And dammit, she wasn’t tearing up talking about this!
Quickly swiping at her eyes, she looked back up at him. “Growing up, all I wanted was a dog. We couldn’t afford one and I swore once I moved out and lived on my own that I’d get one.” More tears stung at her eyes. “But it turns out I don’t have a place that’s really conducive to having a dog–no fenced-in yard, no real space in here–and so I do the volunteering as a way of not only helping the dogs, but also to help me.” She paused again. “Crazy, right?”
And then he moved toward her and didn’t stop until his arms were around her. He placed a soft kiss on her head. “It’s not crazy at all. If anything, it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.”
Scarlett snorted softly with disbelief even as she burrowed closer to him. “Please, it’s really not. I’m just doing what I can to help the people who truly are amazing.”
But he shook his head. “Nuh-uh. Don’t get me wrong–I think what they do is amazing too. But the way you make something so personal–something no one else can do? Scarlett, you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
“They’re just dog houses and playsets, Mason. It’s not like I’m giving them their forever homes or even the space they need.”
He pulled back slightly. “What do you mean?”
Now she was the one to pull away from his embrace before walking away and sitting on the plastic-covered sofa. “The couple who own the land–Christine and Ed–they need more space, more land. They want to build a kennel where they can house more animals and have more updated facilities. They get donations and I help them with their social media stuff but it’s a drop in the bucket. I wish I could find land for them or help them get financing or…I don’t know…anything!” She groaned. “I go there every week and I leave there wishing I could do more!”
Carefully, he stepped around the mess and came to sit beside her. Looking around the room again, he asked, “Did you make all the stuff in here?”
Ugh…can I be any less feminine?
“Uh…yeah. The coffee table, the console table, and those shelves,” she murmured, pointing to the wall. She wanted to hide in embarrassment because these were not girly hobbies at all. Add them to working on cars and riding a motorcycle and it was no wonder most guys didn’t look at her as a woman. She was one of the guys.
Except…when she turned and looked at Mason, he wasn’t looking at her like she was one of the guys; he was looking at her the exact same way he did on the night of the concert.
All heat and need.
And it turned her on now just like it did then.
“So um…yeah,” she repeated, hating the silence. “This is kind of my thing. I enjoy being creative and part of me wishes it wasn’t with stuff like this.”
Frowning, he asked, “Why?”
“Geez, Mason, look around you! This place is a freaking disaster! I’m a freaking disaster!” She held up her hands. “Look at me! My nails are short, my hands are splattered with paint, and these aren’t the hands of some…some…prissy little debutante!”
Okay, that last part was her own insecurities coming out and she cursed herself for letting it fly.
Grabbing her hands, Mason gave a small tug. “Has it ever occurred to you that no one gives a shit about whether or not you’re a…what did you call it? A prissy little debutante?”
When she tried to pull back, he only held her hands tighter.
“Here’s the thing, Scarlett, all of this–the mess, the paint, the crazy talent? That’s what makes you who you are and who you are is incredible! You’re intimidating as hell but you know what? It just adds to the appeal of who you are!”
This time when she pulled her hands, he let go. Standing up, she paced a few feet away from him. “You don’t get it and honestly, I don’t expect you to.”
“What is there to get? I’m here because I wanted to see you,” he stated, coming to his feet. “And I wanted to see you because I like you and I want to spend time with you and get to know you more.”
What was wrong with him? Didn’t he see how ridiculous this whole thing was?
“Mason, look at us,” she said calmly while internally panicking. Motioning to his entire body, she went on. “You’re all dressed up in your fancy clothes and your polished shoes, and not one hair out of place.”
“Scarlett…”
“And look at me,” she continued, ignoring his attempts to stop her. “I’m wearing three-year-old yoga pants, a wife-beater, no makeup, and my hair’s a damn mess.”
“The messy bun is a thing,” he said teasingly, but she wasn’t amused.
“I don’t even think I showered today so…just stop. Please. It’s…” She stopped and let out a long breath. “We had a good time last weekend and that’s really all it should be. All it can be,” she quickly corrected.
Standing there defiantly, Scarlett knew how to both look and sound intimidating. Her brothers had taught her that. Unfortunately, Mason didn’t look the least bit fazed. She wanted to get snarky and tell him to leave, but…she couldn’t. Damn him! Why couldn’t he have just walked away like so many had before him?
The next thing she knew, he was standing directly in front of her looking just as comfortable and casual as if she hadn’t just essentially told him they were through.
“Can I ask you something?” His voice was as soft as a caress.
Doing her best to look unfazed, she replied, “Sure.”
“Have you had anything to eat?”
“Um…what?”
“It occurred to me as you were listing all the things you’ve been doing that you’ve probably been neglecting yourself in the process. So, have you eaten?”
Closing her eyes, she silently counted to ten before looking at him again. “What is wrong with you?” she asked, though there was very little heat behind her words and she couldn’t help but laugh.
