Cassidy finished off her beer and pulled away from his embrace to set the empty bottle in a cup holder. She’d wanted to have a real conversation with Mac for weeks, and now that she had, she found it one of the easiest and most challenging things she’d ever done. For once, his guard wasn’t entirely up; but she found that hers was. Maybe he was right, and they weren’t meant for anything more than neighbors who had occasional sex.
Well, she’d tipped her hand, hadn’t she? Confirmed his hypothesis about her feelings. He didn’t seem upset by it, but now seemed the best time to lighten things up.
Turning toward him, she asked, “Are you ready to learn how to drive this thing?”
“Drinking and driving?” He jerked his chin toward the plate. “Eat something.”
“One beer,” she pointed out.
He held his bottle up. “Still working on mine.Mange.”
Cassidy grabbed up a couple of crackers and slices of cheese, sitting back in a huff.
Mac chuckled. “You have a pouty side.”
Pushing her sunglasses up onto the wide, white band decorating her head, she pointed out, “I’m trapped on a boat with a man who can’t decide if he wants to fuck me or feed me, but whichever he decides, I’m not supposed to have an opinion about it.”
“I want to both fuck youandfeed you; they’re basic life necessities. You can have whatever opinion you want about it, just don’t expect me to agree.” He lifted his sunglasses to look directly at her. “I’m assuming ‘opinion’ here means feelings.”
Cassidy looked away to concentrate on stacking her cheese onto her cracker. So much for lightening the mood.
“I have a favor to ask, though,” he said, dropping his glasses back into place.
She snorted, earning her a smile.
He waited until she lifted her cracker sandwich to her lips and her wary gaze to his mirrored glasses. “Don’t call me ‘baby’ again.”
Cassidy made a face. “That was for Devin’s benefit.”
“Don’t care. Don’t do it.” He put his head back, squinting at the sun.
Cassidy shrugged. “Fine. Whatever.” They weren’t a couple anyway. But, okay, ouch. He didn’t want monikers from her. Too intimate? Familiar? Comfortable? Hypocrite much?
“Another thing,” he said.
“Jesus, what?”
“Tell Roman to fuck off.”
Chapter forty-six
Mac
TELL ME YOU DON'T WANT ME
Heknewhefuckedup the moment the words left his mouth. She froze, the cheese and cracker paused at her mouth, lips parted to receive it, her eyes wide. He let himself be distracted by her lips, recalling how they’d wrapped around his cock days ago. Had hoped for a repeat disappearing act on the boat.
From the look on her face right now, he wasn’t endearing himself to her.
She tried to form words; he could see the questions running through her head, trying to place the motivation behind his seemingly random demand. He waited her out as the cracker and cheese fell back to the plate. She was staring like he was an alien plopped on the seat in front of her.
Finally, she found her voice. “Why would you…? No.”
“Day.” Sometimes that’s all it took to get her on track; let her hear the sound of his voice in a particular octave. Conceited of him, but he knew how he could affect her. He’d use it.
Honestly, he was shocked himself that he’d let it slip out the way it had when it had. She relaxed him; made him comfortable. And on the heels of her annoyed agreement to never call him ‘baby’ again—something she’d called her husband so he would not allow the endearment to be transferred to him—then it just seemed like a good idea to keep up the requests.
Well, the specific request.