Marie Harte - Working Out

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. It’s seven in the morning!” his uncle roared as he stumbled into the kitchen and ripped the plug of the coffee grinder out of the wall.

“Yo, Ian. I told you I needed to take the car in this morning.” Mac plugged the grinder back in and finished grinding the beans. Then he started the coffee pot and brooded.

“I thought you meant later in the day.” Ian frowned. “So the invite to spend the night wasn’t for some early morning bonding. Thank God.”

Mac thought it funny people often thought of them as father and son. Especially since Mac took after him, or so he’d been told. Ian looked years younger than fifty-five. He lifted and ran like a maniac, a former Marine and proud of it. Like Mac, he took stock in action, not words. Ian had never hurt for female companionship, Julie’s betrayal notwithstanding. Mac loved the arrogant bastard, and he’d never forgotten how Ian had changed his life to take in his wayward nephew.

But Mac still liked aggravating the man. “Sorry, Uncle Ian. I forget you old people need your rest.”

“Fuck off.” Ian grumbled as he slammed through cupboards before finding a mug. He interrupted the coffee flow to pour himself a cup, then sat down and glared at Mac. “So where were you Friday night? You still haven’t said. Geo and I had planned on pizza night.”

“I had a date.” With the most annoying woman to walk the face of the planet. But that ass... Shit. He wanted another shot at her. At it—her ass. Just a body part. Lusting after Maggie didn’t mean he thought of the blond as more than a sexual companion.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Mac asked, irritated with the third degree.

Ian’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t get that tone with me.”

“Hey, you told me fuck off.”

“I raised you. I can tell you to eat shit, and you should say, ‘Yes, Sir,’ and get busy spooning it up.”

Mac grimaced. “Please. I haven’t eaten breakfast yet.”

“Pussy.”

Mac grinned. “Nice mouth.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ian guzzled his coffee. “So who’s the lucky lady?”

“Some chick. No one special.” He didn’t want his uncle nosing into his affairs. The big mouth had taken to training Geo, Shane’s younger brother, who had a huge crush on Maggie as it was. Geo would find out about Mac and Maggie, and he’d no doubt tell Shane Mac was “boning” her. Then Shane would pressure Mac to go easy on her tender sensibilities while pulling him into romantic double dates and couples crap.

Mac should go easy? Hadn’t he told Shelby Maggie might be the one to break his heart? Not that he had a heart to break, but she’d kicked his ass out after he’d given the woman orgasms. Who the hell did she think she was?

“Oh yeah. Woman problems.” Ian chuckled. “The silence is telling. I’d like to meet this one.”

“She’s nobody. Now how about you get your senile ass into the shower so I can get a ride to the gym? And hey, make a decision, would you? Are you in or out? You want me running the gym or not, because I need to make plans.”

Mac itched to move on. He’d been working at the gym, in limbo for the past two years, while his knee recovered and he settled into civilian life. No longer a part of the Corps, he nevertheless felt a need to surround himself with discipline and order. He’d been filling his uncle’s shoes at Jameson Gym while Ian resolved some investments and business decisions. But Mac was tired of waiting on his life. Being dissed by Maggie only made it worse. He’d waited on her ass long enough. Now he planned on showing her how to behave with her master. Time to take back control of everything.

Ian sighed. “Boy, I’m not sure of anything. I finished up with New York. I’m officially consolidated. But the gym… You’re doing a fine job. Why not keep on as you’ve been?”

“So you can putter around on vacation while I do all the hard work?” Mac snorted, well aware of his uncle’s antics. “Please. You’re paying me less than a temp’s wages, and I’m not even getting vacation time.”

“You’re getting pussy,” Ian said bluntly. “You should be thanking me.”

“Nice.” He scowled. Maggie was more than pussy. Aggravating, cute, sweet, and demonic. A woman with issues, because no one ever told Mac to leave. It was always the other way around. Always. Without fail. Until now.

“Anyway,” Ian continued. “After I drop you off today, I have plans. So you’ll need to get a ride home.”

Mac sighed. “I guess we’re done talking about my future. I’ll just keep trudging away while my family takes advantage.”

Instead of feeling bad, Ian stood and slapped him on the back hard enough to make him choke. The bastard had a mean right, and he’d never been intimidated by Mac. “Good boy. Now make me some eggs while I shower. And don’t burn them.”

After Ian left, Mac swore as he slaved over the stove. Ian wouldn’t appreciate the touch of curry or hint of parmesan in the eggs. He wouldn’t thank Mac for the added bacon and toast. An image of Maggie moaning over Mac’s stir fry suddenly came to mind.

