Chapter 18 Mac
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 find Miss Hudson so 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.
A memory so vivid it slammed into me, capable of knocking me on my ass if I let it: my tongue tracing the cool metal, the way her back arched, the way she moaned my name like it was a prayer and a curse all at once.
Fuck.
Not the time. Definitely not the place.
Clearing my throat, I stepped from carpet to vinyl, the sound of my boots sharper now as I crossed the room toward her. She was laughing with a group of older women—probably organizing some craft show uprising—and when I got close, the entire group quieted like I wandered into some sacred coven I wasn’t supposed to know about.
“Ladies,” I greeted with a tight nod, eyes already on Penny. “Sorry to break up the gossip circle, but I’ve gotta steal her. The second graders are calling, and apparently, Miss Hudson is the only one who can answer.”
Penny smirked and muttered something that made the women laugh before they scattered like sparrows. None of them gave a damn about me—and that wasn’t new. Most older women didn’t like me… unless they were looking for a good time.
Maybe it was the tattoos.
Once we were alone, I bumped her shoulder lightly. Penny glanced up at me with those warm brown eyes, and something inside me pulled tight.
“I didn’t do half bad,” I said, throwing her a grin.
“Hmm, is that so?” she replied, amusement playing on her lips.
“Don’t act like you didn’t sneak in to watch.”
She stopped walking. I took a few more steps before realizing, then turned to face her.
“I was making sure the kids were okay,” she said, arching a brow. “You don’t know the first thing about children. For all I knew, you passed out cigarettes and taught them how to light them.”
I barked a laugh, planting my hands on my hips. “The teacher was literally five feet away. You think I’d corrupt her, too?”
I gave her a once-over—subtle, but not enough to go unnoticed. I watched the way her chest rose and fell, saw the blush coloring her skin, fading just below the neckline of her dress.
When my gaze met hers again, she was throwing daggers.
“Stop looking at me like you’re gonna eat me,” she rasped, voice lower than before. Not angry. Not warning. No—there was a softness in her tone that said she didn’t hate it.
“I can’t help it, Penelope,” I murmured, stepping just a breath closer. “You have that effect on me.”
She made a sound—barely a whimper—and shook her head, smiling despite herself.
Her fingers reached for my arm, warm and light. “Thank you, Mac. It means a lot that you came today. You really saved my ass.”
The teasing fell away, and something steadier settled between us.
Being flirty with Penny came naturally. It always had. But if I really wanted her—if I wanted more—then I had to show her the side of me I’d been quietly building. The part I’d uncovered reading romance novels I wouldn’t admit to borrowing, or after long conversations with Rhodes that forced me to feel shit instead of pushing it away.
“Anything you need,” I said, voice low, steady. “I’ll be there. You call, I’m yours.”
Penny’s eyes searched mine. “They did seem to like you.”
I smirked. “What can I say? I have that effect on people.”
She giggled—sweet, soft—and took a step back.
“Well, I better wrangle the little monsters and get them to their next event. The ladies are probably wondering where I am, too. If you see anyone at the front desk, can you let them know I’ll be right there?”
“Of course. I’ll see you around, Penelope.”
She waved, fingers fluttering, and turned toward the youth section while I headed for the exit.
As I passed the front desk, an older man stood waiting, so I made good on my promise and let him know Penny would be back soon.
Then the warm Texas air hit me like a wave.
I slipped a cigarette from my back pocket, lit it against the breeze, and leaned back into the sun. That had been one hell of a morning, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
As I walked to the truck, I remembered how I’d caught a glimpse of her watching me, that faint, knowing smile tugging at her lips. Yeah. I was getting through to her. Slowly but surely, I was showing her the man I wanted to be—for her.
That was validation I was doing something right, and I’d latch onto that small sliver of hope ’til the end.
Climbing into the driver’s seat, I glanced down and spotted a stubborn speck of pink glitter on the floorboard.
I laughed softly to myself.
Glitter had been in here for months. No matter how many times I vacuumed, it never went away, so I stopped trying and left it there.
A reminder. A memory.
I realized just how special Penny truly was, because glittering my truck? Yeah, that was exactly the kind of wild thing I would do.
The thing about a woman like her?
You don’t just let her walk away.
You fight for her.
You stay.
And you figure out how to love her the way she deserves—no matter what it takes.