Page 16 of Just for Tonight

She smiles and flushes. “Me, too,” she whispers as if we’re sharing a secret. Our gazes lock and I can’t take a breath.

Mackenzie touches our glasses together and the chime breaks the spell. We drink the toast, even though I’d rather celebrate with a kiss, then she reads my mind one more time. She puts the glass down on the counter and loops her arms around my neck again, pulling me closer. I lean against her, crushing her against the counter just a little bit, and it’s oh-so-very-good. My glass gets set aside too and I wrap my arms around her. She’s tall but I’m taller, just a bit, just enough, and I bend to lean my forehead against hers.

“Your call,” I murmur and she’s pleased by that. She pushes her fingers through my hair, her gaze roving over me, then her fingertips slide down my neck.

“You do look exhausted.”

“Pretty much.”

“How long have you been up?”

I can’t resist. “Since I saw you at the restaurant.”

She smirks, looking wicked, and rolls her hips against me. I growl a little and grip her waist, lifting her to her toes. “I mean, when did you get out of bed?”

“1:42.” I ease in to nuzzle beneath her ear but she pulls back a little to consider me.

“Not around 1:30 or just before 2?”

“No. It was 1:42 when the phone rang and that’s when I got up. I didn’t answer right away, but I was awake.”

She’s studying me. “Are you always so precise?”

“Pretty much. I met you at 9:27 at that reception.”

A smile lifts the corner of her mouth. “I remember you checking your watch. I didn’t think you were marking the time.”

“Call it a habit.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “I like numbers. I like accuracy.” Her hands are moving against my shoulders, right at the crick of my neck. Everything is tight there and when her fingers find a knot, my wince must give me away.

“You’re really tense.”

“I’ve been dealing with Candace most of the day.”

“Don’t like your step-mother?”

I shake my head. “Do you?”

It’s a treat to watch her try to find a polite thing to say, a pleasure because I know we share the same view of Candace. I like that we agree, and I respect that Mackenzie is nicer than me. She parts her lips, then frowns, giving a little more attention to the knot in my shoulder. “She means well,” she says finally and I laugh out loud.

“Okay, I’ll give you that. But she’s not nice and she’s not kind and she’s not particularly clever. I don’t think she’s attractive, either…”

“She must have been once upon a time.”

“And she is incredibly expensive.”

Mackenzie’s eyes narrow a little. “What does that mean?”

“Numbers,” I say. “I do numbers.”

She shakes her head, just a little, not understanding.

“I’m a financial analyst. Today I have been checking the bills, prompted by the arrival of the following.” I lean back against the counter and count them off. “A masseuse, a make-up consultant, a hairstylist, a beautician to do Candace’s nails, and a personal shopper, charged with finding the ideal look for the grieving widow at the as-yet-unscheduled funeral. There was also an interior decorator with an appointment about the ongoing renovation of the guest room, a furniture delivery, an upholsterer with a book of swatches, and a garden designer about the new pool and cabana.”

“But there already is a pool and cabana.”