Page 47 of Off the Grid
“No, it’s nothing.” She glanced at the floor. Why was this making her uncomfortable to say?My nanny.Easy, simple.My nanny taught me.Would he understand? Or would he roll his eyes at how stereotypical her wealthy upbringing had been? Because that would hurt, to think she was just another spoiled girl with a nanny who had pretended to love her when really all she’d wanted was to be home with her own kids. McKenzie liked to think it had been more than that with Yolanda, even if the opposite was so often true. Instead, she asked, “What doesmijamean?”
Leo’s brows twitched in for a second. His ever-perceptive gaze sharpened. “It’s a shortened form ofmi hija, ‘my daughter.’ It’s a term of endearment, one an older person might use for a girl he or she cared deeply about.”
The discomfort within her eased, loosening enough for the rest of the words to come. “My nanny taught me how to make churros, before she was fired. Her name was Yolanda, but I called her Yoyo because when I was little, I couldn’t figure out how to say her name right. And she called memija.”
The hope in her voice was embarrassing. McKenzie didn’t even know what it meant. Did she want Leo to tell her Yolanda didn’t mind the nickname? That she loved her? That she missed her sometimes too? He wouldn’t know any of that. He’d probably heard this story a thousand times before, with a thousand different actors playing the same roles.
“God, what I must sound like to you. Poor little rich girl with a money-embezzling father, a mom who didn’t care, and a nanny she used to fill the void.” McKenzie turned away before he could answer. Leo had been through real trauma. He had real problems. Her life was probably a joke to him. “I check all the boxes, don’t I?”
“That’s not what I think.” He reached out and grabbed her hand. McKenzie shook him off, hating how her fingers trembled, how her voice shook. She wasn’t this girl, this weak, falling-apart, lost girl. Not anymore. His palm enveloped hers again, this time for good. “McKenzie, that’s not what I think.”
He tugged, spinning her around. McKenzie met his eyes, golden highlights ablaze within them. “What then? What do you think?”
“That you’re lonely,” he murmured, dipping his head so she couldn’t look away.
Was he right? She’d spent so many years relentlessly focusing on her career, convincing herself nothing else mattered, that all she needed was a kitchen and stocked pantry to be happy. What if it was just an elaborate lie she’d taught herself to believe? A cover for that hollow place deep inside, empty and yearning to be filled?
“That I’d be lonely too,” Leo continued, studying her eyes as she blinked rapidly to fight that uniquely human burn, the only kind of fire that brought water to life. “I may not have had much as a kid, but I always had my mom and my brother, no matter what. I know what it’s like to try to go it alone, now, as an adult, but I can’t imagine growing up without that security, that safe hold to guide me. And where you’ve ended up in life, successful, confident, beautiful inside and out, it’s a testament to your strength.”
The tear that had been threatening to spill dried at his words, and an unfamiliar glow settled inside her chest, bright as the sun, sneaking into all those cracks and crevices, filling them with warm light. He rubbed her hand with his thumb in a soothing rhythm, sending warm tingles up her arm and across her chest, making her feel grounded to something, as though he were her anchor to the shore. McKenzie tore her gaze away, not sure what to do or where to look, just that his eyes were too overwhelming. They saw her, saw through her, straight to all the secrets she tried to hide.
“It wasn’t all bad,” she whispered, trying to downplay the praise he’d given her. Surface compliments were something she could accept with a smile and a snappy comeback, but Leo’s words were something else. They sank deep, too deep. “I told you a little about my father, but my mother and I had some good times too. She loved fashion, and she’d take me on these amazing shopping sprees that made me feel like a princess when I was younger. And she was an event planner before she had me, so she always threw me the best birthday parties growing up. Two years ago, when she was on the committee for a holiday charity ball, she hired me to design the centerpiece for the dessert display. I made this amazing gingerbread replica of the New York skyline, and I heard her telling people all night,my daughterthis andmy daughterthat. It was the first time I ever really thought she was proud of me, you know? And she is, in her own way…” McKenzie paused, not sure where her words were going, if they made her life seem more full or more barren. It wasn’t a road she wanted to travel down anytime soon, so she put her blockade back up to keep her mind from wandering any farther. “So, yeah, that’s a long and overly detailed explanation of why I know how to make churros.”
“Right.” He dropped her hand instantly, as though her shift in tone had snapped him out of a trance. “Amazingchurros.”
“Would I make any other kind?” she teased, not quite feeling the lightness her voice implied. Leo seemed to sense it, or maybe he just knew they were stepping on dangerous ground and needed a swift retreat.
“You know what goes great with churros and chili?” he asked, slipping from the counter and landing easily on his feet. He took a step back, putting much-needed space between them.
“What?” she drawled.
“Alcohol.”
“For once, I couldn’t agree more.”
- 17 -
Leo
He needed a drink. Well, no, he needed a cold shower and an escape route, but with the storm still raging outside, a drink would have to do.
What was it about this woman? Her snappy intelligence? Her clear drive and conviction? Her unexpected vulnerability? It was like all three of those things had interlocked to form an unholy trifecta he couldn’t resist. Add her stunning beauty plus the fact that she could whip up desserts that made his toes curl at the drop of a hat, and he was a goner. A fucking goner.
Where the hell was that liquor cabinet?
He walked to the living room, leaving McKenzie behind, relieved to have a little bit of breathing room to get his head on straight. Outside, the sky grew darker. Rain poured down the windows like a gushing river. The fog was still an opaque curtain drawn across the forest, blocking it from sight. The thunder was softer, a little more distant, but the storm still raged. Which meant they were stuck here without any way to contact the outside world for the foreseeable future.
Ah, there it is.
Leo opened the glass-paned doors of the cabinet, taking stock. There was vodka, gin, rum, tequila, and—aha!—whiskey. Leo glanced at the label. It was a Macallan 12. Whoever owned this house had fabulous taste. He grabbed the bottle and turned, finding McKenzie’s gaze across the softly flickering light of a dozen small flames.
Damn candles.
“Whiskey?”
She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side. “What kind?”
“Macallan 12.”
