Valentine's with the Single Dad (The Single Dads of Seattle Book 7)

by Whitley Cox

  Tori nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Shall we pop some bubbly and get this party started?” Liam asked. He grabbed the champagne from the ice bucket, then went to an empty corner of the suite. “Thought for a second we might have to kidnap you,” he said, deploying the cork. “You women and your independence and own agendas.” He clucked his tongue, grinning as he wandered back over to the table and began filling champagne flutes.

  “Mark my words, Liam, one of these days you’re going to get knocked flat on your ass by an independent woman with her own agenda, and you will fall in love and never look back,” Isobel said, thanking him for her champagne.

  Liam shook his head as he handed Lowenna her champagne. “Not freaking likely, Miss Jones. I’m a born-again bachelor, didn’t you hear? Love doesn’t exist. It’s a fabricated no—”

  “Can it!” Atlas snapped.

  Liam frowned but then shook it off and raised his glass into the air. “To Lowenna—”

  “I’ll give the toast, if you don’t mind,” Mason cut in, sidling up next to Lowenna as they all gathered into a circle, their glasses raised toward her, her heart beating wildly as tears threatened to ruin her makeup.

  Liam frowned again but nodded. “What the hell is with everybody cutting me off?”

  “It’s because a lot of what you say is annoying,” Atlas added.

  Chuckles drifted around the room, but Liam seemed to shake off the insult.

  Mason cleared his throat before lifting his glass higher into the air. “To Lowenna, the most incredible, strong, smart, creative, beautiful woman I’ve ever met. You are a warrior through and through, and you deserve only good things to come to you from here on out. Take today as a rebirth, as a new beginning. Don’t look back, only forward—to the future. May it be as bright as the sun itself. Like the glow of a billion stars. Not just a spark or a solitary flicker. Be the universe, Lowenna.”

  She glanced at him, and her lip twitched.

  His twitched too.

  She knew he was mocking Doneen and Brody’s vows.

  Snorts around the room said everyone else knew it too.

  “Good one,” Zak guffawed.

  “I don’t get it,” Mark said, glancing at Tori.

  “I’ll explain later,” she whispered.

  “To Lowenna,” Zara repeated. “Happy birthday!”

  “Happy birthday, Lowenna!” everyone cheered, clinking their glasses. Then the sound of those irritating noisemakers people usually blow for New Year’s Eve started going off.

  Lowenna grabbed a tissue from a nearby box and blotted at her eyes, unable to keep the smile from her face.

  Nobody had ever thrown her a surprise party before. Never. She found Mason standing off to the side, champagne flute in his hand. He was waiting for her.

  She approached him, pushed up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. It was difficult to wrap her arms around his neck because she was still holding her champagne, but she managed, and he deepened the kiss, wedging his tongue into her mouth, reminding her just how damn talented it was.

  Her knees threatened to buckle, but his lone arm around her waist held her in place, kept her safe, kept her standing.

  Hoots and hollers from the people behind them had them finally pulling apart, grinning as she sank back down onto her heels and stepped into his side. He looped his arm around her.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Scott whooped. “It’s like Pretty Woman. Princess Vivian! Princess Vivian!” He came up and elbowed Mason. “That the first time you’ve kissed on the lips? Hookers don’t normally kiss on the lips, right?”

  Mason glared at Scott, and Lowenna’s cheeks burned.

  “I’m kidding,” Scott said with a laugh, backing up a bit and holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m kidding. I saw you guys kiss a minute ago. Was that your first kiss?”

  Mason growled.

  Lowenna swallowed down her embarrassment and leaned into Mason for strength. “Thank you all so much for coming. I don’t even know some of you, and yet you still came to wish me a happy birthday. It just … ” She was starting to get choked up again. “It just means a lot to know that I now have friends, because I hope that even if we only met today that now, tomorrow and every day after, I can call you a friend.”

  “Do friends get to taste-test new chocolates?” Scott asked.

  Mason elbowed him.

  Lowenna burst out laughing, using her tissue to once again dab at her eyes. “They do, Scott. They sure do.”

