Speaking of Love Read online

  “Yeah.” He grabbed a bottle of water. “How did you sleep?”

  “Pretty good,” she said. “Once I finally made it to my room.”

  “You and Jeremy were up late?”

  Her mug slipped between her fingers. She gripped it before it fell. “No, no, I didn’t mean…” She trailed off, turning her back to the warm fire. She hated the fact that she got completely tongue-tied when she was nervous. She hated worse that she was speechless in front of Rick. That had to change.

  “It’s funny, ya know,” she said, practically to herself.

  Rick unzipped his coat and peeled it off. “What’s funny?”

  “I’m a debate coach, my life revolves around words, I’ve given speeches in front of hundreds of people…and yet I still can’t seem to talk to you.”

  Rick chuckled and walked toward her. “In the newspaper business, that’s what we call irony.”

  “Well, in the real world, we call it unacceptable.” Mac leaned against the back of the couch. “And I call it cowardly.”

  “Careful,” Rick said, leaning on the couch next to her. “That’s Mackenzie Simms you’re talking about.”

  She smiled, already feeling more comfortable in his presence. “Obviously, I haven’t talked to Brandy. She needs to know, Rick, before anything happens.” She paused and waited for Rick to nod. After he did, she went on. “So I’ve decided to just do it on the plane ride home. It’s a ninety-minute flight. That’s enough time, don’t you think?”

  Rick’s brow wrinkled. “Um, I’m not sure I follow.”

  Mac mentally slapped herself. Again with the half communications. She was getting tired of her own elusiveness. She’d be better off to say everything at once, no interruptions.

  “Morning!”

  They both jumped when Brandy bounced into the room.

  “Kinzy. Rick.” She smiled, grabbed a mug, and perched on a stool.

  Mac flashed an apologetic look toward Rick then pushed herself away from the couch. “Want some eggs?” she asked, pulling a frying pan out of a drawer. When Rick walked up behind Brandy, a picture of last night’s dream suddenly flashed before Mac’s eyes. Only it hadn’t been Mac kissing Rick, it had been her cousin.

  “You can’t make eggs,” Brandy said, reaching for the pan. “Here, let me.”

  “Have you checked in at work?” Mac said to her, keeping a firm grasp on the handle of the pan, unsure yet if she was about to use it as a weapon. “You asked me to remind you first thing this morning.”

  “Oh, thanks!” Brandy grabbed her cell. “Be right back.”

  Mac placed the frying pan on the stove and turned on the flame. “I do know how to scramble eggs,” she said to Rick.

  “You don’t have to. I know you don’t like to cook.”

  “I don’t mind. If you want some.”

  “Sure. Thank you. Can I help?” He moved to the fridge.

  Mac smiled at him. Oh, why hadn’t she realized what an amazing man he was weeks ago? Under the current circumstances, it would be tremendously inappropriate to follow her instincts, walk over, throw her arms around him and—

  “About that,” Rick suddenly said, pulling out a carton of eggs.

  “About what?” Mac asked, blinking back a very vivid image in her mind. “We weren’t talking.”

  He looked confused. After a moment, he seemed to realize something and shook his head. “Sorry.” A little smile appeared on his lips. “I guess I was thinking, and thought we were—”

  “Talking?” Mac inserted.

  Rick laughed and ran his free hand though his hair. “Yeah. And other things.”

  She leaned against the counter. “In your mind, what were we just doing?”

  Rick lowered his chin and let out a quiet laugh, making Mac’s heart flutter.

  “I’ll take some of those,” Jeremy said, lumbering into the kitchen. He took a seat at the bar where Brandy had been and ran his hands over his face, making a rather ape-like noise. “Are you making enough for everyone?” he asked.

  As Mac regarded the two men, the contrast between Jeremy and Rick couldn’t have been greater. She’d never appreciated Rick more.

  Rick was holding the open egg carton in front of her. “So, Mac, have you thought any more about what we discussed the other night?”

  Mac stared at him, hand hovering over the eggs, unsure what she should say. How could Rick bring up this subject in front of Jeremy when she hadn’t even had two seconds to talk to Brandy?

