Mack jogged to keep up. “Wait. We need to talk about this.”
“No, we don’t.” She picked up the pace and stomped to his car. He beeped it unlocked and held open her door for her. She slid in without a word.
He got behind the wheel and looked at her. “Liv.”
“Just drive.”
With a muttered curse, he pushed the ignition button and jammed it into drive. Silence reigned for ten full minutes before he finally caught his breath.
He glanced over. “We should get you checked out. You were hit pretty hard.”
“So were you.”
“I’m fine.”
“So am I.”
“Dammit, Liv. I’m trying to apologize.”
She snorted. “For what?”
“For . . . what I did. Kissing you like that. Without permission.”
She ran a hand over her hair. “I was an enthusiastic participant, Mack. Don’t get your guilt panties in a wad.”
“Liv—”
She held up her hand. “Enough. Just drive me to my car.”
She’d met him at Temple, and her car was parked behind the bar in the employee lot. He pulled in and killed the engine. Neither of them moved.
“Can we please talk about this?”
Liv opened her door, got out, and then bent down to look back in. “Ask Noah if he can figure out how the goons found us.”
She slammed the door shut and left. What the fuck had just happened?
And how many times was she going to leave him alone with that question?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
This was a bad day to discover she was out of foundation.
Liv peered into the bathroom mirror the next morning and tilted her face into the light. Nope. Not a trick of shadows. She had a bona fide black eye. Concealer hid the worst of it, but anyone who looked at her directly would know she’d either been in a fight or had gotten the worst sleep ever last night.
Actually, both were true thanks to Mack. Christ, that man could kiss. Not that she was surprised. He probably had enough experience to write a how-to manual. Of course, she wasn’t sure which step in the instructions would include leap off her like you’ve been electrocuted and shudder as if you need a shower. If she’d built a shield of armor around herself over the years, his reaction was why. She should’ve been used to disappointment and the sting of rejection, but she wasn’t. That was a fresh wound over an old scar.
Didn’t matter. Kissing Mack had been a mistake. An adrenaline-fueled clash of libido and bad decisions. It would not be happening again, and that was that.
Liv blasted her curls with a hair dryer, twisted them into a bun, and then distracted herself before breakfast by paying bills. The number left over in her bank account was enough to make her stomach clench. She needed to spend a few hours today sending out more résumés and kissing ass on LinkedIn. The only place that had responded so far was the Parkway. She had an interview next week, and she figured she only had Alexis to thank for that.
On that happy note, Liv slipped into her farm boots and did her chicken chores. She tried to hide her face when she walked into the house a few minutes later, but Rosie saw everything.
“I hope there’s an interesting story there.”
“Define interesting.”
“Sex injury?”
“Sorry. Bar fight.” Liv started washing the eggs she’d gathered. “Want help with breakfast?”
“I pay you to tend to the animals and the garden—”
“Not to cook,” Liv finished, smiling.
The bang of the back door interrupted her. Moments later, Hop wandered in. He took one look at Liv and scowled. “What happened to you?”
“Cage fight. The money’s good.”
“Where are you going all dressed up?” Rosie asked him.
Liv looked up. He was dressed up, at least by Hop’s standards. His jeans had no stains, and his shirt had actual buttons down the front.
“None of your business,” Hop said. The door banged shut again.
Liv sighed. “Why don’t you put him out of his misery?”
Rosie pulled a knife from the drawer. “Because murder is illegal.”
“I meant go out with him. Life would be a lot better for everyone around here. You know you want to.”
“What the hell do I need a man for? I have a hand, don’t I?”
“That is way more information than I need, Rosie. Seriously. I was talking about dinner.”
“Who are you to lecture me anyway?” Rosie said, her words broken up by the slice of her knife through potatoes. “Have you started sleeping with Mack yet?”
“Never going to happen.” Her libido made a sad face at her words.