Playful Hearts (A Rocky Harbor Novel Book 4) Read online

“Okay.” And the sad, serious expression took over Blake’s face again; this time she was responsible for it. The man, even if he was a sex addict, had been given some pretty serious news last night and all she could think about was herself.

  “I guess if we’re both going to have dinner we might as well have it together.”

  “Really?” And like a puppy dog who had been given a treat, Blake squirmed with excitement.

  “Sure. I do want to check on the shop first. And change. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” She looked down at her running shorts and pulled at her T-shirt, remembering what her face and hair looked like.

  “You’re gorgeous. Don’t change. Unless it’s to put on skimpy underwear.”

  “What about commando?”

  His eyes changed to an ebony so dark she could practically see her reflection in them before he crushed his mouth to hers. He did that a lot, kissing her quickly and roughly with minimal notice. And she liked it. Too much.

  Right as her toes curled and her over-sensitized girly parts tingled, he slipped his tongue from her mouth.

  “You can’t talk like that when we’re in public. Or I’m not responsible for what I do to you.”

  “Sorry about that, Mr. Riley. I’ll go home and put on my granny panties, spanx, and baggy sweats.”

  “Still not helping.” He lowered his head again, this time sipping at her lips and tucking his hands under the elastic of her shorts, cupping her butt. Skin on skin and she thought she’d melt right there in the parking lot.

  “If I knew this was the show I’d be getting I would have finished my workout a long time ago,” someone called from behind her.

  Blake withdrew his hands from inside her shorts, resting them on her lower back, and looked over her shoulder.

  “Anything to get out of a workout, huh, Dan?”

  “Is that the hot brunette with the nice ass who was in earl—”

  “Watch it,” Blake warned. He stepped away from Mackenzie, his face hard and angry.

  “Easy, man. Just joshing with ya. You Riley guys are all sensitive about your women.”

  Mackenzie kept her gaze on Blake’s clenched jaw as she heard the slam of a car door, the start of the engine, and squealing of tires.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about.”

  “Dan’s an asshole.”

  “If I saw a friend of mine making out in the parking lot, do you think I’d keep my mouth shut? And don’t tell me you don’t razz your brothers when they’re locking lips with their wives. Not that I’m…that we’re…” Great. She didn’t mean to put herself in a category with his family.

  “Sure, I’d be the first to give anyone a hard time, but I wouldn’t be disrespectful toward the woman. Dan acted like you couldn’t hear what he was saying. That’s not okay.”

  A sex addict with a heart. Damn, she was doomed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Blake

  Blake studied Mackenzie’s bewitching gaze and contemplated taking her in the back of his truck. No, she deserved better. They’d yet to have a real date and now was as good a time as any to have their first.

  “So. Dinner.”

  “I have some chicken in the fridge I can cook up.”

  No way. He wanted to wine and dine her properly, like a woman deserved. “How do you feel about Italian?”

  “Why? You have some cabernet running through your blood?” The sexy vixen cocked her hip, her lip mimicking the move as she scraped a nail down his chin.

  “A little of this and a little of that.” He needed to keep his head on straight, to focus on his future for a few minutes, before stripping Mackenzie naked again. “I’ll follow you home, give you a few minutes to close up shop, then I’m taking you out to Antonio’s.”

  It wasn’t fancy Italian, more family style, but it would get the job done. Show her she was more than a quick lay and a good time.

  “Sounds good.” Mackenzie ducked under his arm and slid behind the wheel before he could pull her in for another kiss.

  Just as well. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself before another gym rat lurked in the parking lot.

  During his drive into town, his mind drifted between picturing Mackenzie naked and the worry of his crazy sister harassing his family. Talk about polar opposites and messed up. He didn’t want to cloud his sex-lationship with Mack with thoughts of Alyssa.

  A wave of guilt crashed in his gut. He shouldn’t have ditched his family last night. Between the stream of unread texts from Rachael and Graham, and the verbal thrashing he’d gotten from Colton in the gym, Blake was in full escape mode.