  His smile was boyish and cheeky as he leveled his twinkling eyes at Mason. “I like her. You should marry her, or else I might.”

  Mason tightened his hold on her, squeezing a chuckle from the back of her throat. She glanced up at her man, her savior. “Was this your idea?”

  He set his champagne down on the dresser and hooked his knuckle beneath her chin, tilting her face up. “With a little help from some friends, yes. Although corny and a mock of something far worse said downstairs, I meant what I said in my toast. You only deserve good things. You only deserve wins. And you should look at today as a new beginning. Don’t look back, only forward. Don’t let your demons win.” With his knuckle still beneath her chin, he brought his mouth down to hers and brushed a light kiss against her lips. “Be the sun,” he whispered against her mouth.

  She sank into his body instantly, the hard planes of his muscles enfolding her.

  “Get a room!” Zak called out again.

  Oh! What an excellent idea.

  As she continued to kiss Mason, once again wrapping her arm around his neck, she began to hatch a new plot, an even better plot than before. She’d been unsure at the idea of Mason procuring a hotel room for them simply to get it over with, but now, after this party, after his toast and the way he was looking at her, she didn’t want to get anything over with. She wanted to start something.

  She wanted to start a relationship with him. She wanted to start a future, a forever, a happily ever after with Mason.

  Holy shit.

  She loved him.

  She loved Mason.

  Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she was in love with this man. She knew she’d been developing feelings for him, that it’d gone beyond the date-for-hire relationship they’d started out with, but it was like a baseball bat to the back of the head with the overwhelming force of how much she loved him.

  She broke their kiss and opened her eyes. Heat flicked in the dark blue of his irises.

  She was about to profess that love, overflowing hotel room be damned, when she was cut off by the chorused “Happy Birthday” song and Paige coming forward carrying the cake.

  Two candles, a three and a zero, sat burning in the middle of a gorgeous, delicious-looking round cake with gum paste flowers, white icing and beautiful, delicate detailing and piping. It had to be a Paige McPherson original. Lowenna followed Paige’s bistro on Instagram, and the woman was a dessert legend.

  They came to the end of the birthday song, the candles burning in front of her, everyone watching, waiting.

  I wish for Mason. I wish for Willow. I wish for happiness and love.

  She took a deep breath and blew out the candles. Everyone cheered and clapped, then Paige whisked the cake away to begin slicing it.

  Lowenna turned back to Mason. “Thank you again, for everything. I—”

  “Here’s the first slice for the birthday girl,” Liam said, interrupting them and handing Lowenna a plate with cake.

  Smiling, she thanked him.

  Looked like her proclamation of her epiphany would have to wait just a little longer.

  Mason pecked her on the side of the head. “This is just the beginning, babe,” he murmured. “Tonight, we’re going to dance our hearts out, and then I’m going to take you home and make good on where last night went wrong.”

  “Or”—she batted her lashes at him—“we could make good on last night sooner than tonight. Tonight could just be an encore.” She put a forkful of cake into her mouth,
pulling the spongy deliciousness off with her teeth. Oh, God, was that ever good. Rich and moist and perfectly wonderful. Paige had outdone herself creating such a whirlwind of flavors in a pastry. It was vanilla cake, no doubt about it, but the rich aroma and flecks of purple said it also had lavender in it.

  How fitting for the Lilac and Lavender Bistro, but also uniquely incredible. She’d have to consider incorporating lavender into her chocolates in the future.

  “Like now?” Mason asked.

  Oh shit, she’d been so caught up in the food, she’d completely forgotten that she just propositioned him for sex.

  She swallowed her cake and nodded. “Yes.”

  His eyes danced around the room at all the smiling, happy people before he glanced back down at her, panic in his eyes. “This isn’t my hotel room, though. It’s Mitch and Paige’s. They’re staying here tonight, as they’re both working the wedding. They just offered it up for your party. I can’t really kick everybody out.”

  She grinned at him. “Don’t worry, I have the perfect room for us.” Then she took another bite of her cake, closed her eyes and let the flavors take her away.

