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“Hey, Cowgirl, we’re home. I’m going to sit you up, but you stay right there. I’ll come get you.”
“I can walk, Mac.”
“Yes, and I can carry you. Considering how much trouble you’re in, you might want to start looking for ways to make me forget you almost got yourself killed.”
She looked at him and realized the bantering tone was for Gus, but he was more serious about his threat than not. Willa stayed put. Mac opened her door and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her into the house, and was almost knocked over by Mandy.
“Is she okay? Have you been hurt? Why didn’t you take her to the hospital?”
“Let’s see, in order. She’s fine, she isn’t hurt, and she hates hospitals, so trying to keep her in one is more trouble than I want tonight.”
Mandy stepped back. “Sorry. But you’re really okay?”
“I will be when Mighty Mac here puts me down.”
Mandy giggled as did Willa. John glared at both of them, and Mac rolled his eyes.
“Did I miss something?” Gus asked.
“Nothing of substantive value,” Mac responded.
“Not true,” Willa accused. “I highly value it, and it has lots and lots of substance.” She and Mandy broke into gales of feminine laughter.
“Do I want to know?” Gus asked no one in particular.
“At some point, Mac might want to have a discussion with Willa about things you do and don’t say in front of a team of federal marshals. My fear is he may well be stuck with that moniker,” John said with a chuckle.
“Mac? We’re in the house. Want to put me down?” Willa asked sweetly.
“Not particularly.”
“Please?” She kissed his cheek, then nibbled his ear. “I’d really like to have a shower.”
He set her on her feet. “Fine, but don’t be too long.”
“I won’t. I just want the trail grime off.”
By the time Willa had showered and rejoined them, Mandy had made a great pasta with scallops, garlic bread, and a big leafy salad. Mac seemed to want her where he could reach out and touch her, so they ate in the living room. After the men did the dishes, Gus excused himself to head down to his place, and shortly after, Mandy and John did the same.
As Mac closed the door, he turned to Willa, arched his eyebrow, and pointed to their bedroom without saying a word. Willa thought about trying to argue or plead her case but decided she had caused him enough grief for one day. She walked into their bedroom, removed her clothing, and stood in the corner by the fireplace.
“Would that you had thought about behaving this afternoon.”
“He had Gus.”
“You had a team of highly trained US Marshals with you, and a whole unit, who could have been called up to help. Do youremember what I told you would happen if you misbehaved at the safe house while I wasn’t there?”
She whirled around. “You can’t honestly mean, after the day I’ve had, you expect me to let you spank me?”
“Put that nose back in the corner, Cowgirl, or when I turn your ass the right shade of red, you and my belt will have a discussion about what happens to naughty cowgirls when they disobey their man. As it is now, I’m willing to forego welting your pretty bottom because, as you said, you’ve had one helluva day, but there is no way you get a free pass on putting your life in danger.”
The bedsprings creaked as he sat down.
“Come here to me, Willa. This needs to be done.”
She turned to see him pat his knee.
“Mac?” She hated the way her voice sounded even to her own ears—pathetic and whiney.
