty, low-rent version,” she said.

“Here’s the thing — you don’t believe in commitment and love. You just said so five minutes ago. And neither do I. Might work for Sadie and Dylan — and for their sake, I hope it does — but I don’t buy it anymore.”

“Is this going somewhere?” she asked, making a show of being impatient and tapping her foot on the ground.

“Yeah. I’ll be honest with you — this morning I was a little worried about what you would expect after what had happened between us. But now that I know we both feel the same way about relationships, I think we might be throwing away a good opportunity here,” he said. “We both like sex and we both have no illusions about what it means. Now that you’ve broken the drought, I bet you’re not so keen on going back to the whole celibacy thing, are you?”