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“He’s busy right now. Um, some sort of family thing, and I don’t really want to get involved.”
Jake didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Feeling a little out of sorts and not really knowing why, Lily placed Mac’s cell back onto the counter and went back to the bedroom. She needed to find his keys and get her stuff, but after a quick search of the room, she realized that there weren’t any clothes or keys.
God, they’d stripped down to nothing on the dock and—her head whipped up as she groaned—their clothes probably ended up in the lake. Her dress, his clothes…his keys. What the hell was she going to do?
Another search of the kitchen and family room turned up nothing, and she knew that she had no choice but to walk down to the boathouse and see if maybe Mac had an extra set hanging around. There was no way she was going home in nothing but a freaking T-shirt.
Which brought to mind her second problem. The whole commando thing had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but it didn’t look so good now, because she had nothing between her butt cheeks and that sweet Crystal Lake air. She rummaged through Mac’s drawers and found a pair of boxers that she thought might do the trick. After pulling them up over her hips, she turned the waistband several times, but she still had to hold them so they didn’t end up around her ankles.
She didn’t bother looking in the mirror—she knew exactly what she looked like—and as she slipped his big-ass sandals on again, she slowly started toward the water.
It was the ultimate walk of shame.
She was so preoccupied with keeping her shorts up that she didn’t see the boat or hear the voices until it was too late. She squared her shoulders, deciding that if she looked like she didn’t give a shit, then he would think that she was schooled with this sort of thing and that she was totally fine walking around in his T-shirt and boxers. She stepped into the boathouse and froze.
Lily saw Mac right away. Shirtless. Cargo pants slung so low that it was obscene. He was barefoot—something she found incredibly sexy—and his hair fell to his shoulders in waves. Her eyes traveled over his muscular chest, down past his flat abs, until they rested on the indent just above the waistband of his pants.
Jesus. It was insane how hot he looked. All conscious thought fled as she gazed across the boathouse at him. He had a fishing rod in one hand, and his eyes did a slow once-over, starting from the top of her head and traveling downward. By the time he returned to her face, her nipples were standing on end and those parts of her that ached, not only ached, but they freaking throbbed too.
He didn’t say a word, but then again, he didn’t have to.
Lily walked toward him, cheeks flushed with need. “Hey,” she said softly when she stopped. Her right hand still clutched his boxers and his eyes flickered over her, resting on the bit of skin visible at her waist.
For several long moments he said nothing, and then he bent forward, brushing a light kiss across her mouth, before moving to her ear where his warm breath tickled the side of her face.
“This is a good look for you.” He paused and the goose bumps started. “The only thing better is you minus my clothes.”
Lily tried to swallow, but it was damn hard with the big lump in the back of her throat. She leaned into him, suddenly weak with need.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she whispered.
“Shit,” he muttered, tossing the rod onto the ground. “Darlin’, your timing sucks.” His arms went around her, and she melted into him. He was big and warm and solid, and she could have stayed like that forever.
Lily rested in the crook of his neck. “I know,” she replied quietly, wanting her words only for him. “I heard you and your sister arguing. I’m sorry.” She pulled back so she could see his face. “I know your nephew is here.”
Mac stared down at her for so long that her cheeks began to burn, and she attempted to pull away.
“That’s not it, Boston. Your timing sucks way worse than that and don’t you dare move…not just yet. I’ve got all kinds of things going on between my legs and damned if I want Cain and the other guys to see how fucking horny I am.”
Lily’s eyes widened, and she froze as a slow grin began to spread across Mac’s face. He bent forward again, his mouth near her ear. “Don’t let go of those boxers. I wouldn’t want these ten-year-old boys to see more than they should.”
Noises she’d not heard earlier penetrated the sexual fog that seemed to envelop her whenever she was around Mackenzie—the water lapping against the dock. Shuffling feet. A cleared throat. Or two.
Giggles.
Shit, little-boy giggles.
And then one of them whispered, “Holy cow, Mac’s girlfriend is hot.”
Lily wanted to dive into the water and disappear forever.
But she didn’t. She very carefully gathered the ends of Mac’s boxers and made sure that the T-shirt covered everything that it could cover. She shot a murderous look at Mac—because he was totally enjoying the whole thing—and turned around.
She saw Cain and his son, Michael. She saw a man she didn’t recognize with another boy about the same age as Michael—the man glanced away when she met his eyes, but the kid didn’t.
Cheeky little dude.
