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?”