Page 22 of The Gingerbread Bakery
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘I should probably go home.’
‘I’ll drive you.’
Neither of them moved. Annie released his necklace and let her hand rest in the space between them on the bed. They were only one of Annie’s hand’s-width apart. Annie had small hands.
‘It’s probably cold out,’ Annie whispered, her eyelids beginning to droop.
‘It definitely is.’
‘I already told my mom I was staying with a friend…’ Her voice trailed off as her eyes closed.
‘A friend?’ Mac whispered.
Annie smiled in her almost-sleep, giving him a contented sigh. ‘Yeah… a friend.’
He stayed like that, taking in all the details of her face, all the things that made her Annie. The little scar on the bridge of her nose, the curve of her cheek, the shorter, fine blonde hairs that surrounded her face. He knew he shouldn’t kiss her. Despite what fairy tales would have you believe, he knew a girl should be conscious for that, but God, was it tempting with her lips right there.
‘Stop staring at me, Mac. It’s creepy.’
Mac rolled onto his back with a laugh. ‘You scared the crap out of me. I thought you were asleep.’
‘No one falls asleep that quickly, and I could sense you looking at me.’
‘Sorry,’ he said, the laughter still in his voice. ‘So, are you staying over?’
‘As long as you promise not to gaze at me longingly all night.’
‘Ha! Who says I was doing it longingly?’
‘I could sense that, too.’ She was smiling now, even though her eyes were still closed.
‘No more staring,’ he promised as he pulled a blanket over her.
‘Goodnight, Annie.’
‘Goodnight, Mac,’ she murmured, snuggling down into the blanket. It was then that he realized she was still holding his stuffed polar bear.
Of course she was.
He pulled his own blanket over himself and turned away from Annie to avoid any more embarrassing staring incidents.
And that was how Mac had his first sleepover with a girl, and he honestly didn’t know if it was love or lust taking root, but it was definitely one of the two.
Or maybe both.
ChapterNine
Now
Mac had insisted on driving them to the Y to look for Nana in his big, dumb vehicle that was some kind of half truck, half SUV monstrosity and older than both of them.Vintagewas what he called it when she’d commented on it. A vintage Ford Bronco, he’d informed her like she was supposed to be impressed.
She was not.
And the only reason Annie allowed it was because she was out of gas. Again. She hadn’t had time in between everything else she was doing to stop and fill her tank, but she could have. Shewouldhave this morning, if Mac wasn’t being so pushy and insisting that he be the one to drive.
