Chapter 35
The apartment was quiet again after Liam and Sam left, though the echo of Mack's temper still lingered like smoke in the air. He sat back on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, his jaw tight.
Viola curled up beside him, tugging at his shirt until he looked down at her.
"You know," she said softly, "you kind of sounded like a… dad back there."
His brow arched. "Dad?"
"Yeah." She smirked. "All protective, growling threats, scaring the poor guy half to death. If you'd had a shotgun, it would've been straight out of a small-town sitcom."
Mack groaned, running a hand over his face. "Christ, don't call me that."
"What? A dad?" she teased, poking his ribs. "You'd make a good one. Terrifying, but… good."
He caught her hand mid-poke, holding it firm against his chest. His eyes locked on hers, and for a moment she couldn't breathe.
"You think I haven't thought about it?" he asked, voice low and raw. "About you. About us. About what it would be like to come home to you every night… maybe hear little feet running through the hall."
Vi's heart stuttered. She hadn't expected that. Not from him.
"Mack…" she whispered.
"I'm not saying it's now. Hell, I'm not saying it's soon. But don't think for a second I haven't pictured it, Vi." His thumb brushed over her knuckles, gentle in contrast to the heat in his voice. "And don't think I wouldn't kill to keep that safe."
Her throat tightened, torn between wanting to lean into him and the fear of letting herself fall. He must have felt her hesitation, because instead of pushing, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple and leaned back.
"No pressure," he murmured. "Just… know it's there. In me."
Viola swallowed hard, staring at the faint smirk tugging at his lips. Terrifying, irresistible man. He was going to ruin her.
- - - - - - - - - -
Viola's fingers pause mid-stroke on the keyboard, a shiver running through her as Mack's lips brush against her shoulder. She's been so lost in her writing, the words flowing freely as she tried to exorcise the demons of her past. But his touch is a jolt, a reminder that she's not alone,
"Mack," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. She turns to face him, her emerald eyes meeting his dark gaze. "What are you doing up?"
He smirks, his hand tracing the curve of her waist. "I could ask you the same thing.
It's late, or early, depending on how you look at it," Mack responds, his voice a low rumble that sends a thrill down Viola's spine. He leans in, his breath hot on her ear. "And you're still dressed. I expected better from you."
Viola raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. "Expected better, huh? You're not in charge of my wardrobe, Mack. Besides, I was working." She gestures to the laptop, the screen now blank, save for the faint glow of the Apple logo.
"Writing, remember? That thing I do for a living?"
Mack grins, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "Ah, yes. The writing. How's the next bestseller coming along?"
Viola rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "It's good, actually. I was on a roll before you rudely interrupted me."
Mack's grin widens, and he leans in, his lips brushing against hers. "Is that so? Well, then, let's take a break.
You can't write when I'm kissing you, can you?" Mack's hands move to the buttons of her shirt, his fingers deftly undoing them one by one. Viola's breath hitches as he slips the fabric off her shoulders, his eyes scanning her body appreciatively.
"You're not playing fair," she murmurs, her hands reaching up to tangle in his dark hair. "I'm supposed to be working."
Mack chuckles, the sound low and intimate. "You're always working, Vi. When was the last time you took a break?
A real break, not just a pause between chapters or a quick coffee run?" Mack's hands slide down her arms, his thumbs tracing the sensitive skin on the inside of her elbows. He leans back, his eyes holding hers as he slowly starts to lift her shirt up. . . .
Viola swallows hard, her heart pounding in her chest. "I don't know. A while, I guess."
Mack nods, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, tonight's your night off. Consider it an executive order."
Viola laughs, a soft, breathy sound that sends a shiver down her spine.
"Executive order, huh? And who put you in charge?"
Mack's smirk turns into a full-blown grin, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that makes Viola's stomach flip. "I did," he says, his voice laced with a commanding authority that sends a thrill through her. "But don't worry, you can trust me. I know what's best for you."
Viola's eyebrows rise, a playful challenge in her eyes. "Oh, really? And what makes you so sure of that?"
Mack's hands pause in their ministrations, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Because I care about you, Viola. More than I should, probably." He leans in, his forehead resting against hers. "Because I want to keep you safe, and not just from the bad guys. From the ghosts of your past, too."
Viola's breath catches, her heart pounding in her chest. She searches his eyes, looking for any sign of deception, but all she finds is sincerity. "Ghosts?" she whispers, her voice barely audible.
Mack nods, his thumbs gently rubbing circles on her hips. "The ones that haunt you.