He sighed and hugged her. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Aw. You sure don’t.”
He tickled her as payback, and she howled with laughter as she tickled him right back.
But all that wrestling woke them both up.
“Aw, hell.”
She looked down at Mack from her vantage, sitting on his stomach and holding his wrists down on either side of his head. “What’s your problem now? That you’re losing?”
“That you woke Junior up,” he complained, a twinkle in his eye. “Now you have to put him back to bed.” He arched up against her, and she felt something hard against her butt.
She grinned. “Junior, huh?”
“You can call it whatever you want. A big old tent pole. God’s gift to women. Your favorite beef jerky.” He guffawed. “Just don’t bite too hard, eh?”
“But, Mack, why use my mouth when I have something so much better?” She wriggled against his belly, rubbing back against his erection.
“Why indeed?”
They fell asleep much later. And Cass had the absolute best dreams, wrapped up in her lover’s arms.
Chapter Eighteen
Mack knew he’d made a mistake asking Cass to join him for a full-family dinner. He’d gone back and forth over the idea to invite her, but after getting soused at her parents’, then losing his mind buried inside her last night, he’d had to ask.
Her parents had been wonderful. Polite and intelligent, compassionate and funny. No wonder Cass seemed like such a well-rounded individual. She knew her own worth and her own mind because her parents had raised her so well. And, man, did they love her. He could hear their pride in every word of her accomplishments. And he agreed. She was fucking wonderful.
Knowing about her sister’s passing helped paint a picture of a family who’d come together in grief and grown stronger. Her father had been delighted to point out several pictures of his daughters in addition to the photos of Cass winning some trophy or another. And one of her standing with Jed in their blues.
Mack’s family had plenty of photos strewn around the house. Tons of pictures of their boys in blue, but not so many of Mack in his gear, with his firefighting brethren. And, yeah, that did still bother him, even after so many years. As kids, James and Alec had drawn pictures of policemen that ended up on the refrigerator door. He had drawn fire trucks and planes and cars that ended up tucked away in a binder he had to keep in his room. And Xavier, well, he just acted like the police, constantly putting Mack in jail for imagined infractions.
A dick then, a dick now.
Mack and Cass parked down the street and walked past several vehicles to get to the walkway. Everyone had already arrived.
“Nice house,” she said, looking at the old two-story colonial located in Queen Anne.
“Yeah. I never lived here. They bought a nice place once their four boys moved out.” He smiled. “Can’t say I blamed them.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“West Seattle. Nice neighborhood, but I like living on the east side of the city better.”
“Me too.”
They smiled at each other.
He leaned in to whisper, “Remember, you liked me before we got here. Don’t judge me on my family.”
“Oh stop.” She kissed him just as the door opened, and Xavier of all people stood there.
His jaw dropped. “What the fuck?” His eyes narrowed. “Who hit you?”
“Xavier Anthony Revere, watch your mouth,” his mother said and shoved him aside. “Mack? What happened to your face?”
“Hazard of the job.”
