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“Hmm. Well. I think it would be safer if we buy one. It might be more like the blind leading the blind if we try to make a cake.” Thomas grinned at Lucas, who looked ready to carry on discussing a cake, then obviously thought better of it.
“Okay, I guess.”
They reached his cottage. “Let’s try and catch some fish for dinner instead.” He collected the rods and his fishing basket, took hold of Lucas’s hand again for the walk to the stream. It was his favorite fishing spot that he’d been coming to for more years than he cared to remember.
Chapter 18
Mack was alone with Dean, and all she wanted was to feel his lips on hers or, even better, his hands on her body. Smiling to herself, she perched on top of the kitchen table, fluffed her hair, stuck her chest out, and smiled in Dean’s direction.
“Dean.”
He turned to look at her and nearly dropped the plate he was washing. “Mack,” he croaked. “What—” He coughed, gulped, put the plate to one side, and very slowly walked over to her. “You are playing hell with my intentions, Mack. You know that?” Dean leaned in and placed his hands on Mack’s hips. He was a breath away from her lips.
Mack reached up and ran her hands through his hair, then smiled when she felt a shudder work its way through him.
“Mack.” He breathed heavily as his lips met hers in a slow seductive kiss. Their tongues met and mated as Dean took hold of Mack’s head to hold her in place while he deepened the kiss.
Mack wrapped her legs around Dean and pulled him closer.
“I’m not doing this.” Dean broke from the kiss.
“Doing what?” Mack replied, innocently.
Dean groaned. “You know what. I want you, Mack, but I want to take things slow. I want to spend time with you.”
“This is spending time with me,” Mack interrupted with a pout.
Dean untangled himself and stepped away, resting his back against the kitchen sink as he just stared at her.
“You. Are. Lethal. I have no intention of going anywhere so we are going to spend time together . . . without sex getting in the way.” Dean laughed at the look on Mack’s face. “For now, that is.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited her out.
“Oh, all right then. What do you want to do?” His eyes flared at her question, which Mack caught and snickered. “Just remember whose idea this was.”
“I won’t forget. Let’s grab our jackets and climb on the Harley.”
They’d spent the morning driving along the coastal roads. Dean pulled over now and again for Mack to take some photographs, although he’d been convinced that she’d only wanted to stop to grope his bottom.
Back at the cottage, Dean parked the bike up and waited for Mack to climb off before joining her. With their helmets removed and placed on the bike, he took hold of Mack’s hand, pulling her down the path to the beach.
Mack slid her hand out from Dean’s and moved in closer, wrapping her arm around his waist as Dean draped his arm around her shoulders.
“You feel good against me, Mack.”
“I know,” she smirked.
She really was driving him crazy. In fact, he considered himself an idiot for refusing her in the kitchen earlier. What in the hell had he been thinking? He’d actually been thinking that he wanted it to last. That he could, hopefully, build what had started with Mack into something more. That he didn’t want to screw it all up with sex getting involved, at least not until they’d gotten to know each other better.
“Dean!” Lucas shouted just before the Frisbee clonked him on the head.
Mack burst out laughing as Dean took off running after a laughing Lucas, who ended up falling over because he was giggling so much.
“Stop. Stop. Stop.”
“Are you sorry?” Dean asked him while they both wrestled in the sand.
