“Oh, it’s my pleasure. How’s he doing?” she asked.
“Fine.”
“No redness, no oozing, no signs of infection?” she asked, going into nurse mode. “No fever?”
“No,” Brad said, the smile widening. “He’s good. Gosh, you’re a sweet girl, aren’t you?”
Emily blushed and Mason felt his stomach roll. When he left, she was going to fall in love with Brad. And they were going to sleep together. The thought of Brad with his hands all over Emily made him feel sick to his stomach, even if Brad seemed like a nice enough man.
Emily is mine, damn it.
He wanted to take her with him, and forget the whole plan to leave her in another man’s capable hands. But he couldn’t do that. He had to be selfless this time, for Emily’s sake.
“Brad’s got a house on the edge of town,” Mason said. “Lots of firewood.”
“That’s… nice,” Emily said, looking at Mason with a strange expression on her face. “Were you going into the church?” she asked both the men.
“I was going to,” Brad said. “But Mason here had some questions for me.”
“I see.” The confused expression on her face indicated she had no idea what was going on. “Well, I’m going back in. You coming?”
Mason nodded. “In a minute.”
Brad hung back too as Emily walked into the church, taking a seat near the back so as not to disturb the service.
“Well?” Mason asked, looking at Brad, who still watched her from the doorway.
Mason looked at Brad expectantly, wondering if this was the man who would look after Emily for him when he had to leave her behind tomorrow.
“She’s beautiful,” Brad admitted again. “Why don’t you bring Emily by my place after church so we can get to know each other a bit better before I make any promises. You could help chop more wood.”
Mason nodded. He should feel happy, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before Emily won over Brad and ensured her own future in the town. Instead he felt like he’d been sucker punched in the gut.
After church, Emily, Mason and Brad walked over to Brad’s house. Mason stayed back a few steps, letting Emily get to know Brad a bit. She didn’t even notice that Mason lagged behind, since she had so many questions about all her patients that Brad knew.
“Have you run into that short woman with the pinkeye? How’s her eye look now? She hasn’t come back to see me and tomorrow it will be too late,” Emily said.
She thought she was going with Mason. But he couldn’t let her do that. He couldn’t be that selfish.
Brad seemed to slow his long stride to match Emily’s shorter steps, something that had taken Mason a while to figure out how to do since he was so used to walking alone. Brad took to it easily, as if he’d been born to walk beside Emily. Emily, however, didn’t appear to notice the way Brad smiled at her.
“You want to come in for some tea?” Brad asked. “I make it with mint leaves.”
“That sounds perfect,” Emily said, looking back over her shoulder to grin at Mason.
“I’m going to get started on chopping wood. Maybe you can get a mug ready for me,” Mason said, averting his eyes. He couldn’t look at her, knowing that she wanted him to take her with him and that he couldn’t let that happen—not if Brad agreed to take her in. Mason had to protect Emily, even if that meant letting her go.
Brad crossed the garden with Mason and showed him the downed tree that needed chopping. “Thanks for your help, man,” Brad said. “Come inside for tea when you need a break.”
“I will.” Mason hefted the axe and brought it down hard, glad to have something to accomplish to keep his mind off the fact that tomorrow, he’d be gone. And he’d never see Emily again.
* * *
Emily entered Brad Crimshaw’s modest home and smiled when he pulled a chair out for her.
“I’ll get some water boiling,” Brad said. With Mason outside, Brad seemed nervous around her.
“His bark is worse than his bite,” she said, nodding out the window to Mason chopping wood with a look of fierce determination. “You don’t have to be so nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” Brad said, tossing mint leaves into the pot to let them steep. “I heard you guys aren’t really together.”
Emily flushed. “We’re not married, no.”
“But you like him.”
She glanced out the window at Mason again, and this time she caught his eye. She couldn’t keep the flirtatious smile off her face. “Yeah,” she said, turning back to Brad as he handed her a mug of mint tea. “I like him.”
