Marry Me, Mackenzie!. Joanna Sims

immediately released her arm, hands up slightly as if he were being held up at gunpoint. “Sorry about that.”

      Mackenzie self-consciously tugged on the front of her oversize Nothin’ But Cupcakes T-shirt. “No, I’m sorry.”

      Dylan smiled at her. “Let’s just call it even, okay?”

      That was classic Dylan; always trying to smooth things over with a smile. He wasn’t as lanky as he had been in his early twenties. His body had filled out, but he was fit and had the lean body of an avid California surfer. And he still had that boyish, easygoing smile and all-American good looks. Even back in middle school, Dylan had been popular with absolutely everyone. Male or female, it didn’t matter. He had always been effortlessly charming and approachable. Right then, on Dylan’s porch, the last ten years melted away for Mackenzie, but she knew that he obviously hadn’t recognized her.

      Still smiling, Dylan stuck out his hand to her. “I’m Dylan. And you are?”

      Instead of taking his offered hand or responding, Mackenzie stared at him mindlessly. It felt as if all of her blood had drained out of her head and rushed straight to her toes.

       I’m not ready for this...

      Dylan’s smile faded slightly. He gave her a curious look and withdrew his hand. “You must be one of Jordan’s friends. Why don’t you come in so we can track ʼer down.”

      Mackenzie was screaming in her mind, demanding that her stubborn legs take a step forward as she plastered a forced smile on her face.

      “Thank you.” She squeaked out the platitude as she skirted by Dylan and into the condo.

      “Mackenzie!” Jordan wound her way through the crowd of people gathered in the living room and threw her arms around her cousin. “Thank God you could come! You’re the best, do you know that?”

      “Jordan!” Relieved, Mackenzie hugged her cousin. “Okay—first things first—I have to see this ring in person.”

      Jordan held out her hand and wiggled her finger so her large cushion-cut blue diamond engagement ring caught the light.

      “Jordan, it’s beautiful.” Mackenzie held Jordan’s left hand loosely while she admired the large blue diamond.

      “I know, right? It’s ridiculous.” Jordan beamed. “It’s way too extravagant. Ian really shouldn’t have...but I’m glad he did.”

      “Dylan.” Jordan draped her arm across Mackenzie’s shoulders. “This is my awesome cousin, Mackenzie. She owns Nothin’ But Cupcakes, home of the famous giant cupcakes. Look it up.” To Mackenzie she said, “Thank you again for bringing us emergency cupcakes.”

      “Of course.” Mackenzie kept her eyes trained on her cousin in order to avoid making eye contact with Dylan. For the first time in a long time, she wished she still had her thick tortoiseshell glasses to hide behind.

      “Mackenzie—this’s Dylan Axel... Dylan is the Axel in Sterling and Axel Photography. He’s also a certified investment planner. He totally has the Midas touch with money, so if you ever need financial advice for your business, he’s your man.”

      Mackenzie had to make a concerted effort to breathe normally and braced herself for Dylan to recognize her. But when she did finally shift her eyes to his, Dylan still didn’t show even a flicker of recognition. He didn’t seem to have the first clue that he was being introduced to a woman he had known in the biblical sense of the word. Instead, he looked between them with a slightly perplexed expression on his good-looking face. No doubt, he was wondering how she had managed to sneak into gorgeous Jordan’s gene pool.

      “Now I know your name.” Dylan held out his hand to her once more. “Mackenzie.”

      The way Dylan lingered on her name sent her heart palpitating again. He was looking at her in the way a man looks at a woman he finds attractive. Dylan had never looked at her this way before. It was...unsettling. And yet, validating. It was undeniable proof that she had truly managed to eradicate the obese preteen with Coke-bottle glasses and tangled, mousy hair that she had once been.

      Mackenzie forced herself to maintain the appearance of calm when she slipped her hand into his. She quickly shook his hand and then tucked her hand away in her pocket. Inside her pocket, where no one could see, Mackenzie balled up her fingers into a tight fist.

      Oblivious to her cousin’s discomfort, Jordan rested her arm across Mackenzie’s shoulders. “Do you need help bringing in the cupcakes?”

      Mackenzie nodded. “You wanted a ton. You got a ton.”

      Jordan walked with Mackenzie through the still-open front door. She tossed over her shoulder, “Give us a hand, Dylan, will you?”

      “We can manage,” Mackenzie protested immediately.

      “I’m not about to let you ladies do all the heavy lifting by yourselves,” Dylan said as he trailed behind them.

      As they approached her car, Dylan whistled appreciatively. It was no surprise; men always commented on her car.

      “The 1960 Chevrolet Biscayne Delivery Sedan painted with the original factory turquoise from back in the day. Nice.” Dylan ran his hand lovingly over the hood of her car. “She’s yours?”

      Mackenzie nodded quickly before she walked to the back of the delivery sedan; she unlocked, and then lifted up, the heavy back hatch of the vehicle.

      “Who did this restoration?” Dylan asked as he leaned down and looked at the interior of the Chevy.

      “A place up near Sacramento.” Mackenzie wanted to be vague. Her brother, Jett, who had restored her Chevy at his hot-rod shop, had been friends with Dylan back in middle school. In fact, the last time Mackenzie had seen Dylan Axel was at Jett’s wedding nearly eleven years ago.

      “Well—they did an insane job. This car is beautiful. I’d really like to take a look under her hood.”

      “Hey!” Jordan poked her head around the back of the car. “Are you gonna help us out here, Axel, or what?”

      “I’m helping.” Dylan laughed as he strolled to the back of the vehicle. “But you can’t blame a guy for looking, now, can you?”

      “Here. Make yourself useful, will ya?” Jordan rolled her eyes at him as she handed him a large box of cupcakes. “And, no, I don’t get the obsession with cars that went out of production decades ago. They don’t make them anymore for a reason. Now, if you want to get excited about a motorcycle, I can totally relate to that!”

      Dylan took the box from Jordan but smiled at Mackenzie. “Well—your cousin gets it, don’t you?”

      Mackenzie looked directly into Dylan’s oh-so-familiar crystal-clear green eyes for a split second. “I get it.”

      “See!” Dylan smiled triumphantly at Jordan. “She gets it.”

      “Well—sure. Her dad and brother raised Mackenzie in a garage. Basically, she’s been brainwashed. No offense, cuz.”

      “None taken.” Mackenzie balanced the large cupcake box in the crook of her arm while she pulled down the heavy hatch door. Mackenzie gave the hatch door a bump with her hip to shut it completely.

      “Okay,” Mackenzie said, wanting to speed things along. “Let’s get the troops out of the sun.”

      Dylan kept pace with her as they walked back to the condo. “I haven’t heard someone say that since I was a kid.”

      “Really?” Mackenzie pretended to be fascinated with the neighbor’s house. “I hear it all the time.”

      That was one of her father’s favorite phrases; no doubt, Dylan had heard him use it a zillion times before he moved away from the neighborhood. Her father had restored vintage cars as a hobby in the garage