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Marriage On The Cards: Marry Me, Mackenzie! / A Proposal Worth Millions / Heart Surgeon, Hero...Husband?
Marriage On The Cards: Marry Me, Mackenzie! / A Proposal Worth Millions / Heart Surgeon, Hero...Husband?

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Marriage On The Cards: Marry Me, Mackenzie! / A Proposal Worth Millions / Heart Surgeon, Hero...Husband?

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His fingers in her hair, his lips on her lips, Dylan began to move. But, slowly, as if he wanted to savor the moment, as if he didn’t want this moment to end too soon. His long, deep strokes were exactly what her body had been craving. She lifted her hips to meet him halfway, to take more of him in.

“Wrap your legs around me.” Dylan gently bit down on her earlobe.

She wrapped her legs around him, held on to his biceps. Dylan locked his arms to hold himself above her; he closed his eyes and let her watch him. They were starting to learn each other’s bodies. Dylan was less cautious now, less gentle, and more demanding and intense. And she liked it. Dylan wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, curled himself around her, and drove his body into hers. And then he drove her right off the edge of reason and straight into the arms of ecstasy. All of the tension, all of the anticipation and frustration and building gave way to orgasmic ripples pinging pleasure signals all over her body. Her loud, vocal orgasm triggered Dylan’s. He thrust into her one last time, deep and hard, and then groaned loudly.

Dylan’s breathing was heavy, his body felt heavy atop hers. He was still between her thighs, where she felt raw and wet. Dylan kissed her on the neck; he kissed her on the lips. He pulled the covers up over their still-connected bodies and held her tightly in his arms as if he sensed that she needed that reassuring pressure. She felt emotions, out of nowhere, surge through her. Dylan had just given her an amazing gift—her first real orgasm. After his breathing returned to normal, Dylan propped himself up on one arm so he could look at her.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, still feeling a bit scandalized by her own behavior. She had never been so...vocal...in bed before. But she had to admit, that it had been...liberating.

“I should take care of this...” He reached down between them, secured the condom between his fingers, and then slowly pulled out of her.

Dylan returned to the bed quickly, propped himself up on the pillows and opened his arms for her.

“Come here. Let me hold you.”

Mackenzie wanted to be close to him; she wanted to be in his arms after the lovemaking they had just shared. Dylan wrapped his arms around her, held her tight and sighed like a satisfied, contented man.

“This is a great way to wake up...” Dylan slid his fingers into her hair, a smile in his voice. “You’re a wildcat...”

Mackenzie ran her fingers through his chest hair, smiled but kept quiet.

“I don’t think anyone has surprised me the way you just did...” Dylan kissed the top of her head and rubbed her arm. “Hey...what are you doing today?”

“No plans, really. The bakery’s closed on Sundays and I don’t pick up Hope from her friend’s house until four.”

“And I already called Pegasus and told them that I wouldn’t be there today, so my day is free. Why don’t we spend the day together.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Breakfast, for starters.”

“Agreed...”

“Then, surfing?”

“Negative.”

Dylan laughed. “Okay...the hot tub, then.”

“Uh-uh...I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“Skinny-dipping is encouraged.”

“I never negotiate on an empty stomach. Let’s eat first and then we’ll talk.”

* * *

Dylan was an organized, clean cook. She would drive him nuts; her bakery was spotless, but when she baked, she was a whirlwind—a messy whirlwind.

“You really do have a little OCD thing happening, don’t you?” Mackenzie observed Dylan cleaning the counter throughout the cooking process.

“I guess. I just like things to be clean, organized. What’s wrong with that?” Dylan twisted the rag dry and then dropped it over the faucet.

“We could never get married,” Mackenzie said without thinking.

Really? You just brought up marriage?

“Oh, yeah?” Dylan flipped over the pancakes. “Why not?”

“Not that I was suggesting that I think that we should get married. It was just an observation...”

“You still haven’t told me why not...”

“In the hypothetical?”

“If you’d like...” Dylan leaned back against the counter, crossed his arms in front of him.

“You are obviously a neat freak. And I am...not a neat freak.”

“I know.” Dylan smiled at her, set her heart fluttering. “I’ve seen your office, remember?”