* * *
Mason stopped and wiped his brow with his forearm and chanced yet another glance in Brad’s kitchen window. He could see Emily inside, grinning happily as she chatted with Brad.
Seeing her with Brad tore Mason up inside. This is for real, he thought. She’ll fall in love with Brad when I’m gone, and she’ll be safe and happy here.
He brought the axe down on the tree trunk with a thud. Why was this so hard for him? Mason swung the axe again, determined to block out his overwhelming conflicting emotions through sheer force.
Brad came out with a mug of tea and handed it to Mason. He was worked up from the exercise and would’ve preferred cold water instead, but he sipped from the mug anyway and waited for Brad to speak first.
“I’ll do it,” Brad said. He seemed surprised by his own words as he looked back into his kitchen window at Emily. “She’s great. I’ll take her in, if she’ll have me. I’ll take care of her.”
“Really?” Mason knew he should feel like a burden had been lifted—like he was free, free of having to protect Emily, free to go and live alone like he had always done his whole life. Instead, he felt awful, like a heavy weight sat in his chest. “Thanks, man,” he said. “I’ll feel better leaving her here if I know she’s being looked after.”
“You don’t want to leave her, do you?” Brad asked, his eyebrow raising. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited for Mason’s response.
“No, it’s fine,” he lied. “I’ve only known her for a few weeks. I told her I’d protect her until she was safe. And that’s what I did. I wouldn’t mind staying here if I could, but you heard the council. They can’t afford anyone else. Only Emily, because she’s a nurse.”
Brad nodded slowly. “True.”
“That’s the other thing—she’ll work herself to death if someone doesn’t stop her. You need to make sure she’s not just taking care of other people—that she takes care of herself too. And next winter, when people start getting sick, you gotta make sure she doesn’t get sick too. Maybe have her wear a mask or something. I don’t know. I don’t know much about that stuff, but she does. So talk to her about it.”
“Okay,” Brad said. “So you’re gonna leave tomorrow, huh?”
“Yeah. Emily thinks she’s coming with me, but you know I can’t let that happen—for her sake.”
“She won’t want to be with me. She obviously has a thing for you,” Brad said. “There’s no way she’ll just forget you and marry me, because she’ll think you’re coming back.”
“I’ll leave a note,” Mason said. “You can give it to her. It’ll say that I’m gone and she should be with you.” Mason swallowed hard around the lump forming in his throat.
Brad nodded. “If you’re giving her to me, I’m taking you up on it. Obviously she has to decide for herself, I mean. If she’s not into me I won’t force her into anything.” He paused. “You’re a moron for leaving her.”
Mason frowned and Brad laughed, putting his hands up. “Just saying,” Brad said, laughing. “Your loss is my gain. I won’t try to stop you.”
Mason shook his head. Brad was right. He was a moron. A moron who was never going to see Emily again. The thought should have inspired a feeling of freedom Mason hadn’t felt since he first met Emily, but instead he felt lost. He didn’t want to be free, not if it meant he couldn’t be with her.
But for her
sake, he had to let her go.
Tonight, he realized, would be their last night together. But he wouldn’t tell her he’d be leaving without her—it would ruin their last moments together, when he wanted them to be special. Enjoyable. Not filled with tears and anger.
Who was he kidding? Emily wouldn’t fight for him to stay. She wasn’t the type of woman who’d settle down with a guy like Mason anyway—a convict. A murderer. An escaped prisoner.
She’d do much better with a guy like Brad. Dependable, strong, a pillar of his community. Not expendable like Mason was.
But if tonight would be their last night together, then he had to make it an evening to remember.
* * *
The nights were getting warmer, the spring firmly arrived in Potterskill. Flowers blossomed everywhere, wildflowers, Mason imagined, since all available land was used for growing vegetables and fruits.
