“I’m so glad you guys stopped by. I miss seeing your face.” She lightly shoved Mason’s shoulder. “Last time I saw you was this little man’s shower. Felipe and some of the old crowd came down for brunch the other week and to do the Saturday market. He asked about you.”
“That’s…uh…nice.” Mason’s face went pink even as he bent to make a face at the baby.
Ah. Felipe, the ex. My arms tensed, wanting to touch him, that urge to claim and be claimed growing. I didn’t much like the idea of this Felipe asking after my guy. Except, as I continually reminded both Mason and myself, he wasn’t mine.
“Don’t be a stranger, Mase. You don’t even update your social media anymore. What’s up with you?”
Me. I’m up with him. I bit back the words and waited for Mason to answer.
“Oh, not much. Busy with the tavern. Keeping Logan and Adam in line. Learning how to fish.”
I knew that last bit was just for me, and I couldn’t help smiling at him.
“Fishing, huh?” Cat’s knowing smile said she hadn’t missed my reaction. “That’s…interesting. I better get back to the kitchen, but Tara will take care of you. Biscuits just came out of the oven.”
We took our seats, and Mason studied the colorful menu like it was one of the crime novels I occasionally picked up. As was typical for Eugene, there were little symbols indicating what was vegan and gluten free and which dishes were locally sourced.
“I can’t decide between the pulled-pork hash and the biscuits and gravy.” Mason finally looked up from the menu. “What would you say to ordering both and sharing?”
Back in Rainbow Cove I would have declined—sharing from the same plate was a little cutesy for my tastes, the type of thing that only couples would do. But here, miles from home, all I really wanted was another of his easy smiles, to make him happy with something so simple. “Sure. But I’m taking my coffee black. I’ll leave the latte to you.”
“No problem.” Sure enough, his smile warmed me through, was worth any discomfort I felt about his friend maybe guessing that we were more than acquaintances.
And it was sort of…cozy, sharing the two heaping plates of food, him waxing on about the flavors. I wasn’t ever going to be a foodie like him, but I also wasn’t likely to get tired of watching how his face went slack with pleasure when he really liked something. It made me remember how he looked in my bed and caused me to shift around in my seat.
“That was nice,” Mason said after a tussle for the check. I’d paid, same as I’d won the argument about who was driving the next stretch. “Wasn’t it?”
The uncertainty in his voice pricked at me. He deserved better than me, deserved someone who would hold his hand on the way to the car, someone who would proudly share food with him back home, someone he could introduce to his friends with no awkwardness.
“It was.” I slid into the driver’s seat then surprised myself by leaning over, squeezing his leg, meeting his eyes with more than friendly intent.
He smiled slow and sly and gave me a fast kiss. And the world didn’t end. No one whooped or hollered or honked. I didn’t self-combust into a pile of shame and guilt. No, I…well, I liked it. Far more than I should have. Ready or not, I was changing thanks to Mason Hanks, and hell if I knew what to do with the person emerging.
Nineteen
Mason
“Come on, admit it. You’ve missed this.” Brock stretched, a subtle roll of his shoulders because even the guy’s movements were classy, and gave me self-satisfied grin.
“Okay, okay,” I groaned. “I’ve missed good sushi. Happy now?” I was in serious danger of needing to be rolled out of Yama, a restaurant near the firm Brock worked for and his downtown condo.
“And I’ve missed you.” Brock clipped me on the shoulder right before he slipped the waitress his corporate credit card. This had ostensibly been a working dinner to celebrate the pitch to the investors going well. “It’s got to be hard being all isolated down there in the middle of nowhere.”
“Oh, it’s not so bad.” I laughed. And it was true. A year ago, I’d dreaded the idea of ever moving back, and as recently as the spring I’d worried that I might die of boredom in Rainbow Cove, but sometime in the past few months, a new peace had settled over me, even with all the worries about the business and the vandalism and my family stuff. And I knew more than a little of that was due to Nash.
