It had been two days since he’d seen Lily. Two days since he’d inhaled that fresh scent that was all her. Two days since he’d felt her warmth, and two days since he’d looked into her eyes.
It was two days too long.
He needed her. God knows he needed her, and for the first time in his adult life, he was going to reach out. He was going to roll the dice and see where they landed.
He had finally called her back the night before, and just the sound of her voice calmed him. There was no judgment, no cold and frosty attitude. There was only concern.
He would have gone to see her—had wanted to—but knew it wasn’t smart because A) he’d been drinking and couldn’t drive so that stopped him right there, and B) he looked like shit and didn’t want her to see him like that.
They didn’t talk about anything that mattered—not really. He told her that his designs were coming along, told her that the golf course was set, and it looked as if the project was ahead of schedule.
Lily had asked him what that meant exactly, and since he was trying real hard to be honest, he’d told her that it meant he could go back to New York City before Labor Day—not that he was planning on that.
She’d gone real quiet, and then she told him that they needed to talk.
No shit.
He glanced in the mirror as he dragged the razor over the stubble on his chin. Christ, he looked crap, but then hugging a bottle of Jack for two nights straight would do that to you.
For a second he froze, his green eyes unfocused as the image in the mirror wavered, and he took a step back.
It was his father’s face he saw, and Mac shook his head, more than a little freaked out. He leaned on the sink, breathing heavy, counting slowly in an effort to pull his shit together.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood like that, alone in his bathroom, counting, breathing, and then counting again. But when he finally dragged his gaze back to the mirror, he was grateful that it was his face staring back at him and not Ben’s.
“Jesus, get it together,” he said roughly.
He’d worked from the cottage today, and it was nearly time for him to head into town for Liam’s ball game. His sister had swung by earlier, but they hadn’t talked about Ben or his mother. She just wanted to make sure that he was okay and that was enough.
Mac pulled on a pair of jeans and T-shirt before grabbing his cell and keys off the table beside his bed. For a moment, his gaze lingered there, eyes on the twisted sheets that told the story of how he’d hardly slept. How could he? The empty bed did nothing for him, and without Lily’s warmth next to him, he’d moved to the couch and settled in for a long night of channel surfing.
But that was about to change.
He’d come to a few hard realizations over the last few days, one being that he couldn’t shut out the people who cared for him when he himself shut down. Jake and Cain were giving him space mainly because it was their status quo whenever Mac lost it. But he was kinda over that now.
He also realized that his mother was never going to change. She was always going to choose the bastard she’d married over herself and her kids. Mac wasn’t real sure where he stood with that. He loved his mother, but he was so disappointed in her choices that it hurt. But who was he to judge? She obviously loved Ben Draper, and even though it was a twisted and screwed-up kind of love, it was all she had.
She just happened to love Ben more than anyone or anything else, including herself, and if you asked Mackenzie, that was really sad.
Mackenzie also knew that he needed to stop using the bottle to escape. Shit, it’s not like it fixed anything other than maybe making him forget for a little while.
But maybe he was done forgetting. Maybe he was done avoiding. Maybe he just needed to deal with his shit once and for all, and move the hell on.
Mac slid into his truck and felt lighter the closer he got to Crystal Lake. In less than ten minutes, he’d see Lily, and right now it was the only thing getting him through.
He had some things he wanted to say to her, an idea that had taken root and hadn’t let go. An idea that had come to him somewhere between that last sip of Jack and that first light of dawn.
He wanted her. He wanted her badly.
He thought that maybe he even loved her. Him. Mackenzie Draper, who had never allowed himself to love another person. Not in that way. And sure, he was man enough to admit it scared the crap out of him, but after the last few days, he knew that he didn’t want to go it alone, not anymore.
And he was hoping she would consider moving to New York City to be with him.
When he pulled into the ballpark the first thing he saw was her car. The second thing he saw was her.
And suddenly everything was right in his world.
Mackenzie barely cut the engine before he was out the door and striding toward her. He didn’t say anything. He just scooped her into his arms and pulled her close to him. So close that he could feel her heartbeat. So close that he felt the air swoosh out of her lungs as she nestled against him.
