Saturday? She was moving in with Mac on Saturday… And he was, excited?
"You could have woken me up. I thought—" Rachel stopped herself.
"You thought what?" Mac looked up.
"Nothing. I just woke up and you were gone and for a second I—" Rachel shook her head. "It's stupid."
Mac's face softened. He crossed to her, cupping her face gently. "You thought I'd left?"
Rachel nodded, feeling foolish.
"Rachel, I left a note. On my pillow. Didn't you see it?"
"I didn't look."
"Come here." Mac led her back to the bedroom, pointing to his pillow.
There was indeed a note, written on the back of a receipt in Mac's messy handwriting:
Went to get us breakfast. Back by 6:45. I love you. —Mac
P.S. Mr. Darcy tried to trip me on my way out. I think he's plotting my demise.
Her throat tightened. "You did leave a note."
"Of course I did, didn't want you to worry." Mac pulled her close.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed anything."
"Don't apologize." Mac kissed her forehead. "But I'm here. And I brought apple turnovers because I love you."
They went back to the kitchen where Mac resumed unpacking with renewed enthusiasm.
He pulled out a small container with a flourish. "I also got fresh berries because I'm trying to be a responsible adult who includes fruit in breakfast."
"Mac, it's six-forty-five in the morning."
"I know and it’s not too early to celebrate." Mac was now attempting to operate her French press with the intense focus of someone defusing a bomb.
"Celebrate?"
"In three days, you're officially moving in with me." Mac looked up, smiling in that way that always threw her off balance. "How does this work again?"
"You add the coffee grounds first."
"Right. Grounds. Got it." Mac started measuring coffee. "I also got us matching mugs at the bakery. They were just in. They have cats on them. One says 'Purr-fect' and the other says 'Meowor Never.' I couldn't decide which one you'd want, so I got both."
Rachel smiled. "You got us matching cat mugs?"
"I did. They're in my car though." Mac poured hot water into the French press. "I'm nailing this, by the way. This is going to be the best French press coffee you've ever had."
"You're very confident."
Mr. Darcy, having finished his breakfast, jumped onto the counter to investigate Mac's bakery bag.
"No, sir," Mac said firmly, gently moving the cat. "These are people pastries. You have cat food. We've discussed the boundaries."
Mr. Darcy gave him a look that suggested boundaries were merely suggestions.