“So where are we headed now?” Brock tipped an eye-popping amount before shutting the little bill folder. “Bet it’s been forever since you’ve gotten some.”
I choked on my water.
“Okay. Or not.” Brock laughed and slapped me on the back. “Please tell me it’s not Logan. That would be a disaster—”
“It’s not Logan. Or Adam.”
“Or some redneck.” He shuddered. “I get being hard up, but flannel scares me.”
“It would.” I laughed, because someday Brock was going to meet his match. Probably some equally well-groomed urbanite, but I’d pay money to see someone knock him on his carefully sculpted ass.
“So can I interest you in Silverado or somewhere more refined? Or is this mystery thing something exclusive?”
“It’s…complicated.” I guessed we were exclusive. We hadn’t revisited the subject since the first time we’d fucked at Nash’s house, and we sure as hell hadn’t put a label on this thing between us, but I had zero interest in fucking around. “And I’m sorry, but I’ve got other plans.”
Brock’s eyebrows shot up. “With your secret man? Can I meet him? Please.”
“You’re a shameless gossip.” I laughed as we made our way out of the sushi joint. “And no. Not ready for that.”
I didn’t add that I wasn’t ever going to be ready for that. Or more precisely, Nash wasn’t ever going to be up for that. There was no shiny future for us where I got to watch Nash fumble his way through an evening at one of Brock’s favorite hipster restaurants, got to watch him put Brock in his place. A hidden part of me craved seeing the most important people in my life at one time. And when had that circle come to include Nash? “Include” was a mild way of putting it—Nash had become the goddamn center of my life, and hell if that didn’t scare me.
“Okay.” Brock sighed. “Be that way. At least the meeting went well.”
“It did, didn’t it?” I grinned, trying to defuse some of his disappointment at me calling it an early night. The investors had listened closely to Brock’s pitch for renovating the resort and had good questions for me about how our advertising efforts were paying off. For the first time, I was truly hopeful that our big plans might actually come to fruition.
“I can’t wait to call you with good news in the next few weeks.” Brock gave me a fast hug. “But now we better not have you late for your date with Mr. Mystery. You sure I can’t walk you—”
“Positive.” I resisted the urge to dig out my phone, see if I was running behind for meeting up with Nash at a bar I’d picked near our hotel. After saying goodbye to Brock, I hurried through the downtown blocks, dodging the evening foot traffic. All the towering buildings and wide sidewalks full of people weirded me out after a summer spent on the coast, in a town with mostly single-story buildings and a sparse population. Funny how fast the city had left me.
Nash had spent the afternoon and dinner with his family. We’d agreed to meet afterward at a low-key place I thought he’d enjoy. And I wanted a damn medal for not jumping him the second we’d checked in to our hotel room earlier. I’d been good and had changed into my business clothes for the meeting, settling for some intense kissing before we’d gone our separate ways.
I wasn’t sure I liked being desperate to reconnect, not when things were still so tenuous between us. This trip together was kind of a big deal in some ways—it had a “real couple” feel to it that I knew made him nervous. Still, it was hard to control the bounce in my step as I approached the bar, the grin that spread over my face when I saw him there, waiting near the entrance, the speeding of my pulse
when his eyes lit up at my approach.
“Hey, you.” I grinned, unsure how to greet him. Two guys holding hands stepped around us to enter the bar, and my stomach clenched, wanting that easy affection with Nash, settling for his return smile. This place had an older crowd than the nearby dance clubs that Brock and I usually frequented. I thought Nash would appreciate that, not that I was letting him get away with his whole “I’m too old” routine.
“Missed you.” Damn, his sincerity felt nice. His eyes swept over me. “Not sure what it is about you all dressed up, but I like it.”
I’d had a tie on for the meeting, but it was in my pocket now, leaving me in my best button-down shirt, one that Felipe had picked out, and a pair of gray dress pants.
