Just One Spark (7 page)

A woman could never be satisfied with an answer to that question. “I’m thirty-two, Hannah. I’m hardly a virgin.”

She looked away and huffed. “Yeah, I could tell.”

“Now that’s a cheap shot. I’m trying to figure this out and you’re being rude.” What happened to his sweet, soft Hannah, and how was he supposed to get rid if this suspicious, abrasive version?

“And calling me insecure was
so
nice.” She lay her head against her knees.

His stomach clenched with the realization he’d hurt her with those words. She looked so innocent and small curled on his couch, trying to get a grip on what she felt.

“I’m sorry if it hurt you. It was an observation, not a dig.” He felt the pain and fear radiating from her, warning him to tread carefully instead of react to her barbs. “You’re so confident about everything, I never expected you to be intimidated by anything.”

She took in two deep breaths, seeming to prepare herself for something. “You are only the third man I’ve ever been with, Mason.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “And I haven’t been with anyone in a year and a half. My hormones overruled my head last night. You probably think I do that kind of thing all the time, but I never have. And I doubt I’ll ever be able to pull it off again.”

“I figured,” he said, inching closer to her.

“What? How?” she asked her eyes wide.

“Your reaction this morning was a dead giveaway, but I knew last night.” Kneeling beside her, he rubbed his fingers across the toes peeking from below her robe. “You turned off all the lights and sometimes your hands were shaking.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together until they were white. “And I thought I was embarrassed before.”

“Hannah, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re every man’s fantasy. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed last night.”

“I wanted it more than you did,” she admitted, relaxing her grip on her knees.

“I don’t think that’s humanly possible.” He smiled up at her.

She let out a long, sad sigh. “I just wish we knew each other better. I don’t even know your middle name.”

“What?” He laughed.

“It’s a girl thing. You want to know about the man you’re sleeping with, even his middle name.”

“So if you knew more about me you’d feel better?” As she nodded, he began to have some hope his horniness last night hadn’t ruined everything. “Okay, twenty questions. The only rule is you can’t ask me anything you won’t answer yourself.”

“Twenty questions?”

He didn’t have much more faith in it than she did, but it was all that came to mind. “Yes, and we can start with middle names. Mine’s Mason, what’s yours?”

“What?”

“Mason is my middle name.”

“What’s your first name then?”

“You have to play by the rules, Hannah,” he said climbing onto the couch next to her. “You answer my question and then you get to ask one of your own.”

“Fine, but you better not laugh. It’s Faye. Now what is your first name?” She smiled.

“Hannah Faye, I like it. But you can’t laugh either. It was my grandfather’s name and he died while my mom was pregnant, so I got stuck with it.” He paused for effect and then whispered, “Francis.” He smiled as she winced.

“It doesn’t fit you at all.”

“That’s because it’s not my name, it’s his. Where did yours come from?”

“Are you sure you want to use one of your questions?” Her grin came back in full as she turned to face him on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. “I didn’t ask for that little history lesson, so it doesn’t count towards mine.”

He didn’t know whether to shake his head or nod. “Are you always going to beat me at my own game?”

“Plan on it.”

Tension evaporated off her body as they talked. Maybe she hadn’t been a complete idiot to sleep with Mason. As he let her peek beneath his made-for-sin exterior, she realized he was actually very sweet.

He could’ve tossed her aside like yesterday’s trash both for her vamp imitation last night and her attack of conscience this morning. But he had stayed the course, made her a delicious breakfast and offered to play twenty questions just to make her feel better. With that and his stellar performance in bed last night, a girl needed to be careful or she’d find herself in way too deep.

“My turn,” Mason said, extending their game that should’ve ended fifteen questions ago. “Have you ever been engaged?”

“Why is it all of your questions are about relationships and mine are about personal history?”

“Relationships are personal history.” He somehow made a shrug seem confident. “You want me to go first?”

She didn’t want to know about the women he’d been with before but nodded anyway.

“Never. Never even needed to say I love you.”

