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Healing His Heart

Page 26

by Alex J. Adams

“I’m so happy to meet you,” she said, and instead of a handshake, I got a full hug. “I’d love to say Mac has told us all about you, but he hasn’t. I didn’t even know he had a boyfriend.”

“I…I…” I stammered. Boyfriend? Where did that come from? Was that what he told them?

“Tilly. I told you, we’re just friends. Isn’t that right, Frankie?” I jolted at his touch.

“Um, yeah. Friends. That’s us.” I don’t know why that bothered me so much. It wasn’t like I thought we were anything else. We’d only just met and barely said two words to each other until Thursday night when we ate and I played piano for him.

“Well, whatever you are to him, thank you for coming today. You might have to get to the food first, though. He’s got a wicked appetite.”

“I know. I’ve seen it.” I recalled the kebab incident. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone cram as much into his mouth at one time.”

Mac turned towards me, an eyebrow raised, and I blushed, realising what I said.

“I meant food. He crams a lot of food into his mouth.” Mortified, I buried my face in my hands and willed the ground beneath me to open up and swallow me whole.

“Come on. Let’s grab a drink, and I’ll introduce you to the rest of the motley crew.” Mac took my arm and steered me toward a table laden with any drink you could think of. “Beer or a soft drink?”

“Soft drink.” I needed to keep my wits about me, but clearly, Mac didn’t have that problem and knocked the top off a beer.

An older man stood by a grill, apron on, tools in hand. That must be Mac’s dad; the fact was confirmed as we neared and he introduced me to him.

“Dad, this is Frankie. Frankie, this is Dad.”

“Call me Dennis. I can’t remember the last time you brought a man home, son. It’s good to see. I hope you’re both hungry. I have ribs, steaks, and chicken. Aileen has brought her infamous potato salad, and there’s cheesecake for dessert.”

“Dad makes the best ribs. Marinates them for hours before grilling them. You won’t be disappointed. Can I get you a drink, Dad?”

“I’m good, son. Go give Frankie the tour.”

With one practised movement, he flipped a steak on the grill. Flames and smoke billowed into the air; the unmistakable aroma of seared meat filled my nose. My stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten today, and I wondered how long it would be.

“Let’s leave him to it. I know exactly where to start with the tour.”

He led me into the house. The decor was old-fashioned, but not old. It suited the place completely. Everything had its place, with vases of cut flowers dotted here and there, giving a sense of tranquillity and peace.

I couldn’t imagine growing up in a place like this, but I was sure my life would have been different if I had.

Mac stopped dead before a closed door. “Do you trust me?”

I said the same thing to him on Thursday evening.

“Of course,” I said, not sure where he was going with this.

“Take my hand and close your eyes.” Weird, but okay. I did as he asked and followed him as he guided me through the now-open door. “Open them.”

The sight before me stole my breath. Nestled in the bay window was a grand piano. He said his dad had a piano, but I didn’t expect this.

“Holy fuck.”

CHAPTER NINE

MAC

“You can say that again. You can play it if you like. Mum used to play all the time before she passed. We would sit around and listen to her play.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” He reached for my hand, his eyes soft.

“She died giving birth to Freya, so she’s been gone nineteen years. It’s easier for us all if we don’t talk about her. For Fergus especially, her passing was a difficult time. But enough of that. I wanted to show you this and to hear you play again.”