  18

  A deep, masculine groan filled her ear as they once again rode the elevator in complete silence. Only this time, the silence wasn’t awkward in the least. It was filled with the promise of what was to come. Pheromones and desires bounced around the small space as Mason stood behind Lowenna and buried his nose in her neck, growling and nipping at that ultra-sensitive spot right below her ear.

  She shut her eyes and leaned back into him, feeling his need for her against her butt.

  “Have I told you how fucking sexy you look in this dress?” he asked, tracing his tongue over her bare shoulder. “Though I bet you’ll look even better out of it.” His hands looped around her waist, and he moved them up to cup her breasts over her dress. Her nipples instantly pebbled, and her core tightened.

  The wedding was black tie and formal, so Lowenna had hunted high and low for the absolute perfect dress. A few years back while sifting through magazines during a round of chemo, she came upon this ultra-chic gown being worn by none other than the stunning Jennifer Lawrence.

  She’d ripped the page out of the magazine and ever since carried it around in her purse on the off chance she might one day stumble upon a knockoff in a store window.

  And she had. She’d found it. A near replica for a fraction of the price, just days after Mason had offered to be her date. Just like J-Law’s dress, Lowenna’s was silver and shimmery, low-cut in the back, a deep V in the front and with a high slit up her thigh. The straps were skimpy, but she covered her shoulders with a white faux fur shawl. Best of all, though, the dress fit her like a freaking glove. It hugged her curves, showing off everything she’d worked so hard to regain after having wasted away to a skeleton because of the chemo. Now, she had her shape back, her toned muscles and womanly figure. And this dress—although still a bit out of her price range—was worth every penny. She felt like a million dollars, and standing next to the incredibly sexy Mason in his black tux, she knew she’d made the right choice bringing him as her date.

  “You should open your gift,” he said, taking the small box from her hand and pulling on the satin bow until it released. With his hands still in front of her, he lifted the lid of the box to reveal a stunning pendant.

  She gasped, then craned her neck around to gape at him. “You shouldn’t have. Mason, it’s way too much.”

  He dismissed her protestations with a simple headshake before he pulled the necklace free, undid the clasp and looped it around her neck. “Chocolate diamonds on the outside, for the most incredible chocolatier, and an amethyst in the middle because that’s your birthstone. And the heart shape is because your birthday is on Valentine’s Day and”—he spun her around in his arms—“because I love you.”

  Holy shit.

  She was about to say something, anything, really. Even a lame thank you, but the elevator stopped, dinged, and the doors slid open. He turned her around in his arms again, and with his hand on her lower back, he encouraged her forward, taking her hand once they were in the hallway.

  “This way,” she said, finally finding some words and pulling him along, the key card for the honeymoon suite burning a hole in her sweaty palm.

  She had a small fabric bag with her necessities in it, and Mason was kind enough to carry her shawl, because right now she didn’t need it. She was burning up.

  They came to the double doors of the suite, and she waved the key card until the light flashed green and the lock clicked open.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned the latch, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  Mason let out a low whistle behind her. “This is some room you got.”

  With her lip between her teeth she surveyed the space.

  The bed was a big, beautiful four-poster with a red satin canopy, more throw pillows than there were snowflakes in the North Pole and a cream bedspread with red flowers embroidered all over it. It was a lush place.

  Doneen and Brody would be very happy spending their first night as husband and wife in this room, in that bed.

  But Lowenna was going to spend some time with Mason there first.

  She didn’t need the vanity mirror to tell her he was behind her. She felt him. Felt his heat, felt his strength and the safety and security he embodied like an intrinsic part of him. He pushed her head forward and began planting warm, wet kisses along the back of her neck, sliding his tongue over her shoulder blades and the shell of her ear.

  “Do you like the necklace?” His voice was like a zephyr in her ear.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that when she opened them, this wasn’t all some incredible dream. She stroked the pendant that hung perfectly at the top of her cleavage. “I love it, Mason. I absolutely love it. Thank you.”