Mason picked a few select buds, creating a small wildflower bouquet. Knocking on the back bedroom door at Luke and Melissa’s house, Mason creaked the door open. Emily was napping after their dinner of rice and potatoes and a small amount of fish. Still, good food, enough to nourish them. Sitting beside her on the bed, he brushed the flowers against her collarbone, tickling her.
Emily opened her eyes and smiled when she saw the flowers. “Hi,” she whispered.
God, he’d miss her. Miss seeing her beautiful brown eyes.
“Hi,” he whispered back. “I want to go for a midnight swim at the lake.”
“Now?” she asked, sitting up, giggling. The lake was small, maybe two miles around. It could probably be called a pond, he supposed, although everyone in town called it a lake. They had almost fished it clean out before someone recognized that in order to keep the lake stocked they’d need to be careful.
“Will you come with me?” he asked, offering his hand. She took it, smiling.
“Why not,” she said. “It’s not too cold out, and I could use a wash.”
“Me too,” Mason agreed.
They walked hand in hand down the streets, the crickets chirping loudly. Mason had grown to like the sound of crickets—they didn’t really have them in Manhattan. The moonlight gleamed off the surface of the lake, where tiny ripples seemed to glow.
Mason stripped off his shirt and watched as Emily shrugged out of her shirt and pants, shimmying them down her legs. Was this really the last time he’d have the pleasure of seeing her undress? The thought froze him, and Emily frowned.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Too cold?”
“No,” he said truthfully. The night was mild, definitely.
“Last one in’s a rotten egg!” she called playfully, running naked to the water’s edge. She threw herself into the lake, shrieking jubilantly as the cold water hit her.
Mason laughed and jumped in after her. It was really cold, but refreshing. Emily’s nipples had hardened to tight buds and he reached out and pinched one, as she squealed and pulled away.
“Not fair!” she said, pulling on his nipple. “Yours are too flat and tiny to get a good pinch on.”
He grinned and pulled her toward him, pressing his body against hers, his cock hard against her thigh under the cold water.
Her body warmed him. They swam out a few laps and swam toward each other once more, drawn to each other like magnets. Kicking his legs, he treaded water, enjoying his weightlessness and hers as well, pulling her around him in a circle.
They played for a while, kicking and splashing, before Mason noticed her shivering. “You’re cold,” he said. “Swim’s over.”
“No, I was having fun,” she protested, but she followed him out of the lake. The warm night air still breezed against their wet skin and Mason shivered, picking up his T-shirt and using it to towel Emily off, rubbing it down her body, watching as fat droplets of water clung to the black curls over her mound.
“Your turn,” she said, pulling his shirt out of his hand and rubbing it down his chest. When she got to his cock he groaned, the fabric sliding over his length, teasing him. He grabbed her, pulling her against his chest, warming her with his body heat.
Her lips tasted like sugar. He couldn’t get enough, never enough to last him for the rest of his life. And that’s what tonight needed to be… He had to take his fill of Emily so he’d never need to be with her again. So he could leave her in the safety and security of the town, with food and a man who would marry her and take care of her.
But as her hand wrapped around his cock, he pushed against her, needing more. It was pure selfishness, he knew, to want her to leave with him. On the road, he could not guarantee that she’d be okay. That she’d eat. That she wouldn’t die from exposure or bandits or anything else out on the road. If he loved her, he had to let her go.
And he loved her.
Mason gasped as her grip tightened right when that thought went through his mind. He couldn’t love her, it was impossible. He was a loner, always had been. There was no way after only a few weeks of being with Emily he’d managed to fall in love with her.
But why else would he want to keep her with him so badly?
* * *
Emily sensed Mason’s mind drifting and she gripped his cock, sliding her hand over it. What was he thinking about? He’d been distant all evening, playing and swimming, yes, but barely speaking. Had she done something wrong?
