It also meant she was going to have to work closely with him to make sure it was made to her specs.
Dammit.
Every time she thought she had him out of her mind, Mrs. Finch was inventing ways to shove him back in.
She groaned aloud and then jumped when her phone dinged. She grabbed for it.
KYLIE: Hey doll, how’s your day going?
Glad for the distraction, she answered quickly. Kylie had been gone this afternoon to meet with an advertising firm, and the office had been deathly quiet.
GABI: Good, Mrs. F finally okayed the kitchen.
KYLIE: YAY! Finally!
GABI: You’re telling me. But she wants Mason to construct the cabinets.
The conversation dots blinked for way longer than usual.
KYLIE: Speaking of Mason...
Gabi groaned.
GABI: Must we?
KYLIE: He just called. He wants your number.
What? What? Why?
GABI: What? Why?
Her entire body flushed, and she felt that stupid zing in her stomach again.
KYLIE: Because he thinks you’re beautiful and he wants to kiss you.
She hated that she wished that were true. She hated even more that it wasn’t.
GABI: No. Really.
KYLIE: So he can get ahold of you for the design, duh. So can I give it to him? I didn’t want to without your permission.
She appreciated that. She really did. But did she want the sexiest man on the planet to have her number? Yes. YES. The answer was definitely, unequivocally, yes.
GABI: I suppose so, since it’s for business only.
KYLIE: Right. Business. Anyway, I’ll be back to the office in about an hour. Can’t wait to show you the ad designs.
GABI: I can’t wait to see them, see you soon.
She set the phone down and stared at it. Fuck, now she had the added stress of wondering when and if Mason would actually text her. How was she going to get any work with that hanging over her?
She dropped her head to the desk with a groan.
Mason
Mason smiled when Kylie’s text with Gabi’s number came through. Finally. It had taken way more convincing than he thought it would. At least he knew Kylie was a good, if overprotective, friend.
But when to text? He didn’t have anything at the moment he needed to talk to her about. And he wouldn’t need to until the wood he ordered came in.
But, Christ almighty, he wanted to.
He decided to wait a while, but entered her into his contact list with a smile that could only have been described as lascivious.
“Hey, man,” Cruz said, coming into the workroom in a jacket and tie. He had been at a meeting with Veronica’s probation officer all morning and looked harried at best.
“Hey.” Mason put his phone down to give his friend his full attention. “How did it go?”
Cruz pulled at his tie until it loosened. “Well, nothing will go on her permanent record, so that’s good. But she’s under house arrest for two months and probation for a year.” He plopped onto a stool looking as if he had been drained of everything.
Mason’s heart lurched for him. He was a good guy. And Veronica was a good girl deep down, she was just confused and lashing out. “I’m sorry, man.” He meant it.
“Thanks. I just don’t know what to do with her for two months. I mean, it’s summer, how am I going to make sure she stays home?”
Mason thought for a moment. “Can she have a job?”
Cruz let out a weird laugh. “Sure, as long as it’s approved by her probation officer, but I can’t imagine Veronica slinging burgers. She’s a princess.”
“What if I hire her here?”
Cruz’s eyes widened.
“You know, just to watch the showroom so we can get some more work done back here.”
He started to argue, but Mason continued, getting excited about his idea.
“Think about it, she’d be here where you can watch her, it wouldn’t be terribly difficult, and she could make a little money while she’s at it. It could be a win-win-win for all of us. Especially now that Mrs. Finch seems to want me to create every piece in her house.”
Cruz was silent for a moment as he thought about it. “Well, it would allow me to keep an eye on her.”
Mason nodded.
“And it would keep her away from her ‘friends.’”
“And teach her valuable job skills.”
A smile started to form on his lips, and he stood up from the stool. “This could work,” he said, his voice livelier. “Are you sure, though? She can be frustrating at her best.”
Mason shrugged. “Eh, I’ve figured out a way to put up with you.”