“I like you out of uniform, too,” I said as I followed him into the bar. Nash was in a variation of his usual off-work clothes—a green polo that looked almost new and khaki pants in place of his usual jeans. “How did it go with your family?”
“It went.” He shrugged. “Kids were loud, Mom’s apartment was too small, and Trisha cooked enough food for triple the people.”
“Aww. Poor Uncle Nash. Drinks on me.” I worked my way to the bar. Nash got Jack on the rocks and I got a vodka soda because Brock had foisted sake on me earlier and I needed something to sip slowly. We took our drinks to one of the booths. Small lamps at the center of each table made the dark wood-paneled walls glow, and I hoped the soothing ambiance would relax Nash.
Still, though, his eyes widened when I squeezed in next to him on the U-shaped bench seat instead of sitting across from him. “Better people watching this way,” I lied.
Nash said nothing, just took a long pull of his drink. “You come here often?” he said at last. “Doesn’t seem like your sort of crowd.”
“I’m not some party guy. I’m not much of a dancer, and I figured you weren’t, either.”
“That I’m not.” Nash laughed self-consciously. “I about tripped over a bachelorette party last time I tried that place down the street.”
I let out a Nash-worthy growl. I didn’t like the sound of Nash hitting the well-known meat market one bit. “Yeah? Well, just so you know, you’ve got a sure thing tonight.”
“That so?” Under the table, his hand found my knee and squeezed. Oh, I liked this. I scooted a little closer, testing his comfort level.
Nash glanced around but didn’t move away from me. This was a very couple-centric place, lots of hand-holding and snuggling and not as many single guys, although Nash did draw his share of appreciative looks from men waiting at the bar. It was a shame that he simply couldn’t see how hot he was. Or, actually, maybe that was a good thing, as it meant more hotness for me.
“You play pool?” I asked, gesturing to the back of the bar. The tables were taken, but I figured we could get in line if he wanted.
“Some. I’d rather just enjoy my drink with you, though.” Nash’s smile was so sweet that I almost went into sugar shock. I had a feeling his response had more to do with the fact that playing pool would involve being center stage among the bar patrons who were playing back there. I still liked sitting like this, especially when his arm snaked around my waist. He held me where people couldn’t see, but it was as close as Nash had ever come to PDA and my heart stuttered. For an instant, I let myself want, let myself believe in a future where it wasn’t only my plans for Rainbow Cove coming to fruition, but also my most secret hopes for the two of us.
Twenty
Nash
Mason was happy, and God, it felt so good to see. His face was soft with more than just drink loosening his muscles. I tightened my hand on his waist, pulling him close. I had visited gay bars before, but this was the first time I’d gone with someone. Not being on the prowl or worried someone would recognize me was novel and surprisingly freeing.
Here, I could be with Mason, really with him, and I didn’t want the feeling to end. I sipped my drink slowly, letting the background music of the bar wash over me as the Jack created a familiar burn in my chest. It was Mason’s kind of music—freewheeling and popular—but the wood decor and soft lighting went a long way to calming me down, allowing me to enjoy this moment with my guy. Tomorrow we’d have to return to our real lives, but we could have tonight.
I pressed a quick kiss to Mason’s temple. It was the barest of contact, but it still felt like a personal rebellion. His smile made it more than worth whatever effort it cost me.
“I think I like you out of Rainbow Cove.” His eyes studied my mouth like he was contemplating how soon until he got to kiss me again. I liked that thought.
I like me out of town, too. Like me with you. And I like you far more than I should. I didn’t let myself say that, of course. I just wrapped my arm around him tighter. I tried to imagine doing this back home. Off duty, but out somewhere. An arm around him as we walked to Dolly’s. Maybe a fast kiss when he brought me lunch. No sneaking around. Could that really be my future?
“Hold on a sec.” Mason dug out his phone which was buzzing. Moving away from my embrace, he answered the call. “Jimmy? This better be good.”
