A Second-Chance Proposal Page 4

  “We’re not meeting at her house?” Willa gazed with mild longing at the McDonald’s on the hill.

  “She tries to keep business and family separate.”

  “But she’s the executor of the will. It’s business and family.”

  “Don’t go there.”

  “In 2.5 miles, turn left onto …”

  Mac – five minutes later

  Mac parked beside Aunt Laila’s car in front of Asher-Shaw & Grisby and allowed himself a few calming breaths.

  “You going to be okay?” asked Willa. “It’s just signing some papers, right?”

  He nodded with his eyes closed. “In theory. It sort of makes everything feel even more final, if that’s possible.”

  “Want me to come inside?”

  “That’s up to you. I can leave the car running with the AC if you want.”

  Willa held his gaze with intensity. “This is about what you want. What do you need from me?”

  His heart jumped, and his mind replayed an old fantasy of what it might be like to kiss her. But no. She’d never liked him as more than a friend, and he didn’t need to go making a fool of himself now. After they’d come down from the attic two weeks ago, she’d avoided eye contact with him, so he’d gone too far when he’d touched her hair and face.

  Besides, she was on the rebound from Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome.

  “This should be quick. Go ahead and wait here.” He handed her the keys. “I’ll even let you change the station.”

  “Okay.” Willa winked. “When you come back, I’ll be dancing the samba in the bed of the truck.”

  He chuckled, and his breath hitched at what his imagination conjured. “Be right back.”

  Laila met him at the door, squinting into the bright sunlight. “New truck?”

  “Yes.”

  “Spending your fortune already, huh?” she said without humor.

  He stepped past her into a small airlock foyer designed to keep the cool in and the clients out. He stopped short at his own reflection. His mother’s free-standing oval full-length mirror. “This is the thing you wanted me to take back?”

  “It was Gramma’s gift to her on her 40th birthday. I thought maybe—”

  “Aunt Laila, thank you.” A rush of air left his lungs and he found himself squeezing her tightly.

  “Oh, for crying out loud. It’s just a mirror.”

  He ran his hand gently along the curved frame. “No. This is really special. I’d forgotten about it, but this… Thanks. Thanks so much.”

  Aunt Laila’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, good. I’m glad. Sometimes I make the right call.”

  “Yes.” A grin stretched his cheeks.

  “Do you want the real prize now?” She held up a stack of documents and thumbed through the pages. “Signature or initials at each yellow flag. They’re marked so you know what to do.”

  “And then it’s all final?”

  “All final.”

  Mac almost suggested they go inside where he could sit at a desk to sign, but Aunt Laila’s stance resembled more of a protective bulldog than a welcoming relative. He flipped through the sheets, holding the stack up to the window in order to sign each time. Most of the legalese blurred past him, and he paid no attention until he reached the last page and saw the total amount of the deposit to be made in his account. He almost dropped the papers. “That’s not a typo?”

  “What, you were expecting more?”

  “No. No.” He signed more slowly and handed the papers back to Aunt Laila in a daze. His mom had taken out one heck of a life insurance policy, apparently.

  “Are you going to need help getting this thing in the truck?” Nothing about her attire or tone broadcast a genuine offer of assistance.

  “No, I brought a friend.” He pushed open the door, signaling to Willa. “Can you grab the rope from the back of the cab?”

  As Willa retrieved it, Aunt Laila backed the door open and let Mac maneuver past her with the mirror.

  Willa caught sight of it. “Oh wow! That thing is gorgeous.”

  “Got a little gold digger following you already?” quipped Aunt Laila.

  Mac spun and glared at her. “Of course not. She has no idea. I didn’t even know.”

  Aunt Laila gave a skeptical harrumph. “Well, best of luck to you. You won’t need it.” Without acknowledging Willa or saying good-bye, she marched over to her Lexus and drove away.

  Willa came over and stroked the wood frame. “She’s a real charmer, isn’t she?”

  “Lippy? She’s a shrew.”

