He wanted to strangle Dominic, who was supposed to be his best friend. What in the hell was he thinking having Ava on his bike? And he planned to teach her how to ride it? Un-fucking-believable. Mac wanted to call and chew his ass out, but he didn’t want to risk distracting him. Damn it, his friends knew how much Ava meant to him. He’d never thought he had to worry about any of them putting the woman he loved in danger. Was that the worst of it, though? Was Dom interested in Ava? Things had sure looked friendly enough with their bodies plastered together on that damn Harley. Seeing her slender arms gripping Dom tightly was enough to make Mac lose his shit. He would probably have done something completely stupid and careless like taking off after them if not for Gwen standing there looking as though she was putting two and two together and coming up with a solid four.

He stalked into his bedroom, jerking a pair of basketball shorts out of the laundry basket sitting on the floor. He might not be the best housekeeper, but he figured he got points for the clothes at least being clean. He made quick work of jerking off his usual work attire and pulling the shorts on. After a quick stop at the door to put on his running shoes, he made his way across the sand and to the nearly empty beach beyond. As his feet hit the wet sand, he quickly found his rhythm. He desperately needed an outlet for the anger coursing through his body, and it was either run until he dropped or go kill his best friend. Not much of a choice there at all.

Chapter Seven

Ava hadn’t thought about it being the weekend when she concocted her master skating plan. Mac wouldn’t be on his regular schedule today, which would make it a little trickier to get him to notice her on the streets of Garden City. She had also had a moment of panic when she thought that maybe he might not be alone. What if Gwen was with him? She’d already had the other woman staring at her on the back of Dominic’s bike last night. After she calmed down, she realized that she had one ace in the hole; she knew that Mac took his mother to breakfast almost every Saturday morning without fail. She had gone along with them a few times, and Mac always met his mother at nine. Therefore, at eight thirty she was on the practically deserted streets of Garden City in a bright pink tank top and black running shorts. She had her new speed skates, which the gum-popping teenager in the sporting goods section of Walmart had recommended. She had looked at the safety gear, but realized that Mac wouldn’t recognize her in a helmet. It didn’t really matter; she just intended to stand around, not actually do much skating.

The only thing she hadn’t taken into account was the fact that skates tended to roll even without you trying, and coupled with the incline on the sidewalk, things happened . . . fast. She was sitting on a bench when she saw Mac’s black Tahoe turn the corner. She jumped up quickly, hoping he saw her before he passed. As it turned out, she didn’t have to worry about catching Mac’s attention, because she caught the attention of everyone within a two-mile vicinity as she flew wildly down the sidewalk before wrapping briefly around a NO PARKING sign, then ultimately running into the bumper of a Dodge Neon and finally falling backward spectacularly onto her ass.

Birds were tweeting above her head like something out of a Tom and Jerry cartoon as she lay there stunned. “Honey, are you okay?” someone asked helpfully before yelling down the line of onlookers, “She’s conscious but has some road rash.” What does that even mean? she idly thought as she lay there wondering if anything was broken. Seemed she would have been better off on the damn Harley after all. She now hoped fervently that Mac hadn’t seen her. This was way too humiliating.

“Ava?” She blinked like an owl when she heard her name uttered in a familiar voice. She moaned as she turned her head to the right, blinking against the glare of the sun. Mac stood in the middle of the crowd looking as if he’d seen a ghost. His mouth was moving, but nothing appeared to be coming out of it. Maybe some silent swearwords. She was sure she’d seen him mouth something that started with an F. He seemed to shrug off whatever trance he had fallen in and jumped into typical Mac damage control. Kneeling beside her, he took inventory of the scratches on her body. “Where does it hurt, baby?”

She choked back a hysterical laugh before trying to pull herself up. “Where doesn’t it hurt would be a better question,” she muttered before her feet flew out from under her and again she landed backward on her sore ass. “Shit, that hurt.”

He put a hand on her stomach, holding her down. “Avie, let me take these damn skates off before you kill yourself. What in the world were you thinking?”

She looked at the crowd still standing around them. “Can we please save the lecture for when we’re alone? Just get me out of here.”

At that, Mac looked around, seeming to finally realize that they were creating quite a spectacle. He quickly removed her skates before leaning down to scoop her up effortlessly into his arms. “Wha . . . what are you doing?”

She sputtered as he ignored her protests. He carried her to his Tahoe as if she weighed nothing. “Mac, my car is right over there. Just let me down.”

He continued to ignore her, shifting her weight on his hip to free his hand for opening the door. He settled her on the seat, slamming the door on her complaints. He stalked back through the crowd, picking up the skates and throwing them in the backseat before getting in the driver’s side. He turned the big SUV back toward his house before punching a button on his hands-free phone mounted on the dash. When Ava heard his mother’s voice come through the speaker, she slunk down farther in her seat, hoping Mac wouldn’t tell her what had happened. Luckily, he just said that something had come up and he’d call her later.

They parked in front of his two-story beach house. “Stay where you are,” Mac ordered as he left his seat before coming around to her side of the car. One look at his tight face was enough for her to keep her mouth shut and let him carry her again. Normally, she would have taken a moment to appreciate the beauty of the rustic house with cedar siding that Mac had so painstakingly restored, but today it passed by in a blur. He refused to put her down while he struggled to get the key in the front door and disable the security alarm.

Finally, they made it into the spacious living room, where he sat her down gently on the couch. He left the room, coming back a few moments later with a first aid kit and the same scowl sitting heavily on his handsome face. Wow, he looked seriously pissed. He lowered his large form to the coffee table in front of the couch and barked out, “Take your shirt off.”