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“I also like reading,” I add.
“Reading, huh?” He perks up, digging his thumbs into the arch of my foot and making me moan even louder.
Seriously. It’s official. This guy has magic fingers.
“What kind of books?” he asks.
“A little bit of everything, I guess.”
“Textbooks don’t count.”
I clutch at my chest. “I don’tonlyread textbooks.”
“Self-help books don’t count, either.”
“Who says textbooks and self-help books are all I read?”
“Call it a hunch.”
The guy looks more confident than the king of England as he smirks back at me, daring me to defend myself. But the truth is, Mack knows me too well, and he’s proven it. But allowing him room to gloat? I don’t think so.
Tugging my foot from his grasp, I sit up fully, tuck my feet under my butt, and tilt my head to one side. “Okay, Mr. Smarty Pants, what kinds of books do you read?”
“A little bit of everything,” he quips, throwing my own response back at me.
“Such as?”
“Mystery, sci-fi, romance, historical fiction. No horror, though.” His nose scrunches. “I don’t do scary.”
With a light laugh, I raise my hand in a stop gesture. “I’m sorry, did you say romance?”
His mouth lifts. “You caught that, huh?”
Realizing he’s serious, my jaw drops. “You actually read romance?”
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”
Scooting closer, I lean my head against my hand propped up on the back of the couch as I stare at the man in front of me.
Who the hell is this guy?
He’s joking. He has to be.
“You’re not joking with me, are you?” I push.
“Is there a problem with romance novels, my prickly porcupine?”
“Not at all,” I rush out. “I’m surprised, is all. I’ve never met a guy who reads romance, let alone one who admits it out loud.”
With a shrug, he scratches his jaw. “To be fair, I started reading romance books when Miley posted the cover of a book on her Instagram. I bought it hoping we could discuss it.”
He read a romance book in hopes of connecting with his daughter?
Swoon.
“That’s really sweet,” I murmur, my heart close to bursting at how freaking thoughtful Mack is, even when he hides behind nonchalance. Like it isn’t a big deal. Following his daughter’s Instagram. Showing interest in her hobbies. Trying to connect with her on a level deeper than most people will ever recognize.
“So, what’d you think?” I press.
