“Nothing for the big man of the house today?”
Instantly red-faced again, Andie began stammering an explanation at the vendor as he bagged her purchases.
“I’m good,” Mason cut in, “but if you have another pair of the fuzzy ones in my beautiful lady’s size, I’ll take them, in r—” Shit. He almost told the guy what color to get. At least he’d stopped in time instead of nicking her old wounds again. “Is there another color you like, babe?”
“Red.” The appreciative smile she gave him shot straight to his heart. “I like the red ones.”
He wanted to kiss her so damn bad. Soon. He swallowed hard and nodded at the shopkeeper. “Red, if you’ve got it.”
The man winked and left them to rummage through his stock.
“Why?”
“To keep at my house. The floors are damn cold in the winter.”
“Mason…winter’s at least three months away.”
“Yeah. And?” The requested goods appeared on the desk in front of them. He slapped a bunch of twenties on top as payment. “You planning to dump me before the snow flies?” Even the salesman paused to hear her answer.
“Not if you’re buying me these wonderful ruby slippers, no.”
Most of the booths had closed for the day by the time they loaded a heap of bags into the backseat and hopped in the front of the truck. “The woman working the jewelry booth said the stores in the village are open later.”
“Would you be disappointed if we skip it?”
“Hell no. I’d rather be home, with you all to myself.” The smile she gave him was weak, and she followed it up by staring at the window while he drove. For ten long, silent minutes, her restless hands fiddled with her dress while she looked at the side of the expressway.
Then it clicked. “How about we go out dancing tonight? Or grab a bite and some drinks with friends?” Now that he had her attention again, he caught her hand and kissed each knuckle. “I’ve been monopolizing every minute of your free time. I don’t mind sharing you…a little.”
“You shouldn’t have bought me the slippers.”
Where the hell had that come from? Because he’d spent too much, or it was too practical to be romantic?
“It’s not going to work out—
us
—being a real couple.”
“Shit, is this the age thing again?”
“No, the single mom thing. You joke about sharing me with people, but after Dylan comes home, he’s the one that’ll have the monopoly. Our sleepovers, sexcapades, spontaneous day trips…they’ll only be an option when he’s at his dad’s. This time we’re spending together, it’s a fairytale for me. But a week from now my coach is going to turn into a pumpkin, and all of this,” she waved her hands around, “will cease to be my reality.”
The steering wheel squeaked under his clenched grip. “You’ve got a pretty low opinion of me.”
“What…I do not. I think you’re amazing.”
“To fuck. Or blow, or generally spread your legs for.” Yeah, it was crude and cruel. Too bad. “But I’m not capable of standing next to you while you tolerate your ex, or participating in your day-to-day life.” The jump from irritated to fully pissed off was a short one. “And I’m obviously nowhere near good enough to meet your son.”
“Oh my god, you’ve got it all wrong. I just didn’t think that you’d…when you could…” Her words came on sobs as she wiped at the corners of her eyes. “Why would you want to do any of those things?”
“Remember when I told you that I’m falling in love with you?” He took his eyes off the road long enough to see her nod. “Yeah, that’s why.”
“Okay,” she said, and dug her cell out of her purse.
That’s it? No apology, no kiss or cuddle? Not even a little stammering to show some remorse for judging him unfairly? He snorted. Of all the women he could’ve taken a header for, he’d found one who had shittier communication skills than he did. What were the odds?
“There.” The phone went back into her bag. “I emailed Scott. You are officially my boyfriend. After Scott cross-examines you and I get clearance, I’ll introduce you to Dylan.”
Maybe it was inappropriate, but he grinned. He hadn’t missed the hint of challenge in her voice. “Great. Looking forward to both of those meetings.”
“I have no doubt that Dylan will like you. You’re great, plus he’s been pushing for me to…get a life, as he puts it.” Up, down, up, down, went the zipper on her purse. “As for Scott…you can expect him to be a well-mannered asshole.”
“I can deal with that. If the tables were turned, I’d be an ill-mannered asshole, to say the least.”
She scooted over to the middle spot and leaned against his arm. “You’re so sweet.”
