Chapter 11 #2
He leans in close. “You’re welcome, babe.” There’s a sparkle in his green eyes, and I have to look away before I get lost in them. In him.
“What did I miss?” Macklin asks.
“Oh, Bo was just saying that Cope here is going to be the girl dad who’s rocking the cheers at practice on the sidelines,” Dixon explains.
“Definitely,” Macklin agrees, grabbing his beer in one hand and sitting back in his chair, tossing his other arm over the back of mine. He starts to play with my hair, and when I glance over at him, he’s laughing at the expression on Copeland’s face. I don’t even think he knows he’s doing it.
That’s the thing about Macklin that’s different from anyone I’ve ever been with.
He’s open with his feelings and affection.
So much so that it feels staged, but I know in my heart that’s not the case.
Macklin McBride is a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of man, and that’s the total opposite of my ex.
“You’re not wrong,” Copeland tells them with a shrug.
The table laughs, because we know he’s going to be the one spoiling their daughter, and yeah, he’s going to be that dad. I love that for my sister and my niece.
Courtlynn, Leighton, Kelly, and Lorna eventually make it back to our table, and we all scoot in close to add extra chairs. That puts me even closer to Macklin, and instead of pulling away from his touch as I finish each beer, I start to lean into it.
The night is full of laughter, stories of when we were younger, and some more verbal sparring from Courtlynn and Bowen. We all try to get the baby’s name out of Copeland and Ellison, but they’re not budging. Honestly, I can’t remember a time when I had this much fun just being.
Macklin leans forward, placing his hand on my back. “It’s almost midnight. You going to dance with me, sweet Baylor?” he asks.
“Come on, wife, we’re dancing our way into the new year,” Copeland says, standing and offering Ellison his hand.
“Come on, Court,” Dixon says, standing. “Let me spin you around the dance floor to keep you out of trouble.” He finishes his beer, and I watch as Courtlynn’s eyes flash to Bowen before she nods and follows Dixon out to the dance floor.
“What do you say, Bay? Want to step on my toes?” Bowen smirks.
“Fuck off,” Macklin tells him, and Bowen cracks up laughing.
“Touchy.” He grins. “Ladies?”
“The last time, you stepped on my toes,” Kinzie tells him.
“Fine, I’ll take one for the team,” Kelly, Leighton’s best friend, says. She climbs to her feet and follows Bowen to the dance floor.
Macklin stands, offers me his hand, and I don’t hesitate to take it, allowing him to help me stand. He entwines his fingers through mine and guides me to the dance floor. We move until we’re in a back corner where the lights are dimmer, and the crowd isn’t as heavy.
“Finally,” Macklin says, wrapping his arms around my waist, holding me close as we start to sway to “We Danced” by Brad Paisley.
My eyes find his, and I raise my brow.
“I’ve been waiting for this all night,” he says, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I’m trying not to push you, Baylor, but I really wanted you in my arms out here on the dance floor.”
“I would have danced with you,” I tell him, my hands moving from where they were resting on his chest to lock behind his neck.
I gently run my fingers through his hair.
He closes his eyes at the touch. When they finally open, my breath stalls in my chest. His gaze is filled with a mixture of desire, need, and something that looks an awful lot like affection, something I refuse to accept as he stares back at me.
“I want all your dances, Baylor.”
“Well, it’s almost midnight, so you’re probably going to get your wish.” What I don’t say is that there’s not another man in this bar that could pull me away from him.
“Oh, tonight, they’re all mine,” he says, smirking. “I don’t care who I have to fight, but when I said all, I meant all, I mean tomorrow’s, next week’s, next year’s. I want all your dances to be mine.”
“You make it really hard for me to resist you.”
“Good,” he says, his hand on my back, pulling me a little closer.
There’s no space between our bodies. I’m not sure where he ends and I begin.
The song changes, this one a faster beat, but Macklin doesn’t pull away.
We keep swaying as if the beat is slow. I’m sure we look ridiculous, and my sisters are going to have a field day with this turn of events, but I don’t care.
This is where I want to be. In his arms, slow dancing to a fast song on New Year’s Eve.
One song bleeds into another, and my head ends up resting on his chest. We’re barely swaying to the music, but neither one of us seems to care.
We’re exactly where we want to be. The band announces it’s almost time to count down to the New Year, and I lift my head to find Macklin watching me intently.
Keeping one hand on my back, tethering me to him, the other cradles my cheek. “I really want to kiss you.”
“Are you asking for permission?”
That earns me a smile. “I guess I am. I promised you I’d go at your pace.”
“It’s just a kiss, right?”
He shakes his head. “No, baby. It’ll never be ‘just’ anything where you and I are concerned.”
The crowd starts to count down, and I hold his stare.
Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.
My heart is thundering in my chest.
Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
I rise onto my toes and press my mouth to his. He groans and immediately takes control, his tongue tracing my lips, and I open for him. His hand that’s pressed against my back tightens on the sweater I’m wearing, and this time, it’s me who groans.
I lose all track of time. It could be seconds or minutes, even hours, as he kisses me like I’m the air he needs to breathe.
It’s not just him. I’m a full participant.
I won’t lie and say I haven’t wondered what kissing him would be like these last few weeks.
Hell, thirteen-year-old me is dancing around my bedroom, hugging my pillow right now.
I never expected his lips against mine to be a life-altering experience, but here we are. I know without a shadow of a doubt that this kiss changes things. It’s changed me, and that’s scary because I lost my heart to a man who didn’t take care of it. I don’t think I can live through that again.
His lips against mine send a quiet warmth through me. It’s calm and electric at the same time. It’s as if my body knows him as I lean in closer, begging for more. His tongue slides against mine, and I’m fisting his shirt, holding him next to me, afraid this kiss will end. Afraid to lose the moment.
Everything around us disappears. The cheers, the music, they’re silent. They don’t matter. All that matters is Macklin and this kiss. This moment between us. The intensity of it makes my chest feel full in a way it’s never been.
I know that heartbreak is a part of life, but with Macklin, that pain would ruin me.
“Fuck,” he rasps, slowing the kiss and resting his forehead against mine. “Happy New Year, baby.”
I melt into him. “Happy New Year,” I rasp, because that kiss stole all my oxygen. In the middle of the chaos of celebrating the New Year, his lips against mine, the taste of him on my tongue, it grips me as if it’s the only thing real in my life in months, if not years.
Three months ago, the plan for New Year’s Eve was some corporate dinner that Todd’s firm was holding. I hated those events. They were too stuffy, too many entitled assholes.
This… tonight, it’s like a dream come true, and Macklin, well, he makes everything better.