by Abby Niles
She slowly turned her head to stare at him. “You got a problem with regular salt?”
Deciding to keep his mouth shut, he just shrugged his shoulders.
“Whatever floats your boat, handsome,” she muttered, lightly shaking her head.
A smile tugged at his lips, taking him aback. That seemed to happen a lot around this woman. Not only did she infuriate him and shock him, she amused the hell out of him. A worrisome combination. If he didn’t watch it, he might actually find himself enjoying her company.
As she instructed Skylar to pour the pre-measured flour, yeast, and salt in the bowl of a stand mixer, he looked around for the missing ingredient.
“You forgot a teaspoon of sugar.”
“The recipe didn’t call for sugar.”
“Well, I’m telling you it needs a teaspoon of sugar.”
One hand popped on her hip. “What are you, some secret Martha Stewart ninja?”
There went that damn tug of the lips again. “No. I’m definitely not Martha Stewart.” He couldn’t decorate to save his life. “I just happen to know a thing or two about making homemade pizza.”
She lifted Skylar to sit on the counter, then waved her hand toward the machine. “By all means, handsome, take the helm and show us ladies how it’s done.”
Just as a few minutes earlier, the challenge rang clear in her voice as she kept eye contact with him. She had no issue throwing out one, did she?
“Be prepared to be amazed.”
He added the needed sugar and turned on the mixer. As the metal hook slowly turned and combined the ingredients, he poured in the water and oil. Keeping tabs on the consistency, he added more flour or water until the dough was a perfect ball. Then he spread flour on a wooden board, put the dough on it, and started kneading.
An appreciative “Mmm,” came from his left.
He glanced over to find Gayle leaning her elbows on the counter with her chin perched on her palm. Their gazes collided, and she mouthed the words, “So hot.”
A rush of heat suffused his entire body. He halted in mid-knead. Fuck. There wasn’t a misinterpretation of her intentions she could play up with outrageous behavior right now. Jerking his gaze away, he refocused on the dough. The memory of those lips mouthing those words seared into his brain. Was this Gayle in full Gayle mode? He didn’t know if he could handle this Gayle.
When he finally had the dough where it needed to be, he placed it in a bowl and put plastic wrap over the top to let it rise. “Done. It should be ready in about an—”
A sharp smack to his ass shocked the words right out of his mouth.
“Great job, handsome. Let’s play a game while we wait.”
He stood ramrod straight as Gayle swept by him, uncertain if he was more stunned by the sudden smack to his butt or the frightening jolt of lust he’d felt from her bold action.
Taking a steadying inhale, he focused on expelling the tension from his body.
Let’s play a game, she’d said.
He didn’t think he wanted to play games with Gayle Matthews. Something told him she was a master gamesman and he was going to end up on the losing side every time.
And he didn’t like to lose.
For a third time, Gayle had to chomp down on her bottom lip to keep a laugh in as Mac’s stunned expression filled her mind again—one of two stunned expressions he’d given her over the course of the last half hour. The one that had twisted his handsome face when she suggested this full-body contact game had almost topped the one when she’d smacked his ass. Almost.
She flicked the spinner. “Left foot on the green circle.”
Mac sent her a furious scowl and she sucked in her cheeks to keep her mirth from spilling out into the open. God, the delicious man was too much fun not to mess with.
She had taken pity on him and let him be the caller the first round. But when she’d fallen on her ass trying to reach a blue circle, he’d had to take her place. Those were the rules—which she’d reminded him of when he’d resisted her attempt to take the spinner from his hand.
Mac somehow maneuvered his left foot around his right hand and got it on a green circle about a mile’s stretch away. Nice. The view was nice, too. In camo shorts and white tank top, he was giving a magnificent muscle flexing show. The man was simply magnificent. Even his curmudgeon attitude couldn’t detract from that.
Besides, he allowed enough amusement to show through his gruff exterior that she wasn’t the least bit daunted by his attempts to push her away. He would have a better chance if those enticing lips would stop twitching at the corners, letting her know he wanted oh-so-badly to smile. The fact that he fought the impulse made him all the more intriguing to her.
