Perfect Kiss (Mason Creek Book 9)

by Lacey Black

  She blinks a few times before giving me a small smile. “We were actually going to go to that game. Grayson’s playing.”

  I nod. “I should have known that. I think he’s on my team. I just thought Trace would like it, since he’s getting into baseball. Plus, they’ll have concession stands, and all the money raised goes toward the fall decorations in the park.”

  She sits up, holding the comforter up to her chest. “If we go, does that mean we have to cheer for you? I mean, won’t everyone know…well, they’ll see us. Together.”

  I sit up and smile. “I’m pretty sure they already know, love,” I state, grabbing my phone off the nightstand and tapping on the blog post I read a bit ago. “Is Mason Creek’s most eligible bachelor officially off the market? Rumor has it a certain man in a certain political position took a certain business owner out of town for dinner and then back to his place. There have been several sightings of them together, including the one I last shared with you earlier in the week. Sounds like love is in the air once more in Mason Creek. Oh, and if she’s reading this, your shoes last night were on point!”

  Setting my phone on the bed, I find Leni just shaking her head. “Doesn’t that woman have anything better to do?”

  “Tate Michaels? No. She has no shame. But hey, she complimented your shoes.”

  Her shoulders sag just a bit. “My point is only confirmed, Malcolm. Everyone, and I do mean everyone will assume I’m there to see you at the game.”

  I almost smile. “You wouldn’t be?” I tease.

  She blinks, catching what she said. “No, I mean, as a couple.”

  I take her hand from her chest, which causes the blanket to fall. No, not my original plan, but I’m not sad about it. Smirking, I finally meet her eyes. They’re narrowed at me, as if I did that on purpose, but I can tell she’s on the verge of laughing. “To respond to your statement, yes, I realize people would make assumptions of us being a couple, so we’ll just have to put the rumors to rest once and for all.”

  A look crosses her face. It’s part confusion, part disappointment, so I lean forward and brush my lips across hers. “We’ll just have to show them that we are, in fact, a couple,” I say, linking my fingers with hers.

  “We are?”

  “We are, as long as you want us to be.”

  Leni blushes and glances up beneath her lashes. “What do you want?”

  “I want to date you. I want to not worry about hiding or what others will say. As long as we know where we stand, that’s all that matters to me.”

  She smiles. “I want that too.”

  “Good,” I reply, placing a hard kiss on her lips. “Now, let’s get ready for breakfast, and then we’ll go pick up Trace. I can’t wait to take him to the ballpark.”

  “Should I ask you about your intentions?” Grayson asks, stepping up beside me in front of the dugout. I have the perfect view of where Leni and Trace sit in the bleachers with her sister, Grayson’s twin daughters, and their parents, Lisa and Lewis.

  “Aren’t you like five years younger than me?” I quip, making him laugh.

  “So. Laken suggested I do the whole big brother speech, just to make sure you don’t hurt her big sister. I tried insisting I was staying out of it, while she threatened to cut me off. Since I like that particular activity with my beautiful fiancée, I thought we could get this uncomfortable conversation out of the way.”

  I can’t help but smile. I’ve always liked Grayson and have gotten the opportunity to work with him often since becoming mayor. He’s well liked as fire chief, thorough in his duties, and has a good rapport in the community. “Noted. I promise not to hurt your future sister-in-law, to keep you from having to beat me up after school. Deal?” I reach out my hand and wait.

  Grayson laughs, shoving his hand in mine and shaking it. “Good deal. You ready to play?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. Hattie put me at shortstop because I’m quick on my feet and good with my balls,” I state with a snort.

  “Jesus, that’s almost as bad as playing catcher because I have the best ass in town,” Grayson grumbles, shaking his head.

  A loud bark of laughter flies from my mouth. “And she’s not in the least bit shy about her objectifying her teammates.”

  “Let’s go, gentlemen,” Hattie hollers, coming up behind us and slapping our asses. “We’re in the field first.”

