Page 72 of Here & There

I’m touched he’s looking to me for advice. But I don’t really know what to tell him. No one looked out for me the way he wants to for Nate.

“What did your dad tell you in situations like this?” I ask.

Mac grimaces.

“You never had anything like this happen to you, did you?”

“My sister got bullied once, in the fifth grade.”

“And?”

“I skipped school and hung out outside her classroom all day. Followed her around like a bouncer. When the kid finally showed up, I told him I’d follow him around like that if he ever bothered her again, only it wouldn’t be for his protection.”

That’s kind of like what he did for me at the inn.

Mac’s quiet a moment, as if he’s having the same thought. Then he says, “What do you wish your parents would have done?”

Nowmy throat grows thick with emotion. “Honestly?” I ask. “I would have liked them to ask me what I needed. And if I couldn’t tell them…I guess I would have liked to have had someone help me handle it.”

Mac nods.

“Like you did for me,” I can’t help adding softly.

Mac meets my eyes, and for a moment, I have the absurd desire to get up and crawl into Mac’s lap. To lean in and have him hold me while I cry about stupid bullies then and now.

Heat flushes my face as I realize he’s staring at me.

I get up abruptly. He’s already got someone he needs to look after—his son. “I better get to bed,” I say, heading across the deck for my door.

“Hey, Shelby?” he asks to my back.

“Yes?” I keep my voice bright.

“Diane says the crew’s leaving tomorrow.”

It takes me a minute to understand what he’s saying. The ATV guys. They’re going home.

I can go back to the inn.

My chest cramps. Does he want me to go back to the inn?

Of course he does. He was doing me a favor. I’ve invaded his life, but tomorrow’s Monday, and it’s back to business. Me, out of his house. Doing an analysis of his business only. Does he remember he promised to take me to see his dad next week? Did he even mean that, or was it just a nice thing to say in the moment?

No, it’s more than a cramp. It’s more of a crushing feeling.

“Oh” is all I manage. “Okay.”

Mac’s chair scrapes as he stands up.

I fiddle with the door handle. I can’t seem to get it open.

Suddenly I feel Mac’s presence looming behind me, his heat spreading across my back. “Can I?” he asks.

I hesitate, then his broad hands encompass mine. He presses down on my thumb as he pushes the door in slightly. In doing so, his front brushes against my backside.

Heat flares up my back. “Thank you,” I say, slipping around the door.

But before I can close it, Mac says, “I think it’s going to take them a bit to clean up. Probably do them a favor if you waited another night or two to check in.”

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