What
had he said to Emma last night? Something about people not noticing her. He had
said it offhand, without thinking, but he now realized that it had been cruel.
And wrong. People noticed. He wasn’t entirely sure that he would have been so
missed if Emma had shown up last night without him.
He
couldn’t pursue her unless he was sure. Sure that he wanted her in his life,
sure that he wouldn’t actively kick her out the second she got past his
defenses. Until then, he needed to leave her alone. As much as he wanted her,
physically, he needed to back away.
“You
sure you’re up for this?” Emma asked with some trepidation as they pulled up in
front of her parents’ house.
Mason
turned to look at her, puzzled. “How bad can it be?”
Emma
looked worried. “Um. Could be bad. You married their daughter without asking
their permission,” she pointed out. “Six months ago. This is the first time
that you’ve bothered to meet them. So yeah, expect a few fireworks.”
Mason
chuckled. “Well, I brought flowers for your mom. And candy for your Gran.”
“She
will love that. Not as much as a bottle of scotch, but still. And for Dad?” she
asked, just to toy with him.
“Emma,”
he said with a warning tone.
She
grinned. “Just kidding. Look. Just weather it. They’ll likely get in a dig or
two, but you can take it.”
“Isn’t
your Gran on my side?”
“I
don’t know. She’s probably mad at you for holding me to Jen’s contract, but she
knows that this is an important night. I think she’ll be on good behavior.”
“We
should have brought Chaos.”
“Maybe.
But this way if we need to run for the hills, we don’t need to find the dog
first.”
“He’d
be easy to find. He’d be in the kitchen.”
Emma
laughed. “You know him well. You ready?”
“Will
Jen be here tonight?”
“Nope.
She and I talked about it. Decided it was better for her to make other plans.
It’ll just be you, me, Mom, Dad, and Gran.”
“Anything
else I should know, other than to expect unconditional animosity?”
The
corners of Emma's mouth turned up slightly. “Nope. They’re nice people, Mason.
They just expected more from me is all,” she admitted.
“Do
they think we’re madly in love?”
“Gran
doesn’t. She knows the whole story,” Emma confessed. “And don’t look at me like
that. It was the only way to get an ally in the family, and Gran likes knowing
stuff nobody else knows. She’s an excellent keeper of secrets.”
“And
your mom and dad?”
“I
don’t know what they think. But yeah, probably that I fell head over heels and
you suckered me into marrying you.”
“Suckered...?”
“They
don’t know anything about you. They may think you’re a drug dealer or
something.”
Mason
sighed. “Couldn’t you have prepped them just a bit?”
“Nah.
More fun this way.”
“For
who?”
“Me
and Gran. OK,” she said as she saw the front door open. “Showtime.”
Helping
Emma from the car, he reached into the back and grabbed the gifts he’d brought
for Emma’s mother and grandmother, then offered his arm to his wife. His wife,
he thought. He didn’t often think of Emma that way, but he had to admit that it
had a nice ring to it.
She
took his arm, smiled up at him, and together they headed up the walk to the
front stoop of her parents home. Her father was standing in the doorway, her
mother right behind him peeking over his shoulder. When they got to the top of
the steps, Emma immediately performed the introductions.
“Mom,
Dad, this is Mason,” she said.
“So
you’re the man who swiped my daughter,” her father said, eyeing Mason with a
mixture of suspicion and distrust.
Mason
just nodded. “I did. I’d apologize,” he added, “but I’m not really sorry.”
Her
father seemed initially taken aback by that comment, but then his eyes narrowed
as he realized that Mason was complimenting his daughter.
Emma’s
mother spoke up from around her husband. “Come on in Mason. We’re glad to
finally meet you.”
He
smiled then. “And that I do apologize for. I should have been here much sooner
than this. But between getting Emma settled in, and work, and figuring out how
to dog and cat-proof the house, and...”
Her
father spoke up again, sternly. “You should have made the time, son.”
Mason
agreed. “You’re right. But I’m glad to be here now. Mrs. Jameson, these are for
you,” he added, holding out the flowers he’d purchased earlier.
She
reached for them with a smile. “They’re lovely, Mason. Come in. Please. Emma,
put these in water?”
Emma
took them from her mother and moved around her parents, stopping to kiss them
each on the cheek. “Sure, Mom.” Over her shoulder, she added, “Mason, that’s
Gran over there, hovering over the martini glass. Gran, this is Mason.”
“Well,
you’re even hunkier in person than in the papers. Come on over here and let me
have a look at you,” her grandmother commanded, peering at him through her
glasses.
Emma
rolled her eyes. “Gran, leave him alone. He’s already a bit unnerved by all of
you.”
“Fine,”
the old woman huffed. “Mason, can I offer you a martini?”
“Take
her up on it,” Emma called from the kitchen. “You’ll need the alcohol in your
system. Trust me.”
“I’d
love one,” Mason said to Gran, handing her the box of chocolates. “These are
for you. Emma says that you have a sweet tooth. Or two.”
She
grinned in delight. “Emma is right. And thank you.”
“So
Mason. Tell us about yourself.”
Emma
rolled her eyes. The interrogation was beginning. Mason was right, they should
have brought Chaos.
By
the time dinner was served, Mason had charmed her mother, talked her father
down from killing him, and even managed to get in a few spirited jabs at her
grandmother, which completely endeared him to her. Emma wasn’t sure if the
evening was going to be a success or not, but at least nobody was going to end
up in the emergency room tonight.