  Sighing, I head out to take my place at shortstop. I’m between Faith, who owns the salon, at second base and Brayden, the CEO of the bank, at third. When I reach my spot, I glance up to see Trace standing in the bleachers, waving at me. A smile spreads across my lips as I return the gesture, earning a big toothless grin before he sits down and dives back into his tub of popcorn.

  The first half of the first inning has a couple of hits, but no runs scored. We’re able to secure three outs in the first five batters, bringing us up to bat. I’m third in the line-up, so I find a bat that will hopefully work for me and take a few practice swings. While the first batter’s at the plate, I hear a happy little voice off to the side of the dugout. “Malcolm!”

  I turn to find Trace standing behind the fence. “Hey, Champ.”

  “Are you gonna bat?”

  “I sure am,” I state, squatting in front of where he stands. “I’m up in just a minute.”

  “Will you hit it out of duh park? That’d be awesome!” he proclaims, bouncing where he stands.

  “I’ll do my best, okay?”

  “’Kay. Will you wave at me?”

  Grinning, I say, “Of course I will. Why don’t you run back and sit with your mom, yeah?”

  He nods enthusiastically. “Bye!” he hollers, bolting back to the stands.

  The crowd cheers as Tucker Simms, a local musician and mechanic, hits a line drive straight into centerfield and easily makes it to first base. I grab a helmet and head out to home plate. Spectators applaud as my name and title is announced over the PA system, so I turn and give a quick wave. I make sure to find Trace, who’s standing on the bleachers with his hands in the air, who gives me a thumbs-up.

  The first pitch is a little high, but the umpire, the high school baseball coach, calls it a strike anyway. The second pitch, I get a piece of it, but it bounces out of bounds just outside the third baseline. I move to the plate to wait for the next pitch, only to hear, “Go, Malcolm!” behind me.

  I step back and smile at the little five-year-old in the stands, who’s clearly my biggest fan today. I throw him a wave and step back up to the plate. The pitch has the perfect arch, hitting dead center of home plate when I swing. The bat cracks loudly as the ball sails high over the left fielder’s head and lands in the grass.

  I take off running toward first, quickly rounding the base and heading to second. I stand on the bag just as the ball is thrown in. “It’s a standing double for Mayor Wright,” the announcer proclaims over the cheers.

  When I look across the field, I see my little buddy standing there, jumping up and down in excitement. I throw him a wave and a smile, which earns one, not only from him, but from the woman sitting just behind him and off to the left.

  Jessa.

  Shit.

  It’s a fun, close game as we finally make it through six innings of slow-pitch softball. My team ended up winning by a run, but it could have been anyone’s game. When the game ends, we all meet at home plate and shake hands and take pictures. This is one of the things I’ve always enjoyed about my position as mayor, even if it takes forever to get through the photo part.

  “Hey!” When we’re finally finished and free to move about, I head straight for Leni and Trace. He runs and jumps into my arms. “Did you have fun?”

  The little guy nods, his lips stained blue. “Yep!”

  “What did you eat?” I ask with a laugh.

  “Cotton candy. My grandpa boughted me some.”

  “Us too!” the twins holler at the same time, big red grins on their faces.

  “Yeah, thanks, Dad,” Leni grumbles goodheart
edly over her shoulder to where her parents stand.

  “Lewis, Lisa, good to see you again,” I state, reaching out my hand and offering it to Leni’s father.

  He takes it quickly and replies, “You too, Malcolm. You played a great game out there.”

  “It was fun to do it. I hope we raised enough money for the fall decorations,” I add, giving Lisa a smile.

  “Oh, I’m sure you did. The concession stands had lines all afternoon,” she says before turning to pick up one of Grayson’s twin daughters.

  As we all slowly walk toward the parking lot, Lewis says, “Why don’t we all go to Sauce It Up for some pizza? Our treat.”

  “Dad, you don’t have to do that,” Laken quickly argues, but her comment falls on deaf ears.

  “What else do I have to spend my money on than feeding my grandkids? You kids want pizza, don’t you?” he says, his voice big and boisterous and so full of excitement. Especially because everyone knows what the kids are going to say. I’m not even a parent and I can figure it out.

