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“Yes. First thing in the morning,” Mac confirmed. “And Harrison? Make sure the restraining order includes all Prescott family members, employees, and representatives. I want a minimum thousand-foot perimeter around both Noah’s school and our home.”
“Already included. I’ve also drafted motions regarding attempted child abduction, which should get law enforcement involved. We’ll need a formal statement from Noah’s teacher and any witnesses.”
“I’ll contact the school tomorrow,” Kelsey said.
“Mrs. MacCormack, good evening,” Harrison acknowledged. “I should inform you both that once we file these actions, the Prescotts will likely contest vigorously. This won’t be a clean or quiet process.”
“I don’t care,” Kelsey said firmly. “They tried to take my son.”
“Understood.” Harrison’s tone was grim. “In that case, I’ll have the full package ready by eight a.m. The restraining order should be in place by noon. The takeover is already underway.”
“Good,” Mac said. “And Harrison? No mercy.”
“None whatsoever,” the attorney confirmed. “I’ll call when it’s done.”
After they hung up, Kelsey let out a long, shaky breath. “It feels strange to be hoping for someone’s downfall.”
“It’s not about vengeance,” Mac said quietly. “It’s about protection. There’s a difference.”
Kelsey nodded, then surprised him by stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his waist, letting her head rest against his chest. Mac hesitated only a moment before enfolding her in his embrace and cradling the back of her head with one hand.
“Thank you,” she whispered against his shirt.
“For what?”
She looked up at him. “For being an ally.”
Something shifted between them in that moment, an acknowledgment that what had begun as a marriage of convenience was evolving into something much more real. Mac leaned down and brushed his lips against Kelsey’s gently. Her eyes fluttered and she gazed at him with those blue eyes that had startled him at their first meeting. Now their icy edges were almost purple in the firelight.
Reaching up on tiptoe, Kelsey kissed him back. The tenderness grew into something more, and heat sparked in his chest and spread through his body. Not the desperate passion they’d shared before, but something deeper and foreign.
Mac’s hands framed her face, thumbs brushing her cheekbones as his mouth claimed hers more insistently. When she sighed against his lips and parted them to deepen the kiss, he felt it resonate somewhere beneath his ribs in a place left untouched since Marlene.
He hadn’t planned this, hadn’t expected this moment to transform into this smoldering need. But as Kelsey’s hands slid beneath his shirt, fingers tracing the muscles of his back, all rational thought receded.
His hands found the hem of her sweater and lifted it slowly, giving her time to stop him if this wasn’t what she wanted. Instead, she raised her arms, allowing him to draw the garment over her head.
The firelight played across her skin, turning it to gold. Mac’s breath caught at the sight of her.
She sank slowly to her knees on the rug, drawing him down with her. The firelight caught in her hair, turning the dark strands to liquid ink as she reached for his belt.
Mac captured her hands and brought them to his lips. “Slow,” he murmured against her fingers.
His shirt followed her sweater to the floor. Her bra. His jeans. Each article of clothing removed with careful attention revealed skin that demanded to be touched, explored. Mac traced the curve of her breast with his palm, watching her eyelids flutter as his thumb brushed across its peak. The soft sound she made ignited something primal in him.
He lowered her to the rug, his mouth following the path his hands had taken—the hollow of her throat, the sensitive skin beneath her collarbone, the gentle swell of her breast. Kelsey arched beneath him as his tongue circled her nipple, and she threaded her fingers through his hair to hold him against her.
“Mac,” she breathed, the single syllable containing multitudes.
He continued his descent, hands spanning her waist, mouth trailing kisses across her ribs, her stomach, the jut of her hipbone. When he reached the waistband of her underwear, he looked up for permission. The naked want in her expression was answer enough.
The last barriers between them fell away. Mac settled between her thighs, taking his time, learning her body’s responses. The way her breath hitched when he touched her just so. How her fingers tightened in his hair when his tongue found that perfect rhythm. The broken sound of his name when she shattered beneath his mouth.
Before she’d fully recovered, Mac moved up her body, claiming her lips again, letting her taste herself on his tongue. Her hands roamed his back, his shoulders, pulling him closer with an urgency that matched his own mounting need.
“Now,” she commanded softly against his mouth. “I need you now.”
Mac positioned himself at her entrance, the heat of her almost unbearable against his rigid length. He paused there, suspended in the moment, acutely aware that this crossing felt different, significant in ways he couldn’t articulate.
