Passionate Kiss

by Cooper, Sharon C.

  They ate and talked as London gave Harper a play-by-play of her conversation with Mason. Though it felt a little weird talking to Harper about her brother, London kept going. She didn’t have anyone else to share with and no one knew her and Mason better than Harper.

  “I’m glad that knuckle-headed brother of mine finally admitted his feelings for you. Now to get him to propose marriage so we can go wedding-dress shopping.”

  London set her fork down. “Harp, don’t start.”

  Harper pointed her fork at London. “I don’t care what you say. Mason loves you, spends all of his time with you, and will kill anyone who steps to you. He had better marry you.”

  “Well, don’t pick out your maid of honor dress yet. He’s still not interested in having a wife.”

  “Then you’re going to have to practice tough love and walk away. I still think you were crazy to offer to have children with him without marriage in the first place. The only reason I backed off was because Mason has always had strong feelings for you. Normally I don’t believe a woman can change a man, but if anyone can change Mason’s opinion about commitment and marriage, it’s you.”

  London wanted nothing more than to be Mrs. Mason Bennett, but she wouldn’t hold her breath. Mason made it clear that he still wasn’t looking to get married and she planned to respect his decision.

  She moved food around on her plate with her fork, no longer hungry. Normally she would agree with Harper about walking away since Mason didn’t want what she wanted. If she had a list of stupidest things she’d ever done over the years, propositioning Mason would rank number one. Going along with his proposition was the second stupidest. She should’ve known she couldn’t handle dating him without any expectations. But it was too late. She was in too deep.

  *

  Mason leaned on the console in Club Masquerade’s control room, studying some of the monitors. Spending much of his time lately with London, he hadn't been at the club as often. Fortunately, he could rely on their great staff. From what he could see everything seemed to be running smoothly.

  “When we get the new equipment, maybe we can consider adding an extra camera near the side bar,” Jack, one of the security specialists, said. He and three other people were monitoring the comings and goings of the club. “What we have now is okay, but I think one more behind where Ted is standing will give us more eyes on the area to his left.”

  Mason followed Jack’s hand as he pointed to various spots on the overhead monitors. “I agree. We’ll have a few extra cameras when it’s all said and done, and we can identify any other areas that might need more of our attention.”

  “Mase?” Hamilton’s voice boomed through a covert earpiece Mason wore while on site.

  “Yeah. Go ahead, Ham.”

  “Don’t trip, but there’s a guy at the round bar who’s been watching your girl’s table since they arrived. I’m thinking London is the object of his affection because when she was on the dance floor, he stood off to the side watching her until she returned to the table.”

  Tension crawled down Mason’s back and he moved down the console to the monitor that he could best see London. She and some of her coworkers had arrived about an hour ago, taking advantage of Wind Down Wednesday happy hour. He was surprised to see her since she’d been pulling some long hours at work for the last couple of days.

  Mason’s gaze scanned the bar. The lighting on the first floor of the club wasn’t as dark during happy hour as they had it sometimes on the weekend, but he still had to look closely. “Which guy?”

  “The one in a striped shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbow, nursing a beer. His back is to the circular stairs.”

  Mason stood over his security guy’s shoulder, staring at the man Hamilton described. “Zoom in on him,” he said to the guy monitoring that screen.

  “Dammit,” Mason growled.

  Cory.

  The dossier Wiz had sent over about Cory Fields included a more recent photo than the one London had showed him two years earlier.

  Mason had no idea what the guy was up to, but he had every intention of finding out. His attention went back to where London sat. She was finally starting to seem like her old self. She enjoyed her job, and no longer had the stress of looking for a place to live since Harper suggested that they live together for a while longer. The last thing he wanted was for London to know that Cory was in town. He also didn’t want to risk her seeing him if he went down and snatched the guy up.

  “Ham, see if you can lure him to the back stairs without raising attention. I don’t want London to see him.”

  Mason watched as Hamilton approached the guy and whispered into his ear, Bones hanging out nearby. Words were exchanged back and forth. This was one of those times when he appreciated Hamilton’s patience. He knew himself well enough to know he wouldn’t bother with a lot of words. He wasn’t patient with assholes who harassed defenseless women.

  Cory turned his beer bottle up. Looking to finish it off, he set it on the bar and finally stood. Hamilton led him the long way around the club to the ‘Personnel Only’ area, away from London, with Bone’s pulling up the rear.

  Mason buttoned his suit jacket, concealing his holster, and headed toward the stairs. He had no idea what he was going to say to the guy, but he had to convince him that, one: he wasn’t welcomed at the club. And two: if Mason found him anywhere near London again, he would be sorry.

  “What do you mean there’s been a complaint?” Cory growled the moment they were in the private hallway and Mason was midway down the stairs. “What type of complaint?”

  Mason had wondered what Hamilton had said to Cory to get him to follow him out.

  “The table of women in the corner that you’ve been watching felt uncomfortable with you staring at them,” Hamilton explained without looking at Mason.

  Cory gave a humorless laugh. “This is crazy. So what, I can’t admire beautiful women?”

