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Not that leaving without checking in with me was a capital crime, especially since he’d obviously been sent on an errand. Just…I’d missed him.
Lovely. Spend a day with the dude and I missed him after a few hours. Why had I ever come home to live near my sister? I’d heard the rumors.
Hell, I’d seen babyrama expand my own sister’s waistline with the quickness. I should run far, far away.
Even if more and more, I wanted nothing other than to stay.
I hurried downstairs and had grabbed the last two full paper bags in the truck bed when Mav jogged down to meet me. He swiftly pried them out of my hands. As I opened my mouth to yell at him, he kissed me so soundly I couldn’t even remember why I was annoyed.
Which naturally made him grin as he somehow jockeyed both bags under one arm and snagged my hand with the other.
“How’s she doing?”
“Better than you would’ve been if you hadn’t come back here.”
He shot me a glance before he opened the side door and nudged me to go by him. “I knew you were the type to choose violence at the slightest provocation.” He ran his tongue around his teeth. “Why does that turn me on?”
I had to laugh. “Pervert.”
“I think that’s going to replace GQ as my nickname pretty soon.”
I shrugged. “Hey, earn the title, wear the name tag. Hey!” I glared at him. “You pinched my ass.”
“I would never. Scout’s honor.”
“You were a Scout?”
“Hell no.” He urged me up the stairs with his hand on the small of my back, still somehow holding onto the bags with his other arm.
In Brady’s apartment, my sister was digging into a jar of pickles while the dogs circled her legs and stared at her with appropriately woe-filled faces. I had to laugh because Francie was leaning up on her hind legs, her pink bow precariously drooping as her little tongue lolled out.
“Figures your dog is the ringleader,” I said under my breath, snagging a bag from him and dumping the contents on the counter.
Probably not the best move. A package of dog treats went sailing, ones that Francie apparently recognized because she pounced on them as if they were live prey.
“None of these are for you,” Mav said, nimbly grabbing the package as Daisy came to investigate.
“She has a jar of special blueberry peanut butter biscuits on top of the fridge.”
“Thanks.” He snagged the jar and dispensed treats to all three of them, since Daisy’s treats were super healthy and couldn’t harm the other two unless they were allergic to the ingredients.
Then he started questioning my sister about her symptoms and making her laugh and just generally being irritatingly sexy as he put away the groceries in mostly sensible places.
I mean, he stashed the toilet paper in a lower kitchen cabinet, but he was just operating by rote by then.
No one was perfect.
He followed up that feat by asking what we wanted to eat and whipping up a super basic stir fry with lots of veggies and chunks of chicken in a delicious sauce.
“Only thing I can make,” he said as he noticed me staring, leaning over to kiss me again despite my sister watching us openly while she ate water chestnuts as if they were M&Ms.
Pregnancy sure gave you weird cravings. Pass.
After we devoured dinner, Tab told us to leave. We ignored her, so she went to “rest her eyes” in the bedroom. I checked on her a couple of times over the course of the evening while we binge watchedReacherand ate copious amounts of junk food. She was sleeping soundly every time.
And maybe, just maybe, a girl started to get some ideas of a dirty nature. It would be a shame to waste perfectly good condoms.
I came back into the living room after freshening up in the bathroom—minus a shower, which I desperately needed—to find Mav scribbling in a notebook.
