I set about making us both a cup of decaf, but I could sense his attention. Glancing over my shoulder as I filled the machine with water, I caught Mac looking at my arse.
Once upon a time, he would have looked away, irritated to have been caught checking me out, but now he raised his eyes to mine and asked gruffly, “What the hell are you wearing?”
Earlier that night, when I’d appeared from my bedroom dressed in a Christmas onesie, I’d delighted at the thorough once-over Mac had given me. I hadn’t bought the onesie with anything but my Christmas weekend with the kids in mind, but feeling his eyes on me, I felt rather smug about the purchase. It was red and white with reindeer printed on it, and it clung to every inch of my body.
“It’s a onesie.” I bit back a smile as I put the machine on its base and settled the decaf pod within.
“I thought a onesie was supposed to be oversized. This one doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”
It was rather a sexy onesie, though that hadn’t been my intent. I looked over my shoulder again. His dark eyes glinted with more than a hint of desire. My skin tingled and my stomach flipped, low, deep. “Then you must have a dirty imagination because I’m barely showing any skin.”
Mac swallowed hard, and to my frustration, looked away. “I meant the style of it.”
Staring back at the coffee machine, I reined in my impatience. “I know what you meant.”
Hearing movement, I turned to watch him walk into the living room and sighed heavily.
A few minutes later, I followed with mugs in hand, enjoying the glow of the Christmas tree lights. We’d switched off all other lamps in the living room and put on the fire, and what had been cozy for the kids was now something a wee bit more intimate for me and Mac.
I piled blankets and pillows on the armchair for him to use for sleeping. He was on the sofa, staring broodingly into the fire.
“Thanks again,” I said, handing him a mug as I snuggled into his side.
He raised an eyebrow at my proximity but merely asked, “For what?”
“For sleeping on my bloody uncomfortable couch just so I could have my weekend with the kids.”
“You know I don’t mind.”
Our gazes held for a second, and then we both took a sip of coffee.
“Even after watching Frozen and Frozen II?” I teased.
Mac chuckled softly. “Ach, it reminds me of when Robyn was wee. I was the one who took her to see all the latest Disney films because Stacey hated going to the movies.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Who hates going to the cinema?”
“She did. Claustrophobic.”
“Ah. That’s a bit shit for her,” I said reluctantly. Even though I’d never met the woman, I wasn’t a fan. I now knew that Mac had tried for years to contact Robyn, had sent letters and gifts. He’d even sent gifts to Regan. Stacey had returned all of them and hadn’t told Robyn. When Mac showed Robyn all the returned letters, it went a long way toward helping mend their relationship. I think that’s all she’d really wanted—to know he loved her.
Funny how we had that in common.
“Finished?” I asked after a while, nodding to his mug.
He handed it to me, and I got up to dump the mugs in the sink. When I came back, Mac still stared into the fire, but he looked a little more relaxed than before.
When I sat back down, I made sure our bodies touched.
He flicked me a dark look. “There’s a whole lot of couch here, you know.”
My lips twitched with amusement. Sometimes with Mac, I felt like a naughty rogue trying to seduce an innocent maiden. “I enjoy being near you. How are your wounds?”
He raised an eyebrow at the subject change, but shrugged. “It’s been months. They’re all healed up.”
“Let me see.” I reached for the hem of his shirt before he could protest and slid it up his torso. Mac sucked in a breath. For once, I wasn’t distracted by his well-formed abs.
All I could see were the white scars. Three of them, clustered together.