Page 50 of Here & There

“I’d rather keep my teeth. Women find them sexy.”

I grumble and hang up. But at least I feel good enough to sleep.

Chapter 13

Shelby

The next morning, I very strongly consider moving out before anyone wakes up, but, of course, when I push open my door a crack, Mac’s in the kitchen doing something fancy with a coffee filter and beaker-looking thing. I want coffee so badly—and yes, I need to own up to my mistakes—that I slip out the door and walk, head held high, across the still-slippery deck to the patio door.

I nearly lose my life as I do it, though, my heel slipping on the slick wood. Luckily, I regain my footing. I straighten my hair in the glass and wait for my pulse to calm down before pulling open the door.

“Good morning,” I say brightly as I stride into the kitchen.

Mac grunts, pouring coffee into a stoneware mug, his back to me. “I’m laying down some grating today.”

My shoulders drop. “I’m sorry, what?”

He turns around, coffee in hand.

My stomach does a complete double barrel roll, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so absolutely beautiful as this man holding out coffee for me. He’s wearing black sweatpants and a clean white T-shirt, and his hair curls down around his face, soft against his rough-hewn jaw. He points hischin at a carton of cream and the sugar dish already set out on the big plank table next to where I stand.

“Grating,” he says.

I take the coffee and slide into a chair at the table.

“To make the deck safer. I saw your silly walking out there just now. Thought I’d let you know.”

“Silly walking?”

“That’s what we call it when someone trips on a hiking trail. Makes it less embarrassing.”

“Oh does it?” My flaming cheeks have to disagree.

“Actually I have no idea,” Mac says, turning back around.

The soft rush of water sounds as he turns on the tap.

“Let me guess, you don’t trip on trails,” I say, loud enough to be heard over the water.

“Not generally, no.”

“Only when strange women knock you out in the dark?”

Mac’s back goes stiff. The water abruptly shuts off.

Oh my God, why did I do that? Bring attention to the ridiculous thing I made happen last night?

“I’m not concussed,” he says. “In case you’re wondering.”

I let out a breath. “I’m…really sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m…sorry you saw the full monty.”

That’s not what I’m sorry about, but I hold my tongue, because Nate comes down the stairs then, grimacing when he sees the two of us talking. His cheeks are pink.

“Morning!” I say cheerily.

He flames even more red as he reaches for the cupboard to pull out a box of cereal.

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