leg,” she said, crouching in front of him.
He fought the dirty urge to comment on the convenience of her position. Instead, he bent at the waist and pulled his jeans up to reveal an inch-long cut on his shin. Blood matted the dark hair and trickled down in a little river toward his shoe.
Liv scoffed and looked up with a curl of her lips. “This is what you’ve been carrying on about?”
“Look how much blood there is.”
“It’s a scratch. God, be a man.”
“That,” he said, pointing in her face, “is the second sexist comment you’ve made since I got here.”
“What was the first?”
“When you made fun of my manicure.”
Her eyes went round. “If you throw your money away on manicures, you deserve to be ridiculed.”
“I don’t get manicures, but so what if I did? Men can get manicures if they want.”
“Never said they couldn’t. I think anyone who wastes money on manicures should be ridiculed.”
It was an interesting tidbit that Mack filed away for further examination later. For now, he’d just change the subject. “What’s up with Hop? He a cop?”
“Retired state detective and a Vietnam vet. I wouldn’t fuck with him if I were you.”
“He doesn’t seem like Rosie’s type.”
“Oh, they’re not together.” She laughed, and it was the first genuine sound of affection he’d ever heard her make. He kind of liked it. “He helps out here, and I’m pretty sure he’s been in love with her since high school, but no, they’re not together.”
She poured cold liquid onto his cut, and Mack yelped. “Jesus, what the hell are you doing?”
“Cleaning the wound.”
“With what? Hydrochloric acid?”
“Peroxide, pansy-ass.”
“There you go again, questioning my manhood. I’ll have you know that it is a scientific fact that men have a lower threshold for pain—Jesus Christ!” She’d poured another capful of the vile liquid on his wound. “Was that really necessary?”
“Absolutely.” She stood. “I needed to test your scientific theory. Turns out you’re right.”
“It stings,” he pouted.
“Here,” she said, handing him a square bandage. “Come out when you’re done, or better yet, don’t.”
Mack let that one slide. He taped the bandage over his wound, washed his hands, and then walked back into the kitchen. Liv was setting the table in the attached dining room.
“Want some help?” he asked.
Rosie answered. “You just sit and make yourself comfortable. Liv, get him something to drink.”
He sat down in one of the open chairs with a grin.
“What do you want?” Liv practically growled.
“Water is just fine.” He winked at her, and she bared her teeth.
Hop wandered in then, hair wet and clothes fresh as if he’d just showered. “I’m having a beer,” he said pointedly as if to say that’s what real men do.
“Well, if you are, then so am I.”
Hop nudged Liv away from the fridge, grabbed two bottles of Budweiser, and sat down opposite Mack.
“Where are you from?” Hop asked, shoving a bottle across the table.
“Des Moines.”
Liv looked up quickly from the island, where she was sorting silverware. “Really?”
“Yeah, why?”
She shrugged. “You don’t seem like the Iowa type.”
“Family?” Hop prodded.
Mack stiffened, which did not go unnoticed by Hop. The man lifted a single eyebrow.
“My mom still lives in Des Moines, but she’s moving here soon. I’m buying her a house.”
“And your father?” Hop asked, eagle-eyed.
“Dead,” Mack gave the familiar lie.
“I didn’t know that,” Liv said, and he glanced over at the softness in her tone. “I’m sorry.”
Mack shrugged to cover the shame. He felt guilty about her sympathy but not enough to tell her the truth. The truth was worse. “It was a long time ago.”
Ten minutes later, dinner was served. Liv sat in one of the chairs across from him, and Rosie and Hop claimed the other two ends.
“Gorgeous place you got here, Rosie,” Mack said.
Liv rolled her eyes and shoved the bread basket into his hands.
“Been in my family since 1870,” Rosie said. “Both my grandfather and my mother were born right upstairs.”
“No kidding?” Mack said. “And where were you born?”
“A coven in the woods,” Hop said.
“You can eat out with the goats if you want,” Rosie told him.
“Don’t mind her,” Hop told Mack. “She’s just pissed the Equal Rights Amendment was never adopted.”
“One more state. That’s all we needed.”
Mack was beginning to understand why Liv lived here. This was pure entertainment.
“So you and Livvie are dating?” Rosie asked.
Water sprayed from Liv’s mouth. “God no.”
“That’s too bad. It’s been a long time since Liv had a man.”
“Rosie,” Liv whined.
Mack grinned again. “Is that right?”
Liv sat up straight. “I don’t want a man.