Finding Mayhem

by Layla Frost

“You don’t feel comfortable inside, you can chill at my place while you wait. I’ve got a helluva setup in my backyard. Or sit in your van. Doesn’t matter, I’ll be fast.” I was lost. Completely. I blinked up at him, trying to piece together what the hell he was talking about. “Fast with what?” “Unloading your van.” I jerked back in surprise even as a swirl of warmth twisted in my chest at his kind offer. Still, I couldn’t accept. “I’m already doing it.” “But you shouldn’t be.” The friendly warmth cooled to iciness, and I shot him a glacier glare. “I’m pregnant, not incapable. I can carry boxes.” Kind of. There wasn’t much in the van, but the drive had been harder than I’d expected. My arms and legs were tired, and muscles I hadn’t even known existed were sore just from sitting. But I had the rental for another day. I could take my time. “Never said you couldn’t,” he shot back. “Got nothing to do with you being pregnant.” “Then what?” “Just ’cause you can do something doesn’t mean you gotta.” He lifted his chin toward the house. “Go sit, Mama.” It was the second time he’d called me that, and the second time it’d sent a potent rush of far too many emotions twisting through me. The hormones did that enough, I couldn’t let him add to the havoc. “Mac,” I blurted before amending, “my name is Mac.” “Hollywood,” he bizarrely said. “Uh, Vegas?” At his grin, I felt my own mouth pulling into a matching one, albeit smaller. I couldn’t even remember the last time that’d happened without...