  “About the event at the park,” Rick continued. Mac blew out her held breath. “I called the paper last night and e-mailed the ad. It’s ready to run online today and then in the paper tomorrow through Thursday. I just need you to say the word for it to go live.”

  Mac lowered the spatula and looked at him. “You wrote it?”

  “It’s my job.” He took a beat before adding a bit softer, “Of course I wrote your ad, Mac.”

  …

  “What ad?” Brandy asked as she came back into the room, carrying a silver cell phone.

  “About Lincoln Park,” Rick said, taking the empty shells as Mac cracked them, making sure he touched her hand every time. “There’s going to be a demonstration.”

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to use that term,” Mac said, sending him a look.

  Rick couldn’t help laughing. “You’re right. A friendly gathering.” He turned to the others to explain. “Since the city council is voting on Thursday night about selling part of the park to a developer, we think it would be a great idea to have a…a friendly gathering earlier that day, get the town out to the park.”

  “It was your idea,” Mac said.

  Rick looked at her while she whisked the eggs. “But I’m not the one who can do it,” he said. “You’re the orator, you’re the one who is going to get Franklin to rally behind you. I’m just running a piece to advertise it. The rest is up to you.”

  “You’re really going to give a speech?” Brandy asked.

  “That’s the plan.” A sly, little grin appeared on Mac’s lips as she gazed off into the distance.

  Rick loved seeing the gleam in her eyes. He could tell she was already strategizing.

  “Cool,” Brandy said. “I’ll have to come for moral support. Are you giving a speech, too?” she asked Rick.

  He shook his head. “No way.” He gestured at Mac, who was scooping scrambled eggs onto a plate. “That’s her world. I’ll count myself lucky to just be in the audience, watching the magic.”

  When Rick heard Mac’s quiet laugh, he smiled.

  “What makes you think one speech will do any good?” Jeremy asked. Rick stared at him, wanting to punch him in the face. “A company big enough to buy up a whole park must be pretty powerful.”

  “It’s my father’s company,” Rick couldn’t help saying. He hesitated, feeling the desire to say more, to show Mac exactly where his loyalties lay. “And when the council votes on Thursday, he’s going to lose.”

  When Mac looked at him, her excited grin was back. That was reward enough. For now.

  “You can tell me all about it on the flight home,” Brandy said to Mac, before gasping and whirling around to Rick. “Oh! Or I can drive home with you. I can help you plan your end of it, the publicity.” She tugged at his sleeve. “How fun would that be?”

  Yeah, that was just what he needed—or not. Five more hours of Brandy. Not that she wasn’t a nice person; he simply knew that nothing romantic would ever happen between them. Not as long as Mackenzie Simms or any cloned versions of Mackenzie Simms walked the planet.

  “Sorry, but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Rick said, trying not to come across as too harsh, although there was a certain amount of firmness he was attempting to convey. “It’s a five hour drive back to Franklin, and I have to stop for work along the way. Thanks, though.” He looked at the clock on the wall. “In fact, the taxi to the airport is going to be here soon.”

  “Are you packed?” Mac asked Jeremy, who replied with a gru
nt. “You?” she asked Brandy.

  Without the slightest twinge of guilt, Rick hoped that Brandy would be spending their last hour up in her room and out of his hair, leaving him alone with Mac. Well, not totally alone. But by the way Jeremy was hovering over his plate, he was in a food coma anyway.

  “You’ll eat this before you go?” Mac said, handing Rick a plate of eggs. They looked a little pitiful, but he took them with a big smile.

  “Thanks.” He sat on the stool next to Jeremy and began eating. A side of hot sauce might help.

  “You’ll drive safely,” Mac said, running the pan under hot water.

  Rick smiled. “I will.”

  He already missed the sight of her. Spending every waking minute of the last two days in her company made it nearly impossible to consider the idea of not seeing her until Thursday at Lincoln Park.

  “Well, I better get dressed,” Mac said. She went to leave but then turned back and pointed at him. “You got the tire on your truck completely fixed, right?”

  Rick laughed. “Yes.”

  “And the gas tank is full and everything?”

  He laughed again. “Yes, and everything.”

