Page 23 of Catching the Mistletoe

Dinner was way more relaxed than I expected after the night before. The conversation flowed easily, like we’d finally figured out how to be around each other without any weird tension. It was nice, and not gonna lie, I kinda loved it.

We hit a pretty good routine with the washing up, then Mack set up my bed while I brushed my teeth. It was all very cozy. And I wasn’t having any impure thoughts about him as he bent over, tucking the sheet around the plastic covered mattress. I swear I wasn’t.Liar.

After that, we said our goodnights, and I headed to my little corner of the RV. Slipping under the covers, I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to take me. And it did, for a while.

But then, I found myself awake. Like, eyes-wide-open-in-the-darkness awake. I glanced at the oven clock; it was some ungodly hour. I felt restless, on edge, and for the life of me, couldn’t figure out why. There was this inexplicable tension, a weird buzzing in my veins, like electricity without an outlet, making me feel uncomfortable.

I tossed and turned, flipped my pillow, even counted freaking sheep. But nothing worked. Sleep was like that one puzzle piece you swear was in the box but can’t seem to find.

Finally, I gave up, throwing the covers off and padding softly over to the small kitchen. Maybe some tea or something would help. Anything to shake this restless energy.

I filled the kettle with water, the liquid sound echoing louder than I would’ve liked. Setting it on the stove, I switched on the burner and waited. Geez, why did kettles have to sound like mini freight trains when you’re trying to be stealthy? My eyes darted to the bedroom door and then quickly away. Nope, not gonna think about Mack right now. That was a Pandora’s box I didn’t want to open, especially not in the middle of the night.

I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the assortment of tea bags in front of me. Chamomile? Peppermint? Decision, decisions. I finally settled on some sleepy-time blend that promised a “soothing escape.” Yeah, right. As if a tea bag had the magical power to calm whatever weird energy had me up at this hour.

I had barely touched the stove’s dial when the bedroom door slid open, softly breaking the silence. My heart did a little jump in my chest as Mack appeared, all kinds of disheveled—and impossibly sexy. He wore a loose-fitting t-shirt that looked like it had been hastily thrown on, which, of course, made me imagine him getting out of bed without it.

“Hey, everything okay?” His voice was a drowsy rumble, but his eyes were fully awake as they found mine.

“Just couldn’t sleep,” I murmured, my gaze dropping to the floor for a second. I hadn’t meant to wake him up, but now that he was here, the air felt different. “I’m sorry if I woke you.” I glanced back up and he held my gaze for a moment longer, like he was sifting through my words, trying to weigh their truth.

Then, with a nod, he ambled over to the stove. “Sit down, I’ll handle the tea.”

His words, so simple yet direct, disarmed me. “Thank you.” I opted for the couch instead of the fold-out bed. There was something about that bed that just... irked me. Maybe it was too intimate, maybe it was too close to the door, or maybe it was just me overthinking things, but the couch felt like neutral territory. Safe.

As Mack took over making the tea, I watched him. Every move he made seemed calculated to minimize noise — the gentle placement of the kettle on the stove, the soft click of the dial. I watched him, caught in the quiet choreography of it all. It felt domestic, this little late-night rendezvous of ours, and the thought should’ve terrified me. Instead, I found it soothing. Maybe because he didn’t fuss over me, like my mom would have. I winced, because that felt mean.

He didn’t rush the tea, but he didn’t dawdle either. It was like he knew the value of these stolen moments, the weight they carried. As he moved in the soft light filtering from the overhead lamp, his silhouette appeared both familiar and new, like a song I never knew I loved but now couldn’t stop humming. Wow, okay, so I got a bit dramatic in the middle of the night.Calm the fuck down. It’s just tea.

Still, it made me feel better. I found myself pulling in a cleansing breath, letting go of whatever the fuck it was that had dragged at me so much that I couldn’t sleep.

Mack brought the tea, dropping onto the couch next to me. I shot him a quick, sideways look, but he had that closed off, guarded look I was so used to seeing. It made me itch to pull the mask off and see what he was so carefully hiding. As we sat there in the muted night light, with the river outside the only sound, I realized how very little I actually knew about him.

Just that he and Noah were like brothers to each other. That they had met as children in a foster home. Noah had always been more open about his background, so I knew that it had been pretty tough. There was a dark time during their teens that he never talked about. All I knew was that they’d done some shady things, got on the wrong side of the law, and somehow scraped themselves out of it. With the help of an old guy called Uncle Tommy. Genevieve had told me that much.

But sitting here next to Mack now, I really wanted to know more. Not out of some passing curiosity, or for idle gossip. Liam McKinley pulled at me in ways I didn’t fully understand, and it scared the fuck out of me. Maybe if I understood where that pull came from, I wouldn’t be so frightened by it. Maybe I could learn to lean into it, even. Ooookay, that sure was putting the cart before the horse.

Mack had never given me the slightest sign that he saw me as anything more than a colleague, a distant family member, a slight nuisance. I mean, sure, this trip had changed that a bit. Maybe we could even say we were friends now.

It wasn’t like when he…when I thought…Holy fuck, stop it!It was all in your imagination. You woke from a coma, from having a literal organ removed. Of course, you weren’t thinking straight. Forget about what you thought happened. It’s a dumb fantasy.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?”

I jumped, nearly spilling my tea. Mack’s voice, deep and quiet, rolled over me and I felt heat curl in my belly. That slight suggestion of a Tennessee accent he usually tried to hide absolutely did it for me. No doubt about it. Well, shit, there was obviously no way I could tell him what I’d been thinking about. “Oh, just this book I’m reading.”

“Yeah? What’s it about?”

Double shit. Jesus. How was I supposed to answer that?It’s about this really hot cowboy, who rails his girl all night long. Tells her what a good girl she is. Lets her know he’s so proud at how good she takes it…

Yeah. No. Let’s not do that. Now I was blushing. Clearing my throat, I replied, “It’s about optimum land management techniques in the rural south.”

“Sounds interesting. Maybe you could lend it to me when you’re done.”

There was no blood left in the rest of my body. It was all in my face. “Um, sure,” I squeaked. My only hope was that he would forget about it by the time I finished the book.

Then he chuckled. That deep, rumbling sound that oozed over me like warm treacle, settling deep in the pit of my stomach. “I’ve seen the cover, Little Dove. I don’t think it’s my kinda book.”

Little Dove.“Asshole.”

---