Cruz smiled and shook his head. “Thank you. For always finding ways to help me.”
“It’s no problem.” He was just grateful that he could. “Better let me ask her, though.”
Cruz laughed and shrugged out of his jacket. “Yeah, if I bring it up, she’ll never do it. Everything I say is automatically estupido.”
Mason laughed. “I’ll stop by your house later, bring some pizza. How does that sound?”
“Amazing,” he answered honestly. “I’m pretty sure everyone is tired of my mac & cheese by now.”
“It’s a deal. Now, come take a look at these designs for me, will you? I’m going to need your help on the Finch house.”
“That’s the one Kylie and your redhead are working on, right?”
His redhead. He liked the sound of that way too much. So did his cock. “Yeah,” he tried to sound unaffected. “The owner loves our work and wants AdamsMade to do almost all of the woodworking and pieces for the home. I’m even doing the bannister.”
“Bannister?” Cruz asked incredulously. “I didn’t know you knew how.”
He shrugged. His history with bannisters was short and fraught with mistakes, but he was willing to learn new things just to spend more time around Gabi. Shit, what was wrong with him? “It’s good exposure. Mrs. Finch’s connections could secure us for the end of time. Then we could expand like we want.”
“Right,” Cruz deadpanned, pulling the stool over to look at the designs. “And this has nothing to do with the redhead’s fine ass.”
Hearing Cruz talk about Gabi’s ass irritated him way more than it should. He forced the desire to clock him away and grinned instead. “Well, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t help make up my mind.”
Cruz laughed.
“Laugh it up, cabrón,” he said, slapping Cruz on the back. “You do realize that this means you get to see more of Kylie too, right? You know, the blonde with big tits?”
Cruz sighed. “You mean my angel, my future wife?”
“Sure, man.” He shook his head and handed the designs to him. He realized with some surprise that his friend was actually in love with Kylie. For a long time he thought it was just a joke, but he didn’t think so anymore. Kylie could do a lot worse than Cruz. He was an upstanding, devoted family man, a gifted artist, exceedingly intelligent, and according to many females “devastatingly handsome.”
Maybe he would have to play matchmaker just a little bit. He had zero experience in the area and a hard stance against it usually, but this made some sort of weird sense.
Also, he could enlist the help of his redhead. That definitely made him smile.
“Querido!” Cruz’s mother greeted him that evening, pulling him in for a suffocating hug. He struggled to breathe, but it was good to see her so healthy. Last time he was here, she had been bedridden for weeks.
“And you brought dinner?” she asked, taking the pizza from his hands. “You are an angel, you know that?”
He laughed. “How are you, Mrs. Fernandez? You are looking beautiful this evening.”
She blushed. “Oh, shush, you are not supposed to tell an old woman lies.”
“Hey, man,” Cruz greeted him with a handshake, and Veronica bounded down the stairs after, her eyes widened when she saw Mason and fully flu
shed.
“Hi, Mason,” she said, trying to act cool. She put her foot with the bracelet on it behind the other as if she were trying to hide it.
“Hello, Veronica.”
“Come on, let’s eat while the pizza’s hot,” Mrs. Fernandez called out, drawing them all to the kitchen.
“You brought Giovanni’s?” Cruz asked, eyes wide. He rubbed his hands together. “This is why I keep you around.”
Mason chuckled, and they all settled down at the table for pizza.
By the end of the evening, he had convinced Veronica that if she took the job, she would be saving the entire AdamsMade operation. She accepted his offer and promised to start Monday. But always the clever girl, added that Cruz would need to take her shopping for new clothes.
Her brother rolled his eyes but was grateful the scheme had worked. Mrs. Fernandez was over the moon. And Mason was just glad to have helped.
He left that evening with a smile and Gabi’s phone number burning a hole in his pocket. Things were looking up.