  He didn’t need to read Rach’s texts to know they’d be sappy and supportive. Or Graham’s texts to see the light hearted humor. Probably an offer to go for an escape flight down south where the women showed more skin than clothes and the alcohol flowed freely. Graham got him. They were the escape artists in the family.

  It was Colton’s lecture that threw him for a loop. The Riley siblings were really good about backing off when one was down. They supported each other without the pressure to talk. Yet elusive Colton rode his ass about ditching the family last night and ignoring their mom and blowing off Luke and Sage.

  Blake didn’t need the added guilt. He didn’t have a freaking clue how to handle the situation. All the world needed was another messed-up Snyder destroying all that was good.

  Instead of feeling grateful that his brother was taking in his niece, Blake had brushed Luke off, opting for some sex therapy rather than discuss the implications he knew would come from taking in a Snyder.

  Blake pulled around back of Coast & Roast and waited while Mackenzie jogged inside. He could wait for her in there, watch her do her thing, but he needed a moment to get his mental state back in the zone before going out to dinner.

  He rolled down his windows and turned up the local country station, soaking in the easygoing words of Sam Hunt and Florida Georgia Line. Maybe he should move south. Become a farmer or a cowboy. It was more his style. Find himself a country girl who liked to wear those ass-cupping denim shorts and plaid shirts. Maybe a cowboy hat and boots.

  Smooth, tanned skin and large dark eyes and a smile that brightened when she saw him.

  “Ready, cowboy?”

  Blake opened his eyes and jumped. “That was fast.” He took in Mackenzie’s face, framed by her long, dark hair, and made a lazy assessment of the rest of her. Thin pale green tank top and…was it…? He leaned out the window to check out her legs.

  “Damn.” Ass-cupping denim shorts. “Get in the truck before it’s too late.”

  “Too late for what?” She rounded the hood, keeping her razor sharp gaze on him all the way, and climbed into the passenger side.

  “Dinner,” he grumbled as he started the engine.

  “We may still be in time for the early bird special.” Mackenzie snapped her buckle and crossed her long, tanned legs.

  She was a good distraction. “Or we could skip dinner and do dessert at my place.”

  Too damned good of a distraction. Blake couldn’t help but snicker as he steered the truck toward Portland. They filled the rest of the twenty minute ride with mindless banter, neither one of them bringing up the heavy topic of family.

  Mackenzie had her own family issues to deal with; she didn’t need to be burdened with his shit. Besides, those in sex-lationships didn’t talk about emotions and feelings and serious stuff.

  When they got to Antonio’s, Blake helped her out of the truck and resisted the temptation to hold her hand as they walked into the restaurant. They laughed over drinks, flirted while eating their salads, and then her chicken marsala and his manicotti came out.

  “My mom makes the best manicotti. She doesn’t remember her secret ingredient and I want to tell her, but I don’t know how she’ll react. I wish she could remember.” Mackenzie eyed his meal for a second before cutting her chicken.

  “Want a bite?” Blake offered her a forkful.


  Mackenzie shook her head. “No thanks.” The light that was in her eyes a few minutes ago dimmed.

  If they were in a normal relationship—not that he had a clue what that meant—he’d ask about her mom, her dad, inquire a little about her brothers, her nephew who sometimes worked the counter at Coast & Roast. Instead he played safe.

  “How’s the water heater?”

  She looked up from her plate and grinned. “Dad says Mom’s been soaking in the tub every night. She’s messed up the timetable she’s had in place for thirty some-odd years.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “Totally. Thanks, by the way. My dad still talks about you. My brothers were never handy around the house. More booksmartish. I’d rather have helped him mow the lawn and fix the broken steps or wire the house than learn how to properly knead bread or hem a pair of pants. Mom didn’t think it was proper, though.”

  “I guess my mom did the same with us. Rachael, however, was meant to do the stereotypical women’s jobs.”

  “Easy, big fella.” Mackenzie pointed her fork at him.

