Winning Love (Love to the Extreme, #3)

He took a deep breath, tugged his hand from hers, and scrubbed his face. A moment of hurt pinged her chest, but she let it go. People wanted comfort in their own way. Mac didn’t seem to want any. The fact he let her hold his hand, even briefly, was a small miracle.

“The first crash of thunder today brought every damn memory raging back. It’s being back in the fucking place. It’s just one miserable reminder after another of the worst day of my life.” He suddenly glared at her, and there was an accusation in his eyes she didn’t understand. “And you go after those things. How can you deliberately get close to a tornado? Be so damn excited about the possibility of one forming? Don’t you understand the pure devastation those things bring to people’s lives?”

Ah. So that was his issue with her.

Not her unconventional lifestyle but that she chased tornadoes. Okay, not the first time her job had gotten a bad reaction…though never quite to this degree before.

But how would he react when he found out why she did what she did?

“Oh, I understand.” She gave a sad smile. “All too well.”

He frowned, his anger and accusation slowly giving way to uncertainty. “What?”

“Seven years ago, I lost my parents, my sister, and the man I’d been dating since my senior year in high school to an EF-5 tornado.”

She didn’t bother with the details. Now wasn’t the time. This was about him. She just wanted him to know she truly did understand.

Mac sat up, staring at her. “Lost them…to a tornado?”

“I was finishing up my master’s in atmospheric science at the University of Alabama in Huntsville when it happened. Weather has always fascinated me, but I had never chased until the year after they died.” She sighed, and at his silent query, she explained, “I needed to know…how tornadoes worked. Why they happened. I wanted to further tornado research so others didn’t have to die the same way as the people I loved. I’ve dedicated the last six seasons to doing that. Facing them head-on helped me a lot in dealing with what had happened. Maybe you should try it.”

He jerked back. “Fuck, no. I have no desire ever to experience one of those bastards again. No way would I deliberately seek one out.”

Lifting her palms, she said, “Just a suggestion. I get it. But if you change your mind, the invitation is there.”

“I won’t be taking you up on it. What you do is fucking crazy.”

He’s seen even more than you have. The reminder calmed her and kept her from responding to the insult. “What I do has helped a lot of people, Mac. You may not understand it, but don’t belittle the research I’ve invested the last six years of my life in, simply because of your past.”

He stared at her for a moment, then swallowed and gave a jerky nod. “Fair enough.”

Her feelings still smarted from his attack earlier that afternoon, but knowing the events that drove him had pretty much wiped away her anger.

“So, can we call a truce?” she ventured.

A long pause followed, then he said, “This…this thing between us…it’s not happening. It can’t. Not like the other night.”

The renewed hurt that pierced her chest surprised her. “Because I’m a risk taker?”

He exhaled. “I can’t start caring about you, Gayle. I can’t go through that horror again. And you’ve got to admit, with your job, the chances are pretty good.”

Caring about her? She frowned. She really hadn’t considered that night as anything more than she’d enjoyed with other men. She simply liked sex. But the implication of Mac’s words tweaked her chest in an odd way. The understanding smile she offered him felt fake, strained. “Fair enough,” she parroted his words. “But can we be friends?”

“We can try.”

Try. At least the warning was there this time, right? She wouldn’t be blindsided. She’d make sure not to get too attached. Make that, at all. With the emotions his struggles had stirred in her, she was at risk of starting to care about him. She had such a damn soft heart, wanting nothing more than to support and comfort when something bad was going on with the people she called friends.

But men tended to trample all over women like her. Thankfully she had learned her lesson, had learned to keep her distance and reserve her compassion for those who truly appreciated it.

He’d warned her, and she planned to heed the warning. The man may have gone through hell, but if he couldn’t get past her job to see who she really was beneath all that, then they had no possibility of any kind of real friendship.

Oh, yeah. She would tread very carefully around Mac Hannon.





Chapter Seven