  “Yeah!” Trace, Harlow, and Hayden proclaim, jumping up and down with excitement.

  I feel Leni wrap an arm around my waist and lean in. “Are you okay with that? I’d understand if you don’t want to go.”

  My arm instantly goes to her shoulder. “Are you kidding? Of course I want to go along. I mean, as long as you are okay with me going.”

  She gives me that soft little smile I’ve come to love. “I’m okay with it.”

  “Good,” I reply, bending down just enough to kiss the crown of her head.

  “We’re in, Dad. We’ll meet you there,” Leni says as Lewis and Lisa stop at the car.

  “Us too. Be right behind you,” Laken adds as they do the same.

  As we approach my own vehicle, I notice someone standing at the driver’s door wearing a painted smile.

  Jessa.

  Why is she waiting at my car? We never really had anything going on, just a handful of casual hookups, and there definitely isn’t anything between us now. There can’t be. Not when Lenora consumes my mind twenty-four seven.

  My gut drops a bit as we approach, and I feel Leni’s arm tense around me. She clearly sees the woman waiting, smiling some sort of fake, happy grin.

  “Good game, Malcolm.”

  “Thanks. It was for a good cause,” I state, holding on to Leni, even though I feel her try to pull away.

  “I made sure to make a healthy contribution,” Jessa states. Even though she’s wearing big sunglasses, I can see her eyes bouncing from me to Leni.

  Trace stands beside me and slips his little hand into mine. “We always appreciate the donations we receive.”

  She makes a purring noise in agreement and walks toward the front of my car, dragging a single finger across the silver paint, her dark red nails a stark contrast to the light paint color. “Well, I just wanted to stop by and say hello. I haven’t talked to you recently, and when I saw you heading this way, I didn’t want to leave without saying hello to an old friend.”

  An old friend.

  I know her games and that comment was meant for Leni.

  “Appreciate your support, but we have to get going. We have dinner plans,” I state, stepping around to the back door to help Trace get into his booster seat.

  “Oh, yes, I’m sure you do. One happy little family.” She says the words sweetly, but I know Jessa well enough to know she doesn’t mean them. She’s a snooty bitch, who’s used to getting her way. The fact that I’m here with Leni and Trace is clearly annoying her. It’s practically written all over her Botoxed face.

  “Have a nice night,” I say, finally looking away to make sure Trace is secured in the seat.

  I hear the click of her heels as I shut the door and turn to Leni. She’s staring at me with a look of uncertainty on her face. I step forward, and place my hands on her hips. “Sorry about that.”

  Leni rests her hands on my chest and shrugs. “Why are you sorry? It’s a public place, and you two are friends.” There’s something resembling worry that flashes through her eyes.

  I hum, bringing her forward until our chests touch. “I wouldn’t call her a friend, Leni.”

  Again, she shrugs. “But you know her. We both know how. She’s in your past, right? We all have pasts, including me. It’s nothing to dwell on or apologize for. You can’t control her actions any more than you can control the weather.”

  I press my lips to hers. “I don’t deserve you, but I sure as fuck want to keep you.”

  She chuckles and kisses me back with a quick peck. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.”

  “Let’s go meet your family for pizza. They’re probably wondering where we are,” I say, opening up the passenger door.

  “I don’t know how any of the kids could still be hungry. Trace ate a pretzel with cheese, popcorn, and a bag of cotton candy,” she replies as she slips inside my car.

  “He’s a growing boy, Lenora,” I state, bending down so only she can hear, “like me.”

  Leni glances down to my crotch and shakes her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

  Smiling, I practically run around to my side of the car and hop in, eager to go to dinner with her family.

  Who would have thought?

  Me.

  Playboy Malcolm Wright.

  Single bachelor for life.

  Except that feels like forever ago.

  Now, there’s a new version of me.

  One that has a girlfriend, who just so happens to have a son.

  I seem to like him a whole lot better.