“Okay, Skylar, your turn.” Gayle spun the arrow. “Right foot, red.”
The little girl groaned. “Really?”
With her little hands splayed on the red dots on one side of the plastic mat and her feet on the green dots on the opposite side, the move wasn’t going to be easy. Skylar hated to lose.
Gayle grinned. “Sorry.”
She brought her right foot forward, getting it as far as the line of blue before she simply tilted over onto her side. The fall was so fast and so dramatic, Gayle burst into laughter, and Skylar followed with her childish cackle, which made Gayle laugh even harder. She loved the pure, unapologetic joy of a child.
She glanced over at Mac to share the moment, and all her enjoyment faded. What would have brought an immediate grin to anyone else’s face, failed to do so on Mac’s. The stricken expression was filled with such sadness and longing as he stared down at the child, Gayle’s heart clenched tight.
He jerked his gaze away and directed it across the room, shoving his hand through his hair, a swallow working his throat.
This man must have one hell of story.
Time to lighten the mood again. “Okay, Skylar. You know what that means?”
The little girl jumped up. “It’s my turn to call and it’s yours and Uncle Mac’s turn to twist.”
If his head had whipped around any faster it would have flown clean off his shoulders. At least he was distracted from whatever past demon had surfaced.
“That would be correct, Skylar.” She cocked the challenging eyebrow she was quickly learning goaded the hell out of him. “How about it, handsome? A friendly competition between adults. Which one of us has the best balance?”
As expected, the angular jut of his jawline tightened. He really shouldn’t make it so easy for her to read him. The man simply could not back down from a challenge—even from her. Which gave her all the power.
He walked toward her. “I’m the only one in the room who hasn’t fallen yet.”
“Because you’ve only played once.”
“And I stayed on my feet. The one time you played, someone landed flat on her a—” He cleared his throat, his gaze shooting over to Skylar. “Er, backside. Seems to me I’m already the victor between the adults.”
The man was just as bad as Skylar about winning. Gayle would have to change strategy. “It’s pretty sad that a grown man would claim victory over an eight-year-old when the only reason she couldn’t make the move was because she is an eight-year-old. I would’ve been able to make that move.”
He pressed his lips together, but not before she saw the twitch at the corners. To seal the deal, she crossed her arms over her chest, cocked one hip out, and pursed her lips in a what-are-you-going-to-say-to-that? way.
He immediately dropped his head, but she’d seen it. Oh. My. God. She’d seen it. A flash of white teeth. Handsome had smiled. Unfortunately, she hadn’t received the full effect or seen how it transformed his face, but still, he’d failed to keep it buttoned up.
She was getting to him.
It wouldn’t be long and he’d smile just because he wouldn’t remember not to. The thought almost brought a smile to her own lips.
When he looked up, he had control over his mouth muscles again and had them set in a stern line. “You’re o
n.”
“Bring. It.” Waving her fingers in the motion that went with those words, she stepped onto the mat.
Again the stern expression cracked as he squared off with her. He was a good head taller than she was and she tilted her head back to gaze up at him. Narrowed brown eyes glared back down at her. Good gracious almighty, she liked this. A lot. Everything about the man was commanding. Compact. Tight.
A flutter swept low in her belly. Yeah, she wanted this man.
“Gayle, right foot, yellow circle.”
With Skylar here, she would have to keep things G-rated, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a bit of fun. Without breaking eye contract with Mac, she slipped her foot between his spread legs to the lone yellow circle between his feet and brought her breasts closer to his chest. Other than a slight jerk back and some major tensing of his body, he gave no reaction.
“Uncle Mac, right foot, green circle.”
An audible exhale came from him as he shifted backward until the required foot was on the correct color, putting the lines of yellow and red circles between their bodies. Okay, so he responded to verbal challenges, but was still gun-shy about physical ones. She could respect that—for now.
“Gayle, left foot, red.” She moved her foot to the assigned color, inching closer to Mac again.
