He shook his wet hands out over the sink. “Orgasms are supposed to help a headache.” He grinned at her stupefied expression and yanked the towel out of her hands to dry his own.
With a mockingly baleful glare as her cheeks reddened, she turned away from the sink. He enjoyed blindsiding her. “Cute,” she said, attempting to sound blasé.
“You blush at the drop of a hat.”
“I don’t, really,” she mumbled, hands going to her heated cheeks. It was true; she’d never been one to flush at the slightest thing. He was the only person who managed to get her to turn into a glow-worm.
Her answer appeared to please him, but she couldn’t figure out why.
“Okay, let’s go.”
Chapter thirty-six
Mac
NO REGRETS
Lonniewasbehindtheregister, but Marge was standing near the stock room entrance; waiting. Mac smiled absently at the young man as he passed, his eyes locked with the old woman’s as he made his way to the back of the store. He didn’t need to be told that she’d spotted Cassidy and Fred climbing into the boat on a security camera. Her accusing glare, the fact she held Cassidy’s things, told the story.
He approached, catching sight of the monitor in the room behind her, Cassidy in plain view. His attention shifted back to Marge. There was a brief, silent standoff. Finally, she let out a disapproving sigh. Remaining tight-lipped, she handed over the purse. Mac gave a short nod of acknowledgment; he knew what it cost her. At least, he could guess. He could at least be civil about it.
Pushing through the back door, his gaze pinpointed Cassidy as she leaned back against the center bench. Strolling toward her, his eyes narrowed when he saw her expression. Her look was faraway, her chin trembling. She was beginning to feel guilty; guilty for feeling good for five fucking seconds. Well, longer than that. He’d give anything to keep her mind from going there, to relieve her of her doubts.
His walk along the jetty was unhurried. He wasn’t in a hurry. He wasn’t hiding or ashamed, nor should she be.
Because the platform was higher, he squatted down when he got to her boat, holding her purse out. Blinking, she dashed away unshed tears before she moved from the bench and crossed over to him. She took her bag, but he didn’t let go. “Are you good?”
She lifted her eyes to him, appearing surprised to be called out, but moisture clung to her lashes. She didn’t think he’d notice?
He reached out and grasped her chin before she could pull away. “No regrets.”
“That’s not… No.” Her eyes shifted over his shoulder. Her sheepish smile told him it was Silas walking up behind him. If it had been Marge, her expression would have been different; chastised.
Mac pivoted enough to glance behind himself at the older man. He returned his attention to her. “Be careful getting back.”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
He released her, and sat back on his heels, watching her. She smiled again at Silas as she stepped back toward the helm. Rooting through her purse, head down, she found her key.
Both men remained as they were until she was clear of the slip, the dock, and easing her way down the inlet. She cast one last look over her shoulder, at him; her smile becoming more strained when she looked at Silas, and then she returned her attention to her task.
Mac stood, sliding his hands into his pockets as he watched her go, waiting for the older man to speak first.
Silas didn’t disappoint. “I like you, Mac.”
Mac almost laughed, glancing back at him. “Why does it sound like you’re about to Dear John me, Silas?”
Silas chuckled, coming forward, waving off someone farther down the marina. “I like you, but I love that girl.”
Mac gave him a side-eye but returned his attention to the departing boat.
“And keep in mind, she’s still a girl,” Silas pointed out. He leaned against a wooden post.
“She’s nowhere near a child.”
“She’s years younger than you are, despite what all she’s been through.”
Mac turned fully, meeting his gaze, curious.