Rachel arched into him, her body already responding to his touch. "We should do this every day."
"Is that a hint you want to move in with me?" He grinned against her collarbone, kissing the sensitive spot that make her breath catch.
"Maybe." Her hands slid up his back, feeling the warmth of his skin. "Would that be crazy?"
"The best kind of crazy." He kissed her deeply, and for a moment the whole world narrowed to just this: Mac's mouth on hers, his hands gentle on her waist, the steady comfort of him beside her.
Rachel rested her forehead against his. "You’re pretty amazing."
"You’re not so bad yourself." Mac's smiled. "Even if your cat is currently plotting my murder."
Rachel laughed, glancing over at Mr. Darcy, who had indeed intensified his judgmental stare. "He's jealous. He's used to being the only man in my life."
"He's going to have to get used to sharing." Mac pressed another kiss to her shoulder, then sighed. "Though speaking of your cat. I feel like he's in charge."
"He is." Rachel smiled. "What time is it?"
“Seven-thirty. You have that team meeting at eleven.”
Mac groaned. "Emergency meetings the morning after you tell your girlfriend you love her should be illegal. I want to stay in bed with you all day and pretend Matthews doesn't exist."
"That sounds perfect."
"Doesn't it?" Mac turned her in his arms to face him. His hair was adorably messy, sticking up in about seventeen different directions, and his eyes were still half-closed but full of warmth.
He kissed her softly. "I love you."
"I love you too. And I beat you to it."
"You didtellme first. In the garden, but Ifeltit first!" Mac grinned. "But we can debate the timeline later. Right now I just want to enjoy you. This is the best morning ever."
"Mac, the wedding was crashed last night and threatened all of us."
"Still the best morning ever." Mac kissed her forehead. "Coffee?"
"Please."
Mac's hand slid to her lower back, warm and possessive, as he pulled her against him. Not quite sexual, but intimate. His thumb traced lazy circles against her spine.
"If we keep this up, I'm going to be very late for that team meeting."
"Probably." But neither of them moved.
Mac's thumb continued its maddening circles on her lower back, and Rachel's fingers stayed tangled in his hair.
Mr. Darcy meowed loudly from the doorway, breaking the moment.
Mac helped her up, and they moved to the kitchen. Rachel leaned against the counter, watching him navigate her space with that slight awkwardness he had off the ice, reaching for the wrong cabinet, checking with her before opening the fridge. So different from his fluid confidence on skates.
She'd told him she loved him. In front of everyone.
And he'd said it back.
With Brad, she'd waited eight months to say those words. Had rehearsed them, worried about the timing, analyzed his every response.
With Mac, it had just... happened. Natural and real.
So why did she suddenly feel so exposed?