So close that that elusive thing he’d been searching for—peace—finally washed over him.
“Boston,” he said but had to take a second because that big-ass lump that was in his throat made it hard to speak. He sank his fingers into her hair, loving the way she melted into him, and when he finally had his shit together, he spoke.
“Are we good?” God, so inadequate, but it was all he had right now.
She nodded. “We’re good.”
“I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”
“It’s okay,” she murmured against his chest. “Really. I know you needed your space.”
He yanked his head back because he needed her to see the truth. “No, Lily. I don’t need space anymore. I need you.” He brushed his mouth across hers. “I need you so badly that I can’t think straight.”
He cupped her chin and kissed her thoroughly. He kissed her until his head spun and the chorus of catcalls and whistles penetrated his little bubble.
Reluctantly, he dragged his mouth away and rested his forehead against hers.
“I missed you.”
“Me too,” she said softly before nudging him. “But you have a ball game to coach.” She was silent for a moment, her eyes misty. “We’ll talk later.”
“Damn right we will.”
She walked him to the dugout, and then he watched as she made her way over to Becca, who sat alone in the stands. Mac’s mother wasn’t around, which surprised him—she hadn’t missed any of the ball games yet, though he supposed she was still hurt and pissed at him.
The boys were tossing the ball around, and Cain clapped Mac on the shoulder. “You want to do the infield warm-up?”
He nodded. “Sure.” This was good. This was normal, and normal was what he needed right then. Mac slid his hand into his ball glove before striding onto the field and calling for his infield.
He glanced back once more, his eyes on Lily, and felt that strange sensation fill his chest again. It was hot and squishy and so damn sweet that he had to look away because something hot and wet pricked the corners of his eyes.
Holy. Hell. There was no room for a pussy out on the field.
He cleared his throat, grabbed a bat, and headed to home plate.
***
The game was going well until about the fifth inning. Liam gave up three hits, and the team found themselves down by two runs with the bases loaded, no outs, and the opposing team’s heavy hitter at the plate.
Mac could tell that his nephew was getting frustrated, so he signaled a time-out and walked over to the mound.
Liam’s head was lowered, and he kept digging at the pitcher’s plate with his foot.
“Hey, buddy. Are you still feeling loose? How’s your arm?”
Liam shrugged. “It’s okay.”
Mac waited a moment before he broached the delicate subject of a replacement. “Do you think it’s time to bring in Jason?”
Liam’s head shot up, and he straightened his ball cap. “I don’t mean to be a dick, but he sucks, Uncle Mac. We’ll lose for sure.”
Mac cracked his knuckles. The kid was right.
“Well, he tries and that’s what counts.”
“Not if we’re going to lose.”
“Quit babying the kid and let’s get on with the game!”
Mac stilled, his hand on Liam’s shoulder, fingers digging in as everything inside him froze.
Un-fucking-believable. Would he really…
“Uncle Mac, you’re hurting me,” Liam whispered hoarsely.
It was enough to snap Mackenzie back into focus and dropped his hand.
“Is that him?” Liam said, eyes huge as he stared up at his uncle.
“That’s him.”
Liam peered around Mac, one hand gripping the ball, the other shoving the brim of his cap back. He dug into the pitcher’s plate once more and exhaled. “He doesn’t look that mean.”
“No,” Mac said carefully, trying to keep his temper in check. “He doesn’t.”
“My dad doesn’t either.”
Mac stared down into his past, and that temper that was festering inside him boiled. It rolled over and shot through him in one hard thrust.
“Are you okay, Uncle Mac?”
He nodded and lied. “Yep. So, we gonna do this kid? Are you going to get this done?”
Liam gripped the ball. “I’m going to get this done for you, Uncle Mac.”
“Okay.” Mac squeezed his nephew’s shoulder and then turned back toward the dugout. He avoided the stands because he was pretty sure that as soon as he laid eyes on his father, he was going to lose it. And he didn’t want to lose it here.
Not here.
“You alright?” Cain asked.
“No, but we’ve got a game to get through.”
And they did.