His muscular chest gleamed in the moonlight, but gooseflesh covered his naked torso. “Mason,” she whispered. “Let’s make a fire. We can warm up a bit and hang out here for a while longer before we go back.”
He tilted his head to one side as if it took him a few seconds to comprehend what she said. Laughing, she let go of his cock so he could hear her better.
“Um, come on,” she giggled. “Fire.”
He nodded, laughing. “Sure.”
There were several areas by the lakefront where people had set up stone circles for fires and picnics, so Mason had no problem adding some twigs for kindling and using his flint to spark a flame.
Emily thought it was impressive Mason had a flint to make fire with. He’d looted it from a camping store within days of his prison escape so he wouldn’t have to rely on matches or a lighter. More than a year later, that was a still a wise decision.
The fire warmed them, and Emily sat naked on Mason’s T-shirt. Mason was still quiet. Too quiet.
“Mason,” she said. “Something’s wrong with you. Tell me.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said, shaking his head. The flames danced in his blue eyes and she had to force herself not to get lost in them.
Taking his hand, she kissed his palm softly. “Are you mad at me?”
He looked genuinely surprised at her question. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Because—well, I think Brad flirted with me and I didn’t do much to stop him or make it clear we’re together.”
Mason got very still. “We’re not together, Emily. And if Brad flirts with you, that’s fine. He’s a good guy. You could do worse.”
Tears filled Emily’s eyes. Of course. She had been stupid to think just because Mason took her up on her offer to sleep with him in exchange for his protection that they were a couple. What did that even mean, anyway, in their post-Pulse world?
Nothing. It meant nothing, just like the men Jenna whored with meant nothing to her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
The tears streamed down her face and she sniffed, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. “I’m not crying,” she said, then laughed at the ridiculousness of her statement.
Mason leaned forward, kissing her tears off her cheek, finally landing his kiss on her lips. She tasted the salt from her tears on his tongue.
“I would never want to make you cry,” he said. “Never.”
“I just—it was stupid of me to say anything. About us being together. Of course we’re not together.”
Mason’s eyebrows furrowed but he said nothing.
“And…�
�� Emily said, searching his blue eyes for his thoughts, trying to gauge his feelings by his expression, but she couldn’t. “I shouldn’t have said anything. So forget the whole thing. Let’s enjoy this moment for what it is.”
His expression lightened as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders. Of course. That was it… He must be worried she was in too deep, and he just wanted to have fun. So now they could enjoy themselves again, now that Emily made it clear she understood it was only for the moment, and not forever.
Nothing was forever.
But in that moment, he kissed her so deeply all rational thought flew from her mind. She moaned and arched her body against his, gasping as he pulled her onto his lap so she straddled him. They both sat upright, her legs wrapped around his waist.
His cock pressed insistently against her inner thigh, nudging her, and she held it in her palm, pressing it against her clitoris. Rising up with her thighs, her movements caused his cock to rub her in exactly the right place.
He groaned and grabbed her hips, helping her rise and lower herself, his cock still not inside her pussy, sliding up and down across her slick folds, swelling her clit until she felt she’d explode if he didn’t fuck her soon.
“Please,” she begged, and he slid inside her aching cunt, filling her completely. She rocked back and forth, letting his cock hit her G-spot over and over again. “More, I need more.”
He grabbed hold of her hips, his fingertips digging into her skin. Lifting her up until he almost popped out of her pussy, he then slammed her back down again, thrust into her to the hilt. She gasped as he did it again.
“You like that?” he asked, his cock twitching inside her.
“I love it,” she said, and she felt him freeze again.
“What?” he asked quietly, as if he hadn’t heard her.
“I said, I love your cock,” she repeated.
“Oh.” He didn’t say anything further.
He probably thought I said I love you, she realized.
Gyrating her hips, she reached around to her side and peeled his fingers from her waist, thrusting his hand down between their bodies. “Touch me,” she whispered.
The Pulse: Book 1 in the Pulse Trilogy Page 21
