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“Yeah.” Mac rubs the back of his neck, and neither of us make a move to leave. His grey-blue eyes meet mine, and a little smile tips up his lips.
I don’t want to leave. Not even a little bit. “I didn’t know you were into pottery,” I say. “Dorothy said you were kind of famous.”
Color rises high on Mac’s cheeks, and he shrugs the comment away. “I don’t have much time to do it during the school year, but summers tend to be productive.”
“Oh! Do you have kids?”
“No, I—”
“Hey Trina, you coming?” Candice pokes her head through the door. “Sorry to interrupt, but apparently Fallon is putting lunch on at the café to celebrate our newfound love of pottery.”
“Yeah. Sure. Of course.” I glance at Mac. “See you Saturday.”
He nods, his eyes lingering on mine, then dropping to my lips. Before I can do anything stupid, I turn on my heels and walk away, but I stop when I get a few steps away. Glancing over my shoulder at him, I tilt my head. “My car—was that you?”
“Was what me?” Mac picks up a stool and stacks it on top of another, not meeting my eyes.
“Did you drop it off in town this weekend after Remy fixed the tire?”
Mac looks at me then, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He lifts a shoulder, then bends over to pick up a stack of stools. “You seemed like you might need a break. It was the least I could do.”
My heart grows so fast I can barely catch a breath. Through a thick throat, I squeeze out enough air to speak. “Thanks, Mac.”
He just nods. “See you on Saturday.”
“Yeah,” I answer, lingering, before finally getting my butt in gear and leaving before I really do anything stupid.
CHAPTER 6
Trina
Candice was right. Allie and Clancy, Fiona’s stepdaughter, are more than happy to spend time with my kids—and the kitten, of course.
Mr. Fuzzles, despite my grumbling about taking care of a pet, hasn’t been a bad addition to the household. Last night, after the kids had gone to bed and I was zoned out watching The Bachelor on TV, he jumped up on the couch beside me and stretched his little body next to my thigh, curling his tiny white paws under his chin. It was the first time he’d approached me, and it made my heart thump harder than it should. When I used a gentle, timid finger to scratch behind his ears, he made the cutest purring sounds I’d ever heard while his tail flicked over and back across my thigh.
Then, out of the blue, he jumped off the couch, gave me a look over his shoulder that I can only describe as pure, unadulterated sass, and sauntered away. As if he knew he was winning me over. Little shit.
Now it’s Saturday afternoon, and Toby and Katie are playing outside with Allie and Clancy. I just got back from the salon with the girls, and I can only hope that Hamish did, indeed, batten down the hatches. These ladies are not messing around. It’s barely past six o’clock in the evening and we’ve already made our way through three and a half bottles of wine and an industrial amount of mini quiches. The charcuterie boards have long since been demolished.
While I sit at my vanity, Simone lounges on my bed and Candice peruses my closet. Fiona is in the bathroom doing her makeup while Jen reads a book on my armchair, legs hanging sideways off the arm as she waits for everyone to get ready.
Candice lets out a long sigh and finally turns to me. “Trina, can you do that thing you do where you wave a magic wand and make me look amazing?”
I frown, laughing. “What?”
“You know, you tuck my shirt in and cuff my jeans and then do stuff with accessories and hair and I go from frumpy and old to a super-hot MILF in like ten seconds?”
“You want me to style you?” I tilt my head.
“Yes!” She stands in the middle of my room and spreads her arms. “Fix this.”
I smile and do as she says. She’s wearing a silky, draped top with an asymmetrical neckline, but her skirt sits too low on the hips. It doesn’t show off her tiny waist at all. I tap my chin, then dig through my closet for a high-waisted, faux-leather skirt that will hit Candice just below the knees. I tell her to put it on. That skirt is hot. On me, it hits scandalous mini-skirt territory and used to make Kevin cluck about my age.
Once she has it on, it only takes a bit of tucking, a few bobby pins in her gorgeous ombre hair, and a touch more blush.
“There.” I stand back and smile.
“Holy shit.” Simone sits up on the bed, glass of wine dangling between her fingers. “Do me next!”