“Maybe I should cook for her again before I spank the crap out of her. Quick on the draw my ass.” He slammed a few pans together while he finished his uncle’s breakfast, determined to show the woman who was boss, once and for all.

Ian watched his nephew banging pots with fascination. Definitely woman problems. Geo had been picking his brain Friday night. The high school senior had a bright future ahead of him. The boy was popular with the ladies, had a few leads on football scholarships and a giant brain to match his ego. A great kid who reminded Ian a lot of Mac. Or the way Mac used to be.

He frowned and wondered if he’d been to blame for his nephew’s change. Mac had been a steady kid, not taking after his loser of a mother or troubled father. As much as Ian had loved his brother Brian, Brian hadn’t been strong enough to handle Marissa. When Brian had died, Marissa had left without looking back, leaving Ian with an eight year old and no way to care for him except to leave the Corps and start over.

 At the time, Ian had thought his life had ended. Instead, it had just begun. He loved Mac to death, but the stubborn bastard couldn’t see past Ian’s mistakes to a bright future of his own.

He refused to commit to a woman, and if anyone needed an honest relationship, it was Mackenzie Jameson. The boy had been left too many times by those he loved. First Brian, then Marissa. He’d formed a tight bond with Julie, Ian’s biggest mistake and regrettable heartache. He’d poured his heart and soul into the woman. Unfortunately, so had Mac.

When Julie had left him, it had hurt. He knew he was partly to blame, but she hadn’t wanted to give them a chance. And she left not only him, but Mac as well. The boy hadn’t taken it well at all. Julie had acted as his mother for four long years before she’d fucked Ian over and split.

Still a kid, just a twelve-year-old wanting a mother’s love, Mac had lashed out. But the rebellion hadn’t lasted, and Ian soon had his hands full of a scholar athlete with too much passion to succeed. A good enough problem to have, except Mac kept a lid on his emotions. On the outside, he excelled. But on the inside, he’d never gotten past the lonely little boy fearing rejection.

 He went through relationships like most people went through tissues. Never a handful, but one at a time, one after the other. Mac never got angry or hurt over his breakups, because the idiot never let himself care. Until now. He’d certainly never cursed and banged cookware over a woman before.

Ian heard the name “Maggie” and suddenly understood so much more. Ah. Mac had a thing for the pretty little blond working at the gym. The man who didn’t get involved seemed awfully annoyed with a woman he refused to talk about.

A good sign. Ian made some noise before entering the kitchen once more. “Where the hell are my eggs?” He watched Mac take hold of his temper and settle down—on the outside.

Mac gripped the spatula with a fist the size of a brick. “Here.” He slid the plate across the kitchen island, and Ian caught it before it could go over onto the floor. “Don’t choke on them.”

“Lovely. Thanks, Mackenzie.”

Mac gritted his teeth. The boy hated to be called by his first name. His mother had picked it out. Ian liked to use it to remind Mac to overcome the past and learn from it. What didn’t kill you made you stronger. An idiom the Marine Corps enforced.

“You’re welcome, Ian.” Mac took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Now could we please get a move on? I have to drop off the car in half an hour.”

“Aye, aye, Top.” Top, a nickname for Mac’s last held rank in the Corps—Master Sergeant.

Mac sighed. “It’s gonna be a long fuckin’ day. I can feel it.”

“Right as rain.” Ian shoveled some damn fine eggs into his mouth and said around them, “What the hell did you put in this? Tastes like shit.”

Mac beat his head against a cabinet, and Ian chuckled.  Yep. Time to see a few friends and study the woman who had his nephew’s dick in a knot. Then a plan to make sure Mac stayed frustrated, annoyed, and connected to the woman. With any luck, Maggie might very well be the key to unlocking Mac’s heart.

Ian grimaced. That sappy shit had to come from a woman, because no way in hell could Ian handle another one of those “open yourself to love” talks he’d once had with the boy so many years ago. He shivered and pushed the plate away. “Well, Top. Let’s hit it.” He followed Mac’s car, plotting on his way to the dealership.

Maggie wiped the sweat off her face with a towel and smiled her goodbyes to the group leaving the workout studio. All in all, she’d had a stellar few days. She’d finished all but one of her paper sculptures for Kim and had been working out like a mad woman for Mac. Her added income would help with the Christmas shopping she planned to nail tomorrow. One shot shopping.