  “Jeez, Mac,” Brandy said, reaching for her cell when it started chirping. “You sound like a nagging girlfriend.” Phone to her ear, she backed up into the living room.

  “I wish you were coming with me, Mac.” He hadn’t meant to say them, the soft words just spilled out of Rick’s mouth in a rush. But Mac kept walking. He didn’t know if she’d even heard him. When Jeremy scraped his fork across his plate, Rick gritted his teeth.

  …

  Mac felt like it was best to wait until the plane had reached its cruising altitude before she talked about anything serious with Brandy. Maybe she was stalling, or maybe she was hoping her cousin would fall instantly in love with the curly-haired man on the other side of the aisle, and bringing up Rick would be a moot point.

  No such luck; the curly-haired man turned out to be enamored with his iPad and never gave Brandy a second glance, which irritated Mac. What was equally irritating was Jeremy continuously bumping Mac’s seat from his place right behind her.

  “So, are you working tomorrow?” Mac asked Brandy, after the pilot announced that it was now safe to play Words with Friends.

  Brandy flipped a page of the glossy magazine on her lap. “Not until the afternoon. Stretch out my weekend a little longer.”

  “That’s nice,” Mac said with a smile, thinking. “The, uh, sweater you were wearing last night was really cute.” Nice, just ease into the conversation.

  “Thanks. It was new.” Brandy grinned and flipped another page. “Bought especially for the occasion.”

  “Huh.”

  Okay, what next? Maybe something like: Sorry, Brandy, that I didn’t realize it a week ago…but I’m pretty sure Rick is the man of my dreams, and would you mind terribly backing off completely?

  Why not? Just say it, straight out. Subtlety probably wouldn’t work with Brandy, anyway. And Mac was not about to leave an inch for miscommunication.

  Mac looked out the window at the pearly morning clouds, thought of Rick, and smiled.

  After a deep breath of preparation, she turned to Brandy. “So,” she began, tapping her hand, a clue that she wanted to talk.

  Brandy took the hint and closed the magazine. “So?”

  Stay strong, Simms. Eye on the prize.

  “So, um, s-sorry…about cutting your weekend short.” Coward. “You know, because of the storm—Jeremy!” Mac whipped around and stuck her head between the two seats to glare at him. “Would you mind not grinding your knee into my back?” She gestured at the vacant seat next to him. “Spread out that way.”

  But Jeremy was wearing ear buds and thumbing through the free Sky Mall mag. Mac huffed and sat back in her seat.

  “What do you mean?” Brandy asked.

  Mac sighed, already feeling exasperated, and they hadn’t even gotten to the subject yet. “Well, you going all that way out to the cabin for just one day.” She shrugged. “Not really worth the effort, right?”

  “I had the best time, Kinz.”

  “You did?”

  Brandy looked surprised. “Didn’t you?”

  Mac’s mind wandered to Rick’s hand on the sides of her neck, the loving look in his eye when they were together. “It…had its moments,” she couldn’t help saying.

  “The weather was perfect,” Brandy continued, “the cabin’s a dream, and Rick was a complete gentleman.”

  “Yeah,” Mac said. “He prides himself on his etiquette. He’s a natural host.”

  Well, at least they were talking about Rick now. Only a few words, a few more seconds, and it would all be out there.

  “Not just that,” Brandy said. “I mean, even when we kissed, he didn’t try to take advantage of me. Complete gentleman.”

  Mac stared at her cousin.

  “Kissed?” she managed to say. “When?”

  “Last night. He came up to”—Brandy lowered her eyes, demurely—“tuck me in.”

  “In your room? Last night?”

  “It was pretty amazing.”

  “Rick kissed you?” Mac repeated, making sure she’d heard correctly. “Last night?”

  Brandy was smiling now. “I swear, I felt it all the way through my nighty.”

  Mac felt ill. The image of Rick and Brandy together. Last night. Kissing up in that private bedroom. Brandy wearing something probably impossibly skimpy. And impossibly irresistible…to Rick, evidently.

  Mac eyed the little white barf bag in the seat pocket in front of her, wondering if she would need it. “Wow,” she muttered, very unenthusiastically, “that’s…wow.”

