Chapter 18

I’m alone with Dean,and all I want is to feel his lips on mine or, even better, his hands on my body. Smiling to myself, I perch on top of the kitchen table, fluff my hair, stick my chest out, and smile in Dean’s direction.

“Dean.”

He turns and nearly drops the plate in his hands. “Mack,” he croaks. “What—” He coughs, gulps, puts the plate to one side, and very slowly walks over to me. “You are causing havoc with my intentions, Mack. You know that?” Dean leans a breath away from my lips and places his hands on my hips.

I reach up to run my hands through his disheveled hair, then smile when I feel a shudder work its way through him.

“Mack.” He breathes heavily as his mouth covers mine hungrily. He forces my lips open with his exploring tongue, holding me in place while he devours the softness of my mouth.

I moan and tingle, wanting more as I wrap my legs around Dean’s waist, pulling him against the ache between my legs.

“I’m not doing this,” Dean pants, his lips still warm and moist from our kiss.

“Doing what?” I reply, innocently, while I burn with desire, an aching need, for another kiss.

Dean groans. “You know I want you, Mack, but I want to take things slow. I want to spend time with you.”

“This is spending time with me,” I interrupt with a pout.

Dean untangles himself and steps away, resting his back against the kitchen sink as he stares at me.

“You. Are. Lethal. I have no intention of going anywhere so we are going to spend time together…without sex getting in the way.” Dean laughs at the look on my face. “For now, that is.” I’m glad he added the latter, but I’m still not happy to stop.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yep.” He crosses his arms over his chest and waits me out.

“Oh, all right then. What do you want to do?” His eyes flare at her question, which I catch and snicker. “Just remember exactly whose idea it was to put a stop to the hanky-panky.”

“I won’t forget. Let’s grab our jackets and climb on the Harley.”

* * *

After we spentthe morning driving along coastal roads, we arrived home to sounds of laughter coming from the direction of the beach. Dean takes my hand and leads me down the short path to the beach.

I smile, sliding my hand out from Dean’s, I move in closer, wrapping my arm around his waist as Dean drapes his arm around my shoulders.

“You feel good against me, Mack.”

“I know,” I smirk.

“Dean!” Lucas shouts before the Frisbee clonks Dean on the head.

I burst out laughing as Dean takes off running after a laughing Lucas, who ends up falling over because he’s giggling so much.

“Stop. Stop. Stop.”

“Are you sorry?” Dean asks him while they both wrestle in the sand.

“It wasn’t me.”

Dean freezes. “Are you telling me that you didn’t throw the Frisbee at my head?”

Lucas nods and points toward Thomas.

Dean glances at Mack who is openly laughing. He stands, brushing the sand off his jeans, and then starts walking toward Thomas with Lucas running behind him screaming for Thomas to run.

Before Dean can get to Thomas, Lucas tackles him from behind, which sends them both sprawling in the sand.

Dean can’t hold his laughter in anymore and grabbing Lucas, gives him a quick tickle, and then gets them both upright.

“Lucas, I wasn’t about to tackle Thomas to the sand.”

Lucas looks from Dean to Thomas. “You weren’t?”

“No, but I did think we could have some fun and maybe get Thomas to sit over there, while you bury his feet in the sand for letting me think it was you with the Frisbee.”

“Hmm, I think I like that idea. I need some ants.”

I hold my laughter but when I look at Thomas I can’t anymore and I join Dean and Lucas with my own chuckle. “The sand will be enough…this time,” Dean tells Lucas with a wink.

“Oh, all right.”

Dean pulls me into his arms as we watches Lucas take hold of Thomas’s hand. It’s so sweet watching the little boy take the older man to the place Dean had suggested. Thomas laughs as he sits down and watches Lucas bury his feet.

“They’re really going to miss each other when we go back to Boston.”

“We’re not too far away in Boston. It’s only a couple of hours, we can bring him back to visit,” Dean replies, grinning when I realize he’d said ‘we’.

I kiss him quickly on his lips and snuggle into his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

“Thought you might,” he mumbles sitting on a large rock with me in his arms. “I love watching them two together.”

I chuckle. “They’re a right pair and I’m sure that Thomas still has the mischievous little boy still inside of him.”

“Some of us never grow up Mack,” Dean whispers, “and I think I’ll let you discover whether or not I did.”

Mack turns in his arms and after placing a tender kiss to his cheek, rests her head against his chest, and admits, “I don’t care either way, Dean.”