Page 59 of Marc

I follow after her, like a puppy wanting attention. “Oh, come on. I need to see the smaller bag. Please?”

She suddenly stops and spins around, colliding with my chest. Her tiny hand wraps around my arm to regain her balance.

My heart pounds in my chest as she looks up at me. I want to tell her how gorgeous she looks, but I don’t.

I have to force myself to hold back.

Luckily, she speaks before I can confess my growing feelings for her.

“I’m not saying there is a smaller bag inside this one, but if there was, it would just be a tiny travel makeup bag.”

Her touch distracts me. It sends my blood flowing straight to my nether region, forgetting all about the importance of my brain.

I try to calm my racing heart by speaking slowly. “A makeup bag still counts.”

Staci squints her eyes and thinks for a moment before grinning.

“Well, lucky for me, there isn’t another bag in this one because my travel makeup bag is currently in my weekend bag that is still in your car.”

“But it usually is in that bag, so that means they are just like the nesting dolls.”

She rolls her eyes and smirks. “I guess you are right, Marc.”

I love the way my name rolls off her tongue. Groaning, I push away before I kiss her and carry her back to my house with no clothes.

“I’ll get started in your closet.”

I turn away from her disappointed look and head back to her closet. My body instantly misses her touch.

Did she want me to kiss her?

Does she feel the chemistry between us, or am I imagining all of it?

Before I can get too caught up with my thoughts, I grab the bigger suitcase and pack whatever I can find that’s not ripped or full of glass.

I pack several weeks' worth of shirts, shorts, skirts, and dresses before grabbing a couple pairs of sandals.

Carrying the suitcase and bathroom bag to my car, I leave Staci alone to pack her own bras and panties.

My heart and body can’t deal with knowing how little she is wearing under her clothes and I don’t want to feel perverted while going through her underwear drawer.

The thoughts have already been running through my mind, but seeing those tiny scraps of lace will be my doom.

She is standing on the front porch with the smaller suitcase when I finish loading the other bags.

Grabbing the suitcase, I throw it in with the others before closing the trunk lid. I jog back to her as she gives her house one last look.

Her voice sounds hopeful for the first time in hours. “Ready?”

“There’s only one more thing for me to do. You can get settled in the car and I’ll be right there.”

Her front door is broken, so there’s no quick fix for it, but I manage to close it the best I can.

Some privacy is better than none.

Before heading back to the car, I scoot a rocking chair over until it is blocking the front door and move her welcome sign so it is right next to the rocking chair.

She is quiet the entire ride to my house, despite me trying to make small talk.

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