  “That may be the meanest thing I’ve ever heard you say about anyone.”

  Mac shrugged and turned his attention to the mirror. “How are we going to get this home safely?”

  Willa twisted her lips in thought. “We passed a camping store on the way here. Maybe we could get some air mattresses or memory foam pads or something.”

  “Think we can get it that far without harm?”

  “Want me to lie in the bed next to it so it doesn’t slide around at all?”

  His eyes widened. “Why Willa Fillmore! You’d risk riding without a safety harness? When did you become so daring?”

  She gave him a playful punch. “Shut up. My friend Melina says I need to learn to take risks. This one’s just about my size.”

  He chuckled. “Seriously, though. You’ll bake alive.” It was a hot day for September.

  Willa cocked her head to one side. “It’s two minutes away. I can hack it. This thing is too pretty.”

  “All right.” They carefully positioned the mirror on its back and tying it to the built-in hooks on the truck bed.

  Confident they’d done enough to keep it safe for the short distance, Mac handed Willa up into the back. “Ooh. Do you think we’ll get stopped by cops?” she asked.

  “You really think people out here get uptight about riding in the back of a truck?”

  “I’ll keep my head down.” She situated herself beside the mirror, wincing at the hot metal. “Mac?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why did she call me a gold digger?”

  Anger colored his face. “I’m sorry you heard that.”

  “It’s a weird thing to say.”

  “She’s a lawyer. She assumes the worst in people.”

  “Yeah, but gold digger?”

  He leaned both elbows on the side of the truck and studied her face. Almost ten years might have passed since he and Willa had been friends, but he knew this much: he could still trust her. “With all the assets liquidated—the house, the life insurance, the savings—I just inherited almost three million dollars.”

  Willa – a few minutes later

  Willa barely felt the bumps as she lay in the back of Mac’s pick-up beside his mother’s beautiful mirror. Her computer geek of a friend had become a millionaire. She cursed her fate. If she even tried to get his attention now, he’d assume it was for the money.

  But she had cherished Mac’s friendship before the money. She loved his kindness, his sense of humor, his quickness to help others, and the way they worked so perfectly beside each other, each anticipating the other’s moves and needs. Jiggling her legs, she tried to shake away the amazing feeling of being with him in the attic for those few moments. How she’d wished he would kiss her.

  But that was a dumb teenager wish. Who kissed in the crawl spaces of attics while checking for faulty wiring? Not grown, responsible adults.

  The truck stopped, and Mac’s face appeared above her. “All’s clear.”

  Willa sat up, aware for the first time of her wind-frazzled hair and sweaty skin. “You’re not afraid to take me out in public?”

  He offered his hand to keep her balanced as she climbed out. “You look like a high desert flower.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Or a tumbleweed.”

  Inside, they stopped in front of a floor display for an elaborate tent and collapsible furniture display.

  “Are you two looking for the Couples’ Camping set? W
e sold out.” A teen attendant with a stringy ponytail snapped her gum apologetically.

  Willa blushed and glanced at Mac. “Oh, no. That’s okay. Just admiring.”

  “We do have some of the sleeping bags on a two-for-one sale right now, but they’re the big bulky ones. A lot of people don’t want those. They get too hot.”

  “That could be perfect if we slide it over the mirror like padding,” said Mac. “Can you show us?”

  “Sure, they’re right over here on aisle four,” said the girl, leading the way. “We got blue or red left.”

  “Red will match the truck,” said Willa.

  “Blue was Mom’s favorite color.”

  “Blue it is, then.”

  Mac – a half hour later

  “I don’t suppose we can stop at McDonald’s?” Willa crinkled her nose with a hopeful smile.

  “Nope.” Mac turned the opposite direction. “I’ve got a better idea.”

  “I was really hoping for a Big Mac.” She stopped herself, folding her lips together in a shy smile.

  Mac felt a familiar shiver go through him. Big Mac had been her nickname for him in high school. Not original, but it made him feel strong. Of course, she’d never meant it that way, but in his daydreams, he’d pretended she thought he was virile. Sexy.