Chapter 8
Gabi
“What do you think?” Kylie asked, spinning around in a very pink, very short dress. It was as if one of Gabi’s childhood Barbie Dolls had come to life, complete with long blonde hair and matching heels.
“You look gorgeous,” she answered honestly. Kylie had finally agreed to a date with Grant and had pulled out all the stops to prepare. Fresh manicure, blow out, all the things Gabi didn’t really care about. “He’ll be speechless.”
Kylie put a hand on her hip. “He’d better, this was not cheap.”
Gabi laughed. “I mean it, you’re stunning. Where are you going again?”
“He made reservations at Nicola’s,” she squealed, doing a little happy dance that was very Kylie.
She made an approving face. He was obviously trying to impress her. That earned him some points in Gabi’s book. And she was keeping track. No one took Kylie out without Gabi’s full approval. Nicola’s was nearly impossible to get into and had about a month-long wait-list.
“That sounds incredible. But you’ll let me know if he takes you anywhere else, right?”
“Yes, Mom,” she said. But it was warm, they always watched out for each other. “I’ll apprise you of all our movements.”
“Good.”
As if on cue, the doorbell rang and Kylie ran to the door, letting out an excited squeal. Before she flung the door open, she took a steadying breath and opened it as calmly as if she were expecting the mailman.
Grant stood there looking very much the GQ model and every bit the Ken to Kylie’s Barbie. His suit was tailored to perfection, his hair masterfully tousled, and he held an impressive armful of roses. “Kylie,” he said with a devastating grin, handing her the flowers. “You look absolutely stunning.”
She cradled the flowers in her arms with a slight flush that was rare. “Why thank you, Grant, you look pretty good yourself.”
“Hi, Grant,” Gabi said from where she was sitting on the sofa.
“Good evening, Gabi,” he replied with a nod. But his attention was firmly on Kylie.
Points for remembering her name at least.
“I’m just going to put these in water.” Kylie bounded off toward the kitchen.
In her absence, Gabi looked squarely at Grant. “Kylie says you’re going to Nicola’s tonight.”
“Yeah,” he answered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I hope she likes it. I made the reservation right after I met her. I was hoping she’d eventually agree to go.”
Points. Points. And more points.
But he didn’t need to know she was keeping track. Instead, she looked him dead in the eye and warned, “Be careful with her. Anything happens to her and I will come after you.”
He laughed for a second then went white when he realized she wasn’t kidding. He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet a bit. “Of course, you have my word.”
“Good,” she answered just as Kylie came back into the living room.
Grant’s face lit up when he saw her. “Ready to go?”
“I am.” She slid her arm through the one he offered her.
“Have fun,” Gabi told them.
Kylie gave her a little wave and Grant nodded in her direction. They were too caught up in each other for much more than that.
Once they were gone, Gabi sighed and pushed herself up from the sofa. Another Friday night at home.
It wasn’t as if she wanted to date, she didn’t even want to be out, it was just ... she didn’t know.
She locked up Kylie’s apartment and went back to her own. It was annoyingly quiet.
With a sigh, she grabbed a glass of wine and sat down to the Finch designs once again. She wanted to finalize the master suite as soon as possible so she could get the textiles and wallpaper ordered.
Of all the rooms she had designed in her life, this was her favorite. It had elements of all the things she had dreamed about since she started sketching designs as a teenager. If it were hers, it would have a far different color scheme, but this was as close as she was going to get to creating her perfect room for a while.
She couldn’t wait until she had her own house. A completely empty canvas waiting for her ideas without needing anyone’s approval was her ultimate dream.
Without really thinking about it, she pulled out her sketchpad and started roughing in some new ideas for her imaginary house. She wouldn’t admit it, but that zebrawood coffee table she saw at AdamsMade was front and center in her new living space.
She had been at it for nearly an hour when her phone buzzed.
Shook from her trance, she grabbed frantically for her phone, praying that Kylie was safe. She was ready to throw on a bra and tennis shoes should she need to rush to her aid or hunt down that smarmy lawyer.