He pretended to be offended. “Darlin’, I’m just making sure you take care of yourself. I was thinking we could order a pizza and talk.”
Damn. She hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and pizza did sound good…
“C’mon,” he prompted. “You can go take a shower and I’ll order the pizza. What do you say?”
It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to sit and talk to him. Scarlett knew she at least owed him that. And really, he was a nice guy who didn’t deserve to have her acting so completely bitchy towards him. So…
“Okay,” she said after a moment. “Sure. Pepperoni?”
His smile was downright dazzling. “You got it.”
Knowing pizza delivery was fairly fast in Magnolia, she told Mason to make himself at home as she ran to her room to shower. It took some effort, but she fought the urge to overly primp, choosing to hit the basics–shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and a quick shave of all pertinent areas. Why? Because she was practical and no matter how much she tried to say they were just going to eat pizza and talk, there was always the possibility of more.
Hell, she wished she had told him to forget about the pizza and dragged him into the shower with her.
“Plan for another time,” she murmured as she stepped out of her tiny shower and quickly dried off. Ten minutes later, she had on a clean pair of leggings, an oversized t-shirt, and somewhat dry hair and decided it was as good as it was going to get. She felt bad leaving him out there for so long and figured if he was true to his word, her appearance wouldn’t be a factor.
Stepping back out into the living room, Scarlett saw he had removed the plastic from the sofa and set up some paper plates and drinks on her coffee table. When he spotted her, he looked her over from head to toe and she felt it just as strongly as if his hands had touched her.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “How long till pizza gets here?”
“Any minute,” he replied. “How was the shower?”
With a soft laugh, she said, “Great. Actually, better than great. I wish I could have stayed in there longer.”
It w
asn’t a complete lie, but she wasn’t going to add how it would have been better if he had been in there with her.
“You know,” he began, walking toward her, “you didn’t have to rush. I would have kept the pizza warm until you were ready.”
It was such an inane conversation and she hated it. Sitting down on the sofa, she motioned for him to join her. “How was your week?”
To his credit, Mason only looked mildly surprised by her question as he sat beside her. For the next few minutes, he talked about some zoning issues he struggled with at work and how he’d spent the earlier part of the night celebrating his sister’s birthday.
“So you already ate dinner?”
He nodded.
“Then why did we order pizza?”
“That was for you,” he said simply, his arm resting along the back of the sofa.
And in that moment, Scarlett knew what she had to do.
“I’m sorry,” she said slowly. Twisting on the cushion, she faced him.
“For what?”
“For being a total bitch this week. You didn’t deserve that. You’re a great guy, Mason, and…”
He placed a finger over her lips to stop her flow of words. “Can I just say something first?”
She nodded.
“Was I disappointed when you didn’t return my calls? Yes. Did I spend a ridiculous amount of time obsessing about it? Also yes.” He moved closer. “But I didn’t take any of it as you being bitchy, Scarlett. If anything, I thought I had done something to offend you.”
Her eyes went wide. “Seriously?”
“Well…yeah. What else was I supposed to think?”
“Um…that I’m a horrible person and…you know…a bitch,” she said with another short laugh.
But Mason was shaking his head. “Now after coming here and seeing what you’ve been working on, I can understand why you were so busy.” He glanced over at the dog house and Scarlett had to admit, it was one of her favorite creations. It was a replica of the barn Christine and Ed had on their property and she painted it a hunter green with crisp white trim. There were windows and a small porch area with cutouts for food and water bowls and it was tall enough to fit a full-grown Labrador Retriever.
“I’m in awe of your talent,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.
“You’re crazy.”
“No, I’m not. The last thing I built was a birdhouse in middle school and it fell apart on the bus ride home that day!” They both laughed and she remembered that project. She was about to comment on it when there was a knock at the door. Mason instantly stood up and when she went to go grab her wallet, he stopped her. “My treat,” he said, and she didn’t want to argue.
Within minutes, they were back on the sofa and Scarlett was putting a slice of steaming hot pizza on her plate. “Are you sure you’re not going to have any? Because there’s more than enough here.”
“Well…maybe,” he said hesitantly, leaning forward and examining the pie.
“C’mon, there’s always room for pizza,” she teased.
“I guess.”
“You guess?” she said with a laugh. “I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t in the mood for pizza–no matter what else they’ve eaten.”
He considered her for a minute and then grinned.
She was coming to recognize it and knew something utterly adorkable was about to be said.
“Oh, I’m in the mood for pizza,” he said, but he didn’t reach for a slice. Instead, he leaned closer to her with a comically lecherous grin on his face. “A pizza you, that is!”
Unable to help herself, she tossed her plate down as she cracked up laughing. “Oh, my God! That has to be your worst one yet!”
He was laughing with her. “It’s all part of my charm.”