“That’s right.” Mackenzie nodded. “So...you see my point?”

“No. I don’t.” Dylan put a stack of pancakes on a plate for her. “I have a maid. Problem solved.”

Mackenzie could never imagine her life with a maid, which was yet another difference between them, but she decided to move on to a different subject. Dylan saturated her pancakes in butter and syrup, piled crispy bacon onto her plate and served her hot coffee. He ignored her calorie concerns, citing that everyone should allow themselves to have at least one cheat day a week and this was it. His logic, and the fact that he seemed to like a woman with a good appetite, encouraged her to devour the pancakes along with a second helping of bacon.

“I really don’t normally eat like this,” Mackenzie said, looking guiltily at her near-empty plate.

“Do you want more?” Dylan asked. “There’re a couple of pieces of bacon left.”

Mackenzie pushed her plate away from her and cringed. “Uh-uh...no. I’ve eaten too much already.”

Dylan had managed to charm her into complacency and all she could think of now was how many calories she had just consumed.

“Hey...” Dylan leaned on his forearm and stared at her face. “Mackenzie...please stop beating yourself up about the food. Okay? Give yourself permission to have a little fun.”

After they cleaned up after breakfast, Dylan convinced her that the next logical step was to step down into his hot tub.

Mackenzie went to the guest room to change into a pair of Dylan’s boxer briefs and a T-shirt. She called to check on Hope and then quickly sent Ray an I’m OK text message before she emerged from the room wearing Dylan’s makeshift bathing suit.

“I look ridiculous,” she complained to Dylan.

Dylan was in his surf trunks, bare to the waist, and barefoot. “Not to me you don’t.”

Dylan circled behind her and pulled the extra material of the T-shirt toward the back. “Here...let me tie a knot back here or the shirt will float up when you get in the water.”

Now standing in front of her, he eyed her appreciatively. “There. Perfect.”

Mackenzie looked down. Dylan’s adjustment to the outfit pulled the front of the shirt tight over her breasts.

“Was that for my sake or yours?” she asked, half-teasing, half-serious.

“Both...” Dylan wasn’t shy about admiring her with his eyes. “Definitely both.”

She felt self-conscious walking out to Dylan’s hot tub, but once she slipped into the hot, bubbling water, Mackenzie forgot all about her silly outfit. Dylan was right—this was bliss.

“Aaaaah.” Mackenzie sank down farther into the water.

“Uh-huh...didn’t I tell you?” Dylan slid in beside her.

“You did.”

Beneath the water, Dylan reached for her hand. Pleased, she intertwined her fingers with his, dropped her head back, closed her eyes and let her mind go blissfully blank. Time moved but they didn’t. Not for a while. Not until the sun, beating down on her scalp, finally became too hot to bear. Mackenzie sighed deeply, opened her eyes and moved to the middle of the hot tub. Dylan’s interested eyes followed her every move. She leaned back and dipped her hair back into the water so she could cool off her scalp, and to slick her hair back. When she stood up and turned around, Dylan was smiling at her.

“What?” Mackenzie asked. “Why are you grinning at me like a Cheshire cat?”

Dylan’s eyes drifted down to her breasts. “Can’t I admire you?”

Mackenzie followed his gaze. The wet T-shirt had molded itself to her breasts, leaving nothing to the imagination. Mackenzie immediately sunk down in the water to her neck.

“No...” Dylan shook his head. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

Dylan was at her side, his arm around her waist; he kissed her as their bodies floated backward toward the side of the hot tub. Dylan lifted her into his arms, spun around and pulled her onto his lap. Then he kissed her again, his tongue taking possession of her mouth, his hand taking possession of her breast. He was already aroused; she could feel it against her thigh.

“When I take you back upstairs, Mackenzie...” Dylan whispered sensually into her ear. “I don’t want there to be anything between us this time.”

Mackenzie knew that Dylan was referring to the fact that she hadn’t let him take off her top when they had made love. Her body wanted Dylan again, and so did she.

“Dylan...” Mackenzie moaned pleasurably into the sun-warmed skin on his neck. “Take me back upstairs...”