As
dinner was winding down, and Emma was just starting to think that they’d made
it through the evening unscathed, her mother looked over the table at Mason,
and asked, “So, Mason. How did you and Emma meet?”
Mason
looked up in startled surprise, his eyes flicking over to Emma. “You never told
them?” he asked, hoping she’d pick up on his code for HELP.
She
shrugged. “Not really. I just told them that Jen introduced us.”
“Well,
looks like you have a lot to thank her for,” her mother said to Emma, pointedly
looking over at Mason. Emma glanced over at her grandmother, who was taking a
healthy sip of her martini in an attempt to smother her laughter.
“So
Mason,” Gran said, leaping in to rescue her granddaughter, who looked ready to
spit rocks. “Tell us about adjusting to life with Emma. She can’t be easy to
get used to, especially with Chaos around all the time.”
Emma
rolled her eyes. So much for rescuing her granddaughter, she thought. This
night was not turning out as she expected.
But
Mason, gentleman that he was, was saying incredibly kind things. He was talking
about Chaos, about Max, about her obvious love for animals. He was telling them
about how lucky he was to come home to her cooking. About how Malcolm adored
her.... Listening to him, she felt... cared for. She couldn’t go so far as
saying loved, but Mason was talking about her as if he admired her. Liked her.
Was glad she was in his life. Gazing at him over the rim of her own martini
glass, she smiled slightly.
Her
parents were flummoxed. She realized that she had never had anyone talk about
her this way. Everyone, always, talked about her in conversations punctuated by
laughter and eye rolls, saying, ‘oh that’s just Emma’ to any implied criticism,
but this man was showing her family how much he valued her. And they had
absolutely no idea how to respond.
“Well,”
Gran said when Mason stopped talking and just smiled lovingly over at Emma.
“Who wants dessert?”
An
hour later, Emma crawled back into the car next to Mason, and turned to face
him. “Holy crap,” she said. “That was absolutely amazing.”
He
just looked over at her, puzzled. “What?”
“What
you did in there. I don’t think I've ever seen my family speechless.”
He
shrugged. “They take you for granted, Emma. They love you, but they don’t have
any idea who you are.”
“Except
Gran,” Emma said quietly.
But
Mason shook his head as he turned the key in the ignition. “No, even Gran. She
loves you, maybe even with more voracious strength than your parents, but she’s
also fallen into the habit of laughing at your antics. You’re more than that,
Emma. You know that, right?”
She
just looked at him.
“How
often do they ask about your work?” he asked, checking in the mirror and
pulling out into the street.
“Um.
My Dad does. Sometimes.” Emma replied, trying to think of the last time they’d
really talked about a case she was working on.
“And
how often do they ask your opinion of something serious?”
“Oh,
not very often. We usually talk about Chaos, or people we know. But that’s just
the way my family is.”
“What
about Jen?”
“What
about her?”
“How
do they treat her when she’s home?”
Emma
shrugged. “They usually ask lots of questions. About where she’s been, who
she’s met.”
“Exactly.
They undervalue you.”
“They
see me all the time. They don’t really need to know where I’ve been or who I’ve
met - they probably already know.”
“Emma.”
She
sighed. “Yeah, maybe. OK. Probably. But they love me.”
“They
do, Em. They really do. But they need to see you through a different lens
sometimes.”
“And
that’s you?”
He
smiled slightly. “For now.”
“OK.
I can live with that.”
“Good.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand as he drove them home. “Do you think Max
has destroyed the house?”
“I
locked him in my room.”
“I
let him out before we left.”
Emma
shook her head. “Oh, you poor misguided man.”
After
that night, Emma felt a little more comfortable in Mason’s presence again. She
still knew when he was home, even if she didn't hear him come in, just because
she could sense him. And she still avoided spending a lot of time with him, but
the tension between them had dissipated. So when Mason knocked on her bedroom
door one evening and told her that he’d like her to accompany him to a charity
event that coming weekend, she just nodded.
“OK.
Formal?”
“Not
black tie. A cocktail dress is fine.”
She
sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “Can I get away with something I’ve
worn before?” she asked.
He
looked down at her, lounging in a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, and fought
back the sudden want that consumed him. Even in such casual clothes, she drew
him in. When he raised his eyes to hers, she was startled at the need she saw
reflected in them. She took a step back, drawing in a breath. He closed his
eyes, willing himself to stay where he was, even as he wanted to pull her
toward him, close his mouth over hers, and drag her to her bed.
“I
don’t think so, Emma,” he said at last, his voice huskier than usual. “Many of
the same people will be there from previous events. And it’s rather a big deal.
I’m sorry, but I think you’ll need a new dress.”
She
forced her eyes away, looking down at her bare feet, poking out from under her
pants. “If I wear black, maybe they won’t notice.”
Mason
reached out gently and lifted her face until she was looking him in the eye.
“Emma, they’ll notice. I was wrong when I said before that nobody would. People
watch you closely. They like you. They miss you when you’re not there. And I’m
willing to bet that many people watch to see what you wear, and then copy your
style.”
Emma
shook her head, even though her chin was still in Mason’s grip. “I don’t think
so, Mason. My style is what you see on me right now. It’s not what I wear to
events. But I don’t want to embarrass you. I’ll shop this week.”
He
let her go with a gentle caress. “Emma, I’ll deposit some funds in your
checking account this week. You’ve been spending a lot of money on your
clothes, and that’s because of me.”