Hannah had only heard I love you from a man who clearly hadn’t, a jerk who’d used the phrase just to get her to sleep with him. She swallowed hard, hoping that wasn’t happening again. She wanted more from Mason, more than casual, more than sexual blackmail.

She’d been so touched when Marty had confessed his love. She hadn’t loved him, but she’d always wanted someone to be as devoted to her as he seemed. Too bad the snake had been incapable of truth.

“Where did you just go?” Mason asked, dancing his fingers lazily across her arm.

“I’ve never been engaged either.” She ignored his question with what she hoped was a carefree smile. It wasn’t a lie. When Dalton had decided they should get married, she’d insisted they sleep together first. Bland and boring, and yet she’d still clung to it for a while, hoping it would get better. Until he’d started using her sex drive against her, withholding sex unless she did what he wanted, making her feel lewd and trashy.

When she ended it, her parents had been furious. “Good girls don’t spread themselves around, Hannah.” And so she used kisses as a barometer when she dated. If she felt nothing, there was no need to take it further anyway.

If only she’d kept it that way. There was nothing when Marty had kissed her either and the sex had been only marginally better. But she’d stuck with it because of the way he’d pursued her. He’d supported every career move, even new store openings that had taken her out of state for months at a time. How convenient for him.

“And my second question? Where did you go just now?”

“It’s not your turn.” Hannah scrambled for a question good enough to distract him. “Where did you have your first kiss?”

“Hannah, come on, what was that about?” His deep-blue gaze pinned her to the couch as he wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

“You don’t like my question? I thought you wanted to talk about relationships.” She didn’t want him to know how easily she’d been fooled, how easily he might take advantage of her.

“Fine. Seventh grade, Denise London, Spin the Bottle, she bit me.”

“She bit you?” Hannah stifled a giggle.

“Your turn,” he said without smiling, blinking or releasing his grip.

She squirmed beneath the pressure. “It was my sophomore year, Nathan Brady, touchdown at the football game Friday night. My sister told my folks and I ended up grounded for two weeks.”

“Why?”

“I was only fifteen. We weren’t allowed to date until we were sixteen. Nice girls don’t kiss boys they aren’t dating, so I was busted by default.”

“That’s harsh. Now it’s my turn.”

“You just had your turn. You asked me why.”

Mason pulled on her wrist, yanking her forward to within an inch of him. “Tell me where you went when I asked you if you’ve been engaged.”

His eyes were so intent they had a steely quality. He wasn’t going to let it go, and she wasn’t going there. “I need to shower and get ready for work.”

“When the game is over.”

“Mason. The game ended about twenty questions ago.” She tried to pull away but he held firm. “Let it go or I shower alone.”

“What?” he asked, releasing her immediately.

“You do have a shower, don’t you?” Hannah asked, standing and willing her hands not to shake as she extended one to him. She could do this. If Mason liked sex half as much as she did, she’d use it against him too. He’d forget all about her little lapse, and she’d forget everything for a moment.

Hannah watched Mason’s eyes as he studied her, weighing her proposition. She wondered if this was what her eyes did that he liked so much. She wasn’t sure she liked it. It looked like he might say no.

Without dropping her gaze or taking her hand, Mason rose from the couch, gave her a dastardly grin and dropped his boxers.

She thought he was magnificent last night, but some things were even better in the light. Standing there in all his glory, she couldn’t help but lick her lips. Her hand instinctively went to the source of her pleasure, but he caught her wrist.

“Your turn.” His voice vibrated through her.

He released her hand and she met his dare and dropped her robe to the floor. His gaze centered on the white cotton panties she’d slipped on this morning.

“I love the way you tease me.” He stepped towards her, picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

“Mason!” she giggled, bouncing against his back as he carried her to the bathroom.

Chapter Seven

“Hannah? Are you in there?”

She froze mid-step. Behind her on the staircase, Mason wrapped his arm around her waist to keep from knocking her down.

“Do you know him?” he whispered in her ear, his wet hair cold against her temple.