* * *

After they made love for a third time, Mackenzie took a shower, alone, in the guest bathroom. Dylan offered to share his shower with her, but for some reason, even after all of the lovemaking, a shower seemed somehow too...intimate. Mackenzie hurried through her shower, got dressed and made the bed. She tried to arrange the decorative pillows exactly as she had found them but finally gave up.

Dylan was lounging in the den, flipping through TV channels, waiting for her. “What would you like to do with your free afternoon?”

Mackenzie smiled a mischievous smile. “There is something that I’d really like to do.”

“What’s that?”

Mackenzie’s smile widened. “Drive the Corvette.”

She thought that Dylan was going to shut her down immediately. To guys like her brother, Jett, and Dylan, their cars were their babies. And they didn’t let anyone get behind the wheel.

He shocked her when he said, “I’ll let you drive her. We can take her down to Ocean Beach Pier. Have you been to the restaurant on that pier?”

Mackenzie shook her head no.

“Have you ever tried fish tacos?”

She wrinkled her nose distastefully. “No...”

“Then today is your lucky day, Mackenzie!”

They gathered their things and then Dylan handed her the keys to his pride and joy. She slid into the driver’s seat and wrapped her hands around the steering wheel. As she backed out of the garage, she was half expecting him to have a change of heart and scream for her to stop. It didn’t happen. They rolled down the windows, turned on the radio to a classic-rock station and headed to the pier. She wanted to open her up and really test the horsepower under the hood, but she didn’t. The last thing she wanted to do was leave even so much as a scratch on a car this valuable. They parked and walked down to the beach. Dylan’s phone had been ringing and beeping with texts and emails. He finally just shut his phone off and left it in the car. She didn’t ask about who was trying to contact him, but she knew his recent history. He was a single, good-looking guy with deep pockets and a party pad. She didn’t doubt his friends, both male and female, were missing one of their regular spots to party at the beach.

They walked side by side, but Mackenzie wasn’t ready to hold hands in public. They never stopped talking, that’s what she liked about hanging out with Dylan. She wouldn’t have thought that they’d have much to say to each other, but they did. He made her laugh; he was silly and goofy and liked to joke around. He’d never really taken life too seriously when they were kids, and he still didn’t. He still liked to have fun, and he wanted to take her along for that ride.

“Okay...be honest...” Dylan had just demolished five fish tacos. “You shouldn’t have judged, right?”

The Ocean Pier Restaurant was built on the side of the pier. They were sitting at a small table with an incredible view, and Dylan insisted that she, at the very least, take a bite of their famous fish tacos.

Mackenzie chewed the small bite of fish taco thoughtfully.

“Well?” Dylan demanded impatiently. “Awesome, right?”

“It’s...pretty good...” Mackenzie said, glad that she had refused the tacos and stuck with an egg-salad sandwich and water. She was still pretty full from breakfast and she couldn’t just stop worrying about calories because he had encouraged her to do it. Calorie watching was her normal. Dylan, on the other hand, had been happy to tell her during the car ride that making love to her had left him famished.

“Pretty good?” Dylan acted as if she had just stabbed him in the heart. “You’re killing me! These are legendary. Try another bite...”

“No!” She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I wouldn’t dream of taking even one more bite away from you...”

“Okay...” He was perfectly happy to polish off the rest by himself. “Are you sure?”

The taco had left a bad taste in her mouth that couldn’t be washed away with water alone. She nodded yes while she dug through her tote to find her mints.

They finished their lunch, cleared their table and stepped out onto the pier. Dylan looked around. “Are you up for a walk?”

“Sure,” she agreed. They had walked a little ways, when he gave her a curious look. “I thought you liked me.”

“I do...”

“Then how come you’re so far away?” He offered her his arm.

She took his arm and they strolled together along the pier. When the sun felt a little too strong on her face, the salty mist from the water crashing against the pier seemed to come just at the right time when her skin felt too hot. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been to the pier. She had certainly never been here on a date. In this moment, she was content; happy to be walking beside Dylan.

At the end of the pier, Dylan asked, “Do you want to head back or sit down on one of these benches and people watch?”

“People watch, of course.”

Like an old comfortable couple, they sat together on the bench. Dylan put his arm behind her shoulder; she leaned in just a little bit closer.