It took a sec for his brain to register the
lack
of sarcasm. He laughed so hard, actual tears almost rolled. “I say I’m falling in love with you—more than once—and you ignore it. I imply that I’d rough up any guy who had your affection when I didn’t and you call me sweet. You’re an unusual woman, Andie.”
His
unusual woman. A fact he couldn’t wait to rub in Scott Finch’s lawyer-smug face.
Chapter Fourteen
“Mmm, that’s nice…” Andie murmured when Mason’s fingers glided from her shoulder to her wrist, making a small pit stop to circle her nipple. “A girl could get used to this kind of wakeup call.” She shimmied closer to the hot mass of male behind her in the bed. Make that
hard
mass, or even more accurately, massively hard. She reached back to stroke his glorious erection. Now
that
was something she’d like to wake up to every morning.
His hand slid down to cup her sex, one finger testing and teasing. “How’s this for a wakeup call?”
“Even better.”
“Yeah? Let’s try the third option.”
She pouted audibly when he rolled away, making him chuckle. The nightstand drawer opened and closed. For a condom, obviously. They’d been vigilant since that one time. That one, mind-blowingly wonderful time when he moved inside her, skin-to-skin. The sheets crinkled as he slid between them again. His cock nestled against her ass. Her hips angled toward him involuntarily, a magnet to his steel. Awake less than five minutes and she was more than ready for him.
“Wake up, beautiful.” He breathed the words in her ear as his arm wrapped over top of her. Low buzzing followed a soft click and his hand settled between her legs once more, this time with an accessory.
“Oh…I like option number three.” She didn’t need to see it to know what he’d chosen from her toy box. The curved, black unit had been her go-to favorite for a long time, with good reason. Perfect fit against her clit, perfect amount of vibrations. Mason holding it against her body just made it more so. He found her hot spot easily. Slid the magic little machine into place and maneuvered it like a pro, immediately taking her to the edge. “Somebody’s been…ooh…taking notes…”
“Am I teacher’s pet?”
“Yes…” Little bursts of color flashed behind her eyelids. Sweat dampened her skin, yet goose bumps struck out all over. The need to come tugged urgently at her clit. Almost there…the edge was so close and she desperately wanted to dive over. “Inside me.
Now.
”
Fuck her right then he did, in one slick stroke.
“Sweet motherfucking Jesus.”
He barely moved, but it didn’t matter. The size of him, seated deep inside her—filling her, hitting that spot inside while he rocked the vibe back and forth across her hungry clit—was enough.
“Oh, god, that.
That…
” A swirling, tightening explosion hit inside and out. Merciless with the vibe, Mason held it against her body, forcing a second shuddering orgasm from her sensitive clit, leaving her squirming and barely able to catch her breath. He growled a mixture of curses and endearments while pushing deeper inside for his own release.
She grumbled softly when he pulled out soon after. Damn condoms. Watching him cross the room, though, not a bad thing. Honestly, he had the finest male butt she’d ever seen. Sure, she hadn’t seen many up close and for real, but she’d seen plenty in the sexy videos she liked to watch. Mason’s backside beat them all, hands down.
“Mmm…I want to go back to sleep, so you can give me that wakeup call again.”
“In that case, I’ll go throw back a few energy drinks while I make breakfast.”
“You spoil me. And you’ve got the best ass.”
“Back at you, babe. On both counts.”
She burrowed into the down pillows and warm sheets that smelled of Mason and sex. Spending a lazy Sunday in this bed with her now-official boyfriend—that was a plan she was on board with.
Her cell buzzed on the nightstand. Then again. A call, not a text or an email notification. At this time of day it could be only one of two people. She dragged herself to the edge of the bed and grabbed the phone. Scott’s cell number lit the display, but please, please, let it be Dylan’s voice on the other end of the call.
No such luck.
“I got your email,” Scott said, skipping the basic courtesies of hello, and so on.
“Good to know.”
“I think you’re rushing things, And.”
She grimaced at the shortening of her name. Bit her tongue and waited for the rest of the speech he’d likely practiced multiple times before making this call.
“Introducing our son to some man you’re dating will force Dylan to give up hope of reconciliation for his family.”
And there it was…the truth, veiled as concerned parenting. “Scott, we’re legally divorced. We’ve been apart for two years. Dylan’s old enough to understand what that means…he isn’t pining for us to get back together.” She squeezed her eyes shut and tried for her kindest, most understanding voice. “You should stop waiting for that too.”
