I walked over to the empty seat next to him and stood behind it. “No thanks to you. Appreciate you leaving me out there to die with the rattlesnakes.” I tried to sound mad, but the food looked and smelled so good I couldn’t concentrate on my anger enough to make it believable.
“You recall that I tried to offer you a lift…” He turned to face me and I worked at not feeling sick over the pieces of rib schmeg stuck in his beard. He looked like a complete and utter savage, making me wonder what Mack’s family could possibly be thinking by wanting him here at their table.
I looked across the table at Mack and then quickly shifted my gaze to the mashed potatoes when he caught my eye. Those damn blue eyes. Why do they affect me like this? I felt like I had a fever, my skin suddenly going sensitive and the heat rising up inside me. My master plan to use the girl in the photo to force his hand seemed flimsy. He definitely wasn’t coming across as a man who could be easily intimidated. Why did I remember him being so much more easygoing? Was it because I was so drunk or because he’d changed?
I turned my attention back to Boog. Looking down at him from behind my seat was like taking a visual cold shower, helping me get a grip on my emotions. “Yes, but you failed to mention when you offered that lift that the road was straight out of Baghdad and not suited to travel by a Smart Car.”
He snorted. “Foreigners.” Taking a bite of his rib, he continued to speak, not letting the fact that he had a mouthful of meat bother him in the least. “I got news for you … a Smart Car isn’t suited to travel anywhere around here, not even the highway. With all the four-wheel drive trucks around, you could get yourself hurt if you got in an accident. Better leave the Smart Cars on the golf course where they belong.”
Mack shifted in his seat and I looked up at him again. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks as the muscle in his jaw pulsed out a few times. I was affecting him as much as he was affecting me, only I think my presence was making him angry whereas his was making me think stupid, stupid things that girls who are engaged to other men should not be thinking. I pulled the chair out and stood in front of it at the table.
Boog continued. “Next time a gentleman offers you a ride, you should take him up on it and not be so big city independent about it.”
“The first time one does, I will.” I smirked, taking my chair at the edges and pulling myself up closer to the table. I was so distracted from Boog’s scolding and my own witty comeback, I sat down from higher up than I intended and my butt made a loud slapping sound on the wood. I blushed again, too embarrassed to look at anyone. There was already at least one guy at the table who’d noticed my big back yard, but now the whole family was aware of the fact that my butt-cheek to chair-seat ratio was a little butt-heavy.
“Welcome to the ranch of Clan MacKenzie,” said the big man at the head of the table, sitting just to my left.
I jerked my head in his direction, glad for the distraction. “You’re the patriarch, I take it.” I held out my hand. “My name’s Andie. Andie Marks.” His grip was firm and warm.
I snuck a glance in Mack’s direction in time to see his jaw bouncing out a couple times as he clenched his teeth together, but then he put a rib up to his mouth and covered the lower half of his face, making it impossible for me to tell what he was feeling.
“I’m Angus,” said Mack’s father. “My boys are Gavin - he goes by Mack - and Ian. My wife over there is Maeve, and this is Mr. Atticus Boegman, but everyone just calls him Boog.”
I nodded at everyone. “Nice to meet you all.” For the second time, some of you. Mack was doing a great job of acting like he couldn’t give a flying fudge about me being at the table sitting directly across from him, with his casual nod and sudden interest in the arrangement of his peas on his plate. I watched distractedly as he pushed them around in different formations.
Angus handed me a big heavy bowl of mashed potatoes with little green and black flecks in them. “So, Andie Marks, tell us what brings you to Baker City. I take it you’re not from around here.” He smiled, and for the life of me, I couldn’t detect a trace of mockery there in his expression, despite the fact that Boog had done a fine job of setting me up as the out-of-town big city girl goofball. Or maybe it was me who’d done that. It didn’t matter either way; I was out of my element and definitely a foreigner. The quicker I could get out of here, the better it would be for everyone.