  “I know.” Brandy inhaled then exhaled dreamily. “It totally sucks that I won’t see him until Thursday.” Mac felt an elbow hit her ribs. “Good thing you’re doing that speech thing, or we would’ve had to wait till next weekend.”

  “Yeah,” Mac said, staring straight ahead.

  What had Rick been doing over breakfast that morning…just a few hours ago? He’d practically announced that he’d written the piece for the newspaper to advertise the Lincoln Park rally. He hadn’t just assigned it but had written it himself. Hadn’t that meant something? She’d thought all the things they’d said to each other that morning and the little looks they’d exchanged were an understanding about what would be waiting when they got home.

  But, apparently, Mac had been dead wrong. He’d just been doing his job. And kissing Brandy.

  She cursed under her breath. It served her right for not saying exactly what was on her mind in the first place, when she had a chance.

  “I think I’m going to sit with Jeremy for a while,” Mac said, undoing her seat belt, needing to get the hell away from her cousin before she pushed her through the emergency exit window.

  Mac tripped over Brandy’s long legs and stumbled out into the aisle. When she sat in the seat next to Jeremy, he pulled out his ear buds, grabbed her hand, and grinned. It didn’t make Mac feel better.

  …

  It had been four days since they’d spoken, but to Rick, it felt like four weeks. An excruciating four weeks.

  Not that he hadn’t tried reaching her—he must’ve left Mac ten voice mails since watching her airport-bound taxi drive away on Sunday morning. He’d even gone to her apartment, but she didn’t answer. Her car wasn’t in its usual spot, or maybe it was parked somewhere else. Either way, Rick could’ve sworn he’d heard someone inside. After knocking for ten minutes, he finally left.

  Who he had heard from was Brandy. More than a few times. He took her third call on Sunday afternoon, while he was still driving back to Franklin from the cabin. As politely as possible, he told her it wasn’t going to happen. She seemed to take it okay—no threats of boiling bunnies—and he said he’d see her Thursday at Lincoln Park if she decided to come support Mac. She didn’t call him again. After a twinge of guilt, he felt more than relieved to be done with it.

  R
ick grabbed his carrier bag from the back seat of his SUV, made sure he had his digital camera and a separate tape recorder, shut his car door, and walked across the grass toward the pavilion. Even a good two hours before kick-off, there were a few people already gathered under the afternoon sunshine. It was a good sign.

  “Hey.”

  When he turned around, Rick was surprised to see Charlie coming in his direction toward the stage, carrying what looked like a home karaoke machine in one hand and two folding chairs in the other.

  “Hey,” Rick said, strolling beside Charlie. “Why are you here so early?”

  He lifted the machine by the handle. “I’m the one-man road crew.”

  When they made it to the pavilion, Rick frowned down at the little machine and the toy mic attached to it. “Is that all they’re using as a sound system?” he asked.

  Charlie shrugged. “Guess so.”

  Talk about grassroots. Rick was already on the phone. In twenty minutes, there would be two standing mics and four speakers. He wished he could do more.

  “That’s generous,” Charlie said, pushing the boom box to the back corner of the stage.

  “It’s the least I can do,” Rick replied. And he wasn’t doing it to be generous. He had resources, so why not use them? “Do you think I should get some barricades, too?” he asked Charlie as he stood center stage, looking out to where a crowd would hopefully be gathered soon. “Or maybe some velvet ropes?”

  “Velvet ropes?” Charlie repeated. “Don’t you think that’s overkill? Mac was planning on using a megaphone until Tess found this old karaoke machine at her music school.”

  Rick shook his head, gazing out at the park. “Mac deserves the best,” he said, mostly to himself. After a moment, he stepped down from the stage, took a few paces onto the grass, and turned around. Looking up at the stage, he folded his arms and tapped his chin, imagining Mac standing up there.

  “What are you doing?”

  Rick blinked and looked at Charlie. “Nothing, just… Do you know where Mac is? I assumed she would already be here.”

  Charlie looked around, like he expected Mac to suddenly materialize out of thin air. “She was. Setting up,” he said.