Page 260 of Mountain Men Heroes

I’d also managed to find a job. Mac argued with me a little bit about that, but I had made it clear, I had no intention of living in Hardwood indefinitely with no means of supporting myself.

Things might be good with Mac and I right now. That didn’t mean I was stupid enough to assume they’d stay that way. I needed to be sure I could take care of myself and my baby no matter what. And that meant gainful employment.

As it turned out, Hardwood had one tattoo shop and an empty seat needing filling.

I stopped in with a portfolio of my work. Plus, my tattoos—the hummingbird on the inside of my left wrist, the lotus flower on my shoulder, and an interwoven Celtic knot with a cross drawn in simple black on my hip. While I hadn’t done the actual tattoos, I’d painstakingly designed each one.

And the irony that I had a similar cross tattoo on my hip to the one on Mac’s shoulder didn’t escape my notice.

The shop owner hired me on the spot and was thankfully flexible about my hours.

And as far as things being good between Mac and I…things had been good between Mac and I. So good that if I were a different kind of person, I might even say great.

The first night had been weird. We had a late lunch of chili and brownies and then Mac took me into town and showed me around. When we returned to his house, we ate leftovers and as usual, since I’d gotten pregnant, exhaustion had hit me early in the evening.

And then Mac had asked me if I wanted to share his room or use his guest room. Everything in me jumped to life at the thought of sharing a bed with Mac. And seriously, we’d already been intimate. Obviously. It seemed a bit like closing the barn door.

But living with him in his house, having his baby—our relationship had changed completely from the one night only, no strings attached fling we’d both thought would be the beginning and end of our association. To something much more. I didn’t want to ruin things by going too fast, too soon.

So I’d opted for the guest room. And I’d been kicking myself in the ass ever since.

Because for the last month, living under the same roof as drool-worthy Mac Becker, sharing meals with him, making plans for our baby’s future together…everything about it felt right. Yet it was all hands off. At least on my part.

My days had fallen into a natural rhythm of work and taking care of the house. I didn’t spend too much time thinking about how taking care of the house meant taking care of Mac.

I’d even gotten to meet Mac’s friends and business partners—Sawyer, Dyson, and Eeli. And with the men came their women, Trinity and Clara.

Trinity and I had formed a fast friendship, something that never happened to me before. Being women among rugged mountain men and former soldiers and trying to fit into their world gave us an instant reason to bond. And if that wasn’t enough, I sensed Trinity had a past that was a lot like mine. We didn’t talk much about that, but just the fact she was as eager to leave the subject alone as I was spoke volumes.

Mac had also not given up on the idea of us sharing his bedroom. Or more accurately, his bed. He flirted, he touched, he caressed. He fucking drove me wild and then walked away with the biggest damn grin knowing he tortured me.

The persistent man found every opportunity to skim his hands over any inch of skin I left bare. Run his tongue over the pulse point just below my neck. Walk out of the shower, his hardon bouncing against his thigh only to stroke himself before slowly closing his bedroom door.

I shuddered just thinking of how it felt when he stood behind me in nothing but sweatpants last night, his hard cock teasing my ass all the while whispering dirty fantasies in my ear.

The man made it hard to resist him at every turn.

But I somehow managed to keep my legs closed and my hands to myself.

Like an idiot.

Which brought me to now. Lying on the bathroom floor, praying my stomach would stop its shenanigans so I could finish making dinner.

“Gabriella? You home?”

I groaned as Mac’s voice floated up the stairs. I’d come to love and hate hearing those words. Every time he said them, my heart leaped and my pulse started pounding.

My body also responded in other ways. My nipples always turned rock hard and the throb between my legs became so unbearable I had to press my legs together to try and snuff out the need for his hands and tongue there.

With each passing day, the deep soul-wrenching feelings he stirred inside me felt more and more true. Like I was home. That he was home.

When he’d returned last night he’d pulled me to the couch and we made out for two hours, our movie forgotten white noise in the background.

Kissing, touching, the heat of his body over mine. I couldn’t resist. He’d gone down on me and I had such a strong orgasm I felt my walls clenching even now, ready for seconds.

But I knew better than to settle into those feelings. The minute I let my guard down, I knew—I knew—something would happen and the rug would be pulled out from under me. Again.

Because I also knew that if Mac betrayed my trust, I might not be able to pick myself up again.