Livvy had been watching Netflix for about three hours straight, and she couldn’t have told anyone what she’d heard or seen if offered a million dollars. She’d fielded calls from her mom wishing her a happy Thanksgiving, another from Felicity, who got to hear the whole sob story, then a third call from Slade. That one she let go to voicemail.
Slade’s voice had sounded exasperated in his message: “Hey, I’m leaving the hospital and wanted to see if you can talk through some things. I don’t know exactly what happened on the drive back from my parents, but I can assure you that you’re not at the bottom of my list. Oh, hang on. I’ll call you right ba—”
His message had cut off, and Livvy had laughed, then she’d cried. Then she’d texted Slade: What part of Do Not Call Me do you not understand? We’re done talking. I wish you all the best in your future. If I ever get admitted to the hospital, I’ll say hi.
So maybe that last sentence had been unnecessary. But it had felt good. She’d turned down Felicity’s offer of hanging out. Livvy needed to wallow by herself. Besides, Felicity had to get up early for Black Friday sales at the bookshop. And Livvy was planning on watching Netflix until she dropped off to sleep on the couch.
She was in a half-stupor, binge-watching numbness when Mason’s name lit up the screen of her phone. Livvy shot to her feet and stared down at her phone. Surprise, curiosity, hope, and nerves all collided inside her heart. Why was he calling her? Maybe he was leaving Pine Valley and was giving her the courtesy of saying goodbye? Or . . .
She picked up the phone. “Hello?” Her voice sounded too high, too breathless.
“You answered,” Mason said.
Livvy brought a hand to her heart and closed her eyes. Just hearing his voice made her hurt all over again. “Did you want to leave a message? I can hang up and—”
“No.” Mason’s voice was low. “I was worried about you.”
She puffed out a breath and sank onto the couch. “What are you worrying about?”
“I can’t exactly pinpoint it,” he said. “It’s just a feeling.”
Livvy blinked against the burning in her eyes. “You should be focusing on your book and everything you have going on. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Yeah, that’s what I keep telling myself,” Mason said. “But then somehow I ended up calling you.”
She smiled although she felt more like crying. “How was your pizza?”
“About as good as frozen pizza can get, although I wasn’t all that hungry.”
“I wasn’t hungry for dinner either.” Livvy pulled her feet up on the couch and tucked them under a crocheted throw that Mallory had made. “It’s kind of hard to enjoy a meal when everyone is watching you, assessing you, even judging you.”
“I’m sure Slade’s sister was friendly,” Mason deadpanned.
A laugh burst out of Livvy, and she kept laughing until she was practically crying.
Mason laughed with her.
When Livvy could finally breathe normally, she said, “I dodged a bullet there.”
“You mean you aren’t besties planning on going Black Friday shopping tomorrow?” Mason asked, his voice teasing, but Livvy sensed the question there.
“That will never happen,” she said, her tone sober. “I broke up with Slade.”
Mason didn’t say anything for a minute. When he spoke, his words made her smile. “Do you need some words of consolation?”
“Not unless you want to give them,” she said.
“I think my words of consolation would be more along the lines of ‘I’m sorry it took you so long to dump the bas—’”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Livvy said with a laugh. “You’ve definitely never held back your opinion of him.”
She could imagine Mason smirking.
“Are you all right, Livvy?” he asked.
Goose bumps broke out on Livvy’s skin at the concern and gentleness in his tone. “Your phone call is helping.”
“I can bring you some pie,” Mason said. “I’ve heard that eating rich desserts can ease the pains of the heart.”
“Oh really?” she teased. “You don’t like turkey, but you like pie?”
“I’d be an idiot not to like pie.” He paused. “I can drop it off on your porch if you don’t want to see me.”
Livvy’s pulse hummed. “Answer me this one question, Mason... even if you sort of hate me right now, what did you like about me when, you know, we were hanging out?”
There was no hesitation when he spoke. “I don’t think I could ever hate you, Livvy Harmon. And I like a million things about you. Like how you are nosy and how you ask prying questions and how you won’t take no for an answer.”
She smiled.
“I like the way your hair curls and how you always smell like cinnamon,” he said. “I like how you’ve read all of my books and force me to talk about my current manuscript. I like how you’ve seemed to cure my writer’s block.”
Livvy’s skin heated. “You can’t give me credit for that.”
“I’m not finished,” Mason said, a smile in his tone. “I like watching you run the library, being equally bossy and helpful at the same time. And I like that you still seem to have no idea how to dress properly for winter weather.”
She laughed. “I just avoid being outside.”
“But mostly I like the way you kiss me.”
Livvy’s heart skipped a beat. “That’s a lot of likes,” she said in a soft voice. “Maybe you should bring that pie over.”
“See you soon.” Mason hung up.
Livvy stared at the phone a few seconds, her mind reeling. When she’d asked Slade what he liked about her, he had told her one thing—her eyes. But when she’d asked Mason... She jumped up from the couch. He was coming over. Now.
She straightened up the room, folded the crocheted blanket, fixed the throw pillows, then took her tea mug to the kitchen. She did the few dishes there and wiped down the counters. Then she hurried to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She checked the time. It had been eight minutes, and her face was a blotchy mess.