  He swallowed. “I’m taking you to Roaming Roger’s. Trust me.”

  Mac second-guessed himself. This looked like a date. Would she think he was coming on too strong? Was he even ready to try a real relationship? He’d had a few floundering ones over the years, but Willa was… special. He’d loved her in an almost worshipful way back in the day, and she’d only become more lovely with time, more kind, more gracious. If he did it all wrong, would he lose her friendship forever?

  “Was that it?” Willa pointed to the restaurant as he breezed right past the parking lot entrance.

  “Oh. Sorry. My automatic pilot must be broken.” He gave a weak laugh and took the nearest opportunity to turn back around.

  Once there, he found himself grappling with a different kind of distraction. His hand wanted to go to the small of Willa’s back, or sift the long waves of hair back from her eyes. Part of him ached to reach in and try out one of those daydream kisses. But then wouldn’t he wake up in the middle of a physics exam? That’s how it had always been before.

  Instead, he stood with his hands stuffed awkwardly in his back pockets.

  They slid into a booth, and he resisted the urge to lace his legs around hers under the table.

  Willa gave a smile and picked up the menu. “Anything you especially recommend? I take it you’ve been here before.”

  “It’s the one thing that makes coming to Aunt Laila’s bearable. The Jalapeno Bacon Burger is excellent.”

  Willa found it on the menu. “This girl is smokin’ hot. Seasoned spicy and topped with smoky jalapeno bacon, habanero pepperjack cheese, candied jalapenos, and chipotle aioli.” Grabbing her ice water, Willa shook her head. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  Mac chuckled. Willa never did like spicy. “Teasing. You might try the Burger Dip. It’s an au jus thing.”

  “That sounds good.” She nodded at the picture. “If you don’t mind me dribbling a mess all down my blouse, I think I’ll try it.”

  Mac’s eyes traced the path of most likely spillage before looking away quickly, heat rising in his ears. “Spilling Willa. I’ll get you a bib someday.”

  Willa smirked. “To match your styling suspenders.” She snatched up her purse. “Go ahead and order for me. I’ve got to go make myself look human.”

  He watched her stand, thinking she’d surpassed human a long time ago. More like a tousled angel.

  Willa – a few minutes later

  Willa examined her reflection in the mirror and grunted. “I do look like a tumbleweed.” She quickly touched up her make-up and combed her hair back into submission. Drawing a deep breath, she swiveled side to side, mostly pleased with her figure.

  Had Mac noticed? Did he care? She unfastened the top two buttons and decided to watch for his reaction. If she didn’t want him to think of her as a gold digger, he had to think romance was his idea.

  She hesitated, frowning. The stupid money factor. It had changed Orrin, and he’d dumped her. Would it do the same to Mac?

  A rugged young waiter who looked like he probably rode mechanical bulls every night swaggered up to the table with their drinks just as she returned.

  “Oh, you didn’t lose the girl after all,” he quipped to Mac with a smile, and backed away to check on another table.

  Willa rolled her eyes and took her place. “I wasn’t gone that long.”

  Mac’s expression changed. Though he didn’t smile exactly, she sensed his warming approval. “You’re looking a little more refreshed. No more Wilting Willa.”

  She pursed her lips. “Wilting Willa. Spilling Willa. We need to work on better nicknames for me.”

  “Wonder Willa?” He cocked an eyebrow comically.

  “Do I get the lasso of truth?”

  He raised his palms, as if indicating the whole restaurant. “We’re in rodeo territory out here. I’m sure it could be arranged.”

  “And if I wrapped you in gold rope and asked why you never called me all these years?”

  Mac’s face lost the light. “It might get tangled in knots.”

  Willa’s hopes deflated. As casually as possible, she buttoned her blouse back up and tried to blink back stinging tears.

