Much later, we’re out in the garden in loungers that Mack set up side-by-side, enjoying the last bit of sunshine of the day.
When he suddenly leans over and tickles me on my side, I drop my book and tip out of my seat. The only reason I don’t hit the ground is because of Mack’s shifter speed. Not that I care in the least, I’m laughing far too hard to care about stopping my fall.
“Oh wow,” Mack murmurs once he’s tucked me in the lounger beside him. “I didn’t think you’d be that ticklish.”
When his fingers return to my side, I slap them away. “Stop it,” I gasp between giggles. “No, I’m not.”
Although he raises an eyebrow at my barefaced lie, he doesn’t tickle me again, just wraps his arms around me.
“How’s your ankle?” Mack asks once my breathing has returned to normal.
I wriggle it. I