  “Not when one of those women belong to me,” Mason said, from the stairwell. “Cory Fields, right?” Mason stood in front of the guy wanting like hell to punch him. At around six feet tall with a muscular build, Cory looked as if he could hold his own. But Mason had full-blown anger on his side. The thought that a man this size had manhandled London, made him want to squeeze the life out of him.

  Cory narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters when you step to me like this!” Cory took a half a step back when Mason got in his face. “I don’t know what this is about, but you need to check yourself, brotha.”

  “I’m not your brotha. And as for London …” Mason noticed a flicker in Cory’s eyes at the mention of her name, but it disappeared as quick as it appeared. “She is off limits to you. I don’t know what type of sick game you’re playing, but I suggest you head back to North Carolina and forget about her.”

  A slow smirk lifted the corner of Cory’s lips. “And if I don’t?”

  Anger boiled inside of Mason. He snatched the guy up by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. With his forearm against the man’s neck, cutting off his airway, Mason knew that if he didn’t let up some, he’d kill him on the spot. Before loosening his grip, their noses almost touching, Mason said, “If you don’t, I will hunt you down and beat your motherfucking ass.”

  “I ca-can’t brea—” Cory gasped for air, his hands grasping at Mason’s arm.

  Hamilton gripped Mason’s shoulder. “Mase. Let him go.”

  “Not until I’m sure he understands how serious I am.” His voice was low and threatening. Cory’s eyes closed, his breaths shallow. Mason didn’t care. He placed his mouth near the man’s ear. “If you call her, if you come anywhere near her, if you put your hands on her again … I’m coming for you.”

  “Mason, let him go,” Hamilton repeated.

  Mason jerked his arm to the side, throwing the guy to the travertine floor. He stood over Cory, watching him cough and gasp for air.

 
“Come near her again and your ass is mine.”

  Chapter Ten

  “You’re still not sounding too good. Are you sure you can handle another couple of hours at work?” Mason asked.

  London closed a folder that she’d been looking through, shoving it back into the file drawer to her right. Mason had been hovering over her, staying closer than a shadow since her asthma had flared up the day before. But London had a feeling his overprotectiveness had nothing to do with her health.

  “I’m fine, Mase. But are you all right? You’ve been acting a little strange. Well, stranger than usual.”

  “Ha, ha, ha, very funny. I’m cool. But I’m not the one who is still wheezing. Although you do sound better than you did yesterday, but not much. I’m actually surprised your boss didn’t send you home.”

  “My producer suggested I take the rest of the day off, but I told him I’d be fine.”

  London hadn’t been there long enough to start taking days off. Battling asthma wasn’t new to her. She had dealt with the illness all her life and knew the warning signs of an attack. The flare-ups concerned her, but as long as she had her rescue inhaler nearby, she wasn’t worried.

  “Well, don’t forget to call me before you leave work.”

  “Mase, what’s going on?” Now she knew something was up. He had insisted on driving her to work the last few days and she gave in. Today, she drove herself since she had to be at work by three that morning and he hadn’t gotten home until one. Since her first break, he’d either called or texted her to check in.

  “Nothing’s going on. I know you haven’t been feeling well and I want to make sure you’re all right.”

  London hesitated. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  “So you’re going to call me?”

  “Yes, I’ll call you.”

  “Good. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

  “Love you more.” She smiled and disconnected. She wouldn’t ever get tired of hearing those words from him. Not only did he say them often, but on a daily basis he showed her how important she was to him.

  Dating Mason had taken some getting used to since he had always treated her like a little sister. There were days she still had to pinch herself to know that this was real life. She had dreamt about being his woman for as long as she could remember. But now, being with him felt as normal as opening her eyes every morning.

  Yep, they were going to make it. They were great together.

  Hours later, London rushed from the ladies’ room ignoring the tightness in her chest and headed for the anchor desk. She was supposed to be in her seat ten minutes before go time and she was late.

  She dropped down in her seat and blew out an exhausted breath, coughing again. She dabbed at the perspiration near her hairline. This was her last on-air hour for the day, and she prayed she could get through it without breathing hard and coughing.

  “You feeling okay?” her co-anchor whispered when London coughed once more, a wheeze following close behind.

  She shook her head but said, “Yeah, I think so.” Breathing in slowly, she tried holding back another cough, annoyed at herself that she didn’t stop by her cubicle for her inhaler, but …

  London glanced up at the countdown clock on top of the camera. She patted her hair, hoping it was still in place, and attached her mic with only three minutes left before going live. Relax. She took the last couple of minutes to focus on her breathing.

  Four. Three. Two. One.

  “Good afternoon every … one, I’m London Ale … xander,” she wheezed, anxiousness coursing through her veins as she read the teleprompter. “New at five, po … lice broke up a drug ring in Buck … head this after … noon. Let’s … go to Jesse Ch-Chase who is stan … ding by live near Peachtree Road.”

  London struggled to breathe in and out without coughing. Her producer spoke into her ear, letting her know she should leave the set. The tightness in London’s chest and the struggle to breathe grew as she pushed back in her seat.

