Summer Love by Piper Rayne

Chapter Five

An hour later Zoey’s head was spinning like a top. She and Mack were sitting at her kitchen table, while he went through the list of things she need to fix in order to get the Westfalia up to scratch. It was… a lot.

But a long list wasn’t going to stop her. People around here might still see her as the rebellious teenage girl with the rainbow hair, Doc Martens, and nose ring who was always skipping school or getting sent to the principal’s office. But that wasn’t who she was anymore. Okay, sure, she still had the colourful hair that changed whenever a whim took hold of her and yeah, she still loved adding to her collection of Docs. But she’d lost the nose ring along with most of the pent-up anger that had driven her to rebel.

In fact, the best thing she’d ever done in her life was making peace with her childhood not being perfect. She’d also made peace with the fact that her mother wasn’t interested in a relationship with her and that getting along with her father was going to take some work.

That was all fine.

Because Zoey knew the power of focusing on now. On rising above criticism and learning to forgive and being the best you that you could be. That’s how she lived her life—focusing on the positive.

“How’s your head feeling?” Mack asked with a hint of a smile on his lips.

He was standing in her kitchen, putting the coffee cups in the sink and looking like the snack he was. Yesterday he’d had that sexy, dirty look going on with stubble and a clingy T-shirt and grimy work boots. Zoey was a fan of that look. Chef’s kiss, A+ and gold stars all ’round. Yet she was equally a fan of Mack’s cleaned-up look, too—worn-in jeans, clean-shaven jaw, citrus shampoo scent mixed with a hint of woodsy deliciousness.

“Full,” she admitted. “But I’m ready for the challenge. I know you think I jump headfirst into everything without any planning, but I really have thought this through.”

Even Gwen thought she’d jumped in headfirst—but the truth was, Zoey had been craving a change for some time. She’d squirrelled away some savings and when she and Gwen had gone to the pub, the idea of the dessert food truck had bubbled up in their conversation. Zoey knew immediately it was the opportunity she’d been looking for.

“Good,” Mack replied. “Because you’re going to need it.”

She watched as he washed the coffee cups with the same level of care and attention he gave to all things. He was like the antithesis of the bad boy—he cared about his family, worked hard, was an upstanding citizen, always took the safe route.

Why did she find that so attractive?

Maybe it was something to do with the fact that she could see how his care and meticulous attention to detail would translate very well into the bedroom. Never before had she been jealous of a cup, but as she watched him dry one with a tea towel, his strong hands getting into every little corner and crevice, that’s exactly what she was.

She wanted to be handled by him.

“What?” he asked, his gaze sliding over to her as though he sensed her scrutiny.

“Have you ever made a mistake in your life, Mack? I’ve always wondered that.” She leaned against the counter next to him.

“Have I ever made a mistake?” He laughed and the sound was deep and rumbly and wonderful. “Do you mean am I actually human and not a robot?”

“I have heard you say bleep bloop bleep when you think no one is listening,” she teased.

He turned so they were facing one another. The house was still and quiet, and outside the trees shuddered in the ocean breeze. Somewhere, a kookaburra cackled. There was a thick intimacy in the air and she looked up at Mack, cataloguing the features she knew well enough to paint from memory. Full lashes, strong nose, reluctant smile, and those intense brown eyes.

“For the record,” he said, his voice a little rough. “I am not perfect. Far, far from it.”

“Liar. I bet you fold your underwear and everything.”

“Zo, you have me on a pedestal and I don’t deserve to be there. Truly.”

Was that true? Did she have him on a pedestal? It was hard not to when she’d always looked up to him. Admired him.

There was a period of time, when Zoey was seventeen, that Sean had taken off to deal with his own demons, and Mack had been there for her. He’d checked on her every few days, came to make sure the fridge was stocked, and changed her lightbulbs when they blew. He’d been the one to turn up on her birthday with a cake when she had felt utterly and hopelessly alone. There’d been times when it felt like he was the only person in the world who cared about her.

But she also wanted to shake that image out of his head. She wasn’t a girl who needed a protector anymore. She wasn’t someone who needed saving. She’d worked hard to save herself.

“Well you have me in a box and I don’t deserve to be there.”

He blinked. “I don’t have you in a box.”

“Yes, you do.” She nodded. “You think I’m a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Not true.”

“You think I’m immature and impulsive. You think because of the way I act and the things I want that I’m setting myself up for failure.”

“What do you want?”

The question felt like he’d pulled the pin on a grenade. Zoey sucked in a breath and counted out the seconds. One, two, three…

But her answer remained the same.

You.

She leaned into him, her hand coming to his chest. Her fingertips delighted in the contrast between the solid wall of muscle beneath the touchable cotton of his T-shirt. Like everything about him, it was a perfect dichotomy of hard and soft. Because Mack encompassed both elements—at times he was rigid and overbearing and yes, even pigheaded. But under that was a deep well of goodness that he showered on those he loved.

You think he loves you? Responsibility and love are not the same thing.

But as he closed his hand over hers, warmth in his touch and fire in his whisky eyes, Zoey released her doubts into the world. She would prove to him, like she would prove to everyone else in Patterson’s Bluff, that she was a strong, smart woman capable of making good decisions.

And right now, good decisions involved kissing Mack.

Rising up on her tiptoes, she wound her free arm around his neck and pressed her body to his. “This is what I want.”

“Zoey…” His breath was ragged as the cliff-faces that lined their town.

She brought her other hand around his neck and left him no choice but to respond. Would he push her away or pull her closer?

His hands skimmed along her hips, his thumbs smoothing up and over the waistband of her skirt to brush against her bare skin. Her heart thundered in her chest. For so many years she’d dreamed about this moment—fantasised about it, sketching into the darkness as she lay awake at night.

“You asked what I wanted,” she whispered. “And it’s this. It’s always been this.”

His eyes were dark and smoky, and he lowered his head so that his lips hovered inches from hers. She felt his hands tighten at her hips, felt the tension rolling off him in waves. He wanted her too. For the first time ever, she knew she wasn’t the only one who wanted this to happen.

The slamming of a car door outside was like someone firing off a rifle into the quiet air. Mack jumped, startled, and snatched his hands away from her as if he’d been burned.

No, no, no!

The moment was shattered. Out of the corner of her eye, Zoey saw Sean striding up the driveway. Mack turned away from her, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“I should get going,” he said.

She nodded, biting down on her lip to keep a protest inside. “Sure.”

Mack headed outside and she watched him and Sean chatting and laughing next to the ugly green food truck. It was like the almost-kiss never happened.

But if Mr. Too Sensible For His Own Good thought she wasn’t going to bring this up the next time she had the chance, then he was sorely mistaken.