“How were they?” she whispered.

“Total devils.” He smiled when he said it, so she knew he was lying. “They were great. They ran around, got dirty, all the good stuff.”

“Thank you so much for doing this.”

“Stop thanking me.” He stood and stretched again, and this time his T-shirt lifted just enough to give her a glimpse of taut skin beneath a dusting of dark hair. “You hungry?”

“What?” She tore her eyes from his abs.

“Rosie brought food over. Want me to heat it up for you?”

“I can do it.”

“I got it. Let’s carry the girls in, and then I’ll feed you.”

They each picked up a sleeping twin, and Mack followed her down the short hallway to her bedroom. Liv avoided making eye contact with him as they laid the girls down and pulled the comforter over them. It was way too easy to imagine the two of them in there instead, and for all her sexed-up emotions right now, she wasn’t ready for that yet.

“I’m, um, I’m going to change my clothes.”

He nodded. “Food will be waiting.”

He shut the door partway when he left, and Liv fanned herself. Mack in her bedroom was not something her senses were prepared for yet. She changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a T-shirt.

“Wow, I could get used to this,” she said when she went back out.

He looked up from the kitchen counter. “What? Coming home to a warm meal or to an exquisite male specimen like this?”

“You had to make it weird, didn’t you?” Her annoyance was fake, though. She was grateful for the teasing and the sarcasm. It was as if he’d known she needed some lightness to rise above the heavy sexual tension blanketing the room.

Mack set a plate of tuna-noodle casserole—Liv’s favorite—and a glass of water in front of her. Then he claimed the chair next to her.

“So,” he said, way too casually, “since you’re obviously too much of a coward to talk about that kiss—”

“Um, excuse me?”

He leaned forward. “Maybe we should just talk about how you almost kissed me when I got here.”

Heat raced up her neck. Busted. “Um, you mean when you almost kissed me.”

“Darlin’, I know when I’m about to be kissed, and that was some serious kiss foreplay.”

“That’s not even a thing.”

He licked his bottom lip. “Oh, it’s a thing. And you were doing it.”

Liv crossed her arms, but her breasts were suddenly super tingly, so she tried to set her hands on her hips, but that was awkward because she was sitting down.

“You comfortable yet?” Mack teased.

She plunked her elbows on the table.

He nodded. “I happen to be an expert on these things.”

Liv snorted. “I’m sure you think so.”

“Aren’t you even the least bit curious how I knew what you were thinking?”

“No.” Yes.

“You probably think it’s because you looked at my mouth like you wanted to drink from it.”

“Wow, you really have read too many romance novels.”

“It wasn’t even the fact that your tongue darted out and licked the corner of your mouth.”

Liv rolled her eyes and took a bite.

“Nope. You looked at my pulse.”

Liv cocked an eyebrow.

“You stared right . . . here.” Mack reached across the short space between them and pressed the pad of his thumb to the hot pulse point in her throat. “It was your biggest tell.”

His thumb caressed her skin.

Her breath got stuck.

Then her food got stuck.

She started to cough. Liv glared and took a drink of her water. “I did not look there,” she choked.

He leaned back, all smug and satisfied. “You’re going to argue with the master?”

“Yes, because you’re forgetting one very important detail.” Liv inched forward until their noses nearly touched. “I don’t even like you.”

“I think we’re beyond that, don’t you?” His voice was a caress on her skin.

Liv ate several more bites before giving up. Her body was hungry for one thing only, and it had nothing to do with Rosie’s casserole.

“All done?” He reached for her plate.

“You don’t have to wait on me.”

“I know, but I want you to see me washing a dish.”

She snorted out a laugh despite her best efforts to hold it in. “Why?”

“So you can see how sexy I am.”

She tilted her head. “I admit, a man washing dishes is definitely one of my fantasies.”

“Fantasies? As in plural?”

“I’m a normal woman. Of course it’s plural.”

“I wouldn’t mind hearing about some of those.”

“I don’t want to scandalize you.”

He turned around and dried his hands. The lazy gesture conjured dirty thoughts. “Please, by all means, scandalize me,” he drawled.

