Page 72 of Wickedly Betrayed

After the horses are settled in the pasture, we grab our picnic items and my jar of sand and shells and walk, hand in hand, to the house. I still have a giddy feeling at the thought of Mac getting me the sand and shells. Even though I was so hateful to him for all those years, he still thought of me when he was at the beach.

“Can you stay for dinner, or do you work tonight?” Mac asks as we walk up the steps.

“I do, but I have the later shift tonight. I can stay for a little while.”

“Good. How does beef stroganoff sound?”

“It sounds wonderful,” I tell him.

When we make it to the door, I’m suddenly shoved to the side and pushed up against the house. Mac is right there, plastered against me. He only looks into my eyes a second before his mouth slams down on mine. I tip my head back, go up on my tiptoes, and throw my arms around him.

Mac sucks my tongue into his mouth and twirls it with his own. I bite down on his bottom lip, causing him to groan. I lift my leg and wrap it around his hip, bringing my pussy flush against his steel-hard cock.

The kiss doesn’t last long, but long enough to have us out of breath when we pull away.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he says, with a goofy grin. “I know once we go inside I can’t touch you like I want to. I needed something to tide me over.”

I giggle like a damn schoolgirl at his playful behavior, which is something I haven’t done in a long time. Mac is causing me to do a lot of things I’ve never done before or haven’t done in a while. I am finding it easier to be the old me since I’ve found out the truth.

“You can shove me up against the wall anytime you like, Sheriff, just make sure you can follow through with it later.” I taunt him with a flirty smile before slipping out from between him and the wall. He smacks my ass as I walk by him, making me squeal. Again, something I don’t normally do.

We walk through a side door that leads to a mudroom. It holds the washer and dryer, a utility sink, and other normal things you might see in one. Holding my hand, he leads me through the door that goes into the kitchen. When we walk in, Trent looks up from the table where he is sitting in front of a small laptop.

“Hey, T, everything go okay here?” Mac asks, letting go of my hand and setting our stuff down on the counter.

Trent briefly looks up before looking back down at the computer. “Yep, everything was great.” From the tone of his voice, I can tell he didn’t care for us going out together.

“Dinner’s going to be a little early tonight. Mia’s going to stay and eat with us before she goes to work,”

Trent doesn’t respond to his dad’s statement, and when I look at Mac, I can see Trent’s attitude is really starting to bother him.

“Hello, Trent,” I say, trying to defuse the tension in the air. I am bound and determined to get this kid to like me. I know I need to tread carefully, or I could make the situation worse.

“Hey,” he says, without looking up at me. I don’t let his attitude deter me. I glance over at Mac and see him propped up against the counter watching us. I take a seat next to Trent and lean over so I can see his computer screen.

“What are you playing?” I ask him.

He doesn’t look too happy with me being nosy, but when he looks over at Mac, his expression changes slightly.

“Creativerse.”

“I’ve heard of that one. Isn’t it like Minecraft?”

“Yeah. Do you…,” he trails off, and I can see him fighting with himself over something. I watch him, hoping he’ll finish what he was going to say. Finally, he does. “Do you want to try it?”

“Sure, I’d love to. Will you teach me?” I ask, and scoot my chair closer to him.

“Okay.” Trent turns his laptop toward me a bit, and he starts talking me through how to play the game. His words are stilted and a little hard, but the more he talks, the less tense he gets.

I hear Mac working in the kitchen, and I glance up every so often to see him preparing dinner. A few times when I look at him, I catch him quietly watching us with a soft look on his face. Each time I give him a smile.

Several hours later, dinner is ready and Trent and I are laughing at some of the things we’ve created in the game. Trenthasn’t totally loosened up toward me, but I think we’ve made progress. I get up from the table to help Mac finish dinner by getting the plates and silverware.

“Are the plates in the same place?” I ask, stepping up beside him.

“Yes,” he says, and sneaks a peek over his shoulder at Trent. When he sees his eyes glued to the screen, he leans over and plants a quick kiss on my lips.

“I think that went well.” I grab three plates down from the cabinet and silverware out of the drawer in front of me.

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