The Day He Kissed Her (Bad Boys of Crystal Lake 3)

He visualized soaring ceilings, rooms filled with light and glass, and materials that were modern, but ones that also took from the natural surroundings—slate, granite, steel, oak, and cedar.

This planning stage was always one that he enjoyed, the one where his artistic side could have some wings, and he was as excited about the development as Jake was. It was a different gig from a lot of the projects he’d worked on lately and a welcome change of pace.

Overall, the week had been successful. He’d managed to get the fence done at his mother’s, the eves cleaned out, and one of Jake’s contractors had given him a good quote on new windows.

He’d made it through his first game coaching the Crystal Lake Comets, and though his nephew’s attitude still needed adjustment—there was anger there and a healthy dose of confusion—Mackenzie was content to let him ride it out. Mac could take it, and if the kid needed a punching bag, it might as well be him.

The game had started out a little bumpy until Liam found his groove somewhere between the fourth and fifth inning. They came back from behind by five runs and managed to sneak out a win against the visiting team. Jake and Cain had taken the kids for ice cream afterward, and lo and behold, his nephew had even managed a few smiles.

So, all in all, a good week.

And it was about to get a whole lot better.

Mac pulled into Lily’s driveway and parked beside her BMW. He hadn’t spoken to Lily since Monday, but she’d sent him a text the night before. A text that had pretty much kept him awake most of the night.

Awake and horny as hell.

Pick me up at 5. I’ll be spending the night.

Mac cut the engine and glanced at his watch as he climbed out of the truck and started for the house—4:59, right on time. He was just about to knock when the door flew open and his eyes landed on a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Lily.

Barefoot, with hot pink toenails, the woman slowly smiled up at him. Mac couldn’t tell if she was older or younger because she looked a little ragged around the edges—the heavy, dark eye makeup didn’t help—but it had more to do with her attitude and the look in her eyes.

Skin tanned to a deep, almost unnatural shade of gold, she was dressed in skimpy shorts, boasted a stud and ring in her belly button, and her generous rack nearly spilled out of the bright fuchsia halter top. With long blond hair in disarray, a pouty mouth, and knowing eyes, the woman oozed sex and other, darker things.

He caught the sweet smell of rye whiskey and coupled with the stale scent of cigarettes, he figured the lady had been going hard for a good, long while now. She was bad news.

He didn’t have to take a wild guess to know that this was Lily’s notorious sister, Maddison St. Clare—reality-show sensation and not in the good way.

“Well, aren’t you just delicious,” she purred, leaning against the door frame. She was all kinds of sex kitten and hard edges. He knew the type and he wasn’t interested.

“You must be Maddison.”

“And you must be the man who’s got Lily’s panties all bunched up in knots.”

Mac shrugged, his tone light, but he was immediately on alert. The girl was fishing. “The name’s Mac.”

“I know.” She didn’t skip a beat. “I peeked at her cell when she was in the shower. Saw your text.” She licked her glossy mouth. “So tell me…does Mac have a brother?”

“Nope.” Mac didn’t like the predatory gleam in her eye. In fact, there wasn’t much about the woman that he liked. She was so far from who Lily was, it was hard to believe they belonged in the same gene pool.

She chewed on her bottom lip, eyebrows raised slightly as she studied him for a few more seconds before she must have decided that he wasn’t worth the bother. She moved to the side and motioned him in. “She’s never on time.”

Good to know. He’d have to file that one away.

Mac stepped inside the cottage and moved past Maddison into the kitchen. Music played softly somewhere down the hall, an old Stones song if he was hearing right.

Angie.

Ah, seems as if Lily’s ear was bent to the classics. He liked that.

Fresh flowers were in a glass bowl on the counter, big blue-purple things that reminded him of his mother’s lilacs, but they were round and much larger. Arranged to float on top of the water, they added a classy touch.

He liked that too.

“Maddison, have you seen my purse? I need my tickets—”

Mac’s head whipped up and he damn near choked when Lily came around the corner because she stopped him cold.