"But Mac, I need you to hear this." She met his eyes, and her voice was steady. "If this happens again, if you doubt me over someone else's lies, I won't defend myself. I won't beg you to believe me. I'll just leave."
Mac flinched. "Rachel—"
"I'm not saying this to threaten you. I'm saying it because I've done this before. It destroyed me." She took a breath. "I won't do it again. Not even for you."
"I understand."
"You get one pass, Mac. This was it. From now on, you believe me first and investigate second. That's the only way this works."
Mac nodded slowly. "I can do that."
"Good." Rachel took his hand. "Because I love you. And I want this to work. But I love myself enough not to repeat my past."
It wasn't forgiveness. Not completely. But it was a boundary set. Mac would spend the rest of his life making sure he never crossed it, Rachel was sure of that.
"So," Mac said after a moment, "on a scale of one to ten, how badly did I screw up? And be honest. I can take it."
"Eleven."
"Ouch."
Mac pulled her closer, his hand sliding to her waist. "I'm sorry. Truly sorry. And I'm going to spend a very long time making this up to you."
"Yes, you are."
"Starting now?" Mac's voice dropped lower, his thumb tracing circles on her hip through her shirt.
Rachel looked up at him, her breath catching at the heat in his eyes.
She nodded.
Mac kissed her gently at first, carefully, like she might break. But Rachel made a small sound of frustration and kissed him back harder, her hands fisting in his shirt and pulling him closer. Mac groaned against her mouth, his control slipping. His hands slid down to grip her hips, pulling her flush against him so she could feel exactly how much he wanted her.
"Rachel," he breathed against her lips, then kissed her deeper, his tongue sliding against hers.
Rachel's hands moved to his hair, tugging slightly, and Mac made a sound low in his throat that sent heat pooling through her. He walked her backward until her back hit the wall, hisbody pressed against hers, one hand braced beside her head while the other gripped her thigh, hitching her leg up around his hip.
"God, I missed you," Mac murmured against her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point.
Rachel arched into him, her breath coming faster. "Mac—"
He kissed her again, slow and deep and thorough, like he was trying to memorize the taste of her. When they finally pulled apart, both breathing hard, Mac rested his forehead against hers. His hands were still on her hips, thumbs stroking the bare skin where her shirt had ridden up.
"I really am sorry," he whispered, his voice rough.
They stood there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, neither quite ready to let go. Mac's hands moved up her sides, achingly slow, and Rachel shivered.
"We should—" she started.
"I know." Mac kissed her once more, soft and sweet this time. Then he stepped back, reluctantly, putting space between them. "Business."
Rachel smoothed down her shirt, her cheeks flushed. "Right. Business. We have the town hall meeting Friday. We still need to expose Derek. United front."
"United front," Mac agreed, his eyes still dark with want.
"After the town hall, after Derek is dealt with, we'll talk more. About us. About what happens next."
"Okay."