“Do you have the photo album with you? The one from last night?”

Mackenzie put her hand on her tote. “Right here.”

“I’d like to finish looking at it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I want to know more about our daughter.”

Our daughter.

Dylan had never used that term before.

Dylan started at the beginning while Mackenzie told him the story behind each picture. Halfway through the album, they came to the pictures that chronicled Hope’s cancer journey.

“Her face is so swollen in this picture. She doesn’t even look like the same kid,” Dylan said. Hope’s face was puffy and round, her head completely bald, her eyebrows gone.

“Steroids,” Mackenzie explained. “She could never seem to get enough food.” Mackenzie pointed to the next picture. “This is when she first got her port put in for chemo. That was a...really bad day.”

Dylan flipped through the rest of the photographs and then went back to the first picture—the one taken the day Hope was born.

“You know that I love her now, Mackenzie.”

Mackenzie nodded. She did know.

“And, I’m...really worried about her. What if she relapses?”

Mackenzie didn’t like to think about that. She put the album in the tote. “Then we fight it. That’s all we can do.”

They stayed at the pier for another hour; before they headed back to the car, Dylan insisted that he take her to his favorite ice-cream shop, which was famous for its waffle ice-cream sandwich. After the ice cream, Dylan drove them back to his place. Climbing out of the low-slung Corvette, Mackenzie couldn’t remember having a better time with a man.

“Do you want to come in for a while? Or do you have to go?”

“I have to go. I pick Hope up at four. School tomorrow.”

On the way back to the car, Dylan made her promise to return the favor and let him drive her vintage Chevy the next time they saw each other.

“I had a really good time with you, Mackenzie. And I know this is going to sound kind of strange, because we have Hope, so I will be seeing you again...but I want to see you again.”

Dylan was leaning against her driver’s door. For the whole entire day, right up until this moment, Mackenzie had felt really good about her decision to deepen the connection with Dylan. But now that she was getting ready to return to reality, her life...doubt was starting to creep in fast and loud.

“Why do I get the feeling something just went wrong here?” Dylan asked suspiciously. Mackenzie’s body language, the expression on her face, had changed. Her eyes, which had been open and willing, were guarded.

“There’s nothing wrong, Dylan,” she lied. “It’s just time for me to get back to real life.”

He hadn’t believed the lie. “I think we should make a date right now. How about if the three of us drive out to Aunt Gerri’s house next Sunday? She’s been asking for both of you.”

“Um...let me check my calendar, okay? And I’ll get back to you.”

“Now, see...I feel like I need to get a commitment out of you...pin you down.” Dylan frowned. “It seems like you’re already having second thoughts about this weekend. I can feel you backing away from me...”

Mackenzie took a small step back. “I don’t think I’m backing away from you...”

“Actually, you just literally did back away from me.”

Dylan reached out, slipped his fingers through her hair to the nape of her neck and brought her lips to his. He kissed her until he felt her take a step back toward him. And he didn’t stop kissing her, until she melted into his arms.

“So...” His lips were still so very close to hers. “Do we have a date?”

“You don’t play fair, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you.” Dylan kissed her again. “Do we have a date?”

“Yes, Dylan.” He was a very persuasive kisser. “We have a date.”

Chapter Eleven

“What do you think?” Mackenzie stood in the doorway of her room feeling naked in the short-sleeved purple blouse. It was Sunday, and they were scheduled to meet up with Dylan in an hour so they could all go out to his aunt’s farm together. She wanted to look presentable, and even though she had been having misgivings about her weekend with Dylan, she wanted to look nice for him, too.

“I picked that out.” Hope was a stylish kid. She loved jewelry and accessories; she cut pictures out of fashion magazines and couldn’t wait to wear makeup. “You look pretty, Mom.”

Mackenzie checked her reflection in the mirror again, tugged on the front of the blouse. It was strange seeing so much of her arms, and they still looked too round for her liking, but lately she’d started to think that she needed to force herself out of her baggy-fashion box. There was no doubt in her mind that Dylan’s regular compliments had boosted her body image. She still had work to do, but at least she was able to finally cut the tags off this blouse and put it on her body. Mackenzie pointed to her reflection in the mirror.