  An intern rushed over. “What’s wrong?” He assisted her with removing the microphone and earpiece before helping her away from the desk.

  “In … haler. I need … my … inhaler.” She coughed and wheezed with every word.

  “Where is it?” His gaze darted around when they arrived in London’s cubicle.

  She yanked open the desk draw and grabbed her rescue inhaler and collapsed into her chair. Shaking the device a few times she brought it to her mouth.

  “Better?” the intern, who was now bent down in front of her, asked a few seconds after she took a second puff.

  “Yes. Thank you.” She coughed.

  London glanced up to find several of her co-workers and producer standing in the opening of the cubicle.

  “I’m sorry,” she hurried to say. Deep down she knew she shouldn’t have gone on air, but she honestly thought she could handle the last hour.

  “All that matters is that you’re okay,” the producer said after London’s co-workers expressed their concern before going back to work. “I should have insisted you take the rest of the day off earlier.”

  London shook her head, still feeling a little winded. “No. It’s my fault. This flare-up kinda caught me off guard.”

  The intern returned holding a cup. “My mother has asthma and hot tea seems to help her no matter how hot it is outside.”

  London flashed him a smile. “Thank you. This is very thoughtful.” Hot tea had helped her in the past, too, but she hadn’t thought to make a cup today.

  “Take it easy for a while and then I want you to head home.” The producer turned to the intern. “Hang out with her until she’s feeling better. Then call a car for her.”

  “That’s not necessary. I’ll be all right and I drove.” When he started to speak again, she added, “I won’t leave until I know I’m feeling well enough to drive. But thank you both for everything.”

  The producer hesitated. “Okay, but if you’re not feeling better before you’re ready to leave, let us know and we’ll get you home. And take tomorrow off as well.”

  London agreed. Sipping the hot tea, which tasted as if it had a hint of honey, she debated on whether to go home or stick around until she felt better. Deciding on the latter, she finished her tea, and rested her head against the back of the chair before closing her eyes. Focusing on her breathing, she tried relaxing. She needed to figure out why her asthma kept acting up. Blaming it on the pollen count wouldn’t fly anymore since the last few days the pollen had been fine. Maybe it was time to change her medication. She wasn’t sure, but no way was she going to risk an asthma attack on television again.

  After a short nap, London glanced at her cell phone, surprised she’d slept for forty-five minutes. She changed out of her heels and slipped into the flats that she’d worn earlier. Getting off of work a little early would give her time to cook dinner before Mason stopped by. Then again, since she was still a little tired, maybe she would have him order in.

  Thinking about him reminded her that she needed to call him. She pulled out her cell phone, but instead of calling, she sent him a quick text.

  I’m heading home. See you later.

  London didn’t wait for a response and left her cubicle.

  “Hope you feel better.”

  “See you next week.”

  Her co-workers said as she passed them, heading to the exit that would take her to the parking lot.

  “Thank you. Have a good evening.”

  It had been a long time since she had to leave work due to not feeling well. So the next few days would be used to rest up. Hopefully she could get a doctor’s appointment soon. Her medication hadn’t changed in years, but maybe it was time.

  London said her good-byes to a few more people before slipping on her sunglasses. Pushing the door to the parking lot open, she braced herself for the heat. The temperature had been in the mid-nineties for the past week and today was no different. The humidity felt as if it was at a thousand percent, perspiration popped o
ut along her hairline.

  She dug through the side pocket of her large handbag and pulled out her keys.

  “London.”

  London turned back. A smile played on her lips when the fashionista of the television station waved. Tabitha, one of the floor directors, was the first person to befriend London when she started. Strolling back toward her, London admired the short, sleeveless peplum dress and stylish high heels. Tabitha had mentioned having a dinner date that evening and whoever she was meeting was in for a treat because she looked amazing.

  Tabitha hugged her. “Hey, I heard you had an asthma attack. Are you okay?”

  “It wasn’t an actual attack. Lately, my asthma has been acting up, but I feel better. Thanks for asking.”

  “Oh no problem. I love that bag.” She pointed to London’s light blue Coach handbag, a birthday present to herself the year before.

  “Thank you. I’m trying to keep up with you.” She nodded to Tabitha’s huge Michael Kors duffle bag in one hand and purse in the other.

  “Oh, girl, please. Me and the outlet stores are very good friends.” They both laughed and talked for a few minutes longer before saying their good-byes.

  Turning down the aisle where her car was parked, London’s steps slowed.

  What the …

  Two flat tires.

  So much for getting home early. Now she had to wait for a tow truck.

  Still staring at the car, London realized the vehicle wasn’t leaning to one side as it should, considering the flat tires. She took a look on the other side of the car and froze. All four tires flat.

  “Ugh, today of all …” Wait. No way could she have four flat tires. With a closer look at one of the wheels, she noticed the long slash in the face of the tire.

  No. No. No.

  Fear crawled down her back and she backed away from the vehicle, glancing around frantically, gripping her purse strap tighter. This can’t be happening. Her heart pounded like a jackhammer. She walked quickly toward the building, but started running when she got closer, glancing over her shoulder.