She scrubbed her face, then reapplied some mascara and added lip gloss. Next she went into her bedroom and changed out of her yoga pants into jeans and a V-neck sweater. She didn’t want to be too dressed up, but she didn’t want to look like she’d been bingeing on Netflix for three hours. She was still in the bedroom when a knock sounded at the front door.
Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.
Mason was here. And she hoped this meant things between them could be... good again? Friendly? He’d still be leaving Pine Valley, and she’d have to deal with that at some point. But at least she didn’t have two men hating her tonight. Slade she could deal with, but she didn’t want Mason hurt.
Livvy smoothed back her hair. It was too late to do anything with it. She walked to the front door, glancing at the living room. She grabbed the remote and clicked off the TV. Then she reached for the doorknob.
Sure enough, Mason Rowe was on her doorstep, a white box in his hands.
“You really do have pie,” Livvy said.
“You thought it was a ruse?” His gaze moved from her face to her sweater, then lower.
Livvy was glad she’d improved her appearance.
Mason wore a dark shirt layered with another thick flannel shirt. His jeans were the ripped ones she’d first seen him wearing at the library. He hadn’t shaved for a couple of days, and Livvy decided that she liked all versions of Mason.
“I believed you.” She pulled the door open wider. “You can come in, unless you’d rather leave the pie on the porch.”
Mason chuckled and walked into her house. His sleeve brushed against her arm, and she ignored the warm shiver that trailed up her skin. She shut the door, and before she could tell Mason where to take the pie, he’d walked into her kitchen.
“You must like yellow?” he observed.
Seeing Mason standing in her rather small, brightly painted kitchen was sort of amusing. He took
up most of the space, and the dark colors of his clothing made the yellow walls and painted white daisies look like a baby nursery.
“I do like yellow, if you must know.”
Mason’s blue eyes met hers; his were amused.
She took the pie box from his hands and set it on the kitchen table, then grabbed two forks. She handed him one.
He waved it off. “I’ve had enough pie.”
“So you’re just going to watch me eat?”
He nodded.
She opened the lid and found a half-eaten banana cream pie. She perched on the edge of the table and scooped out a forkful, then ate it. “Mmm. You got this from the café?”
“Dawson brought it over.” Mason leaned against the edge of the table so that they were only a few inches apart.
She turned, brushing against him to get another forkful. He was kind of in the way, but she wasn’t going to complain. “That was nice of Dawson,” she said, and ate another bite.
“I suppose it was, but Dawson also had an agenda.”
Livvy didn’t know if she liked the sound of that. Dawson had been the one to warn Mason away from her. Dawson and Slade went way back.
“He told me that you dumped Slade,” Mason said.
Livvy froze. “He did? How did he know?”
She listened as Mason told her everything Dawson had shared. At the end of it all, she said, “So... that’s why you called me?”
“Sort of.”
Livvy’s heart sank. Mason hadn’t called her because he couldn’t stand being apart from her. He’d called because he’d already known she’d broken up with Slade. Mason was only being a friend. She straightened from the table. It didn’t matter. Mason had been... a distraction. She had known that going in.
“That’s why I dared to call you,” Mason said, grasping her wrist and taking the fork out of her hand.
She met his blue gaze, but then she had to look away.
“I would have eventually called you, though,” he said in a quiet voice.
Her throat was so tight it hurt. “To say goodbye.”
Mason exhaled. He still hadn’t released her wrist, and now, with his other hand, he touched her chin and lifted it.
She blinked against the burning in her eyes and met his gaze.
“I would have eventually called you because as you know, I’m a worrier,” he said. “And apparently it’s too hard for me to stay away from you.”
Livvy didn’t know whether to kiss him or to cry. She released a trembling breath. “So now what?”
“You tell me,” Mason whispered, leaning down, his mouth inches from hers.
“I hope it takes you twenty years to finish your book,” she said.
Mason’s mouth curved, then he brushed his lips against hers.
The touch of his warm mouth sent darts of heat through her, and every part of her body ached to be near him. She gripped his shoulders and kissed him back. At last his arms were around her again, and she was right where she wanted to be.
Mason had become accustomed to every sound in the library. The slow hiss as the heater kicked on. The faint squeak of the front doors when they opened. The quiet rasp of the books as Livvy or Mallory replaced or organized the books on the shelves. The tapping of the keyboards at the reference computers. The rise and fall of the library patrons’ whispers.
So when he heard the soft tread of tennis shoes coming up behind him, he had no doubt that Livvy was trying to surprise him. That, and he could smell roast beef. She must have brought him lunch.
Before she could touch him or say a word, he reached his arm back and grabbed a leg.
Livvy yelped, and he laughed, then tugged her onto his lap.
Her smiling face came into view, and her arms slipped around his neck.
“How did you know it was me?” she whispered.
“I have very keen senses,” he said, taking the sack from her hand and setting it on the table behind her.
She gazed at him with those beautiful brown eyes of hers. Mason wanted to take twenty years to finish writing his book too, but in truth he was only a couple of chapters away from the final climax. Then it would be smooth sailing from there.
“Come here,” he whispered.
