Page 87 of The Gingerbread Bakery
His eyes sprung open. ‘You're kidding, right?’
Annie blinked back at him. Her flushed cheeks and messy hair were the only evidence that anything had even happened, that just a second ago his hands were in her hair and her mouth was filled with him.
‘I’m not kidding. You know we’re on a tight deadline.’
He ran a hand down his face in frustration. ‘So, we’re just going to pretend this didn't happen? What the hell are we even doing, Annie?’
She sighed, standing up from the bed. ‘I don’t know but maybe I’m not ready to forgive you yet.’
Well, this was a shitty way to come down from an orgasm.
‘But I couldn’t leave you like that all day,’ she added, gesturing toward his lap. ‘Youcouldthank me.’
‘Jesus, Annie. Is this seriously how it’s going to be between us?’
‘We don’t have time to deal with this right now,’ she said, hand on her hip. She was trying to get back to business, but Mac saw the fear in her eyes. She didn’t want to get hurt again. ‘Are you driving me, or should I go get my shovel to dig out my car?’
He tucked himself back into his pants and stood up. ‘I’m still driving you,’ he nearly growled. ‘But this isn’t over between us. I’m not letting it go this time. I'm not going to go from enemies to whatever this is.’ He gestured between them in some futile attempt to explain what they were to each other at the moment. Exes who now orally pleasured each other? Friends who gave each other orgasms every once in a while?
He felt like he was losing his mind. A few days ago, Annie couldn’t stand being in the same room with him, and then this morning it seemed like maybe she was about to forgive him, and now she was giving him blowjobs and trying to pretend it never happened. It was enough to make a man go crazy.
‘Fine,’ Annie ground out, like he was being the unreasonable one. ‘But we really need to go.’
There was clearly no point in arguing with her any further, so he used the bathroom, they grabbed their things and headed for the door. But on the way out he spotted something on Annie’s refrigerator. An old postcard, one he recognized from the Grand Canyon.
‘Wait a minute,’ he said, and Annie paused, glancing back at him. ‘You kept it,’ he said. It was one of the later ones he’d sent her, after he stood her up and went back out on the road. The Grand Canyon was supposed to be one of his original stops, one of the ones on the list they’d made at the diner. He never made it in that first year but when he finally did, he felt like he should let Annie know.
It had been the first time he’d reached back out to her. The first time he’d let himself admit that he missed her.
He’d kept the message simple. Something about the canyon being as cool as they thought it would be and that he hoped she was well.
She’d never written back but she’d kept it.
Annie’s eyes flicked to the postcard and back to his face.
‘Yeah, well you got my name tattooed on you, so I guess we're both idiots,’ she said before heading out the door.
Mac couldn't help but laugh.
He took one last glance at the postcard before following Annie. Maybe there was still hope for them to get this right.
ChapterThirty-Two
Now
In the course of three hours this morning, Annie had hit a man and made the very questionable decision to engage in oral sex with him, and she was now stuck in his passenger seat trying to pretend neither of those things had happened. To his credit, he seemed to be doing the same.
She wouldn't have done those things with anyone other than Mac, the man who seemed to be determined to make her act completely out of character.
Why could she not keep her damn emotions in check around him? She’d spent the last two days wanting to murder him or mount him and today had not provided any more clarity on which option she should choose.
Sure, he’d apologized, but what the hell good did that do her now? She’d spent ten years hating the man; could she really change her feelings for him just like that?
Maybe she should let it go. Maybe no one should be held responsible for things they did before their brain was fully formed.
But every time she looked at him, she remembered how much it had hurt to sit alone in that diner. How was she supposed to forget about that feeling? The feeling of being abandoned by someone you considered a friend? Someone who was supposed to come back for you?
She’d been so convinced he would.