  Chapter 20

  Leni

  It’s Monday morning, and my first client just so happens to be Jessa Donaldson. I’ve been dreading this job since I opened my calendar this morning after dropping Trace off at school. Jessa’s on a bi-weekly whole house schedule, and even though I’ve cleaned her house since that first time Malcolm and I ran into her in the park, I’m not really looking forward to it today. There was something in her eyes last night, even though I couldn’t see them directly. It was in the way she knowingly watched Malcolm and me, the way she touched his car, and the words she spoke. All I can hope is that she’s lounging by her pool again today like she was two weeks ago when I was here.

  As I pull into her gated driveway, I see luck isn’t on my side.

  Jessa’s standing out front, wearing heels that probably cost more than I make in a month and a sleek jumper that appears to have fallen out of the pages of a fashion magazine, and watering her gorgeous flowers. She turns and watches me as I park behind her Mercedes SUV, not bothering to greet me as I get out of my car. Of course, my vehicle is nothing like the expensive one in front of me. Mine is several years old and is starting to rust around the left rear fender.

  “Good morning, Jessa,” I greet chipperly, moving to my trunk to get my totes.

  “Lenora, I think we need to talk.”

  I stop and turn, startled to see how close she got without me hearing her move in those heels. “Sure. What’s up?”

  She crosses her arms over her chest, sharp, manicured fingernails tapping on her arm like an eagle talon. “I don’t think this is going to work anymore.”

  Her statement catches me off guard. “Excuse me?” I stammer, unsure I heard her correctly.

  “This. It won’t work.”

  “Okay,” I say slowly, trying to comprehend. “Why?”

  She smiles, but it’s not a pleasant grin. There’s malice and arrogance written clearly on her beautiful face. She’s not even trying to hide it. “Well, to be honest, I feel it would be awkward for us when Malcolm tires of you and comes back to me.”

  All I can do is blink. Repeatedly.

  “Let’s face it. He’s not the settling down kind. Sooner or later, he’s going to get tired of you roping him in to playing Daddy in your little family fantasy, and he’ll realize where he belongs. With me. He always comes back to me. Always.” She smiles, her perfectly straight, white teeth in a sneer.

  I open
my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. As much as I want to let her have it, tell her he’s not going back to her, doubt has the words dying on my lips. Because as much as I want to believe he’s with me to stay, there’s always that niggle of insecurity in the back of my mind, telling me I’m way beneath him. That I’ll hold him back.

  Malcolm has much bigger political aspirations than just being mayor of Mason Creek. He mentioned governor or senator, and let’s be honest, a cleaning lady doesn’t exactly make for the best arm candy.

  But someone like Jessa? Beautiful, refined, and having enough money to finance whatever campaign he set his sights on? Yeah, she’s a much better fit for fundraisers and television appearances.

  Even if she is a raging bitch.

  “Let’s not make this awkward, shall we? I’ve written you a check for today’s cleaning services,” she says, holding out an envelope.

  I take the payment, mostly because I really have no clue what to do. “Thank you,” I mutter, shutting my trunk and heading for the driver’s door.

  “It’s a shame this had to happen,” she says, before I’m able to shut to door. “You really are exemplary at your job, Leni. It’s a shame you had to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. You’re a cleaning lady, a plaything in cheap shoes. It would be best if you remember that in the future.”

  She turns and walks away, leaving me sitting there, dumbfounded and sick to my stomach. Somehow, I get myself secured into my seat, the car started, and backed out of the driveway.

  Now what?

  My next job isn’t until ten thirty, which leaves me with more than two hours before I need to be anywhere.

  So that’s what I do. I drive around, trying to comprehend what just happened and why her words bother me so much.

  What a day. It turned into one of the longest I’ve had in a long time.

  After I picked Trace up from school, he worked with me for two hours at the laundromat, selling cleaning supplies and visiting with neighbors who stopped by to chat. Once I was finished with my time downstairs, my mom stopped by to help get Trace dinner, a bath, and ready for bed, while I went back out to work.