The hair prickled on the back of his neck. Resigned to the inevitable, he turned to face Mariah’s wrath. At least now he could do his job without the complication of secrecy.
“Hello, Mariah.” Those were the last words he managed to form before his eyes bulged out of his head and his mind turned to mush. She was wearing that blue dress. The one she’d worn at Cole’s wedding. The one that made her eyes sparkle like sapphires. The dress that had distracted him to the point he had no clear recollection of their conversation that night. Obviously, he was violently allergic to that dress.
Conversations hushed and every person filed out of the sanctuary, surrounding them like a crowd waiting for a fight to break out. Her sapphire eyes turned to angry blue slits, as her arms folded over her chest. He didn’t dare to breathe. She glared at him for so long he started to feel dizzy.
Her tongue dashed out to moisten her plump lips, and he swallowed a groan. Did she know the effect she had on him? Was she torturing him on purpose?
After an eternity that was probably fifteen seconds, her angry mouth twitched up on one corner. “Pewter, I’m glad you changed your mind and decided to come. I told you these people are all very nice. They won’t make fun of you for your social anxiety.”
What?
“Pewter doesn’t do well in large groups,” she continued, addressing their audience, who ogled Mack with wide eyes. “When he gets nervous the only thing that helps is when I sing to him.” She moved close and stroked his arm, displaying a smirk only he could see. “See, sweetheart? There’s no need to be embarrassed.”
Even with blood rushing to his face, he couldn’t help but admire her quick thinking. She truly was magnificent. But she’d made a critical error in judgement. She’d challenged him in front of all her friends, and Mack never backed down from a challenge.
“Hush little baby, don’t say a word,” she crooned, as titters of laughter rippled through the small crowd.
“Not that one,” he said, placing a silencing finger on her lips. “Sing the one you sang last night. The one about how you like my muscles.”
Her hand tightened on his arm, fingernails biting, even through his suit coat. “But this one is your favorite.” She attempted to start the lullaby again.
“Last night’s song was better.” He drowned her out, singing a popular country song in his best falsetto, while holding an imaginary microphone in his hand.
“I like you ‘cuz you’re big and strong. I wanna kiss you all night long.” He belted out the song, motioning with his hand to get her friends to join in. “Like your muscles—bulgy, flexy. Like you ‘cuz you’re super—”
Her hand slapped over his mouth before he sang the last word, but her friends finished the line, bursting with laughter.
“That’s enough singing, Pewter. Since you seem comfortable now, we should get on with the rehearsal.” She turned on her heel and hooked elbows with another woman he presumed to be the bride, dragging her back through the double doors. “Come on, Allie.”
As her friends filtered back inside, glancing at him over their shoulders, he came to a sobering realization. Mariah had taken his own gun out of his hand and shot him with it.
Chapter 4
Mariah did her best to appear cool and collected, but it wasn’t easy. She looked everywhere in the room except at Mack, but she felt his stare like a tickle on her skin. He was sitting on the front row, but she would’ve sensed his huge presence anywhere in the room, not just because of his size. At least six feet five, maybe taller, with shoulders that could barely fit through a door, the man was hard for anyone to ignore. But something about him had always drawn her like a piece of iron to a magnet. No, it was more like a moth to one of those bug zapping lights, because she was in trouble, and there was no way out.
She’d thought she was so clever, turning the tables on him. She’d been so angry—mostly at her brother, for sending Mack against her will. In her fury, she’d made the rash decision to strike back by embarrassing the hulk of a man. Her ploy had worked. She stifled a chuckle, remembering how red his face had turned when she’d started singing that lullaby. But he’d recovered quickly, parrying with a song of his own. Her plan to humiliate him had backfired, and from all indications, she’d stirred up a hornet’s nest. She glanced his way, and his mouth spread in a slow smile that sent warmth down her spine.
A hand grasped her arm and shook it. “Mariah! Are you listening?” Allie stuck her empty hand in her face. “This is me handing you my bouquet, so we can do the rings.”
“Got it.” Mariah grabbed the pretend flowers, determined to ignore Mack and pay attention. “So I have two jobs. Spread your train when you walk forward and hold your bouquet.”
“And you’ll be carrying Landon’s ring,” the pastor said. “I recommend putting it on your thumb. I’ll take it from you just before she hands over her bouquet.”
“Don’t be nervous, sweetheart.” Mack’s bass voice rumbled, vibrating something in her belly. “I’ll help you practice your part.”
“That won’t be necessary, sweetheart.” Irritated at the blood rising in her face, Mariah refused to look at him. But she knew he wore a huge smirk and his unsettling grey eyes had crinkles in the corners.
Allie’s cousin started singing the Lord’s Prayer, while the couple pretended to take communion together.
“Your boyfriend is so dreamy,” Josie murmured. “Does he have a brother?”
“I don’t know,” Mariah answered, without thinking. “Wait a minute… you’re married!”
“Just kidding. I love Jeremy. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a hot guy like Pewter.” Josie shook her head. “I have to say his name doesn’t really fit him. Seems like he’d be Iron or Steel or maybe even Granite.”
Mariah ventured a quick look his way. He was chatting with Allie’s mom, looking completely relaxed. Mariah would have to work hard to convince her friends Mack truly suffered from social anxiety.
Suddenly, he stiffened, and turned his head toward the rear doors, his hand sliding inside his jacket. One of the doors was swinging open… slowly… silently…
Mariah’s heart thumped against her ribs. Was it really an attacker? In her mind, she formulated a plan. She would grab Allie and Josie and run to the back of the stage, screaming for the others to follow. She knew there was a door that led to the choir room and an emergency exit. And she would pray Mack would stop the attacker and not get himself killed in the process.
The door opened further, and a man stepped inside, scanning the room. Mack’s eyes were trained on the stranger, his hand still inside his jacket, where Mariah assumed he must have a gun. Her mouth went dry, her vision narrowing.
The man’s hand went up, and he waved, smiling, his gaze connecting with Mariah’s cousin, who had just finished singing. She waved back at him and made her way off the stage. Mack’s posture relaxed and the crisis was over. But Mariah’s pulse was still speeding along, and she had to do yoga breathing to slow it. One thing was obvious from the incident… whether or not the threat was real, Mack believed it was. And Mariah had to admit she felt better knowing Mack was here. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so upset with her brother.