  “Hey, I said stereotypical. If Rach wasn’t into the kitchen thing Doreen would have supported her regardless. She’s not pressuring Lucy into doing anything domestic. But she did make all of us do laundry and wash dishes. Even master a recipe or two. So we wouldn’t starve to death. Luke practiced his pies, Colton did the mac and cheese thing. Graham went Italian and worked on his lasagna.”

  “What’s your poison?”

  Blake picked up his beer, smiling into his glass. “The grill, baby. Steak and potatoes.”

  Mackenzie snorted. “Sounds like you took the easy way out. Slapping a steak on the grill doesn’t take a lot of work.”

  “Oh.” Blake set his beer down and clutched his chest. “That hurts.”

  “You have to admit, making a pie or lasagna takes more skill that grilling.”

  Blake shook his head in disappointment. “You, my poor, lost, deprived child, have never tasted a Blake Riley steak. It’s a…an experience you’ll never forget.”

  “Really? So why haven’t you offered to grill me up a Blake Riley steak before?”

  “I don’t have a grill yet at my place and by the time I made it to Mom’s last night the food had already been cooked.”

  His mom’s. Everyone was having a good time, even with the razzing of his and Mackenzie’s not-so-secret thing they had going on, until he’d learned about his sister. And his niece.

  Blake picked up his beer again and wished he could drink it all away. Not that he was a heavy drinker, or one to drown his sorrows in a bottle.

  “Blake?” Mackenzie leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her eyes filled with worry.

  This was exactly what he didn’t want. For people to know about his past and the shame to come bubbling to the surface. Those years of therapy that Keith and Doreen forced him into when he was a teen came rushing back. He knew better than to categorize himself as a Snyder. He wasn’t responsible for his mother’s decisions or mistakes, nor his sister’s.

  Still, he shouldn’t have completely shut his family out. He should have reached out to his birth siblings a long time ago. It wasn’t their fault they were born to a drugged-up hooker either. Cody and Dawn were still out there somewhere. In their mid-twenties. Lost and alone.

  “Are you worried about your niece?”

  He finished his beer and pushed his plate to the side. “What makes you think I’m worried about her?”

  Mackenzie sat back, her face revealing the hurt his words had caused. He didn’t mean to snap at her.

  “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I don’t like talking about my family problems either.”

  Family. He didn’t mind talking about them. The Rileys. The stories were often fun to tell, especially when it involved one of his brothers getting in trouble or breaking a heart or two in high school.

  But Natalie was his family too. Blake scrubbed his hands across his face and cleared his throat.

  “Melinda, my birth mom, sold her body for drugs. Four kids later…” He shrugged. “It wouldn’t surprise me if my older sister, Alyssa, Natalie’s mom, did the same.”

  “Blake.” Mackenzie reached across the table and grabbed his hands.

  He shrugged again and wished he still had a sip or five of beer left in his glass. “Most foster families didn’t want four kids, so we were often split up. Boys and girls. Melinda would harass the families, not to see her kids, but in search for money. She’d threaten them if they didn’t toss cash her way. Most times though she’d break in when they weren’t home. A few of the families accused me of stealing. Or Cody. He didn’t talk much. Selective mutism, they called it. Last I heard he ran away from his foster home when he was fifteen. Haven’t heard about him since.”

  “And your sisters?”

  “Dawn was younger and a cute little ballerina. I’m sure some family took her in and raised her right.”

  “You haven’t heard from any of them over the years?” Her tone wasn’t judgmental. She stroked her soft fingers across his knuckles, the kindness and compassion in her eyes nearly making him come undone. Blake had never had the urge to let it all out, to tell anyone the sordid details of his past. Better to move on and not let it drag you down.

  Besides, once he’d found love and freedom with the Rileys he’d had no urge to look back. No desire to reconnect with his siblings, who he was never close with anyway. They had nothing in common except a dead mother.

