92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [122]
She looked away and sighed. “And you realized you can help without the necessity of marrying me.”
“Yes,” he said. “Instinctively you knew that.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, a slight edge to her voice.
“You wanted that six-month engagement,” he reminded her. “Which was more of a probation period.”
“Oh…yes.” She did busywork in the kitchen, folding the Cedar Cove Chronicle and tossing it into the recycling bin, then smoothing out a towel that lay on the counter. “So what you’re saying is you want out of the engagement?”
He hesitated and swallowed hard. “That might be for the best.”
“Fine.” She hung the towel on the oven door. “You said I knew marriage wasn’t right for us, but you obviously did, too.”
He frowned.
“You didn’t tell your parents, remember? That must’ve been why.”
Perhaps, but he doubted it. He took another long drink of his iced tea and set the empty glass aside. “Then we understand each other?” he asked.
She gestured weakly. “I’m sorry, I guess I don’t. What is our relationship, Mack?”
Good question. He shrugged.
“We’re neighbors,” she began.
“Well, of course,” he said. As well as landlord and tenant. He quickly decided this wasn’t the appropriate time to divulge that. And it wasn’t as though it was hurting him financially. Plus, he rationalized, the fact that he owned the duplex meant she’d been able to attain at least a degree of independence.
“Friends.”
“I certainly hope so.”
His response seemed to reassure her.
“But you’d like the freedom to…to see other women, wouldn’t you?” she asked, her voice sharpening. “That’s really what this is all about, isn’t it?”
He stiffened. “If you’re suggesting I’ve met someone else, then you’re wrong.” He didn’t want her to think he was another David, a man who’d discard her without a care.
“But you want the freedom to see others,” she said.
“That goes for you, too.” Again the words nearly stuck in his throat. “You’d be free to date other men if you wished.” He hoped that wasn’t the case. It would be hell on earth to watch some other man stroll into her life, and stand idly by. Mack didn’t know if he could do it.
She looked down at her bare hand. “I guess it’s just as well we never got around to shopping for rings.”
“Just as well,” he repeated.
“Perhaps that was another instance of us both knowing that marriage wasn’t right for us.”
“Maybe so,” he agreed.
They seemed to run out of things to say at the same time. But Mack couldn’t bring himself to leave. In the pit of his stomach he knew that once he walked out the door, invitations to visit would be few and far between.
“Do you feel better?” Mary Jo asked after a lengthy silence. “I always do when I’ve finally told someone the truth.”
“Yeah,” he said and forced a smile at the irony of her statement. He started toward the door, then abruptly turned back. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Promise me you won’t let pride get in the way.”
“I can’t, not where Noelle’s concerned,” she said. “Anyway, I know how important she is to you, and I wouldn’t keep you apart.”
“I’m grateful.”
She walked with him and held open the door. Head down, long hair hiding her face, she said, “I’m grateful, too—that you’re my…friend.”
Mack found he couldn’t leave without kissing her. Slipping his finger beneath her chin, he raised her face and then, after a single heartbeat, lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was slow and tender. When he lifted his head, Mack could hardly speak. “Friends and neighbors and…perhaps more.” He wanted to be sure she understood that the possibility existed. What he hoped, what he needed, was some indication from Mary Jo that she wanted him as part of her life. Then and only then could they move forward.
Mary Jo closed the door after Mack, then sank onto the living room sofa, almost too stunned to think. She supposed Mack was right to break the engagement. She liked him a great deal and was already half in love with him—maybe all the way in love with him. So much had happened in the past year, so much she didn’t fully understand. If her