AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But I shouldn’t.
Kevin was a jerk, but he was also right. What if I’m getting involved with Mac too soon? I should be focused on my kids, preparing for the school year, finding a job.
But Mac’s eyes slide down my body, taking in the tight jeans and the draped, loose-fitting tee that exposes one of my shoulders. There’s heat in his honey-colored eyes that I can’t ignore, and I find myself speaking.
“Yeah,” I hear myself say. “I’d like that.”
I’m rewarded with the sexiest grin I’ve ever seen. Mac’s full lips curl up at the corners as his eyes glimmer, the crinkles at their corners deepening. It should be illegal to be that sexy. With dark jeans, his leather jacket, his motorcycle boots, and hair that looks like it would feel good to run my fingers through, is there any wonder I agreed?
And before I can change my mind, Candice’s hands appear on my shoulders. She not-so-gently nudges me closer to the sexy motorcycle man in front of me as Mac extends a helmet.
I glance over my shoulder to see Simone giving me a big thumbs-up. So, with a sigh and one last look at Margaret and Hamish, whose heads are still angled close together, I turn to Mac and nod. “Let’s do it.”
His grin widens to a smile, and a thunderbolt hits me right in the middle of the chest. Way, way too sexy for his own good. It should be illegal.
Helmet fitted over my head, and Dorothy’s oversized leather jacket—which I discover is actually Mac’s—over my shoulders, I swing my leg over Mac’s bike and shimmy forward, sliding my hands around his waist. This time, I don’t hesitate. It feels all too natural to have my arms around his waist and my cheek pressed up against his shoulder.
“Hold on tight,” he reminds me, and I can’t quite hide my smile as I turn to rest my chin on his shoulder and let him take me away.
When Mac finally stops the bike, I feel like I just ran a marathon. My blood is heated, my arms sore from squeezing him so hard, and my thighs permanently branded with the feel of his legs against them. There’s something intensely erotic about being on a bike with him, feeling the roar of the engine between my legs, knowing I’m completely at Mac’s mercy.
He took us around bends, on the highway, and wove through the forest until we got to a familiar lookout point above the Pacific Ocean. I stumble off the motorcycle and giggle, giddy with adrenaline as I remove my helmet and take a deep breath.
“Better?” Mac asks, studying my smile as if he wants to remember it. As if he’d never get sick of looking at me.
I nod. “Much better.”
“Your ex is an asshole.”
A surprised laugh falls from my lips. I clap my hand over my mouth and shake my head. “You shouldn’t say that.”
“Why not?” He takes a step toward me, grabbing the helmet from my hands to rest it on the motorcycle seat. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
I shrug, turning to the ocean crashing at the foot of cliffs below, if only to avoid his piercing gaze. “I… I don’t know. I don’t like bad-mouthing people.”
“Even if they deserve it? Even if they insult you in a room full of people? Even if they say things that no man should ever say to a woman?”
I bite my lip and ignore how much his words affect me. When was the last time a man actually defended me like that? Actually cared?
Mac meets my gaze for a moment, then angles his head toward the edge of the parking lot, where a small shed-like building stands.
My eyes light up. “Ice cream!” Then I laugh, because I had the exact same response to the treat as my seven-year-old daughter.
Mac, smooth as anything, intertwines his fingers with mine (swoon!) and leads me across the lot. There’s an old couple in front of us who order with expert precision, and I wonder how many times they’ve gotten ice cream together. Then Mac steps up and leans a muscled forearm against the chest-height counter.
The young girl behind the counter arches her brows, color rising high on her cheeks at the sight of the man in front of her. “Wh-what can I get for you, Mr. Blair?”
Somehow, it doesn’t surprise me that she knows him. Mac flashes a smile. “Hi Kaylee. How has your summer been?”
“Really good, but my arm is pretty sore from scooping.” The girl lets out a little giggle, her cheeks turning a brighter shade of red. I bite my lip. It’s cute seeing her reaction, but I’m glad I’m no longer a young teenager. She points to the buckets of ice cream in front of her. “What would you like?”
“Double-scoop waffle cone. One scoop cookies ’n’ cream, one scoop double-chocolate brownie blast. Trina?” He looks at me.
I step up and hesitate, even though I know exactly what I want. I grin at Mac, feeling like a little girl again. “Butter pecan, please.”
“One scoop or two?” The girl is already putting Mac’s cone together with a few expert movements, dunking her scoop into a jug of milky-looking water between each new mound of ice cream.
“Oh, what the hell. Two. In a waffle cone as well, please.”