“You look good,” she said, then shut off the bathroom light and headed to the kitchen. She took a quick sip of her strong black coffee before preparing Hope’s morning medicine.

“Did you make your bed?” Mackenzie called out to Hope.

She knew that she was never going to be a complete neat freak like Dylan, but she was starting to think that a little more organization wouldn’t hurt. In fact, she was very proud of the fact that all their dinner dishes had made it directly into the dishwasher without their typical pit stop to the sink.

“Yeah.” Hope showed up looking cute as a bug in a sparkly butterfly T-shirt, cuffed jeans and lavender tennis shoes. “But why’d I have’ta start doing that now?”

Mackenzie held out the pills for Hope. “It wouldn’t hurt us to be a little neater around here...I made mine, too.”

Hope made a face at the pills.

“I know, kiddo. But you gotta take them. Down the hatch.”

Mackenzie handed Hope a glass of grape juice, watched her take her pills. When she was done, Mackenzie rinsed out the glass and put it in the dishwasher.

“You feeling okay today?”

“Uh-huh...” Hope nodded.

Mackenzie and Hope loaded into her Chevy and headed toward the bakery. She had agreed to meet Dylan there and she didn’t want to be late. During the short trip from their house to the bakery, Mackenzie couldn’t seem to get comfortable. She fiddled with the radio, the AC, her seat belt, the neckline of her blouse. She was fidgety and uncomfortable. Anxious. This would be the first time Dylan and she would be seeing each other after their weekend alone. He’d called, but she had made excuses: she was tired, she was working...bad reception, low battery. She just didn’t know what to say to him, so it was just easier to say nothing at all. The farther away she got from the weekend, the more she beat herself up for jumping into bed with him. Yes, her body had been deprived in that area for years, but her brain knew better.

And, as often happened with spur-of-the-moment libido-driven decisions, by Monday night, Mackenzie was marinating in full-blown regret. It had been a terrible idea to sleep with Dylan. Their focus, their only focus, should have been on Hope—not on each other. She needed to tell Dylan how she felt when they were face-to-face and, hopefully, the two of them could agree to refocus their attention on Hope. If the right moment materialized today, she knew that she needed to have a talk with Dylan.

* * *

Dylan arrived at the parking lot behind the bakery ahead of schedule. He was usually early. While he was waiting for Mackenzie and Hope, he decided to try his attorney’s private number. He was surprised when Ben actually answered.

“Hey, Ben! I was planning on leaving you a message.”

“Do you want me to hang up?” Ben asked.

“No.” Dylan laughed. “This is better.”

“What can I do for you, Dylan?”

“I had a chance to look over the papers you emailed. Everything looks good, exactly as we discussed.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Just send a signed copy to the office and we’ll have them in the mail to the mother this week.”

“Actually...that’s what I was calling you about. I’d like to hold off on sending the papers. Just for a little bit.”

“May I ask why?”

“I’m hoping that we can work some of this stuff out on our own. So far, things have been pretty cordial between us. But if Mackenzie gets these papers now, I think she’ll go ballistic and turn this into World War Three.”

“I see. Well, ultimately, it’s your decision.” Ben paused for a moment of thought. “Why don’t we do this...send over a signed copy and we’ll hang on to the papers until you’re ready to pull the trigger. How does that sound?”

Dylan saw Mackenzie’s Chevy pulling into the parking lot and wanted to get off the phone quickly. “That sounds like a plan, Ben. Thanks for picking up on a weekend.”

“Billable hours, my friend,” Ben said jokingly. “Billable hours.”

* * *

Hope hugged him hello and Mackenzie greeted him by handing him the keys to her Chevy. He didn’t have a car with a backseat, so Mackenzie volunteered her car. And since he had let her drive his Corvette, it was his turn to drive her Chevy. The vintage Chevy had a bench seat in front big enough to fit all three of them. He was behind the wheel, Mackenzie was in the seat by the passenger door and Hope was seated between them. Dylan had the distinct feeling that Mackenzie was glad to put some distance between them in the car, especially since she had been giving him the cold shoulder all week. He’d thought they’d had a great weekend together. She

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