Protecting What's Mine(43)

She pushed out of the chair to limp and pace in the confined space.

“And it’s all because some stupid son of a bitch made some really bad fucking choices,” she said.

Because he got it, because he knew, Linc hooked his fingers in the neck of her hoodie and reeled her in. She remained rigid until his arms wrapped around her. It was like she’d given herself permission to melt for just a moment.

“I’m sorry the price of his dumbass decisions were hers and yours to pay,” he said. “And I’m really fucking pissed that I didn’t do more.”

“You knocked a tooth out of his mouth,” she reminded him.

“Not enough for putting hands on my favorite trauma doc.”

She sighed against him. Her face fitting just right between his neck and chest. “You’re a really good hugger.”

“One of my many skills. You should see me—”

“If you say anything about that very impressive cock and ruin this moment, I’ll add you to my pissed-off-at list.”

The kettle beeped an alert.

“I was going to say, you should see me make a cup of tea.” He gave her another squeeze and indulged himself by dropping a kiss on top of her dark hair.

“This doesn’t mean we’re going to have sex.”

He guided her back to her chair. “Let’s take a wait-and-see attitude on that particular point for now.”

Mack’s green eyes twinkled. “You don’t find my podiatric apparatus an incredible turn-on?”

“Dreamy, everything about you is an incredible turn-on. Even your misplaced willpower.” He turned back to the counter. Mostly to focus on making her tea. But partly because seeing her like this, vulnerable, sad, made him want to swoop in superhero-style and fix every damn thing for her.

He was already overstepping.

“One last item on the pity party agenda,” she said. “I hate that I’m feeling sorry for myself when I know I’ll be back to normal in no time. That girl won’t, and I should be grateful.”

Hell. Was there nothing about this woman he didn’t like?

“Acknowledge,” he said, setting the mug in front of her.

She snorted. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I’ve got nothing to add, but I hear you.”

She swirled the tea bag around and studied him in silence.

Sunshine, sensing the potential for human attention, trotted into the room.

She stopped, then sat expectantly in front of Mack.

“Hi,” Mack said to the dog.

Sunshine took it as an invitation and put her front paws on Mack’s knees.

“Here,” he said, producing a baggie of doggie treats.

“What are those?” she asked.

“They’re t-r-e-a-t-s.”

Sunshine trembled in delirium.

“Can she spell?”

“Apparently,” he assessed.

“Is she having a seizure?”

“No. She just really likes t-r-e-a-t-s. You might as well give her one and earn her undying love and affection. One now. You can save the rest for later.”

“Why do I need treats for your dog later?” she asked in suspicion.

She was getting her feet back under her, latching on to the distraction and setting the self-pity aside. Just as he’d diabolically planned.

“Because I’m leaving her to babysit you,” he informed her cheerfully. To add her two cents, Sunshine gave an excited yip.

“This is payback for your nieces and nephews, isn’t it?”

He held up his palms, the picture of innocence. “You’re actually doing me a huge favor. It’s wax-the-apparatus day, and she gets in the way trying to bite all the rags.”

“You’re making that up.”

He was indeed.

“I’m truly heartbroken that you would think that. Devastated, Dreamy.”

Her lips quirked, then flattened again. “Linc. I can’t watch your dog. I don’t know how to watch a dog.” As she said it, she stroked gentle hands over Sunshine’s ears.

“It’s easy,” he promised, slipping the salad mix and chicken breasts into the fridge. “She’ll tell you what she wants, when she wants it.”

“I don’t speak dog.”

Sunshine nosed the bag of treats, reminding Mackenzie they were there. Dutifully, she took a treat from the bag and gingerly held it out to the dog. Quivering, Sunshine deftly took the treat. With her treasure secure, she ran into the living room, hurled herself onto the couch, circled three times, and flopped down with a happy sigh.

Mack laughed despite herself.

“You’ll learn,” he said.

“Is that cookie dough?” she asked, watching him stash a package in the fridge.

“Oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip. I wasn’t sure what kind of a cookie girl you are, and I’m partial to oatmeal raisin. Figured you could make us dessert since I’m making dinner tonight.”

“That’s awfully presumptuous,” she observed.

“It’s the least I can do since you’re watching my girl today.”

Groceries stashed, he pulled out the other chair at her doll-sized table and sat.

He reached a hand out to cup her chin, angling her face to see the bruising better.