As if she hadn’t just given him the worst mindfucking of his life.
Woodenly, he pushed aside the covers and stood on numb legs. How had this happened? Why would this happen—to him? To him? He stumbled his way downstairs, dazed, and jerked on his clothes. Hearing Gayle rummaging around in the bonus room, now knowing what the equipment was used for, his stomach heaved. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t be in the same room with her. Silently, he let himself out the back door.
As he made his way to Lance’s house, the stupor her admission had caused faded, and the ugly darkness he knew as life took hold.
Why was he so goddamn stunned? This was the way shit worked. Four years of depending on nothing, on nobody, and he’d gotten along just fine. Then that woman had come in and fucked it all up. And as soon as he opened himself up again, what happened? Life coldcocked him hard right in the face, then stood over his dazed body and said, “You stupid motherfucker.”
He couldn’t argue.
Only a stupid motherfucker would spend years keeping his distance from everyone, only to unknowingly fuck the one woman who actively sought out—who actually chased after—the destruction that had shattered his life.
What were the odds? How was that even possible?
Of all the women in the goddamn world, the one, the only one, he’d responded to sexually was a fucking tornado chaser.
Mac stepped into the house and froze. Lance was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and eating a bagel. Had he known all along? Of course he had.
Mac released the door, letting it slam shut. Motherfucking asshole.
His friend jumped as his head shot to the side. Dropping his bagel on a napkin, he shoved the chair back and stood. “Jesus, man? You’re pale as a sheet.”
“Did you know?” was all Mac could get past his clenched teeth.
“Know what?”
“About Gayle.”
“I need more details, bro. You’re not making much sense.” Lance took a cautious step forward. “What about Gayle?”
“She chases tornadoes.”
His friend jerked back as if struck, then immediately shook his head. “No. You’ve got to be mistaken.”
“Mistaken? She’s headed to Texas to chase a system right this minute.” Fury overtook Mac and he fisted his hands, baring his teeth. “And she was fucking excited about it. People will die, but she’s over the goddamn moon about the possibility of catching video footage. It’s fucking disgusting.”
“Shit,” Lance whispered, and swallowed. “Did you—”
“Yes. I fucked her last night,” Mac cut him off, not wanting to hear his friend, wanting—no, needing—someone to blame.
A pained grimace contorted Lance’s face and he hung his head. Lance knew. And he understood the magnitude of how severely this had fucked Mac up. Good.
“I let her near me. The only woman I’ve been with since I left this fucking place is a goddamn adrenaline junkie, and her fix of choice destroyed my fucking life.” Mac pointed accusingly at his friend. “You told me she would be good for me.”
Lance lifted his head. Compassion and worry shone from his eyes, causing Mac to flinch. He’d had enough of that goddamn sympathetic expression to last a fucking lifetime. It was why he didn’t let people in.
“I would never have encouraged it had I known, Mac. I swear to that. She moved in six months ago. Tornado season has just started. All she ever mentioned was being a meteorologist and that she had her PhD. That’s it.”
It didn’t matter. What was done, was done. “When is this fight of yours?”
Lance blinked. “A month.”
“That’s all you’ve got, and then I’m the hell out of here.” He stormed toward the door. Just before he left the kitchen he turned and leveled Lance a deathly glare. “Keep that crazy, reckless woman away from me, do you understand? I won’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth if you don’t.”
Chapter Six
Three days later, Gayle turned the steering wheel of the SUV into her driveway. She spotted Mac standing on Lance’s front porch and her stomach jumped. She devoured the sight of him in black training shorts that couldn’t hide the strength of his thighs. The sleeveless, neon green fitted shirt hugged his chest and displayed the Celtic tattoo on his bicep beautifully. She couldn’t wait to trace those inked black lines again. It was insane how much she’d missed the man. She waved at him? but all he did was give a fierce scowl and stand motionless as a statue as she drove into the barn behind her house.
“Was that the guy?”
She glanced over at Rick, who looked as exhausted as she felt. “Yeah.”