Rolling her eyes, Emma said, “Honey, you were always one of two ways. Either really tense or really depressed. There didn’t seem to be much middle ground there. I figured that like your brother, you were probably eating antacids by the handful. Even when you were being all bitchy or condescending, I still wanted to give you a hug. Underneath the whole tough exterior, you seemed so sad. I think your brothers, bless their hearts, knew something wasn’t right, but in typical male fashion, they just didn’t know what to do about it. Now, even after attempting to strangle Mac this morning, you’re glowing. You look happy.”
Ava was deeply touched by Emma’s words. Especially since she wasn’t used to having heart-to-heart talks with anyone, and she had to admit that it felt good. Maybe if she had had a sister to turn to after her attack, it would have helped her recovery. Emma was right about one thing, though—talking about your feelings to a guy just didn’t happen, or at least it hadn’t happened for her with her brothers. She’d caught both Declan and Brant looking at her thoughtfully on more than one occasion through the years, but they never gave voice to their thoughts. Having their sister break down in front of them was probably right up there as one of their worst fears. She couldn’t really fault them, though. She knew that they loved her and would be there in a minute if she asked. They were good boys who had grown into outstanding men. Blinking back the moisture in her eyes, she said, “Thanks, Em, for everything. For listening to me and putting up with my moods every day. No matter what I say to the contrary, I love working with you and having you in the family.”
With a cocky grin, Emma said, “Yeah, I know. You Stones can’t resist me. I think it has something to do with my sex appeal.”
“Oh God,” Ava moaned, “not again.”
Chapter Eighteen
When Mac called her just as she was leaving the office, she had been both surprised and delighted by his invitation out to dinner for that evening. He had been at a client site, so their conversation had been brief. He was picking her up at seven and taking her to Ivy, one of her favorite restaurants.
As she stood in her closet, surveying the clothing hanging there, she turned her nose up in disgust until it hit her. The clothes that she had purchased with the girls at the mall were hanging in her spare bedroom. With a girlish squeal of happiness, she tore through her apartment and threw open the door to the closet. She went right to the sexy black cocktail dress that Emma had talked her into buying. It was deceptively simple in design, which only added to its appeal. The slinky material felt amazing against her skin, and the strapless bra that she was wearing pushed the creamy swells of her breasts up against the straight neckline of the dress. She loved the wraparound shoulder straps that flowed so easily into the back of the dress. The formfitting design was classy, but definitely sexy. She paired it with a pair of black Christian Louboutin peep-toe, heeled sandals that she had bought years ago in a moment of feminine weakness but had yet to wear.
When she looked at herself in the mirror, she screamed for a different reason. In her haste to find something to wear, she had completely forgotten that she had just stepped from the shower. She only had ten minutes until Mac arrived, and she knew that he wouldn’t be late. She ran to the bathroom and dried her hair as quickly as possible. She had no time left to straighten it. She left it to hang down her back in a wild array of waves. Hopefully, Mac would think the carefree look was intentional. Next, she applied a light base makeup, along with blusher and eyeliner. She had just added a coat of gloss to her lips when her doorbell sounded. Yep, right on time.
She teetered for a moment as she turned quickly on her heels but was able to right herself and continue on to the door. God, she hoped she didn’t land on her face tonight in the restaurant. Maybe flats would have been a better option, but these looked so good with the dress. She’d just walk slowly to compensate. Women did it all the time, right?
When she opened the door, both she and Mac gawked at each other. He stood before her looking good enough to eat in a gray suit with a purple silk tie. “Oh, wow,” she gasped as her fingers itched to run across the fabric covering his broad shoulders. “You look so . . . awesome.” But she swallowed hard at the sight of the scratches still marring his otherwise perfect face.
He stepped inside her entryway, still looking at her in a way that made her toes curl. “Baby, damn, look at you. You’re beautiful. I’m not going to be able to think about anything but fucking you tonight.” Running his finger down her cleavage, he said, “In fact, maybe we should . . .”
Grabbing his wandering hand in her own, she smirked back at him. “Oh no, Mr. Powers, you promised me dinner.” Feeling her cheeks color, she added, “Then afterward, I hope you will . . . because I want you too.”
With a growl, he drew her into his arms and locked his mouth on hers. When he pulled back, she had been thoroughly kissed and was completely rattled. She didn’t give a damn about dinner at that point and was ready to admit it, when Mac, seeming to know exactly what she was thinking, steered her toward the door with an evil smile.
“Come on, then, let’s go get you that dinner that you wanted so much. Remember?”