  Keith and Doreen had asked him a few times after taking him in if he wanted to find his brother and sisters, but he was adamant that they didn’t connect. Blake wanted nothing to do with his past, no connection to the poverty, the drugs, the Johns, the teasing and tormenting he got in school, the men who beat him when he didn’t know where Melinda was.

  Blake had been too caught up in his new life and his therapy to think of anyone besides himself. The guilt of years of selfishness weighed heavily on his shoulders.

  “Every now and then I do. I imagine them with a new life, like I have. Sounds like that didn’t happen for Alyssa.”

  “What was she like as a kid?”

  “A snot. We fought a lot. I didn’t like her. She didn’t like me.” Blake couldn’t imagine treating one of his brothers or sisters—his Riley brothers or sisters—the way he and Alyssa did. They were cruel to one another and Melinda did nothing to stop them or teach them wrong from right.

  “I don’t have much in common with my brothers either,” she said. “They’re so much older than me. More like older cousins or something.”

  “You still keep in touch?”

  “Yeah.” Mackenzie pulled her hand away and Blake caught hold of her pinky finger, working his fingers with hers until they were intertwined. “They visit on holidays. All too caught up with their families. My nephew Joey’s a good kid. A hard worker. I’m probably closer to him than to my brothers. They’ve left Mom and Dad’s care to me since I’m single and close. And don’t have a real job.”

  “You’re an entrepreneur. How is that not a real job?”

  “You lookin’ to get lucky again?” The Mackenzie smirk was back.

  “I suppose you could say the same for me then.”

  “You own a gym and a killer obstacle course that’s already attracted thousands of people and media attention.”

  “Sounds like someone else wants to get lucky tonight as well.”

  “I wouldn’t argue if you stripped down naked.”

  Blake barked out a laugh. “Ditto.”

  When the waitress came by a few minutes later and asked if they wanted dessert, Mackenzie ordered three cannoli. To go.

  ***

  “I’ll never be able to eat or think about a cannoli again without picturing you naked.” Blake drew Mackenzie’s body in tight, spooning her from behind.

  “Mmm. Agreed,” Mackenzie moaned.

  “Picturing yourself naked?”

  “You, dork.” Mackenzie bumped her butt into his groi
n and he groaned.

  “Us.”

  Wow. He’d never used the us word before. It was always him and her. Never a we, or us, or relationship. And he didn’t even feel faint or dizzy. No blood rushed to his head. Well, maybe his lower head.

  He hated to leave her warm bed, her soft body, but if he stayed any longer he’d be spewing poetry and crap. Better to run before things turned dicey.

  “I have to go into work pretty early tomorrow so I’m gonna take off.” He kissed her neck and gave her naked breast one last caress.

  “Oh.” Call him an ass, but he loved the sound of disappointment in her voice. “I’m opening at five so I’ll need a good night’s sleep. Especially after today.”

  “Yeah?” Pride filled his voice.

  “The running. And obstacles. I’m beat.”

  “And?” He rolled Mackenzie to her back and stared down into her playful eyes.

  “And dinner. I’m stuffed.”

  Blake caressed her sides, then, remembering how ticklish she was, gently poked her ribs with his fingers, enjoying the spasmic movement of her body.

  “Stop. Seriously,” she laughed. “You’re going to make me pee.”

  He stilled his hands, then moved them up her torso to her arms, which he pulled above her head until their hands were entangled near the headboard and Mackenzie was stretched out in all her glory.

  Words of endearment danced at the tip of his tongue but he bit them back, sealing his lips with hers.

  “I gotta go,” he whispered on her neck. She nodded and tugged at his earlobe with her teeth.

  “Until next time.”

  Blake rolled off her and crammed himself into his jeans, hoping he could zip up over his growing excitement. It wasn’t normal to be so horny. Horny was normal for Blake. But minutes after he’d had heaven-shaking sex? No. So not normal.

  “Hey,” Mackenzie called from the bed when he’d reached the doorway. Blake stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Thanks for dinner. It was nice.”

  He winked at her instead of responding, those unwelcome poetic, endearing words still lingering in his mouth, and let himself out of her apartment.