All Over You by Sarah Mayberry

Grace’s in the process. Since when had her couches gotten so small? And why was she still so turned on by this man when he’d had her every way but hanging off the light fixtures last night? Surely some of his appeal should have worn off by now?
    “It’s a nice idea. In practice, it never seems to go the distance,” Mac said.
    Grace stared at him, surprised to hear him echoing her personal sentiments so exactly.
    “Absolutely,” she said. “It’s all very well at the beginning when it’s just about not being able to keep your hands off each other —”
    “But then the daily grind sets in,” Mac finished for her.
    “And before you know it, you’re shredding your ex’s suits and putting sugar in his gas tank,” Grace said.
    “Or filing for a restraining order to stop the stalking,” Mac added.
    “Wow. Inspiring. Shouldn’t you two be out telling preschoolers there’s no Santa Claus?” Dylan asked.
    Grace realized she and Mac were grinning at each other. She gave herself a mental slap reminding herself that this charming, gorgeous, grinning hunk was the same man who’d dumped her so inelegantly this morning, hours after crawling out of her bed. She hadn’t been looking for anything from him, but there was such a thing as respect.
    Grace returned her attention to her friends. “Live and let live, Dylan. You and Sadie are in love, and Mac and I are like those two grumpy old men in the balcony on
The Muppets
.”
    “Statler and Waldorf,” Mac murmured helpfully.
    “Thank you,” she said, making the mistake of glancing at him and getting lost in his amazing eyes again.
    While she had turned away, Sadie had wriggled along the couch and was now looping her legs over Dylan’s knees. Toeing her sandals off and wiggling her toes with a forlorn expression on her face, she batted her eyelids at her fiancé.
    “Please?” she begged.
    Dylan shook his head adamantly. “No way.”
    “Just a little rub. I’d do it for you,” Sadie said.
    “Would you? At the end of a long, hot L.A. day, you’d put your pristine, lovely hands on my hot, smelly feet?” Dylan said.
    Sadie pouted, looking utterly adorable and undeniable.
    Grace wasn’t the only person to think so. Out of the corner of her eye, she was aware of Mac watching her friend, and Dylan soon sighed heavily and put down his coffee cup.
    “Now
this
is love,” he said, smiling into Sadie’s eyes as he picked up her left foot and started to massage.
    That quickly, the yearning-heart, stomach-punch thing from the café hit Grace again. She ducked her head for a second and blinked like crazy fighting out-of-nowhere tears.
    What was it with these guys and chest pain? Was it possible to be allergic to other people’s happiness?
    God, how miserable did that make her?
    Suddenly, she became powerfully aware of the warmth of Mac’s body pressing against her side and the sound of his low voice as he said something to Dylan. The odd discomfort she’d felt earlier about how cozy and domestic this little scene was came back in earnest.
    What was she doing sitting beside Mac Harrison playing happy couples with Sadie and Dylan? Especially given what had happened between her and Mac last night and this morning?
    Before she knew it, she was on her feet.
    “I’d better get that wallet for you,” she said.
    Mac looked startled, as though he’d forgotten why he’d come in the first place.
    “Right, of course,” he said, following suit and standing.
    Grace went into her bedroom and grabbed his wallet from her handbag. He was saying his goodbyes to Sadie and Dylan when she returned to the living room, then he led the way up the hallway to her front door.
    Handing the wallet over, she crossed her arms over her chest.
    “There you go,” she said briskly.
    “Thanks. And thanks for the coffee and cake.”
    “Humph,” she said, already pushing the door shut.
    “You make that cake yourself?” he asked.
    She frowned. What the hell was he playing at?
    “I sew,