Scott’s end of the line stayed silent long enough that she
almost
asked if he was still there. But this was Scott, a man who used silence to its calculated effect on a daily basis. Not on her, though. Not anymore.
“We’re cutting the cottage visit short,” Scott said after enough time had passed to dry a coat of paint. “There are important cases requiring my attention at the office, so I’ll be dropping Dylan at the house on Wednesday afternoon. Tell Mr. Lang I’ll be contacting him directly once I’m back in town.” Then it was dead air.
Nothing killed a blissful mood like interacting with Scott. Andie made her way to the kitchen, reaching it in time to see Mason—still naked, of course—scooping today’s breakfast concoction onto two plates. Beautiful sunshine filled the room. Mason was whistling to some song in his head. He spotted her standing in the doorway and quit making music to give her one of his sexiest smiles. A little bit of the bliss squeaked its way back into the day.
“You’ve got cold feet already?”
“What…no, not at all. I just wish we had the full week to ourselves before you meet Dylan and we test drive our real-life relationship. God, I feel like the most selfish, worst mother in the world for saying that.”
“Uh…” Mason’s looked from her face to her feet. “I meant, you’re wearing the sheepskin slippers…in July.”
“Oh. Yes.”
That
kind of cold feet. “I really like them, that’s all.”
“Good. I like seeing you wear them around here.” He signaled her to the chair he’d pulled out. Poured their coffee, kissed the side of her neck, then sat next to her. “Now what the hell were you talking about?”
“Scott called. He’s cutting this cottage trip short under the guise of work, but it’s really his way of being pissy about the email.”
“He doesn’t want you getting some with another man.”
“He didn’t want me getting some when I was with him.”
Mason nearly choked on his mouthful of food. “I can’t wait to meet your ex.”
“You can’t say anything…”
A big, warm hand landed on top of her fidgety one. “Babe, I won’t have to. It’s a given. People talk shit about their exes.”
“You don’t.” Aside from explaining his trust issues by telling her that his ex-fiancée lied about getting an abortion, Mason hadn’t said two words about the woman, good or bad.
He shrugged. “Neither do you, not really. But, the right expression on my face and he’ll
think
I know every complaint you ever had about him.”
“Tempting, but not a good idea. He might…retaliate…and involve Dylan.”
“Babe, don’t worry.” Strong fingers brushed her cheek softly. “Doctors can do blank faces as well as lawyers do.”
“Thank you.” If Scott thought Mason—or anybody—knew the intimate details of their marriage, he’d be infuriated. Maybe enough to become a jerk about Dylan. He could pull a few legal strings and take over primary custody…simply because he was embarrassed. A chance she couldn’t take.
“You gonna eat those eggs, or just organize them into rows of bite-sized piles and drive your fork around them?”
His
plate was empty. The man was a pit, but she’d bet he wasn’t really after her breakfast. Not by the tender smile that went all the way to his eyes.
Sure enough, she’d readied the food for easy feeding. An old habit brought to life by the recent rash of baby thoughts, most likely. “It’s been years, but let’s see if I’ve still got the knack.” She loaded one pile onto her fork and steered it toward Mason’s mouth. “Here it comes…open up for some nom-noms.” Like a good baby, he took the offering. “Yup. Works every time.”
He barely chewed before swallowing. Waggled his eyebrows and grinned. “Yeah? Then I’m using that line on you later.”
“It only works if you use a cutsie-wootsie voice.”
“No problem.”
The trouble with issuing that challenge was the images it conjured up. Mason, engaged in a one-sided conversation with an adorable infant. The deep, leathery voice that made her tingle all over would work soothing magic on a baby. One with blue eyes, like both parents had. Bad train of thought, bad. Her ovaries were humming just thinking about it.
“Later, when you use that line…” She shook her head to clear the fantasy away. “Skip the baby talk part.”
“You think I can’t do it? I’m good with babies. Kids love me.”
Oh god. So not helping with her ovary issue. They’d better double up on the condoms later. At this moment, her eggs were probably lying in wait, microscopic whips and handcuffs at the ready. Any escapee sperm didn’t stand a chance.