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continually straying toward to Mac and staying there. She’d been so turned on been when he’d mauled Wilson last week. He’d been so forceful and sexy while protecting her . Of course she’d gotten a rush seeing him in action. Any woman would, and Maggie happened to like muscles on a man.
    The practical side of Maggie reared its head, reminding her that she courted stupidity to work for a man like Mac when she didn’t actually need to. She had her fulltime job at the gallery. On top of that, her old gym missed her and continually asked when she might return. They had better hours and were closer to her home. So why didn’t she stop working her temporary job for Mac and focus more on her real career? How had she gotten in so deep with the aggravating man she wanted to punch as much as she wanted to kiss?
    She glanced at Shelby.
    Four months ago, she’d tried to help her idiotic best friend. Out to protect Shelby from making another mistake when it came to men, Maggie had taken a job at Mac’s gym. While trying to spy on Shane, she and Mac had conspired to get Shelby and Shane together.
    Over the course of Maggie’s time spent plotting, she’d started to actually like the man that put the word testosterone to shame. Mac stood a few inches over six feet, making him a giant next to her. He swore like the Marine he’d once been, yet he’d also charmed the ugly out of the nastiest woman at the gym with little effort. He had his share of fan-girls in leotards and short shorts. Big-breasted, slutty Megan thought Mac could do no wrong. And according to gossip, Mac definitely knew what to do between the sheets.
    Apparently he couldn’t hold down a relationship though, much to the chagrin of several female gym-goers who liked to stare at Mac and speculate. As much as she wanted to, Maggie couldn’t blame their interest. Mac fit every one of her ideal physical traits in a male. Tall, broad shouldered and thickly muscled, he had looks and charm—when he chose to use it. His square jaw framed an even grin that made her heart race whenever he flashed it. Bright blue eyes against tan skin contrasted with his thick black hair. He kept it short, and she had a constant urge to brush his bangs off his forehead, to touch him and see if—
    “I love this part.” Shelby knocked her in the arm, and Maggie watched as the end fight broke out in earnest.
    Oh, hell. I have to stop mooning over Mac Jameson. She got up to pour herself another drink as the credits rolled. Shelby joined her, and they argued the finer points of science fiction versus horror movies.
    Before she knew it, she and Shelby had finished off the pitcher of margaritas and started talking about men. Again.
    “And when I wanted to do something different, he met me halfway.” Shelby nodded happily and under her shirt, muscled out of her bra. “Sorry. But it’s been a long day, and I’ve earned it. I’m free-boobing.”
    A good idea. Maggie wanted to take hers off as well, except Shane would at some point return. Despite her supposed appeal to the opposite sex, Maggie had a hard time bearing her assets to the world.
    Shelby tossed her bra and sighed. “Much better. Oh man, Maggie, I am so gone for him. I have to remind myself to play hard to get, because I don’t want him to get bored. Sometimes I have a hard time believing I’m in a real relationship. We’re actually dating. I mean, I love him. Isn’t that weird?”
    Maggie snorted. “And we’re back to talking about Shane. Wait a minute. You said you have to remind yourself to play hard to get? You? The man smiles at you and you drop your pants like Pavlov’s dog.”
    “Huh? Dogs wear pants?”
    “I meant…never mind.” She wasn’t exactly sure what she meant. The margaritas were finally kicking in. “So what do you really think about Mac?”
    “Ha! I knew you were still thinking about him.” Shelby sounded a bit too rational, and Maggie realized she’d imbibed much more than her friend.
    She