  “I want to see you wearing it … and nothing else.” His hands roamed her body, exploring her curves. His fingers tried to tug at her nipples beneath her dress, but she wasn’t wearing an ordinary bra, and his grunt of frustration had her laughing.

  He spun her around, his hands sliding beneath the straps of her dress and sending them over her arms so the whole dress dropped to the floor like a pool of silver at her feet.

  His eyes crinkled at the corners, his mouth turning up in confusion. “What the hell kind of bra is that?”

  She smiled. “It’s a backless, strapless bra. See … ” She pulled one silicone side piece free from around her ribcage, and the rest of the bra popped off her chest easily and painlessly. “The things us women must do to look good.” She tossed the bra to the floor and stepped into his arms.

  “Baby, you’d look good in a paper bag. The Paper Bag Princess. I read that book to Willow all the time. Need to teach her young that a man who can’t appreciate you when you have nothing isn’t a man you want when you have something.”

  She looped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest. “I couldn’t agree more.” Up on her tiptoes, she went in for a kiss, letting him take the lead as he most often did, prying her lips open and twirling his tongue around hers like it was a lollipop he just couldn’t get enough of.

  Now there was only one layer of fabric between them—his, and she needed to rectify that immediately.

  Not breaking the kiss, she pulled her hands down from around his neck and began to unbutton his coat, then his vest, then his shirt, pulling his tie loose and unfastening his pants.

  “You got a plane to catch or something?” he murmured against her mouth, guiding them over to the big bed, his lips still on hers, his hands chasing tingles all up and down her back and the cheeks of her butt.

  She nipped his bottom lip and tugged before releasing it and replying, “No plane, just six weeks of fantasies fueling me.”

  His deep groan and the way he dipped his head and raked his teeth over her collarbone said he felt exactly the same way. That he’d been holding back for the sake of what she now re
alized was a stupid arrangement.

  “Me too, baby. Though, as I told you last night, it’s been longer than six weeks. Since that first night you came into the bar and sat down with your notebook and pen, I’ve wanted you. Dreamt of you. Fantasized about you.”

  She pulled away, her eyes hooded, her whole body on fire. “Did you think of me when you touched yourself?”

  Not an ounce of hesitation flickered in his eyes. “Every time.”

  Oh God.

  The way he said it, so unapologetic, so confident, it just made everything inside her want him more, need him more.

  The back of her legs hit the edge of the bed, and he pushed her down until she sat in nothing but a bright red G-string.

  “I want to take this slow, Lowenna,” he said, his voice hoarse and gravelly as he finished unbuttoning his shirt to reveal those abs that looked better than chocolate and ink she wanted to run her tongue over.

  He relieved himself of his coat, draping it over a chair, followed by his vest and shirt. His pants were open but hung low on his hips, that decadent line, the perfect V dipping beneath the waist, taunting her.

  He caught where she was looking and chuckled. “What would you like to do?” he asked, stepping before her, pushing her knees wide to accommodate his breadth.

  With a slight shake to her hands, she lifted them from the bedspread and rested them on his hips, holding his pants in place. Her thumbs traced along the sexy line, feeling his warm, silken skin beneath the pads.

  “I want to lick this line,” she said, angling her head forward and doing just that. Running her tongue over the ridges, tasting him. He tasted incredible. “Then I want to kiss this line.” She moved over to the other side of his abdomen and slowly peppered kisses up and down the line.

  His fingers threaded in her hair, but he didn’t apply any pressure, just pulled slightly until a warmth and slight ache on her scalp sent prickles racing down her naked back.

  She ran her thumbs back over the lines once again, then pushed his pants down, sending his black boxer briefs with them.

  His cock sprang up and slapped his belly with an audible thwack, the crown a deep, dark purple and glistening with precum. She gripped him by the base and angled him into her mouth. Her lips closed around his cock and she sucked, her eyes drifting shut for just a moment, a groan coming up from deep within her chest at just how satisfying it was to finally have Mason in her mouth, to finally taste him.