Page 62 of Calling the Shots

Gracelyn: I will. Don’t worry—not much trouble you can get into at a high school dance

Bestie: IDK. There are a few teachers over there who are absolutely feral for him

Gracelyn: Well, he is pretty good looking

Bestie: Eww. That’s my DAD, Grace

Gracelyn: Just saying—I can see the appeal

Gracelyn: But I understand. I’ll watch out for him

Knock, knock, knock.

Gracelyn: Gotta jet. Mack’s here

Bestie: Have fun! Luv ya!

Taking a deep breath, I suck in my stomach and open the door.

“Wow. You look…amazing.” Mack’s voice is low and husky as his eyes rake over my body, lingering on my chest. “Wow.”

“Thanks. You look pretty damn handsome yourself.”

And he does. I’ve never seen him dressed up before, not in all the time he’s lived next door to my mom.

I didn’t think he could get any hotter.

I was wrong.

The fancy clothes tip him into a whole new stratosphere of gorgeous. His dark blue suit fits him perfectly—it has to be custom tailored to stretch over those broad shoulders. His sandy waves are slightly gelled and brushed back from his face, his facial hair neatly trimmed, highlighting his strong jawline.

“Thanks. These are for you.” Mack hands me a stunning bouquet of red and white roses tied with a chic black satin ribbon.

“Aww, sweet. Thanks. I’ll put them in a vase real quick, then we can go.”

I hurry to the kitchen and drop the roses into a vase, leaning in and taking a quick sniff.

Mack brought me roses.

I can’t remember the last time a man brought me flowers. My heart hammers, fizzy excitement bubbling inside me.

“Ready?” I cut the lights and Mack takes my arm, leading me out to his truck and helping me into the cab.

“You mentally prepared for a night of fruit punch and noisy high schoolers?” His gravelly voice sends an electric thrill racing up and down my spine.

“Absolutely. Sounds like a great night.” I shoot him a wide smile.

“You’re a strange girl, Gracelyn Reynolds. But I’m glad you’ll be with me.”

He backs down the driveway and I relax into the well-worn leather seat, warm happiness flushing my chest.

This man could be the one for me.

One hand on the wheel, Mack reaches over and brings my hand to his mouth, brushing my fingers lightly with his lips. The warm exhale of his breath dusts my skin and I’m struck by the sweet gesture. So small, so slight, yet so tender. Hot tears prick at the corners of my eyes, threatening my three coats of mascara.

“I’m glad you asked me.” I gaze over at him, the masculine scent of pine winding around me and lulling me into a Mack-stupor. The same stupor that sends my pulse into overdrive and floods my panties with even the most innocuous touch.

“Firecracker, there’s no one in the world I’d rather have with me at the Homecoming dance than you.” He cuts his deep green eyes at me and my breath hitches in my throat, heart pounding. That’s the sweetest thing a man’s ever said to me in my whole damn life.

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