Page 28 of The Gingerbread Bakery (Dream Harbor #5)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Now

A nnie knew that Mac had bought his parents’ old house, but somehow pulling up in the driveway still felt disorienting, as though she’d gone back in time.

‘I was half expecting your mom to greet us when we came in,’ she said as they shucked their boots and coats by the door.

Mac huffed a laugh. ‘Yeah, I half expect it sometimes, too.’

‘Do you miss them?’

‘Yeah, of course I do. But it’s my own fault. I guess I made traveling sound too good. Once I bought the pub, they got an RV and never looked back.’

‘Never looked back, huh?’ She knew that couldn’t be true. He and his mom had always been so close.

‘Other than the phone call I get from my mom every other day,’ he said with a self-deprecating smile.

They walked through the entryway into the kitchen where Mac set the box of kittens on the island.

‘Wow!’ Annie said, spinning in a small circle.

‘It looks really good in here.’ The kitchen had been completely redone.

It was sleek and clean, white cabinets and granite countertops.

It helped her feeling of déjà vu subside.

This was a new house and she and Mac were new people. They weren’t kids anymore.

‘We might have kitty litter out in the garage,’ he said, rubbing the back of his head.

‘I think my dad kept some in case we got stuck in the snow.’ He moved around setting up things for the cats while Annie focused on petting them and not thinking about everything else she wanted to do with Mac in this shiny new kitchen.

She was fifty-fifty on wanting to bake something and wanting to tear his clothes off with her teeth. Maybe they had time for both?

He set out a little dish with water and another with some tuna for the cats and Annie set them down on the floor. They immediately raced to the dishes, mewing happily and scarfed down their dinner.

‘It was good of you to take them,’ she said as they watched the little kitten’s feast.

Mac shrugged. He wasn’t watching the cats. When Annie looked up, his gaze was all for her.

By the time the kittens had eaten their fill and curled up in a little pile together, Annie thought she might need to spend some more time with her head in the freezer.

‘Annie,’ Mac’s voice was gruff when he spoke. He was close to her again and she wished he would touch her.

‘What are we doing?’ she asked, desperate to get a handle on the situation, on herself, on anything. She was slipping again, falling for Mac, and last time it had taken her so long to get back up. Did she really want to do that again?

Mac’s hand slid to the nape of her neck, his fingers strong and firm. She wanted to tell him to squeeze tighter, to hold onto her this time.

‘Let me make it up to you,’ he whispered.

She wanted to. She wanted him to make it up to her. All the years she hurt, all the years she missed him. She wanted him to make it up to her.

‘What’s it going to take, Annie? Do I need to get down on my knees for you?’

The question sent a shiver down her spine. Mac felt it and his eyes darkened. ‘Is that what you want, Annabelle? You want me on my knees?’

She couldn't speak, her voice trapped in a throat that was tight with emotion and desire and fear.

‘If that’s what it takes,’ he said, dropping to his knees in front of her.

Annie sucked in a breath. She looked down and found him staring up at her.

It was everything she had wanted for ten years.

Mac begging for her forgiveness, Mac wanting her.

The fantasy in her mind had gone back and forth between her rejecting him and Mac pleasuring her until she forgave him.

It depended on her mood, and which mood was she in now?

Should she walk away like he had? Did she have it in her to reject him?

For so many years, she had thought she'd fallen in love with Mac and that he had fallen in love with her, but she’d been foolish and young and the whole thing had just been sex.

But she was older now. She knew sex with Mac didn't have to be anything other than that. It wouldn’t mean love, but it didn’t have to. Maybe she could finally get what she wanted from him.

She held his gaze, letting her fingers run through his hair, savoring the deep groan that rumbled through him. She gave a little tug. ‘And how exactly are you going to make it up to me?’ she asked.

A wicked grin crossed his face, his hands lifting to her hips. His fingertips dug into her flesh. ‘I thought I would start by licking you until you scream.’