Stumbling Into Love (Fluke My Life 2)

“I have work, but I’d like to see you after.”

“I’d like that.”

Rolling her to her back, I hover over her and slide my fingers through her hair. “Pack an overnight bag. I’ll pick you up tonight when I get off work.”

“This is more than just sex, right?”

Her question catches me off guard. I freeze for a moment, then reach over her head and turn on the bedside lamp. Looking down at her once my eyes have adjusted to the bright light, I take her face between my palms.

“This is way more than just sex. I know I can’t keep my hands off you when you’re close, but I also can’t keep my mind off you when you’re gone. Don’t tell me that you’ve really been thinking that this was just about hooking up?”

“I haven’t.” She shakes her head and closes her eyes for a moment before looking at me once more. “I’ve never had a one-night stand before. I—”

Covering her lips with a finger, I shake my head.

“You still haven’t had a one-night stand. We didn’t just hook up and call it quits. Even if you hadn’t forgotten your phone, I would have eventually found you.”

“You would have?”

“Don’t you feel this thing between us? How strong it is? Do you think that I could just let you go without trying to find out what exactly it is?” I kiss her jaw. “Since the second I saw you, I knew that I wanted you. But from the moment you smiled at me and told me that you got stood up, I knew that there was something about you that I had to have. Lucky for me your date didn’t show up that night. If he had, I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t have tried to talk to you anyway, even with him sitting right next to you.”

“Oh,” she whispers as a small smile plays on her lips.

“I know that nothing about us is traditional, but I’m okay with that as long as there is an us. So are we on the same page now?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” I kiss her, then roll to my back and pull her over on top of me.

“Wesley . . .”

“Yeah?” I run my hand down her arm as she slides up my body so she can rest her chin on my chest. I slide her hand up the side of my neck before wrapping it around my jaw.

“I know you may not want to, but if you do want to talk about what happened last night, or”—she pauses—“what happened before, I’m here,” she says quietly.

My stomach muscles tighten, and my heart constricts.

“Thanks, gorgeous,” I say quietly.

She turns her head and kisses my chest before resting her cheek against my pec. In a few moments, she’s back asleep.

Before my boot even makes it over the threshold at the hospital, I hear my name. I look up to find Mackenzie’s mom rushing toward me down the empty hall. She’s wearing dark slacks and a Christmas sweater with bells on it. I had called Mackenzie a little while before, and she told me that she and Libby were at the hospital. I figured I could kill two birds with one stone: get a few minutes with my girl and check on my partner.

Now, seeing the look on Katie’s face, I remember that Mackenzie also mentioned telling her parents about us. I should have held off trying to see her until this evening. Mackenzie was right—her mom is crazy.

“Oh, I’m so happy to see you! So, so happy.” She pats the side of my face before yanking my head down. Forced to bend, I hug her awkwardly as she kisses my cheek. “I knew, I just knew that you and our Mac would hit it off. I have a sick sense about these things.”

“I think you mean sixth sense, Mom,” Libby says, catching up to her and giving me a one-armed hug while rolling her eyes.

“That’s what I said—a sixth sense.” Katie shoos away her youngest with one hand and takes mine with the other. “Mac is in talking to Fawn and Levi. I’ll lead you that way, and we can talk.”

“Mom, what did Mac say about scaring off her boyfriend?”

“I’m not scaring him off,” she says as she turns to look up at me. “Right?”

“Not at all,” I deny.

She smiles, wiggling her head side to side in a way that reminds me of a hyper Chihuahua I had growing up.

“So . . . before we get into the room, I want to talk to you about Christmas. I know you mentioned at Thanksgiving that your family lives in Seattle, and that you would be here in New York for the holiday, so I wanted to invite you myself to Long Island.”

“That’s really nice, but my mom and stepdad will be coming here,” I say.

She stops to look at me.

“Oh! Well, I’d love to meet your mother! Bring her along.” She smiles, and I fight back a laugh.

Maybe Mackenzie had the right idea about keeping our relationship from her family. I can see now that her mom is going to be difficult to disappoint—and even harder to keep out of our business.

“I’ll see how my mom feels about that. I’m sure that she would like to meet you, too.”

“Meet who?”

Lifting my head, I smile at Mackenzie. She’s standing just outside Levi’s door wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that is about ten sizes too big for her small frame. Her hair is down in a wavy mess. It reminds me of what she looks like after we make love.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I say.

Her eyes soften for a brief moment as she looks at me. Then she looks at her mom and narrows them.

“Who are you meeting?”

“Wesley’s mom, when she comes into town for Christmas,” Katie says.

The color drains from Mackenzie’s face as her eyes fly to meet mine. “Your mom is coming into town?” she asks.

Libby takes Katie’s hand and begins to drag her into the room. She closes the door behind them, leaving Mackenzie in the hall with me.

“She is.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Why do you have the look on your face that you always get when you’re about to run away?”

“I don’t.”

“You do—I have that look memorized,” I say.

She looks away, takes a deep breath, and then looks at me once more.

“Do you want me to meet her?” she asks.

I know she’s nervous by the way she wrings her hands together.

“Yeah, I’d like you to meet her. I know she’s going to want to meet you, too.”

“But I’m a tomboy!” she blurts with wide eyes. I frown, confused.

“Pardon?”

“I’m a tomboy. How will your mom feel about you dating a tomboy?”

“Who the hell told you that you’re a tomboy?”

“I’ve always been a tomboy. I like wearing jeans and sneakers. I don’t like makeup. I love sports, beer, and hanging out with the guys.”

“I already know all this about you. I know that you’re a woman who likes to be comfortable, who looks amazing without makeup, who enjoys sports and beer and has male friends. Who the fuck cares about any of that? You’re beautiful, and my mom will think so, too.”

“But I’m not like most women.”

“Thank fuck for that, gorgeous. If you were like most women, I wouldn’t want you like I do.” I uncross my arms and step toward her. “Now stop stressing about this. If you can handle your mom, I guarantee you can handle mine. She’ll adore you.”

“If you say so,” she huffs as I drag her against me and plant a kiss on her lips.

“I know so.” I kiss her again as she winds her arms around my neck.

“Is it weird that I missed you today?” The question is barely audible, but I hear it. Relief fills me—she’s feeling exactly what I am.

“Probably, but I don’t give a fuck about that, either.” I kiss her again and she smiles.

“I kinda like you, Wesley Jameson.”

“I just straight-up like you, Mackenzie Reed,” I say.

She smiles, dancing her fingers across my neck. Her eyes watch them move across my skin.

“Why don’t you call me Mac, like everyone else?”

“Because I don’t want to be like everyone else to you,” I say.

She looks up at me, and her lips part.