“Aww, they’re having a girl.” I refilled my own mug too before I joined him at the island. “That’s smart thinking, though. In case they ever want to move back.” Besides, it wasn’t a crazy-long commute, and it could be nice for Katie to rest up in a quieter town after the birth. “I hope you won’t stop me from visiting. Frequently.”
Mason laughed under his breath and blew some steam from his beverage. “I don’t see that happening. What I do see happening is me coming over here to beg for your assistance. It’s been a while since I was around babies.”
I grinned and snatched up the honey. “I actually have a photo upstairs of you holding Tristan, but he was around three, I think.” I’d turned the wall between Aurora’s room and mine into our “family through time” space. If there was a baby or a toddler in the picture, it went up.
He hummed. “Fuck, that’s good coffee.” He took another sip before he set it down. “I miss having pictures everywhere. If only I knew a beautiful woman with a design degree…”
I let out a laugh at his rueful smirk. “I don’t think putting pictures on the wall requires a degree, but I’ll help you, you poor, helpless man.” I patted his hand.
He flipped his hand and caught mine, then brought it to his lips and kissed my knuckles firmly. “You can’t blame me for trying to find a hundred reasons to bring you closer.”
My humor faded, and I took an unsteady breath. He couldn’t say those things.
“Now I remember why I always heard internal warning bells when you were near,” I said.
He straightened in his seat but kept my hand in his on the island top. “You did, huh? That’s interesting, because I heard them too.”
I shook my head, refusing to go there, and felt the need to joke it off. “So, we agree. You’re dangerous.”
He studied me pensively and raked his teeth across his lip. Then he smiled faintly and nodded once. “We’re in agreement.” Then he gestured at the ice cream and rose from his seat. “I spied a comfortable-looking couch in your living room. Where do you keep your spoons?”
“I’ll get it. You go have a seat.” I left my stool too, and I welcomed the quick reprieve. Around this man, it was becoming abundantly clear that I had to stay on alert.
As Mason left the kitchen with our mugs, I noticed he was favoring his right leg.
“Are you okay, hon?” I had to ask.
“Hmm? Oh yeah.” He kept walking until I heard him grunt as he landed on the couch. “I chased down a wild girl yesterday and then remembered I’m not young anymore. I think I strained something.”
I slapped my hands over my face and grinned so hard my cheeks hurt.
Holy shit, I felt alive. I couldn’t describe it.
Releasing a breath and willing the giddiness to calm the fuck down, I readied a tray with two bowls, spoons, the ice cream, and some toppings. Then I headed into the living room where I found Mason inspecting my coffee table.
“What’s wrong with it?” he asked. “You said you didn’t like it.”
“It’s not a Mason Calvert Original, of course.” I set down the tray before I took a seat next to him. “I don’t know. Straight lines, no character. It doesn’t really go with the rest of the living room.”
He hummed and leaned back, draping his arm atop the cushions. “I don’t know if you can handle a Mason Calvert Original.”
I smirked and removed the lid from the ice cream. “I guess I can try to prove myself. I don’t want you to have any doubts. Would it require a lot of tender care?”
He grinned to himself and removed some lint from his T-shirt. “I’d say…a mix of reckless love and tender care, yes. They’re pretty sturdy and can handle a fair bit of cracks, but they’re not unbreakable. Best part—lifetime guarantee if you take care of it properly.”
Christ. He wasn’t just dangerous. He was downright lethal.
When he asked which of the dozen remotes would take him to Netflix, I guessed we were starting with a movie night. For the record, there were four remotes, and I used one of them to dim the lights.
“Cozy.” He got comfortable and started browsing the Netflix selection while I improvised two sundaes. I happened to know he loved fudge, whereas I was a strawberry girl. “I’m just gonna pick something. We won’t watch much of it.”
“That so?” Anticipation buzzed within me, and I handed him his bowl.
“That’s so,” he confirmed. “Damn, you don’t mess around. I’m gonna have to watch my sweet tooth.”
I laughed softly and settled comfortably next to him, folding my legs underneath me.
“What did you get?” He peered over at my ice cream. “Is that strawberry swirl?”
I held up a spoonful. “Wanna taste? It’s just preserves.”
He flashed me one of his wolfish looks. “I definitely wanna taste.”
Fucking hell.
He closed his lips around the spoon and hummed appreciatively.
“I’m in trouble with you, aren’t I?”
“I hope so.” He eased back and stirred the fudge into his ice cream. “When do you have work tomorrow?”
“Um, I start at nine with a Skype meeting, but I’m working from home till after lunch.”
“Excellent.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent a movie making out with someone.
Whoever said you couldn’t miss what you’d never had was wrong. I’d never had Mason before, but I’d missed him. He’d lived on the fringes of my life for over twenty years, and now it was like a lost part had been returned to me.
He tasted of coffee, vanilla, and fudge, and I was done with the slow, teasing kisses. I hiked a leg over his lap and straddled him, and it seemed to kick things up a notch for him. He palmed my ass and pulled me closer. I gasped when I felt him, rock hard and straining in his jeans, and I couldn’t help but swivel my hips over him.
He drew a ragged breath, then came at me again with much more ferocity. He kissed me hard, pushing his tongue against mine, and slipped a hand up my back, under my tee. With a flick of his fingers, he’d undone my bra.
I silenced my nerves and insecurities, hoping it was all in my head, and focused on him instead. I pulled up his own tee, and he didn’t waste any time. He yanked it over his head before throwing it somewhere behind him, and I started unbuttoning his jeans.
My God, he was a sexy man. Spending half his life in Arizona had given him a tan he couldn’t get here in Washington. His chest was sculpted for his age and solid, and his chest hair was soft underneath my fingers.
“You’re wearin’ too much, Lis.”
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
He chuckled huskily and grazed his teeth along my neck. “Take off your fucking top,” he whispered. “I’ll show you there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
I shivered at the level of command in his voice and got it over with. I pulled my top, and my bra, over my head, and that was that. And Mason did calm me down. Or, his reactions to me did. He threw me down on the couch and dove for my breasts. When I tried to speak, he slapped a hand over my mouth and said, “Don’t ruin this with words.” So, the hand stayed there, over my mouth, while he kissed, kneaded, sucked, rubbed, pinched, and nipped at me.