And damn if that wasn’t working for him. Pizza could be reheated, but this moment couldn’t be duplicated. Before she lost her nerve, she moved to straddle his lap and kissed him with everything she had. Mason’s arms banded around her as he gave as good as he got.
“I swear I didn’t come here for this,” he said between kisses.
“I know,” she said breathlessly. “But you know what those stupid lines do to me.”
She was already wrapped around him as he stood. “Bedroom?”
“Down the hall on the left.”
He stopped in the doorway and Scarlett was ready to whip her shirt off when she realized he wasn’t moving. Slowly, he lowered her to her feet and shook his head.
“What?” she asked. “What’s the matter?”
One hand reached up and gently caressed her cheek just before it also reached for her hand and led her back to the living room. For a moment, she was completely confused and once they were seated again, Mason let out a long breath. “Eat your dinner,” he said. “And then we’ll talk. And then…” He paused and shrugged. “Maybe then we can pick up where we left off at the end of the hall.”
And right then and there, she knew–Mason Bishop was everything she ever dared to dream of.
And later that night, as they finished cold pizza in bed while laughing and watching more episodes of Stranger Things, all she felt was a sense of total contentment.
Six
“Are you sleeping at your desk?”
Mason’s head shot up as he looked around in confusion. Sam was standing in the doorway to his office with a look of utter amusement on his face.
“Must have been one hell of a night to have you looking like this,” he teased as he walked in and pulled up a chair. “So where’d you go? Was it that club out in Wilmington?”
Stretching in his chair, Mason yawned and did his best to wake up because…yeah, he had totally fallen asleep at his desk. Raking a hand through his hair, he forced himself to focus on his cousin. “No,” he said before yawning again. “Not Wilmington.” Reaching for the bottle of water he’d put on his desk earlier, he took a long drink before speaking again. “What brings you here?”
Leaning back in his chair, his cousin continued to look at him with his usual cocky grin. Normally it didn’t bother him, but right now he was still a little disoriented.
“Sam?”
“You didn’t answer me. Where were you last night that you’re dragging ass today?”
“Here in town.”
One of Sam’s brows arched at Mason’s snarky tone. “Dude, seriously? Last time I saw you was at that concert and you all but flew out of there. I caught a glimpse of you running through the crowd and word around town is you were chasing after a local girl. I figured you’d eventually come by and hang out and I’d get the details, but you’ve been suspiciously M.I.A. for over a week. So what gives?”
With a groan, Mason leaned back in his own seat and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Since when do you pay attention to local gossip anymore? I thought you were over that.”
Sam shrugged. “I’m done listening to the shit about me. Shit about you, however, I’m all for hearing. Especially when you’re not talking.”
If there was one thing Mason knew about his cousin, it was how he was tenacious and he wasn’t going to leave until he heard what he came here to find out. He took another drink of water before he opened up.
“So yeah…I met up with someone I went to school with but hadn’t seen in years and…we’ve been spending time together.”
Sam’s expression went from hopeful to bored in the blink of an eye. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell me? That’s the reason you were lying in a puddle of your own drool when I walked in–because you’re spending time with someone? Mason, come on, man. There’s more to the story than that!”
“If you’re looking for details, you’re out of luck. Not gonna happen,” Mason said defensively. “Do I ask you for details about you and Shelby? No!”
And that’s when he knew he tripped up.
“So this is serious?” Sam asked, straightening in his chair, eyes wide. “Who is she? Do I know her? Does Shelby?”
With a muttered curse, Mason l
eaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. “Are we seriously sitting here gossiping like a bunch of teenage girls? Is that what we’re reduced to?”
“Nice deflection, but…apparently,” Sam replied. “I’m not looking to gossip. I’m just curious about the girl you’re clearly into, since you’ve seen her more than once. Is it one of the girls your mother’s been pushing on you? Should I be looking for an engagement announcement in the Magnolia Gazette?”
Just the thought of that made him groan as another curse flew from his lips. “It’s not like that. You don’t know her and she’s definitely not someone my mother set me up with.”
“Well now I’m even more intrigued.”
Why fight it? He thought, and then the whole story came tumbling out–from seeing Scarlett at the concert, to their weekend together, and through the previous night.
“So you’ve spent the last two weekends with her,” Sam began slowly, as if trying to wrap his brain around the whole situation. “And…what? Is this just a sex thing? Are you dating?”
Good question.
“Scarlett doesn’t want to put a label on it,” Mason said. “At least not yet. Part of me thinks she’s putting up some parameters based on her own issues and I’m too damn afraid to spook her.”
“That’s bullshit, bro. What kind of issues does she have?”
“Let’s just say she hasn’t had the easiest life and she’s not particularly fond of people who have.”
“Damn.”
“Tell me about it. I swear, I’ve had girls throwing themselves at me for years because my family has money and now I find a girl I really care about and the family money is a huge turnoff for her! How’s that for irony?”
“Wow. Just…wow. What are you going to do?”
In Case You Didn’t Know Page 8
