Pretty Girl Gone (Mac McKenzie #3)

Pretty Girl Gone (Mac McKenzie #3) Page 21

Nina had nothing to say during the drive home, which I took as a bad sign. It meant she wanted to have a serious conversation and was just waiting for the right moment to begin. I pulled into her driveway and put the Audi into park, letting the engine idle.

“Would you like to stay the night?” Nina asked.

“Isn’t Erica home?”

“Yes.”

“Then, no.”

“I have to think Rickie knows we’re sleeping together.”

“Maybe so, but that’s a lot different then seeing me in her mother’s bed when she’s getting ready for school. It’s tough enough raising a teenage daughter, teaching her the things she needs to know, without explaining that. Besides, it’s like what my dad used to say. ‘The best lesson is a good example.’ ”

Nina leaned across the seat and kissed me.

“I knew you were going to say that,” she said.

“That’s because I’ve said it before.”

“I like constancy in my men.”

“I have to tell you, that dress you’re wearing makes me consider the virtues of inconstancy, if you get my meaning.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“Please do.”

“How long have we been together, Mac? Fourteen, fifteen months?”

“Closer to sixteen.”

“In all that time, we’ve never discussed the M word.”

“Do you want to discuss it now?”

“Do you?”

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“We make a terrific couple.”

“You said that earlier.”

“But I don’t want to get married.”

“You don’t want to marry me?”

“I didn’t say that. I said—I’ve been married. It wasn’t fun. Even now I think about it and my hands begin to tremble. Look.”

Nina held her hand flat in front of me and it was trembling.

“I’m not your ex-husband,” I reminded her. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

“I know but—Listen, you don’t want to get married, either.”

“I don’t?”

“No. I don’t need to be married. I’ve been married and I learned the hard way that I can be happy without a ring on my finger. You’re the same way.”

“I am?”

“Most men, they need to be married. They need someone to take care of them. When they’re kids, they have their mothers. When they get older, they find wives. That’s why when a man and women get divorced, the man usually remarries within a year or something like that. It’s because they can’t be alone. They can’t take care of themselves. My ex-husband—Well, enough about that. But you, McKenzie. Your mother died when you were very young, so you and your dad, you guys took care of yourselves and did a pretty nice job of it, too, if you ask me. You’re the best cook I know who doesn’t do it for a living. You don’t need to be married.”

“There’s needing and then there’s needing.”

“I know. Only we haven’t reached that point yet.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“C’mon, McKenzie. Think about it.”

“I think you don’t want to marry me and now you’re trying to convince me that I not only don’t want to marry you, I don’t want to get married at all.”

“Do you want to marry me?”

“I’ve thought about it.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“You’re starting to annoy me, Nina.”

“Why can’t you just say it? You don’t want to get married.”

“I don’t want to get married tonight.”

“Neither do I. So, we’re both on the same page. What’s the problem?”

“I might change my mind tomorrow.”

“If you do, let me know. We’ll work something out.”

“What happens in the meantime?”

“Nothing happens in the meantime. We just keep on going the way we have been.”

This is a good thing, my inner voice told me. You don’t want to get married. The beautiful, intelligent, successful woman you’ve been sleeping with doesn’t want to get married, either. Yet she still wants to sleep with you. Most guys would kill for a relationship like this.

So why was I angry?

Despite her protests, I insisted on walking Nina to her door. I stood back while she unlocked it and slipped inside.

“Come in for a moment while I disarm the security system,” she said.

A few moments later she returned. She had removed her overcoat and her red velvet dress shimmered in the light behind her.

“Thank you for coming,” I told her.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

I hesitated for a moment.

“When you played piano, tonight—that was for me, wasn’t it? You were performing for me.”

“I just wanted to remind you that I was there.”

“I’m sorry I left you alone for so long.”

“It’s all right.”

“I should have been more attentive.”

“Yes, you should have.”

Nina stepped forward and kissed me. The kiss was warm and moist and lasted a long time.

“I should go,” I told her.