  Mac – a few hours later

  When they pulled into the driveway separating Elfie and Willa’s homes, Mac ventured a glance at Willa. “So …” If this had been an actual date, this was the moment to lean over and start smooching, but she hadn’t given him any clear signs that they’d moved beyond the relationship they had ten years ago. In fact, it was probably much stronger back then because he wasn’t so completely overwhelmed by her beauty. Weren’t women supposed to put on the Freshman 15lbs in college? If Willa had done so, they’d all gone to filling out the most alluring curves, and it was starting to play tricks with his body chemistry.

  She gave him a gentle smile. “So?”

  “I have one more favor to ask.”

  “Yes?” She tilted her head, sending her long, golden waves tumbling over her chest.

  He licked his lips and forced himself to focus on her brilliant blue eyes. “The mirror.”

  “You need help unloading it. Duh.”

  “No, I mean… I need a place to store it, and Gramma Elfie’s attic is already exploding. Is there any chance …”

  “You seriously think that would fit in my attic?”

  “I was thinking your bedroom.” He swallowed. “If you want it, I mean. It would make me happy to know it’s in use by someone who will take care of it.”

  Willa’s eyes widened. “And if I break it?”

  He gave a sad laugh. “I’ll assume responsibility for the seven years of bad luck.”

  “No,” she said, patting his arm. It sent a thrilling jolt all down his left side. “You’ve already suffered your seven years.” Her words sent the electricity back up the right side.

  “I trust it won’t be broken.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out, rushing to untie the cords.

  Willa worked silently with him, and soon the mirror stood in her bedroom, framing the two of them as a couple in the reflection. Mac locked eyes with her in the glass, his heart pounding.

  Retreating a step, he accidentally backed into the corner of her bed and sat hard. As he slid further to the floor, he grappled for something to hold on. His hand gripped a laundry hamper, and the next thing he knew, he sat on the floor with lavender scented bras and underwear on his lap.

  “Smooth move,” teased Willa, leaning down to retrieve the basket. “Oh my gosh!” She blushed and hurried to hide her delicates, stuffing them back into the hamper. “Close your eyes! I forgot I left these there.”

  Mac grinned and obliged, grabbing something at random to hold behind his back.

>   “Oh no you don’t, Mac Norton.” He opened his eyes as she dropped to her knees and prepared to wrestle with him for the article. “That’s my favorite one.”

  He held it up. A soft blue, crazy-sexy bra that made his eyes pop. “You wear this?”

  “Give it back!” She giggled, slapping his chest.

  He tucked it behind his back again, and she lunged, her arms wrapping around him in an effort to win a tug-o-war with the lingerie. Suddenly, their bodies stilled, and the giggling stopped. They were a tangled assortment of limbs and soft breaths. Could she hear the pounding of his heart?

  He let go of the bra but otherwise didn’t move. In slow motion, she placed it in the hamper, drawing their faces even closer. Their eyes met, and Mac was sure steam had to be emanating from his body.

  “You don’t want to trade that bra for my suspenders?” he asked, his voice husky.

  Her fingers curled under the striped straps on each shoulder and tugged him nearer.

  Taking a chance, he closed the distance between them and kissed her, his lips asking a question.

  She answered with a sigh that filled him with hope.

  Willa – an hour later

  Willa sat on the edge of her bed, gazing into the standing mirror with a dreamy expression on her face. Though she’d longed for it, when the kiss came, it shook her. It had been sweet but not passionate, so what did it mean? I like you? Thanks for the help? Don’t mind me, I just got turned on when rolling in women’s lacy underwear?

  Her phone rang, and she checked the Caller ID. Smiling, she let herself flop backwards on the bed. “Hey, Mel. What’s up?”

  “What have you got going this weekend?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  “I was thinking we should take in some dance clubs.”

  Willa wavered. “I don’t know.”

  Melina laughed. “One of these days you’ll need to take a chance and do something daring.”

  “Yeah, right.” Willa knocked her toes together. “I’ll have to check with Elfie.”

  “Don’t you have a fixed schedule with her? She doesn’t own you.”