She nodded, not wanting to speak. Wanting nothing more than to sink into the floor right now.

“Who?” Mason asked without moving.

“It’s my brother-in-law. Maybe he’ll go away.” She swallowed hard, listening for retreating footsteps. Instead, she jumped, hearing her phone ringing inside her apartment.

“It must be important,” Mason whispered.

“He’s going to know what we were doing.” She hated the whining sound in her voice.

“We’re adults, Hannah.” She heard his jaw grinding as he whispered in her ear. “But I’ll go back upstairs if you want.”

That might spare her a few lectures since Troy knew she hadn’t been seeing anyone. She turned and ran her hands up the fire department sweatshirt he’d put on after the most athletic shower of her life.

“It’s sweet of you to offer, but it still wouldn’t explain my wet hair and bathrobe.”

“Or lack of panties,” he whispered naughtily in her ear.

She kissed him gently, savoring the different feel of his upper lip since he shaved. “Fast forward,” she whispered to herself as she turned, took Mason’s hand and made her way to her own front door. She’d already slept with him, so maybe it wasn’t too early to start introducing him to the family.

“Is there a problem, Troy?” Hannah asked, fishing her keys from the pocket of her robe.

Troy stared openmouthed at them. Quickly, Hannah opened the door and ushered both men inside. She’d given her neighbors enough to talk about already.

Closing the door behind her, she made introductions. “Troy, I don’t mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?”

“Molly’s worried about you. You haven’t returned her calls. She wanted to come herself, but I told her I’d check in.”

It had only been three days since she talked to Molly. She hadn’t had an inquisition about her date with Mason. She barely knew what was going on and she didn’t care to explain it to anyone else.

“Molly’s a worrier. I’m fine.” Hannah wished Troy would stop looking at Mason as if he’d done something wrong. Troy was four years younger than her. She didn’t need him pulling the protective-older-brother act.

“Why is...? Where were…?” Troy stuttered, his hands flying about.

“I live upstairs,” Mason stated, as if it would answer anything.

Apparently, it did, because Troy started to nod furiously. “Hannah, can I talk to you for a second, privately?”

“No.” Hannah walked to the door and opened it. No way was she giving Troy an opportunity to lecture her. “Tell Molly I’ll call her tomorrow.”

Troy narrowed his eyes as he shuffled towards the door, kicking a red envelope straight into Hannah’s foot.

She picked it up, her mouth going dry as she realized it wasn’t addressed.

Time slowed as Mason crossed the room, removed it from her hand and opened it to view a picture of red velvet bra and panty set, trimmed in white fur like Mrs. Claus gone bad. Mason shoved the card back in the envelope with a curse.

“You okay?” he asked, wrapping his arm around her.

Hannah squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “It could be nothing, Mason.” Probably a neighbor annoyed by all the noise they made last night.

“I still don’t like it,” he said as she shrugged him off.

“What?” Troy demanded from the doorway.

“A kinky neighbor has slipped cards under my door a couple of times,” she said, watching Troy’s eyes focus on Mason. “Not him,” she said, dismissing the notion with a wave of her hand.

“Hannah, I need to talk to you alone.” Troy grabbed her arm.

“Don’t touch her,” Mason said with an edge to his voice she hadn’t heard before.

She shook off Troy’s grasp and stepped between the men. “I need to get ready for work.”

“When did you get the other cards?” Troy asked, unmoved.

“One showed up on Wednesday sometime. It’s probably nothing.”

“Wasn’t Wednesday the night you went out with him?” Troy spouted, his face reddening.

“Troy, I’m not in the mood.” She wanted the last ten minutes to be erased from her life forever.

“Hannah, what are you thinking?” Troy said shaking his head. “Use your brain. You can’t be this stupid again.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Mason said, stepping out from behind her. “You want to talk to her that’s one thing, but you don’t insult her in her own home. I don’t care if you are family.”

She threw her hands up in the air and stepped out from between the two men towering over her. “You two feel free to take this outside. I’m going to go get dressed.”

