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Mac sat in his Range Rover, his hands were gripping the steering wheel as he kept his eyes on the parking lot. The light classical music filtering through the speakers was comforting background noise, but it did little to calm the whirlwind of emotions churning inside him. He had been waiting for this moment for almost two long, agonizing years.
His breath caught in his throat as he spotted Jessie’s Lincoln Corsair pulling into the parking lot. The sleek luxury vehicle was understated but elegant, much like Jessie herself. She might beamong the wealthiest women in Manhattan, even the world, but she never let that define her. That was one of the things he had always admired about her. She would rather give away her money than use it on herself.
As she stepped out of the car, Mac was grateful for the tinted windows because he couldn’t help but stare. God, she was beautiful. Her long brown hair cascaded down her back in waves, catching the setting sun's light. She was a few inches shorter than his six-foot-two frame, with curves in all the right places.
She looked well put together—classy yet comfortable in her white khaki capris and tank top. She had a navy blue blazer folded over her arm. He wasn’t surprised to see her not wearing heels. Instead, she donned a pair of white flat sandals with a navy blue design that matched her outfit perfectly.
Mac smiled to himself. She hadn’t changed a bit. She still looked like the thirty-one-year-old he had met four years ago at a dinner party hosted by her father.
A pang of sorrow hit him as he thought about Jessie’s dad. Pete was a good and loyal businessman. Mac had nothing but respect for him. After all, Pete gave him his company’s first big security contract outside the government. The man had taken a chance on a new upcoming company. For that, he was grateful.
His thoughts quickly shifted back to Jessie as he watched her walk gracefully toward a yacht. She was the epitome of class and confidence. But there was something else in the way she kept looking around the marina. It was like she was on edge, waiting for something to happen or someone to appear. That action didn’t sit well with him.
He noticed the yacht she boarded wasn’t the same yacht he was last on. This one was larger, with four upper decks. It was gorgeous, just like his woman.
He grinned, wondering if she had even realized that tonight’s date was almost identical to the last date they had shared.
Looking at his watch, he realized he had about an hour to kill before it was time forMattto make his appearance. Getting a little more comfortable, he reclined his seat and closed his eyes as he ran through the list of questions he planned to ask Jessie.
Chapter Eight
“Excuse me, Ms. Jessie,” Martin announced, stepping onto the deck. His sudden presence startled her as she was deep in thought.
Sitting up in the chair, she turned toward Martin.
“Yes?”
“Your date has arrived,” Martin commented, a slight twitch of his lips lifting into what she would consider a smirk coming from the ordinarily serious Martin. The gesture was enough to raise her suspicions.
“Oh, God, Martin. Is there something wrong with him?” Jessie asked, feeling paranoid now. She knew she shouldn’t have let Lacie talk her into this.
Martin waved off her concern. “Oh, no. There is nothing to be concerned about. He seemsperfectfor you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Martin! What is that supposed to mean? You just met the guy.”
Jessie stood up and started pacing the deck. Her mind was running wild as she started thinking about all the things that would make him not so perfect.
“Martin, what if he’s got one of those weird laughs? You know, a screech or cackly laugh! Can you imagine? Every time I say something funny, and he sounds like a seagull in distress.”
Martin stifled a laugh, but his lips twitched as he listened.
She stopped pacing and turned toward Martin. “Or worse, what if he has an obsession with something weird, like collecting toenail clippings? She shuddered. “What if he’s, like, a close-talker with bad breath?” she blurted out, throwing her hands in the air. “The kind that gets so close you can feel his warm, smelly breath on your face every time he says the word ‘moist’—ugh!”
With every ridiculous thought, her nerves ratcheted up. She was almost ready to fake an emergency and run far away.
Martin doubled over, laughing openly. Jessie shot him a look and waved her finger at him.
“You laugh now, but wait until he takes off his Crocs, and you see that he has toenails that could double as daggers.”
Martin wiped the tears from his eyes. “Miss Jessie, you’re overthinking this. I can assure you that you are safe from dagger toenails, smelly breath, and distressed seagulls.”
Jessie nibbled her lip as she watched Martin. He seemed too confident about this guy.
“Well, I guess I should go and greetMattand get this date started,” she told him.
“Enjoy your evening, Ms. Jessie,” he told her, his eyebrows raised and that subtle smile returning as he turned and took his leave.
That was odd,she thought, and she walked toward the stairs.