“Uncle Mac, left foot, green circle.” Noticeable frustration crossed his face at having to remain in the same spot. The thrill of the chase shivered through her. This was a lot more fun than she’d expected.
“Gayle, left hand, red.”
She glanced down at the rows before her, where she had one foot already positioned on yellow and one directly in front of Mac on red, then glanced up at him. Her naughty side roared forward with a vengeance. Hadn’t she just thought she could respect his unspoken cues? She studied the circle again.
Nope. Forget respect. She had to do it. Opportunities like this didn’t arise often enough, and she would not let one pass by. Plus, it was fun watching the yummy fighter who faced big, bad, aped-up gorillas in a cage get all awkward when she did something outrageous.
Thankfully, Skylar was way too young to read into this, but Mac would see the adult intention crystal clear. Keeping her expression innocent, Gayle slowly crouched until she was zipper level with his camo shorts, placed her hand on the circle, and tilted her head back to look up at him. His head tilted up toward the ceiling, and softly mumbled Fucks rolled from his mouth.
Oh, yeah. He was reading into it exactly what she wanted him to.
She heard the spinner turn on the cardboard. “Uncle Mac, right hand, red.”
An audible groan sounded as he bent to place his palm on the circle beside her, bringing his face in close. Tension carved deep grooves around his tightly pressed lips and anger burned as he glared at her. She flashed him a bright smile. His eyes narrowed dangerously. Man, if she could get all that built-in hostility to channel into passion, this man would rock her socks off.
“Gayle, right hand, blue.”
Twisting her body away from Mac, she slapped her palm on the correct color.
“Uncle Mac, right foot, blue.”
Muttering another curse, he stretched his foot from its spot on the green circle to the blue, bringing his torso forward, so they were once again facing each other.
“Hello, handsome. Good to see you again.”
“Can’t say the same.”
She chuckled. “If you can’t handle the heat, you know what to do to end it.”
“No way in hell that is happening.”
“Gayle, right foot, green.”
She peered around the mat. Her right foot was currently on yellow. Left on red. Green was behind Mac. This could prove difficult. She faced forward, and came nose-to-nose with a smirk—a smirk!—twisting Mac’s usually cantankerous lips.
Oh. It was so on.
With some careful maneuvering, she stretched her right leg between Mac’s and barely tiptoed the green. And Mac wasn’t smirking anymore. He was blanching as the outside of her thigh pressed to the inside of his. Yet he didn’t waiver in his determination to win. Stubborn, stubborn man. He had no idea what a weakness that actually was.
And the game continued like that. No matter how provocative Gayle got with her move choice—at one time she straddled him—Mac refused to give in. But with each play, the tension slowly eased out of his muscles, a light air started to replace the dark, stormy aura he always seemed to carry, and before the new mood could be ruined, Gayle gave him what he wanted.
“Gayle, left hand, blue.”
She slid her hand out from under Mac’s back, then reached between her legs for the blue circle. Biting off a curse, she strained for the circle and then collapsed to the mat.
Mac shot to his feet with his arms raised above his head. “Yes!”
The grin that stretched his mouth wide, revealing his straight white teeth, made her breath catch hard in her chest as an excited jolt zapped her low in the belly. The curving of his lips took years off his face and erased the haunted gleam from his eyes. He radiated happiness.
He caught her staring at him and the smile faded. “What?”
“You should really smile more often, handsome. It suits you.”
And she planned to make Mac Hannon smile a whole helluva lot more. Even if it was against his will.
Chapter Three
Mac rolled over in bed and groaned, from both lack of sleep and the constant whirling of his thoughts. That damned woman wouldn’t leave his mind.
Why?
Because after he’d perfected a stone-faced expression and only allowed the occasional small smile to those he called friends, Gayle had wrenched a fucking teeth-baring, shit-eating grin from him—without him being aware of it. He’d been so caught up in the moment, if she hadn’t pointed it out, he might have never realized it. But she had, and he’d immediately wiped his face clean of emotion. She hadn’t missed a beat, though. She just hopped up, clapped her hands, and announced it was time to roll the dough.