“We’re in the library.”
“That hasn’t stopped you before,” he said.
Livvy’s cheeks flushed pink, and she bent a little closer.
Mason tugged her the rest of the way and kissed those berry lips of hers. Her fingers moved into his hair, and he ran his hands up her back.
The front door to the library squeaked open, and Mason drew back. It would only be seconds before whoever had entered would be able to see the librarian sitting on his lap, kissing him.
Livvy seemed to realize this in the next moment and leapt from his lap.
Mason chuckled softly as she set the sack of food under the table, then brought her finger to her lips. “You can eat in the back room if you’d like,” she said, then moved away to see if whoever had entered the building needed any help.
Mason waited a few minutes, then he picked up the sack of food and carried it to the back room that doubled as a storage room and sort of office. A small fridge sat in the corner where Livvy kept drinks, so he grabbed a water bottle. He’d donate to the library fund later, or just bring in another case of water bottles. There was much to be desired in the cramped space, but Mason wasn’t all that picky. He’d rather write in this library, close to Livvy, than stay in the million-dollar rented cabin.
His thoughts turned to the cabin. It was now mid-December, which meant he had less than two weeks. He and Livvy hadn’t technically discussed his leaving date, and he knew they were both putting off that conversation. They should probably get it over with.
Would they try the long-distance thing for a while? Then let it fade?
“Hey you,” Livvy said, coming into the back room.
“This is great, thanks,” he said. “I saved some for you.”
She waved him off. “I ate my turkey sandwich.”
Mason grimaced.
“Are you ever going to tell me why you hate turkey?” she asked, walking toward him, then slipping her arms about his waist.
He looked into those warm brown eyes of hers. Eyes he trusted. Eyes he cared about. “It’s one of those long, sad stories.”
Her smile was soft. “I still want to hear it.”
“Okay,” he said. “Maybe tonight when you come over to my cabin and we’re in the hot tub together.”
Livvy laughed. “Sounds like a bribe.”
Mason winked. “As always, swimsuits are optional.”
He loved it when she blushed.
Mason leaned down and kissed her forehead. “As much as I love being distracted by you, I’ve got to get my pages in. You can eat the rest of that sandwich. It’s got some real meat in it.”
She smirked at him, and Mason was tempted to stay in the back room a little longer, but work called. He’d been bringing his laptop since Thanksgiving, and that had made the writing go much faster. There was no doubt that the transition had been due to Livvy calling him out on his superstitions.
She knew most of the plot by now, except for the climax and the ending. He didn’t even know the exact ending. With Livvy bringing him lunch, he’d be able to continue writing at the library longer—which was where he was the most productive. In the cabin, he found himself pacing the floors, staring at the towering pines, or giving in and watching football.
He sat back down to write, and the next two hours flew by, which was always a good sign.
A text pulled him out of his focus. He checked his phone to see that Dawson had texted. They’d had a few conversations, had even met for lunch one day, but this invitation was unexpected. Dawson had invited him to watch the bowl game at his place. The guys will all be coming.
It didn’t take much deduction to know that the guys included Slade.
Mason stared at the text for a few minutes. Dawson had told him that Slade
knew about him and Livvy, and so Mason wasn’t quite sure how hanging out in the same group would turn out. Would Slade be cool, friendly? Would they ignore each other? Would Slade say something stupid?
Mason exhaled. Although he was in Pine Valley for only a couple more weeks, he had nothing to hide. And Slade would just have to live with that.
Mason texted back: I can come for a little while. He wanted to also spend time with Livvy. Seeing her every day at the library was great and all, but he found that he liked spending evenings with her. No writing, no revising, just Livvy.
He returned to his laptop, figuring he could get in another hour of writing. His word count was seventy-six thousand, and while most of his books were eighty to ninety thousand words, he usually ended up fleshing out some scenes while he was in the second draft stage.
Pilot was in the process of turning his life around, although the demons were still hitting hard. His girlfriend, named Renee, was a lot like Livvy, Mason realized. Renee saw what needed to be done and did it. Even when it meant she put her own life at risk when she intercepted a drug deal.
“Hey, I’m off,” Livvy’s voice cut in.
Mason’s thoughts reverted from story world to library world.
Livvy looped her arms about his neck from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder.
Mason powered down his laptop.
“No fair you won’t let me read anything,” she said, her warm breath tickling his neck.
“Soon,” he said. “Only a few chapters to go.” He turned his head toward her, catching her cinnamon scent. Maybe he wouldn’t go to Dawson’s.
“Hey,” Livvy said. “I know you’re planning on telling me your long, sad story tonight, but Felicity wants some help decorating the bookshop. And she can only do it after hours.”
Mason nodded. “Sure, come over after that.” They’d pretty much established hanging out at the cabin as their choice of location. Mason had no roommates, and well, it was a nice cabin. “Dawson invited me to his place to watch the bowl game.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Mason didn’t really like the excitement in her voice. She was always encouraging him to get to know more people in Pine Valley. A way of getting him to maybe move here... on one hand, he was flattered; on the other hand, he did have a life in San Diego.
Until We Kissed (Pine Valley Book 6) Page 14