But it was an unknown number. Heart racing for fear Matt had acquired her even newer number, she swiped the screen.
UNKNOWN: Hi Gabi, this is Mason.
Mason? That annoying thrill that always accompanied thoughts of him zinged through her body like electricity, and just ramped up her heart all the more. She pressed a hand to her chest, grateful he couldn’t see the flush creeping up her neck.
She didn’t know how to respond, so she just waited, less and less able to breathe as the minutes ticked by. How was it possible one little text could do this to her? She didn’t even know what he wanted.
Finally she just answered.
GABI: Yes?
MASON: I just got word that the walnut for Mrs. Finch’s cabinets is coming in tomorrow morning. Would you be able to stop by the shop to okay it so we can get started on the pieces?
On a Saturday?
GABI: On a Saturday?
MASON: I keep the showroom open on Saturday’s. It’s no problem if you can’t, it can wait for Monday.
No! She didn’t want that. For some reason waiting until Monday to see Mason sounded like torture.
GABI: It’s fine. I’ve got a few things to do in the morning and then I’ll drop by. Probably around 11 if that works.
MASON: That works.
GABI: See you then.
MASON: Thanks Gabi, goodnight.
GABI: Goodnight.
She set the phone down, her head spinning with one thousand thoughts. She read and re-read the text thread. There was nothing there that indicated anything special, but she couldn’t help the way her heart was responding.
He had texted her on a Friday night to see her on Saturday when it all could have waited for Monday. That meant something, right? Dammit, where was Kylie when she needed her? This needed to be dissected at least sixteen different ways.
Mason
Mason tried his damnedest not to stare at the clock every second the next morning, but he was failing fully. A few of his guys were in finishing up projects, and he ignored the sidelong glances his actions were earning him.
He didn’t owe them any explanations, especially when he didn’t have any.
At fifteen minutes
to eleven, he wandered out into the showroom and moved a few pieces around, adjusted the lighting, and added a new end table Cruz had finished the day before. That took all of ten minutes.
At five ’til, he was standing stupidly in the middle of an empty showroom, hands on his hips wondering if he needed to see a doctor. He never got this worked up over a woman. And this one didn’t even seem to care that he existed.
He grinned at the thought of changing that, and then groaned aloud when his eyes traveled to the clock again exactly one minute later.
Eleven rolled around, and even though he kept a close eye on the door, she still didn’t appear. He shuffled some papers at the desk, checked the website for new orders, and jotted a few notes for upcoming orders that he was handing off to the other guys now that he was going to be occupied with Gabi’s projects.
The door finally alerted her arrival an irritating twenty minutes later, and when he looked up to see her breeze through the door, he nearly fell off his stool.
She had clearly come from some sort of workout. Sea-blue running tights hugged every inch of her toned legs, and her form-fitting white tank top left a heart-stopping amount of skin showing. And as if that weren’t enough, sexy little wisps of hair were falling from her bouncy ponytail and curling around her neck.
Jesus. He couldn’t breathe. Not even a little bit. He wanted to take her into the back room and fuck her so hard she wouldn’t be able to work out for weeks.
The hardest thing he had ever done was stand and somehow say, “Gabi, thank you for coming in on a Saturday.”
She pursed her lips in mild irritation, but it just made him want her more. “Hello, Mason. Sorry I’m a little late, my spin class went long.”
Spin? Fuck, now all he could think of was how strong her legs must be, how they would flex and squeeze around him as he buried his tongue in her pussy. “It’s not a problem,” he told her, hoping she didn’t catch the strain in his voice. He had to clear his throat.
“Come on back,” he said, waving at her to follow him. “The order just came in this morning. It looks good.” He hated that he had to physically restrain himself from making a lame joke about showing her his wood. His brothers would have thought it was hilarious. Gabi? He highly doubted it.
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