Summer Love by Piper Rayne

Chapter Two

Brian “Mack” MacDermot dragged a hand across his forehead, wishing he’d opted for shorts instead of jeans. Late summer was always like that—just when you thought it was cooling down, you’d get surprised by a scorcher. In addition to feeling the heat, he was dusty and grimy from spending a day on the site of a new multi-residential construction project. His boss, however, looked completely unfazed by the heat and given he was wearing a suit, that was nothing short of a miracle.

“Don’t let Steve get in your head,” his boss, Nick Walters, said as he shut the door on Mack’s Holden Commodore ute. They’d driven to the site together since it was over an hour away, and now they’d returned to Mack’s place so Nick could pick up his car. “He’s got his eye on the deadlines, which I pay him for. And you’re being a stickler for the details, which I pay you for.”

“So you admit to paying us to butt heads,” Mack replied with a snort.

“Basically.” Nick grinned. “I want it done quick, but I also want it done right.”

Mack was the “done right” part of that equation and his relationship not only with Steve but all the project managers could be tense at times. Despite Nick making it clear that they were part of the same team, Mack was the person who highlighted issues and shortcomings, which didn’t always make him a welcome figure on site. Some of that also had to do with Mack’s no-BS attitude. Putting lipstick on a pig never helped anybody, as far as he was concerned, and so if someone had stuffed up, he didn’t hesitate to call it out.

“I appreciate you being hard-headed enough to go toe-to-toe with him,” Nick added. “I know he intimidates the crap out of most of the guys, but he’s a good bloke.”

A good bloke who had to be over six foot four, was covered in tats, and had a beard that wouldn’t look out of place in a motorcycle gang, mind you. But Mack wasn’t the kind of guy who was easily intimidated. He’d been blessed with his father’s quiet yet unshakable confidence, and no amount of bluster would budge him from a decision. Not even Steve getting up in his face.

“I’ve got your back, Nick. I’d never sign off on anything unless I was certain it was safe.”

“Good man.” Nick shrugged out of his charcoal suit jacket and slung it over one arm. He wasn’t wearing a tie, but he still exuded that stylish look that had most women around town—and some guys—going gaga over him.

Mack, on the other hand, knew he lacked his boss’s polish. He was a salt of the earth type who was more than happy getting his hands dirty doing the job he loved, or working on some furniture restoration in his shed. Simple things, maybe, but he liked being good with his hands.

As he and Nick were finishing up their conversation about plans for the following week, the sound of a motorcycle cut through the air. It had a distinctive rumble and Mack knew exactly who was riding up his street even before the bike came into view and he saw the telltale flutter of multicoloured hair from underneath a helmet.

Zoey Hutcherson.

She had a leather jacket on top, but her legs were bare between the hem of a frayed pair of denim shorts and some chunky black leather riding boots. How many times had he told her to put all her leathers on if she was going for a ride? That was Zoey in a nutshell. Reckless. Rebellious. Unafraid of any bloody thing that might hurt her.

But he’d be lying through his teeth if he said there wasn’t something deeply appealing about the sight of her smooth, tanned legs straddling the bike and all that glorious purple, green and blue hair flying like streamers behind her. The girl was heartbreak waiting to happen.

Woman,he corrected himself. Zoey Hutcherson left girlhood behind quite some time ago.

“You might want to pick your jaw up off the ground before she gets here,” Nick said, chuckling.

“I’m not staring.”

“Nah, and wombats don’t shit cubes, right?”

Mack snorted. “Since when are you an expert on wombat excrement?”

“I’ve told you before, young Padawan, I know everything.” Nick clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, in all your three extra years of life you’ve gained so much wisdom,” Mack drawled. “Teach me, master.”

Nick laughed and headed off with a wave. Every day Mack was grateful he got to work for someone he considered a friend as well as a boss. It sure made dealing with the Steves of the world a little bit easier.

Zoey’s bike slowed as she approached Mack’s house and he half-willed her to keep on driving. Half, because only his brain was backing that desire. Other parts of him, namely those of a more southern nature, were hoping she’d bring those sweet legs walking right up to him. That push and pull encompassed his entire relationship with his best mate’s little sister—and it was the very reason he’d never given in to his attraction to her, because the head on his shoulders was the only one that got a say in the matter.

In any matter.

Zoey killed the engine and swung her leg around the back of the bike, leaving Mack’s mouth feeling drier than a summer’s day. That feeling only intensified when she pulled her helmet off and shook her colourful hair, sending it tumbling around her shoulders.

“Hey Mack, I hope it’s okay that I stopped by.” She shot him a smile as she unzipped her leather jacket, revealing a fitted white T-shirt underneath.

He cleared his throat. “Sure. What’s up?”

She stashed the helmet under one arm and opened up a storage box attached to the back of the bike. When she pulled out a plastic container with a handle, Mack raised an eyebrow. Why was Zoey bringing him food?

This couldn’t be good.

Her gaze met his, her full lips curving into a wicked smile that confirmed his fears. “I’ve come to seduce you… with sugar.”