The sound of his brother’s name added a new image to the scenes I’d been imagining. And it wasn’t a pretty one. If Mason took up with me in a public way, the grief he’d get from his brother, his father, his old friends would be considerable. And I knew I wouldn’t be worth the aggravation for him. My job would always have to come first, just as Mason’s family would have to come first for him.
Mason finished a fast conversation that had been mainly hissed replies on his end. “He in trouble?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
“No. Just needed a reminder that I’m not his freaking daycare. Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him I’m in Portland.”
“Thanks.” I felt far more relief that our secret was safe than I should have. “Sorry he’s giving you grief—”
“It’s fine.” Mason gave me a hard stare that reminded me why his family was always off-limits. “You want another drink?”
“Nah.” I’d lost my appetite for the drink and for being out with him. My feelings for him were so damn complicated. Even with the reminder about his family, the idea of not ending things, of letting the months drift out into something more permanent, was more tempting than any alcohol. That was where I needed to be careful, and not just with my reputation—my heart was on the line here, too.
We walked back to the hotel in silence, not holding hands or touching, and Mason’s shoulders turned inward, like he was hunkering down inside himself, steeling himself for my rejection. Opening the door to the room, I let him enter first.
“I…uh…” Mason glanced at the big bed in the center of the room. “You sure you don’t want me to crash at Brock’s?”
“I’m sure,” I growled, pulling him to me even though the sane thing would be to let him go, protect us both from the pain we’d suffer when this thing finally ended. But hell if I could bring myself to push him away. “Didn’t you promise me I was getting lucky?”
“I did.” He gave me tentative smile. “Sorry that Jimmy kinda ruined our night out.”
“He didn’t.” It wasn’t a total lie. Most of the fizzle was my fault, my reservations and fears ruining what had been working up to a pretty nice moment. To make up for it, I did the one thing that made sense and kissed him. He kissed me back the way he always did, eagerly, greedily even, but there was a sadness there that hadn’t been present when we’d kissed a few hours ago.
“I don’t want to need you,” Mason whispered against my jaw.
“I know. Me, too. I didn’t expect this. Not even a little.” I pushed his hair back with my hand, liking the crunchy feel of whatever he’d tamed it with before his meeting. And I did know exactly what he meant. That was the real reason I’d frozen up back at the bar—not Jimmy, not the worries about what others would think, it was this thing between us, bigger than either of us could control. Our hearts had gone and gotten tangled while we were supposed to be having careless fun, and now
I had no clue what came next.
“Nash…” Mason’s exhale was shaky as I rubbed my hands up and down his back, holding him to me. “What the hell are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my three least favorite words. “I’m a selfish bastard and not ready to let you go.”
“Then don’t.” His mouth was urgent against mine, and my tongue found his, teasing until he was panting against my lips. Maybe I couldn’t give him everything, but I could give him this.
“Fuck.” Mason pushed me against the closet door—and Lord, there was a metaphor there, one that made me release an unsteady laugh.
“What?” He nipped at my neck before tugging my shirt free.
“Nothing. Just laughing at my stupid self.”
“Quit being so hard on yourself, Nash. I mean it. There isn’t anyone who judges you harder than you, and that’s sad.” He punctuated his words with a soft kiss on my bare chest before he started to sink lower.
I halted him with a hand on his shoulder. “Bed. Not sure my old knees—”
“Stop it with the old business. Is that what’s really holding you back? The age difference?” He shoved me in the direction of the bed, kicking off his shoes as we went.
“No.” I sighed. “Or at least not just that. You deserve someone closer to your age, though. Someone young and fun—”
“I’ve had that. And I’ve never had anything like I’ve had with you, so how about you let me decide what too old is, okay?”
It was a testament to how much I wanted him—all of him—that I nodded. I wasn’t convinced, but I didn’t want to argue anymore, didn’t want to spoil this evening any further, wanted to savor his admission that this was something new for him. Stripping off his clothes, Mason studied me with feral intent.
“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever had, and you don’t even know it.”
Trust with a Chaser (Rainbow Cove Book 1) Page 16