Liam managed to pull it together. He struck out the next three batters, leaving the players on base stranded. The boys rallied at their last at bat, and by the time the game was over, they’d pulled ahead by one run.
The entire time, Mackenzie felt his father’s eyes on him—boring into him like a goddamn parasite—and when he finally glanced up and met his gaze, the rage that took hold of Mac was hard to describe. He’d never felt it so intensely before. It was all consuming. It was ugly and harsh, and it left him trembling.
Ben Draper thought he could waltz back into Crystal Lake and pick up where he left off.
His father stood just behind their dugout, his arm around Lila’s shoulders. “Nice comeback, Liam. I see you’ve got some of your granddad’s talent.”
Liam stood beside Mackenzie and remained silent.
Ben’s mouth tightened. “I’m talking to you, boy. Show some respect.”
Mac recognized the look in his father’s eyes and knew that Ben was looking to get into it. He clenched his hands together, envisioning his fist connecting with his father’s face. Christ, that would make him feel good.
A flash of blond drew his attention and clear, blue eyes centered him. They pulled him in and calmed his soul.
The moment passed and Mac tugged on Liam’s arm. “Come on, kid. You and your mother can stay with me tonight.”
“He’s not worth it,” Cain said as he started forward.
“I know,” Mac replied. “I’m good.”
And he was good. He was real good up until the moment he reached his sister in the parking lot. Lily was with her, and the two of them looked worried and upset.
“Did he touch you?” Mac tried to hold his temper in check, but it was damn hard.
Becca shook her head. “No, but I don’t…I don’t know what to do. Mom wants us there, but I don’t think I can stay at home. Not if he’s back, and she just…she just refuses to understand. She thinks that this time he’ll be good, that he’s miraculously become this man she’s always known he could be. She’s so far into denial that I don’t think she’ll ever come back. Mac, he’ll hurt her again.”
“I know.” He turned to Lily. “Can you take Liam to my place?”
“No!” Liam yanked on Mac’s arm. “I don’t want to go without Mom. Please, Uncle Mac. Don’t make me.”
Mackenzie recognized the fierce need to protect in his nephew’s eyes and looked at his sister because he didn’t know what to do. Christ, he just didn’t know what to do. His first instinct was to say no, to make Lily take Liam away from all the ugliness coming down on his head, but was that the right call? Was sheltering him from reality the way to go?
As it turned out, none of it mattered anyway.
“What the hell are you all bellyaching for? Get your asses home and be quick about it. Your mother and I have some news.”
Liam’s eyes went as big and as round as a silver dollar. Lily reached for him, and Becca moved in front of him, her body shielding her son from the monster behind them.
Mac turned around. “Back off, Ben.”
His father laughed, a cold, dry sort of thing that rattled his chest and started a coughing fit. Lila held on to his arm, and it was all Mackenzie could do not to tear her away from him.
“I see that fancy job of yours and all that city living haven’t taught you an ounce of respect.” Ben sneered, his eyes narrowing to twin slits of emerald as he moved from Mac to Becca. “I told you to get your ass home, girl. I don’t care how old you are, if you’re living with me, you’re going to abide by my rules. And when I say get your butt home for a family meeting, I don’t mean in a few hours or tomorrow. I mean now.”
Becca shook her head and whispered, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Oh, Becs,” Lila said softly. “Please. Things will be different now.”
Ben stared at his children for the longest time and then shrugged. “That’s fine, Lila. I don’t want her little bastard hanging around anyway.”
Lila Draper’s face crumpled, and she started to cry, and if Mackenzie thought he couldn’t hate his father any more than he already did, he was sadly mistaken.
As Ben tugged on his wife’s arm and ordered her to the car, he paused, his hard, green eyes on Lily, a lecherous and disgusting smile stretching his lips wide.
“So, I’m guessing you’re Mackenzie’s new whore?”
That was all it took. Something snapped inside Mackenzie, and the roaring in his ears moved him forward. The pain in his heart pushed forward.
Nothing could have stopped him. Not Cain or Jake.
And certainly not the woman who tugged on his arm. The woman he sent flying when he took a run at his father.