She tried to listen as she went through the motions of getting ready for work. She didn’t hear anything breaking. But she didn’t hear the yelling she’d expected either.

Her pinstriped black suit and heels made her feel much more authoritative and in control than she’d been barefoot and naked beneath her bathrobe. She knew the cards were nothing, but she’d call the building manager anyway and see if he had any ideas. And it would give Mason an incentive to start sleeping over.

As she emerged from the hallway, she found Troy alone in the apartment. “Where’s Mason?” she asked, not bothering to hide her hurt that he’d leave without saying goodbye.

“Why are you so sure it’s not him?” Troy asked from his perch on the sofa. “He could be trying to scare you so he could play the hero.”

This one was easy. “Each time a card had shown up he’s been with me.”

“Maybe he’s having someone else deliver them.”

She saw where this train of thought led and cut him off. “Troy, this is not your problem. Hasn’t your annoying buddy Derek vouched for his brother?”

“If it isn’t him… When did you last hear from Marty?”

“What? Why?” Hannah asked, her stomach sinking.

“He was really angry when I told his wife what he’d been up to. Then again, Mason mentioned some creep from work was eyeing you. Do you think it’s him?”

“Where is Mason?” she asked again, not wanting to create a list of suspects for a crime that consisted of spending too much time at Hallmark.

As if on cue, Mason appeared in the open doorway with a box. He began pressing some kind of tape to her doorframe.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he continued to play with her doorway as if she’d given him permission.

“Making sure that little chicken shit doesn’t slide anything under the door anymore.” Mason replied without looking at her, so her annoyed expression never registered.

“With what?” Troy asked, crossing to the doorway. The two men were oblivious to her presence, focused on solving the problem, not on her.

“I’m fireproofing it.” Mason’s eyes never moved from his task. “When the door is closed it will seal so tight an envelope won’t fit through.”

I do not have time for this, whatever it is.
“I’ll leave you two to bond. Lock up when you leave. You never know who might wander in without being asked.”

“I always thought you were crazy, Dad,” Mason said to the long, jean-clad legs sticking out from beneath the black GTO. The car had been in the garage for at least fifteen years and he’d never even heard the engine run.

“You all have at one point,” Mac McNally said, sliding out from beneath the car. His hands and shirt were clean, as if he lay beneath the car for fun. “Why am I crazy today?”

“I don’t think you are. I think you must be a genius.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, kid. You still have to help me move the table out before you leave. Grab me a beer will you?” Mac got up slowly and grabbed a rag and canister of wax off his workbench.

Mason carefully maneuvered the cans from the too-full fridge. With just over a week until Thanksgiving, the man-fridge in the McNally garage had been taken over for the festivities. It gave him a little pang of regret that he’d miss so much of it.

He handed the can to his father and popped open his own. “I need some advice.”

“From me? You never listen to me. This has got to be good.” Mac chuckled. “I’d call your mom in, but she’s taken Rianna to the mall for portraits again.”

“No, for this I actually need you. How did you get Mom to marry you after just three days without freaking her out?” He took a long slow drink, shoring up his courage before meeting his father’s gaze.

Mac gave a shrug then leveled his gaze at his middle son. “Your mother doesn’t scare easy. Is she Catholic?”

Mason rolled his eyes. “Come on, did Mom ask you that?”

“With a name like McNally she didn’t have to. What’s her last name?”

Thank God, Hannah had handed him her mail. “Daniels.”

“No help there. You’ll have to ask her,” Mac said with a nod.

Mason shook his head. “That doesn’t matter to me, Dad.”

“It should.” He punctuated his statement with a long drink.

“Really? When did you last go to Mass?”

“Your mother goes for me,” Mac said, polishing an imaginary spot on the car. “How long have you known this girl?”

“I first met her a couple of weeks ago, but we had a misunderstanding.” Mason didn’t want to go into the particulars. His dad wouldn’t be any happier he’d agreed to Derek’s experiment than Hannah had been. “I found her again last week.”

Mac spun around, leaving the rag on the car. “Is this the girl Derek went out with?”

