Smith chuckled. “Feel better.”
“No.”
His buddy shook his head.
“Let’s go. He’s not here.” Derk started the truck and left the middle-class neighborhood. They’d be back again tomorrow. But until then, he needed to find out if there was an opportunity to get back into Mac’s bed. Because this crazy mind-shit was for the birds.
21
Mackenzie glanced at the time on her phone. She was really growing tired of missing the last bus. Her options for a ride were slim. Kayla left for her family's house early this afternoon. If she called Grant, he might get the wrong idea. Derk was definitely a no. Only one option left. She pulled up the web browser app and looked for taxi companies to drive her the couple miles to her apartment.
After three unsuccessful calls to companies that wanted more money than she'd made in tips to drive out and pick her up, Mackenzie broke down. She hadn't allowed herself to let out all her frustration, heartbreak, disappointment, and shame over the screwed up world her life had become. Head buried in her hands, she released all those pent up emotions. She'd been stupid, wavering, and desperate when she met her husband, not having had any stability in her life. A horrible combo that led to an ill decision in marrying him. Look where all of her dreadful choices left her. On a bench after two in the morning, with no ride home. She was so sick of being left behind, a second class citizen. She wanted so much more in life. She wanted to live, not just get by.
She heard boots crunch in the gravel behind her but didn't bother to look up. Why should she? Her luck was so awful, whoever it was would end up being a horror movie ax murderer with a dull weapon.
A familiar scent wrapped around her as a pair of strong arms took hold of her and hauled her into his muscular body.
"Shhhh, Mac," Derk soothed.
She buried her head into his chest and released a cathartic sob. Her hands grasped his black tee. When he kissed the top of her head, she crawled into his lap, her need to be held overwhelming.
"Did he hurt you?" Derk asked.
What? "What?"
"Did he hurt you? Did your boyfriend hurt you?"
"Boyfriend?" She hiccupped.
"Yes, the asswipe I saw you with," he said, though she heard his barely contained restraint.
"Do you mean Grant?"
Derk huffed. "He even has a douche bag name."
She shook her head. "He's not my boyfriend, and no he hasn't done anything to hurt me."
"Are you sleeping with him?"
"No," she whispered. "I couldn't."
Derk lifted her head off his chest to look her in the eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I couldn't sleep with him." She closed her eyes and debated on whether or not she should voice her honesty. Every damn decision she made over the years had been wrong. No matter if she thought it was right, they always turned out not. If she admitted the truth to Derk, where would it lead? A crystal ball would be quite helpful.
"Why, Mac?" he demanded.
If she took the leap, would Derk catch her? And if he caught her, would he ever drop her?
"Why?" he breathed, he lowered his head, his mouth brushed against hers.
Every reasonable part of her brain screamed to push away. Every part of her heart wanted to pull him close. Really, she needed to seek professional help for this split personality shit.
"You," she quietly admitted.
He claimed her mouth in a kiss so hard, so deep, so passionate she knew she'd be bruised in the morning. But she’d made the choice, time to live with the consequences. His strong arms pulled her tight against his body. At that moment, Derk owned her. No matter what he asked for from her, he could have.
Breaking the kiss, leaving them both breathless, Derk looked her in the eyes. "Come home with me."
"Why are you here?"
"I couldn't fuckin' take it any longer, Mac. I need to be inside you. I need you in my bed. I fuckin' need you. Period."
She furrowed her brows. "You only want me for sex."
Sighing, he leaned his forehead against hers. "I wish it was that simple. Come home with me."
"What does that mean?" Why couldn’t men elaborate? Was it a malfunction in their brains?
"It means I want you in my house, in my bed, despite my better judgment. It means me not having you for the past two weeks has messed with me, and I'm sick of it. Just get into my truck Mac and make us both feel a hell of a lot better," he said, his tone growing exasperated.
"But‒"
"Really, M? You're gonna argue? Is this what you do, woman? You're sitting out here at two a.m., bawling your eyes out, with no one to call. I'm the only one to show up here for you, and you're arguing?" He cocked a brow. "Knock it off."