Page 23 of Mace

Rosie was an excellent bartender and wonderful conversationalist who helped me take my mind off of my worries. She was bright, fun-loving, and said exactly what was on her mind. She lent me a self-help book on starting over and after lunch I hid away in our room and started reading it. Rosie said that it really helped her out at one time after she suffered a hard discard by a former fiancé. She explained that the book helped her get her head straight.

I didn’t think Rosie would lead me astray, so I made a start on reading the book right away. I guess I have gotten lost in reading because the next thing I knew, Mace was back, and it was getting dark outside. I dog-eared my page and gave Nine a little cuddle while Mace showered and got into some clean clothing.

When he came back out, he looked amazing, especially in his new leather cut. He was so handsome I almost couldn’t take my eyes off him.

“Do you like what you see when you look at me?” he asked with a grin.

“Of course I do. Any woman would. You are one handsome man, I love your eyes, I never noticed how black they are until just now.”

The lopsided smile dropped right off his face. “I do not have black eyes.”

“Whoa! What’s with the cold tone?”

He stretched his neck as if irritated and responded in a constrained voice. “People have told me my whole life that I have strange eyes. My Sunday school teacher once called me a black-eyed devil in front of all the other kids. She was an older woman who didn’t like that I did things my own way. I got bullied about having devil eyes forever. Most people don’t realize that black isn’t an eye color.”

Leaning down, he pointed to his face, “See? My eyes are simply such a dark brown they look black.”

I reached up, wrapped my hand around his long braid and gently pulled him so close we were practically nose to nose. “Ah, I see that now. Your eyes aren’t strange by the way, They’re beautiful, I didn’t mean anything bad by describing them as black. Sorry your Sunday school teacher was such an asshole.”

He pulled back a bit and when he looked at me, his expression softened. “Don’t know why I’m so fucked up about the eye thing. It was a long time ago.”

“People don’t realize the harm that throwaway comments can sometimes have.”

Suddenly, he was smiling again, though there was a twinkle in his eyes. “You’re real sweet to me but I won’t forgive you until you make it up to me.”

When his gaze dropped to my lips, I knew what he wanted, and it was something that had been on my mind too… A lot. “How about a kiss? Would that make it all better?”

He glanced down at my hand which was still grasping his long braid. “You offering because you want to, or just to appease me?”

“Why can’t it be both?” I said as I looped his braid around my hand again, drawing him closer. One more loop and he was so close that he had to brace his big body on the back of the chair with one hand to keep from falling on me.

The next thing I knew, he tipped my head back and kissed me. It was slow, sensual, and when his tongue swiped across the seam of my lips, I opened my mouth for him without hesitation. Suddenly, we were knee deep in the kind of kiss that I’ve only ever dreamed about. And this man was an expert at kissing. After a few moments, he pulled back and gazed down at me. “Consider yourself forgiven, darlin’.”

When he pushed himself back and stood up again, my fingers came up to touch my lips. I know I must have looked a little awestruck, but I couldn’t help it.

Mace teased, “Shake it off, girl. We have the whole evening ahead of us. I can’t have you swooning just yet.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his brazen flirting, “Mariposón.”

“You callin’ me a butterfly?”

I raised my eyebrow, “You speak Spanish?”

Mace shrugged, “Enough to get me into trouble, but not enough to get me out again.”

I laughed, “It means you’re an outrageous flirt.”

“I’ve been called many things in my lifetime but never a flirt.”

While he was pulling on his boots, I glanced at the pile of clothing he’d stuffed into the laundry hamper, “From the look of your clothes when you came home, you must have been crawling through mud or something, today.”

He laughed. “Not hardly. I was shoveling dirt, and it started raining.”

Excitement strummed through my gut. “Does that mean you found it?”

He stated proudly, “Nope. But I did eliminate one of a dozen possible locations, so that’s progress. You ready to grab some dinner or do you want to shoot some pool first?”

“Pool, unless you’re hungry.”

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