Liv stood and took his hand. “You’d better come with me.” She tugged him to the couch and gently pressed her palm to his chest. She gave him a soft push. “Sit.”

Mack’s eyebrows shot high on his forehead, but he obeyed.

“Scoot all the way back,” she commanded.

“So far, I’m in total agreement with whatever you’re doing.”

Liv crawled onto the cushion next to him, tucked her feet up, and then lifted his left arm and ducked under it. It fell heavy across her shoulders as she snuggled into the crook of his shoulder and pressed her cheek to the spot just above his heart. She couldn’t hold back the mmmmm that emerged from her throat.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice husky.

“Snuggling.”

“Snuggling?” He chuckled as his hand slid down her back. He stopped just above the waistband of her sleep shorts.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Snuggling is your fantasy.”

“Yep.”

His fingers shifted to find the bare patch of skin between her shirt and her shorts. Liv held her breath at the contact of skin on skin. Beneath her ear, his heart beat faster.

“Are you scandalized yet?” Her voice sounded like she’d just tried to gargle with straight cocoa powder.

“Completely.” So did his. “Maybe you should tell me what else happens in this fantasy of yours.”

“We talk.”

“Dirty talk?”

“Boring talk. How our days went, movies we want to see, weird things customers ordered at the restaurant, stupid things that happened at the bar.”

“I could fill up an entire day with that.”

She laughed. His chin rested on the top of her head. “Why is this your fantasy?”

“I don’t know.”

“Must be a reason.”

“I just like the idea of having someone to lean on sometimes.”

She hadn’t really meant to admit that, but something about the warmth of his skin and the thud of his heart had lulled her into an unguarded moment that she would surely regret later. “The night I got fired, I wished I had someone to lean on.”

Beneath her ear, his heart raced. “What did you do instead?”

“Watched TV and cried.”

His breath caught. “I would have held you.”

“I didn’t like you then, remember?”

He responded with a brush of his thumb against her waist. “What about now?”

“I’m getting there.”

She felt him swallow. Hard. “What else happens in this fantasy?”

“You rub my back.”

His muscles shifted, and anticipation danced along her nerves. His hand slid beneath the fabric of her shirt and began a lazy path up her spine. “Like this?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes and curled her fingers into his shirt. He was hard beneath her touch. She was weak beneath his.

“Tell me more,” he murmured, voice strained beneath the rise and fall of his own labored breathing. There was no mistaking the tug of heavy desire in every exhalation.

“Maybe rub my neck.”

“Now you’re just milking it.”

She laughed, but then she went motionless as his hand slid up farther under her shirt. His fingers began to work magic against the tight cords of her neck. She tilted her head to give him greater access. “Are you trying to get lucky?”

“I already feel lucky.”

Her breath lodged in her chest. When she opened her eyes and looked up, she found the affection she’d heard in his voice also in his eyes, gazing down at her through dark pupils. Whatever they were doing—whatever was suddenly happening—it was monumental. Intimate. Hot. And so dangerous.

“Just so you know,” he rasped. “I’m thinking about it again.”

“About what?”

“Kissing you.”

She swallowed hard. “But you’re not sure?”

“I’m nervous,” he said.

She could barely hear over the roar of her own blood. “Why?”

“Because I want to do it right.”

“I imagine you have enough experience to make that a non-issue.”

“It’s not the experience that matters. It’s the emotions. Mine are kind of jumbled right now.”

Her chest pinched. “Wow. Sometimes I think I’ve got you all figured out, and then you go and say super-sweet things like that.”

“Don’t tell anyone. It’ll blow my image.”

“Maybe you could just actually get around to kissing me?”

He dipped his head toward hers and hovered there, mouth over mouth, breath to breath. She realized with a jolt that he wasn’t kidding. He was nervous. Or maybe this was that kiss foreplay he’d mentioned. He caught her bottom lip between both of his and tugged gently and then did the same to her top lip. They stayed like that, feeling each other, adjusting to each other, to the sudden change in their relationship.