THE TWO MEN ROLLED AROUND in the dirt unencumbered, everyone making room for them to fight.
“What are you doing?!” I screamed as I scrambled out of the way, not sure which of them I was even talking to. Maybe it was the bloodthirsty crowd I was appealing to, but regardless, it didn’t matter. This fight was going to happen, and it was obvious no one was going to interfere.
“Stop! Okay, stop!” I got on my feet and held out my hands towards them, trying to see a way to get in between them.
Mack and Bradley completely ignored me, locked in an embrace that looked like a fighter’s waltz, each of them taking turns hitting each other in the gut.
Maeve was suddenly at my side, putting her arm around me. “Just let them work it out,” she said, pulling me back away from them.
“But it’s barbarian,” I exclaimed, watching as Mack landed a solid punch to Bradley’s cheek, snapping his head back and making him stumble.
“Sometimes it’s the fastest, easiest way for them to figure things out.”
“Maybe for Mack, but not Bradley.” His Brooks Brothers shirt was getting destroyed, already covered in ground-in dirt and grass stains. One of his loafers was off his foot and sitting on the outskirts of their fighting ring. I’d never seen him lose his temper, ever. It’s why he was still a part of my lifeplan, or had been before I’d come out here.
She snorted. “Sorry, sweetie, but even I can see that city boy’s a scrapper. He’s had plenty of fights of his own, I can promise you that.”
Once I paid closer attention, I realized she was right. Mack was winning, but Bradley wasn’t going down easy. Every time I thought it was going to be over, Bradley came back at Mack again and caught him unawares. They were almost evenly matched, but in the end, it was Mack who had the stamina and strength to win out.
Angus, Ian, and Boog moved in to separate them when they were doing more hugging than fighting. Both of them were bleeding in the face and across their knuckles, and neither one of them could stand up straight anymore.
Maeve squeezed me once before letting go. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s get your men cleaned up.”
“They’re not my men,” I said petulantly, embarrassed she saw them that way.
“They are until you officially let them go.”
I followed behind her reluctantly as the men led the fighters up the front steps and into the house. I’d thought the scene outside in front of everyone was embarrassing, but something told me this one was going to be worse. Now it was just the close MacKenzie family there to witness my shame. There would be no buffers and no running away this time.
Chapter Forty-Five
WHEN I GOT INTO THE kitchen, Bradley and Mack were seated at the dining table. Maeve put together two ice packs and handed them over, letting them do their own dirty work of tending to their bruised faces and egos.
I walked over quietly and stood in front of the table, staring at each of them in turn.
They looked at each other and then at me. No one said a word until Angus sat down at the head of the table and gestured to the seat next to him. “Have a seat, young lady.”
He sounded so much like an imposing father figure, I couldn’t ignore his order. I pulled the chair out and sat down. I looked him right in the eye, waiting to hear my sentence.
He smiled. “Don’t look so glum, little one. You have two good looking, strapping young men willing to fight for you sitting right here at this table.”
A watery smile made it to my lips. “That’s part of the problem, I think.”
His smile didn’t leave. “All you have to do is look them in the eye and tell them how you feel. I’m right here for you.” He reached out and put his giant hand over mine, enveloping my small fingers in his warmth. My heart spasmed painfully in my chest.
I nodded, taking a deep breath and lifting my eyes first to Mack and then Bradley. They were still angry at each other, but when they looked at me, their expressions softened.