Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“I’m serious. Don’t act like an idiot, okay? You’ll regret it.”
“What are you even saying right now?”
“I’m saying, she’s special, Mack. So don’t fuck it up.”
First, the billionaires, and now, my sister? What’s with all these people getting so bent out of shape over me and Katy?
“Jeez, Liz. How much alcohol did you drink tonight?”
She scoffs. “Whatever. Don’t listen to me. But you’re going to regret it when you let her get away and then realize you’ve been in love with her the whole time.”
I scrub a hand down my face and exhale a deep breath. “I think you’re putting the cart before the horse here, sis.”
She pokes me in the chest. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” She pinches my cheeks again. “Love you, baby bro. Thanks for watching Gracie.”
Before I can even respond, she’s offering a wave goodbye over her shoulder and scooting out my door at lightning speed.
I walk back into my living room where Katy is still sound asleep on my couch, my giant sweats hanging comically off her tiny frame.
It’s so fucking sexy.
Her hair fans out across the pillow and a soft little snore escapes her lungs every other breath, so I tuck in close to press my body to hers and fall fast asleep.
And my dreams? Well, their setting looks dangerously like a wedding.
Saturday, April 9th
Katy
Dressed in only Mack’s oversized sweatshirt, I walk out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, where I find him standing behind the island, flipping pancakes in a skillet.
The sweatpants got too hot while I was sleeping, but I would’ve put on underwear, had I given myself the option last night.
“You’re making breakfast?” I ask, and he looks up from the stove to meet my eyes.
His brilliant smile nearly knocks me on my ass. “If I’m not, this sure is an interesting way of doing something else.” I smile. “Want some pancakes?”
“My stomach is already growling at the smell of them.” I snort and hop onto one of the barstools on the opposite side of the island.
“Hold up,” he says, and a little frown makes his mouth crease down at the corners. “What are you doing?”
“Sitting down?”
“Without coming over here and giving Big Mack a kiss first?” He shakes his head. “Get over here, Katy Cat. Give me some sugar.”
“Oh my God, you’re so cheesy.”
“And kiss-less.”
When I don’t make a move to get up, he sets his spatula down and raises both of his hands in the air. “These pancakes are relying on you, babe. The longer you hold out on the kiss, the more likely they are to burn.”
“You can’t be serious,” I huff.
“Only you can save them from their fiery torture.”
On another huff, I slowly push myself off the barstool and walk over toward him on purposefully heavy feet. Once we’re mere inches from each other, I stare up into his green eyes and purse my lips. “You don’t think you’re being a little dramatic here?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head, and strands of his hair shuffle across his forehead. “Now, give me that sweetness,” he adds and taps his cheek again.
I stand up on my tippy-toes to press my lips to his skin, but he surprises a squeal out of me when he wraps his arms around me and lifts me up and into his arms via his big, strong hands on my bare ass.
I don’t even have the ability to complain because his mouth covers mine in a slow but sweet kiss.
“You’re a little trickster,” I say against his lips, and he squeezes my ass as his chuckle vibrates against my chest.
“And I have zero regrets about it,” he says. “How else would I have proof that you’re still panty-less?”
He kisses me again, deeper this time, and I fold like a deck of cards. My lips match his lips’ movement, and my tongue eagerly entwines with his.
By the time he sets me down on the counter, a safe distance away from the hot stove, I’m a little out of breath and a lot horny.
“Thank you,” he says and picks the spatula back up. “Now, I can finish these pancakes.”
I roll my eyes at him, but I also giggle too.
“So…I guess I kind of passed out last night, huh?” I ask, once he manages to move three fully cooked pancakes over to a plate and adds more batter to the skillet.
“Both you and Gracie fell asleep on the couch halfway through the movie.”
“I don’t even remember going from the couch to your bed.”
He winks at me. “That’s because I carried you in.”
“Seriously?” I question. “You should’ve just woken me up.”
“And missed all that adorable snoring? Hell no.”
“I don’t snore,” I retort, and he points the spatula at me.
“You snore, babe, but it’s a cute snore. A soft little snore like a kitten.”
“I swear, if you start calling me Katy Kitten, I’ll slap you.”