Mac was always grumpy, but rarely angry. The few times she’d seen his temper, he had never directed it at her. But now, the clench of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils, the ridged grooves between his eyebrows, and the way his stare chilled Maggie like a polar plunge all pointed to the same thing.
“No,” he said, but he dropped her gaze and stood from his chair, putting more space between them.
Maggie pushed herself off the desk. She needed to go back downstairs and join the movie. She’d deal with Mac’s attitude later. Maggie turned towards the door, and her eye caught on the corner of the desk. She wasn’t sure how she’d missed it before, but sitting next to his mouse pad was the tiny Lego set she’d found and given to him that night in his forge.
Mac had put all the pieces together so the tiny blacksmith stood in front of the little plastic anvil, protective hood covering his yellow head. Mac had placed one of the silver swords in his hands, the hammer in the other. The armor sat displayed on the tiny brick table. Her silly little gift. Set in a spot where he would see it every day. Butterflies started the rumba in her stomach.
“Come watch with us.” Maggie said. With me.
Even when Mac was grumpy, she wanted to spend time with him. Even when he was snarling, she wanted to see him. Even when he was glowering, she wanted to go to him.
Mac shook his head. “You have three guys down there dying to get to know you. Dying to see what kind of chemistry you share.” He let out a small, humorless chuckle. “I won’t mess that up for you.”
Why not? She wanted to ask.
Maggie liked the idea of him messing it all up. Especially if it involved more of his hands on her body or his eyes eating her up. He was looking at her now, his eyes devouring her like whipped cream, and she wanted to hand him a spoon.
“I want—” She let her words die because Mac was shaking his head again.
“I don’t.” He moved until he was standing beside his open door. “Go, Maggie.”
Maggie shivered as Mac’s words crested over her. He didn’t want what? Had he known what she was going to say? He had his arms crossed across his chest and his eyes trained on a spot on the floor. From the open door, Maggie could hear the murmur of Audrey and Cal and their friends. She had to go downstairs. Mac didn’t want to join them, and that was okay. It was unfortunate that she’d burned with heat for him, and now he was willing to send her off to meet someone else.
Maggie had been sure that Mac was drowning in the same attraction that had her, but she might have misread the whole situation. She might have misread him. Maybe heat was all he felt, and he wasn’t interested in anything else. At any rate, it was time to back off, regroup, and then try a full-frontal attack. As if he could hear her thinking about him, Mac looked up and when their eyes met, a shiver ran down her spine. She ached. Well, at least she could tell Audrey that chemistry itself wasn’t the problem.
Cursing, Mac turned and pulled a sweater from the top drawer of his dresser. Before Maggie could blink, he’d dropped it over the top of her head and pulled it down around her neck. She raised her arms and pushed them through the soft gray knit. The quarter zip was open, and the sweater was long enough that it hit her mid-thigh. With trembling fingers, Mac let his hands slide around her waist. He walked her backwards out of his room. As she stood on the landing, wondering what was happening, Mac shut the door in her face.
Audrey, Cal, and the three other men all looked up as Maggie walked back into the living room. Audrey jumped up from her boyfriend’s lap and came towards Maggie, a glass of something pink in her hand. Josh was smiling from his beanbag chair, and Ryan and Ted—was his name Ted?—gave her brief nods from the couch. Cal furrowed his brow as he looked at her, taking in the new addition to her wardrobe, and Maggie’s cheeks heated. She worried Cal had some sort of sixth sense and knew what Maggie had been doing with his brother upstairs.
“Are we waiting on anything else?” Cal asked.
His eyes found Maggie’s, and she knew he meant his brother. She tried to hide her wince. This movie marathon was exactly the kind of activity Mac would join them for. He was more of a Doctor Strange fan than a Captain America fan, but under normal circumstances he’d have sat on the same couch as Maggie, and they’d have debated the merits of each hero while Audrey and Cal played tonsil hockey.
“Nope,” Maggie said.
Cal and Audrey shared a look before Audrey shrugged. “Start her up.”
Cal pressed play on the remote, and the Marvel intro played, bathing the living room in a soft red glow. Maggie took her seat on the beanbag chair next to Josh. When she glanced back at the couch, Cal had his eyes trained on her. Maggie wanted to scream, sure she and Cal both knew she was the reason Mac hadn’t come down the stairs. What he didn’t know was that Maggie was ready to go back upstairs and join him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Maggiescrunchedherbodyfurther into the blue vinyl and wondered how a two-hour movie could last an eternity. She liked the film—who wouldn’t like to watch shirtless and sweet Chris Evans save the world—but she also felt twitchy in her own skin and unable to focus on the screen. Every time she shifted in the seat, Mac’s scent wrapped around her, seeping off his sweater and teasing her nose with hints of pine and steel. She hadn’t been cold when he’d pulled it over her head, but wearing it gave her the same tingles that his littlest finger had against her thigh.
The vodka and lemonade from Audrey had heated her belly nicely, but she’d declined a second glass. She wanted to be sure, when she next experienced tingles, that the heat was from chemistry and not alcohol. Not that she had any right now. Not from Josh sitting next to her, or from Ryan or Ted on the couch. Cal had retreated to the loveseat with Audrey draped over his lap. The only time Maggie’s body flushed and tingled was when she watched Cal’s fingers brush the bare skin of her best friend’s collarbones or the sliver of skin bared at her waist. She wasn’t a voyeur, but the small touches immediately brought forth all the times Mac had pressed against her, and she had to press her thighs together to relieve the ache.
Josh leaned over from his beanbag chair, his smile blinding. “I’m really glad Cal set this up. I’ve wanted to meet you for a while.”
“A while?” Maggie kept her voice low to avoid disrupting the movie. Not that anyone was watching. Ted was playing sudoku on his phone, and Audrey had her tongue down Cal’s throat. Ryan might have been watching, but Maggie would have had to turn around to get a glimpse of him, and she wasn’t about to do that.
“I was here the last time Cal and Audrey threw a party, maybe a month ago.” Maggie had a vague memory of seeing someone who looked a bit like Josh in the press of bodies the night she’d finished her manuscript. “Cal also has a picture of you and Audrey in his cube. It’s super cute, and I thought you looked pretty. Fun.”
That was sweet. Josh was handsome, and his hand was warm as he reached for hers, but Maggie couldn’t muster up any genuine interest.
“Thank you,” Maggie said.
“But you have someone,” Josh said. He squeezed her hand before letting go and pulling back onto his bean bag. “Cal mentioned you had been seeing someone. I suppose you’re still into them.”
Maggie thought of Mac’s dark eyes and clenching jaw. “I am. Sorry.”