Derek and his big mouth. “They did not go out, Dad. They met for coffee so we could explain about the misunderstanding.”

“That’s not how Derek told the story. He said they were having coffee, minding his own business, and you waltzed in and kissed the girl all the way out the door.”

Mason had to laugh at Derek’s theatrics. He gave in and filled his father in on the facts of the story, from their first meeting to their first date. “I knew that first time I saw her, Dad, that’s why I couldn’t stand knowing what she thought of me. I always thought you and Mom were crazy to get married so quickly, but now I get it. You just know.”

“We both knew, Mason,” Mac said with a sympathetic smile. “It sounds like your girl isn’t so sure. You could be wrong about this.”

“I’m not.” He shook his head emphatically. He had no doubts, not after last night. “I just don’t want to spook her. Everything is moving a little fast for her and she hasn’t figured out we’re more than casual yet.”

“Then slow it down. There’s no need to try and end the race if there’s no finish line. If you’re sure, bring her for Thanksgiving.”

Mason nodded. He wasn’t even off until seven thirty on Thanksgiving. By the time he got out here most of the family would be drunk on tryptophan and champagne and probably having one of their famous hands-free pie-eating contests. Not the best first impression for Hannah.

“There is something else I wanted to ask you about.” Mason handed his father the two cards, explaining they’d been slipped under Hannah’s door. His dad had seen everything in his thirty years on the police force. Maybe he could give some insight into the problem.

Mac handed them back and looked Mason in the eye. “Unsigned cards are pretty benign. She’s probably okay as long as it sticks to cards.” Mac changed his expression. “Could she be doing it?”

“No, why would she do that?” Mason asked with a laugh. The last card hadn’t been there when they’d left and he hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

“Sometimes people invent things for attention, or to be saved.”

“She’s not. Her brother-in-law actually thinks I’m doing it. He was there when we got the card this morning, which is weird. He said he was checking in because her sister was worried, but I’d never just show up at Ryan and Tara’s. I don’t know. Derek’s friends with him, but it was still strange timing.”

“If you wanted to be a detective you should have joined the force like your brothers.”

He shook his head at the argument he’d been having for the last ten years. The argument his youngest brother, Tyler, was currently embroiled in. So far, only two of the five McNally boys joined the force. Mac always planned on a clean sweep. “Hannah thinks it’s a neighbor because you need a code to get into the building.”

“Where you also live, which is why the brother-in-law suspects you.”

“Right, but he got in and he doesn’t live there. Plus, there’s this guy she works with who is an absolute ass.”

“There’s not a lot you can do with just a couple of cards, Mason. If there are any messages on them, have one of your brothers look into it.”

He couldn’t just sit on his hands and wait for something to happen to her. He’d been looking for this woman his entire life. He wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that. Even her.

Hannah loved her job. From the moment she walked in the door until she turned the key to lock up, she hadn’t obsessed about Mason or Troy or the damn cards. With so much to get done before she spent the next few days leading the motivational seminars, she hadn’t allowed herself a single self-indulgent thought.

She didn’t have time for any now either. She needed to get on the train, get home and get some sleep. She had to unlock the same door in just six hours.

She sighed as she fell in step behind a group of women who also took the train and checked her watch. Seven minutes until the train would arrive, forty-one until she made her station. She should’ve taken Mason up on his offer of a ride home, but she hadn’t wanted to encourage this protective streak he was nurturing. She wasn’t some damsel in distress. She could take care of herself.

She surveyed the parking lot as they made their way across to the park-and-ride terminal. It emptied quickly as her staff made their way home. Getting a new car might save her some time, but taking the train made financial sense. Gas, insurance and paying to park a car downtown was too expensive to be practical. She’d much rather save her money and get some work done on the train anyway.

The click from her heels echoed in her ears as she tightened her coat around her. She looked up, checking to make sure all the parking-lot lights were on. It just seemed so dark. She pulled the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder and quickened her pace to keep step with the group in front of her. Damn those cards—they were making her paranoid.