During the hour that followed, she’d acted as if nothing had happened, once again making him relax. He’d caught his lips stretching at her clever phrases so often he’d stopped fighting the impulse. By the time they were done with the pizza and Lance had shown up, Mac had grudgingly admitted to himself that Gayle radiated life in a way that drew him—at least, until she threw her sexual innuendo at him. The uncomfortable moments where he’d felt more like an amateur fighter facing his first big fight instead of a pro who’d won against countless opponents were usually few and far between. Not with her. And he hated how green she made him feel.
Not that he had any plans to act on a single one of her suggestions. The weird attraction troubled him, though. Right now it was easy to keep things under control because she was so outrageous, but if she changed tactics…
He shook his head. He couldn’t think about Gayle anymore. She’d already stolen too much of his damn sleep. She wasn’t going to steal his day, too.
Tossing back the covers, he jumped out of bed, pushing thoughts of the infuriatingly irresistible woman out of his head. What he needed to do was fix shit with Lance. After his buddy had returned home, he’d taken Skylar out on a daddy-daughter date. Gayle had gone home, and Mac was left at the house alone. Lance and his daughter hadn’t returned until well after ten. He’d taken his sleeping child upstairs, tucked her in, and gone straight to his room. The message had been clear. Lance wasn’t ready to talk.
Today, though, they needed to clear the air.
Mac threw on a pair a of black training shorts and red cotton tank, then hurried downstairs to the smell of frying bacon. As he stepped into the kitchen, he found Lance manning one pan with sizzling strips and another with scrambled eggs.
“Smells good,” Mac said.
Lance glanced over his shoulder. “I always make Skylar breakfast before she goes back to her mom. She’s getting dressed. Piper should be here in about twenty minutes.” A click sounded as four pieces of toast
popped up from the toaster. Lance motioned to it with the spatula. “You want any of this?”
“Nah. I’m good. Going to make a protein shake in a bit.” Mac perched on one of the stools around the island, studying his friend’s back as he grabbed two plates from the cabinet and loaded each with food. It seemed like Skylar did a lot of back-and-forth between her parents, which was an odd arrangement. “What kind of schedule do you and Piper have worked out for Skylar?”
A slight shrug moved Lance’s shoulders. “What we can fit in. I wasn’t supposed to have Skylar yesterday, but I had the afternoon off. Since those are so rare, I had Piper drop her off with Gayle before she went to work, so I could spend the rest of the day with her when I got home. Thankfully, I have an ex-wife who makes sure I get to spend more than a few minutes with my daughter.”
“Why don’t you cut back on a few of the jobs you take?”
The muscles in Lance’s shoulder bunched. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of being choosy, you know?”
This wasn’t the conversation Mac wanted to have this morning. Seemed he was making things worse, not better. He just needed to get to the heart of things. “I’m sorry about the other day. No matter what you think, that wasn’t me.”
“I pushed your buttons.” Lance faced him, leaning back against the counter. “I’ve had time to think on it, too. I shouldn’t have come at you the way I did. You’ve spent the last four years dealing with your grief in your own way, and you’re not with me for an hour and I’m all in your face about it. So, yeah, you exploded. I probably would’ve done the same in your shoes. In fact, I’m pretty certain. I felt anger rising just now at you asking why I didn’t cut back my hours.”
“Hey, man, I didn’t mean to upset you with that.”
“I know, but it did. The same way you got upset with my remarks.” Lance remained silent for a moment, then said, “About a year after you left Kansas, Skylar was diagnosed with leukemia.” Mac shot to his feet in shock. Lance held up his hand, shaking his head. “You were going through your own shit. She’s in remission now, but Piper’s insurance sucked, and so did mine. The approved treatments weren’t working, and the hematologist recommended something different. Of course, insurance denied coverage. But I wasn’t going to let anything happen to my little girl, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to happen because some suit in an office was denying her healthcare. So I found the money.”
