Page 62 of The Games We Play
I sipped from my bottle as I quietly stood in the back of the kids’ section, keeping to the edge of the room. What I saw made my breath hitch in a way I didn’t expect.
Mac was into it.
His voice shifted from soft and growly to squeaky and shrill as he brought the dragon characters to life. His expressions were animated, eyes wide, brows rising, mouth twisting into exaggerated shapes with every turn of the page. The kids? They were enraptured. Completely locked in on him, giggling and gasping at every twist in the story.
And me?
I was locked in, too.
Something warm cracked through my chest, just enough to make me suck in a slow breath. The wall I’d carefully built between Mac and my heart had a fracture now—a thin, glittering line of something…
We’d never gotten serious enough to talk about the future. Kids, family, that kind of thing—it was all just too far away then. But now, standing there watching him like this, the urge stirred in me. A tiny ache, sweet and slow, crept up my spine. A vision I hadn’t asked for slipped into my mind.
Little feet pounding through our house. Laughter echoing off the walls. Mac making those same ridiculous faces, telling bedtime stories to children with his eyes full of love and mischief.Ourchildren.
My head tilted to the side, like some cliché out of a rom-com—the moment the female lead realizes,Oh no, I’m falling for him.Time didn’t quite stop, but it slowed just enough for my heart to thud a little harder.
Then Mac grinned.
Those dimples. That damn smile. All white teeth and charm and something magnetic that pulled me in without asking.
Nope.
I blinked, snapping myself out of it. I spun on my heels so fast I nearly lost my footing.
I needed to get back to work. Whatever that moment was, it was too much. Too dangerous. Too real. Too soon.
Taking one last sip of water, I headed back toward the rec room. I’d taken this little moment to cool down… and somehow ended up feeling anything but.
18
MAC
Iwas fucking exhausted.
Who knew reading to second graders could feel like putting on a damn five-act show? My throat was raw, my face ached from over-exaggerating every single expression, and I was pretty sure I pulled something in my jaw trying to mimic a baby dragon’s squeal.
When Boone pitched the idea of me filling in for him, he didn’t exactly undersell it. He laid out all the rules—no monotone reading, no sitting there like a statue, and definitely no skimming the pages. These kids wanted a performance. And I… well, theatrics weren’t really in my skill set.
Sure, I was charming. Women liked me. But that brand of wit didn’t always translate to kids hopped up on imagination.
Boone wasn’t sick. We’d planned this since Thursday morning after everyone ambushed me at the bar. Their ambush meant well. They saw something in Penny and me and wanted to help get that something back.
Hell, I saw it, too.
The more everyone around us believed it, the more I started to trust those gut punches I’d been feeling since I started paying attention. Really paying attention to Penny.
With the kids satisfied and their little minds off in dragon worlds, I figured it was time to findMiss Hudsonso she could escort them to their next adventure.
Boots hitting soft carpet, I wandered toward the rec room—I’d only found it because Penny had muttered something about it earlier while half-talking to herself. She did that sometimes when she was frazzled, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it endearing as hell.
My eyes scanned the room.
Gray hair everywhere. A sea of cardigans and sensible shoes. But then I saw her.
Penny stood tall, arms crossed under her chest, that familiar mop of rich brown hair piled messily on her head. Her dress hugged her in all the right places, cinching at the waist, draping low across her chest. My gaze dipped without permission, catching just the edge of that neckline which was just enough for me to recall a detail no one else in this town would ever know.
The silver bars piercing both of her pale pink nipples.
