Mack Daddy(46)

Her words were hitting me hard.

“Okay, Mrs. M. I hear you.”

“Have a good night, Frankie Jane. I can see why he thinks you’re so adorable.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I walked back to Mack’s house.

He was waiting at the door for me and must have noticed the look on my face. “Fuck. What did she say to you?”

“Nothing. We had a nice little conversation.”

“Sure. Knowing her, that means she gave you the third degree.”

Waving the head of garlic, I said, “I’ve got the magic ingredient.”

“Nice change of subject. Seriously, did she say something to freak you out?”

Deciding to keep her advice private, I shook my head. “No, not at all. Come on, we have spaghetti to make.”

Mack already had the water boiling as I began to chop the fresh basil.

The sound of a cork popping prompted me to look over at him. He’d taken two glasses out and was pouring red wine into each. There was something so sexy about watching him do it. Well, maybe it was just him that was sexy rather than the process of pouring the wine. It was then that I noticed that he’d taken off his shoes and made himself more comfortable. He’d also removed his sweater, and now I could see the outline of his sculpted chest through his T-shirt.

Handing me one of the goblets, he said, “Don’t worry. I won’t open more than one bottle. There’s no f*cking way I’m gonna spend any of this precious time too drunk to remember any of it.”

“Given our track record, I think that’s wise.”

“Anyway, I don’t need alcohol anymore to tell you how I really feel. I hope you don’t mind if I’m direct from time to time. You don’t have to say anything back, but I’m gonna tell you what’s on my mind if the moment beckons. I don’t really feel like I have anything to lose at this point.”

“Thank you for the fair warning.” Taking a sip, I said, “I didn’t think you were a wine drinker.”

“It’s sort of a recent thing, maybe it’s an acquired taste that comes with age. I’ve been pouring a glass or two every night to relax lately after a long day.”

“It’s hard to picture you all alone in this house during the week.”

“You’re telling me. I don’t like it very much, but being alone is better than living with someone who makes you unhappy. I’ve learned that the hard way. I’m very much at peace here aside from the downside of having to live apart from Jonah.”

Mack stood there swirling his drink around as he watched me prepare the sauce. My body was tingling, not from the wine, but from an awareness that his eyes were on me.

“Are you watching the pasta or me, Morrison?”

“Shit,” he said as he realized he was about to overcook the spaghetti.

“You had one task,” I joked. “One task…”

“Sorry, I was distracted. I love the sight of you in my kitchen too damn much.”

We ended up having a really nice dinner. I was relieved that we’d gotten the tough conversation from earlier out of the way. I felt very comfortable in his house, and that was a little unnerving. It was very easy to get lost in Mack’s magnetism. Guilt overtook me as Victor’s face flashed through my mind, but it wasn’t enough to keep me from enjoying being here.

“We got so caught up in talking, I didn’t even show you the rest of the house. I’ll have to give you the tour after dinner,” he said.

“I’d like that.”

“Then, I promise to get you home at a decent hour. I know you have to be up early—as do I—to get Jonah to school. You weren’t exactly expecting me to kidnap you.”

“I’m glad you did. We really needed that talk, and honestly, I love this house. Being here right now…sharing this meal…it’s really nice.”

“I love having you here.”

During the second half of dinner, the conversation moved to even lighter topics, like Mack’s volunteering at the school’s winter carnival this coming weekend. It was an indoor festival, and the theme was summertime in the winter. Mack had volunteered to get dunked in the dunking booth to help the school raise money. I couldn’t wait to try my hand at that game.

After we finished our pasta, Mack insisted on cleaning up while I polished off my glass of wine. It reminded me of the old days when I would cook, and he would do the dishes while we talked. A lot about the latter half of my time at his house tonight reminded me of old times. That feeling got even stronger as we made our way down to his basement.

“Holy man cave,” I said as we stepped into the space.

A large, black leather sectional took up most of the room. There was a massive TV and really cool recessed lighting. Some abstract art hung on the wall. The décor was modern yet cozy.

“You like it?”

“We would’ve enjoyed this room back in the day.”

“This is where Jonah and I watch movies when I can pull him away from his video games. And it’s where I spend most of my time when I’m alone.”

I wandered over to a bookshelf in the corner of the room. A few of the books were ones I recognized. One in particular shocked me.

“The Man Who Folded Himself? Didn’t you make fun of me for reading this very book?”