I tried for a little damage control. “I’m glad you came over though. Maybe I’ll see you again tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you around.” She smiled, but her answer was clearly noncommittal and ruined hopes that she’d actually seek me out.
But for some reason, I couldn’t let it go. So I tried again. “Want a ride to Colby’s Sunday?”
“I’m riding with Isla.” She glanced back and added, “But you can catch a ride with us if you want.”
And somehow that little offer restored some hope. “Sounds good.”
I followed her upstairs and as she stepped outside, the breeze off the ocean lifted her dress, exposing her ass, pink panties with tiny hearts, and my raging desire to once again rip that joke of a dress off her.
She slammed her hand against her backside, attempting to push the lightweight fabric down, then spun toward me, completely wide-eyed, as I emerged from the last step.
Her look of shock and horror made me grin. “If you want, I can be a gentleman and pretend I didn’t see anything.” Which was a huge lie since I’d been basically at ass-level when her dress flew up and was already running a slo-mo replay in my head.
Her tan cheeks turned a light shade of pink. She covered her eyes with her hand and mumbled, “Oh God.”
“The hearts are a nice touch, by the way.”
And she laughed. Which was kind of a relief.
“I can’t believe you saw that,” she said while shaking her head. “Well, now that you know what I’m wearing under my dress…I think I’ll say goodbye.”
I chuckled and watched as she stepped off the boat—very careful of her dress—and onto the pier.
No doubt I’d enjoyed the peek under her dress, but things were already a bit off with her after my phone call. Add in something embarrassing, and she may avoid me indefinitely. Which was something, now more than ever, I couldn’t let happen. I knew I had to make light of the situation, and our earlier old married couple jokes seemed to lighten her up, so I hoped they’d work now.
“I’m not gonna lie.” I leaned against the wall of the cabin and unabashedly checked her out. “It really ended the night on a high note for me. With our impending divorce hanging over us, I appreciate you trying to put a spark back into things.”
I’d caught her off guard, and for a second I thought she might laugh, but then she fell into character, flashed her sweetest smile and said, “You’re welcome. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a terrible headache.”
And I couldn’t deny how happy I was to hear her play along. “Wow, that’s cold. I thought we were reconciling.”
“Sorry, but I don’t reconcile on the first date.”
“So this was a date, then?” I held my breath, unsure if I pushed it too far with the flirting, but then she grinned.
“What do you think?”
“I think one day we’re going to laugh about your heart panties and our first date.”
She smiled and shook her head. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Are you kidding? We’re going to be sharing this story with our grandkids.”
“I don’t think our future grandchildren need to know anything about what’s going on under my dress.”
I smirked because she’d totally set herself up for this one. “So…we will have grandkids?”
“Oh my God. You’re too much. Go to bed, Mason.” She turned to head into her cabin and called over her shoulder, “And quit talking about my underwear.”
“I’ll stop talking about them, but no guarantees I can stop thinking about them.” Which wasn’t a lie. I’d already committed the image to memory.
She laughed again. “Good night.”
I smiled as I watched her disappear inside. “ ’Night, Felicity.”
Chapter 5
Felicity
I wasn’t intentionally avoiding Mason. In fact, every time I got on or off my boat a part of me was hopeful that he’d be there, but our schedules never seemed to be in sync, which was probably a good thing. Colby’s fish fry was only a few days away, and it was best to keep my distance until then. Mostly because Mason was pretty tempting.
It’d been established upon first meeting that he was cute, but now that I’d had a chance to talk with him, I was even more intrigued. He was funny, and totally the kind of guy I’d like to spend free time with. But after that phone call on his boat, my first priority was figuring out who the pretty brunette in that picture was. He sure did answer his phone quickly when her face popped up on the screen. I hated to jump to conclusions but couldn’t help wonder if it was his girlfriend. Either way, talking to her put quite the smile on his face. And before I’d ever consider pushing things further with him, I’d have to get to the bottom of his relationship status. Hopefully, I could do just that at Colby’s.
“Hey, neighbor.”
Of course, when I’d given up all hopes of running into Mason and stopped watching for him, he show up.
I’d spent the afternoon taking pictures of Hope for her baby album. It was fun to help her document her pregnancy, and I loved spending time with her, but thanks to my hormonal and indecisive sister, we’d spent over two hours trying to get the right shot. The only good part was I got to try out some different camera modes and experiment with natural light, but now I was exhausted and ready for an activity that required zero mental presence on my part. But Mason, well, just one look at him consumed all brain activity.
I shifted my camera bag and smiled up at him. “Hey.”
He walked to the boat’s railing and leaned against it. “So any idea where I could do some laundry around here?”
I stopped between our two boats and pointed toward the main road. “There’s a laundromat not too far from here. Off Conch. Just go down Ocean and make a right at the second light. You can’t miss it.”
“Cool, thanks.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, one more question, and no judgment.”
I laughed. “Um, okay.”
“Any idea how you actually do laundry?”
I blinked. “You’re kidding, right?”
With an adorable little grin, he shook his head. “My mom still does mine.”
“Serious—”
“Hey, no judgment.”
“Sorry.” I bit back a smile. “Um, do you have detergent?”
His smile widened. “Went and bought some today.”
“Well, that’s the first step.” I hopped onto my boat. “I actually have some to do myself. Let me put up my stuff and we can go together.”
He perked. “Really?”
“Sure, why not?” At least he was trying to learn. “I’ll be right back.”
I went into my cabin and put my camera case on the counter then grabbed the canvas bag inside my hamper and pulled the drawstring closed. Usually, I did laundry at my parents’ house since it didn’t cost anything there, but I didn’t mind paying a few bucks if it meant I got to hang out with Mason.
When I stepped back out, he was waiting with a mesh bag and his laundry soap. It took everything in me not to laugh at how adorably helpless he looked.
“Ready?” I asked.
“I think so.” He slung his bag over his shoulder and dug car keys from his pocket. “I can drive.”
“Okay.” I followed him to his car, and we tossed our bags in the backseat.
Compared to some of my other guy friends, his car was surprisingly clean. Like he-must-get-it-detailed kind of spotless, and being someone who appreciated organization, I totally admired this level of cleanliness.
He started his car. “So you said two lights up and a right on Conch?”
“Yep.”
He pulled onto Ocean from the marina parking lot. “Did you work today?”
“I actually had the day off, and hung out with my sister.”
“Cool. We only had a half-day charter. It was nice to get back a little early.”
“And it gives you time to catch up on your laundry.” I grinned.
“You probably think I’m like the biggest momma’s boy now, don’t you?” He shot me a side glance. “My parents live about twenty minutes from campus. It was easier to take my laundry when I went home to visit. And my mom, I don’t know, just does it. I think it makes her feel like I’m not too old for her or something.”
“Hmm, okay.”
He grinned. “Fine. I also let her do it because I had no desire to do my own laundry.” He glanced at me again. “Guess I should have at least paid attention once or twice, huh?”
“That might have been a good idea.”
He pulled into the small parking area in front of the Coin Wash. We hopped out and grabbed our bags. “So is this where you wash clothes?”
“I do it at home usually.”
He held the door open.
“But my mom stopped washing my clothes years ago,” I teased.
“Well, between you and me, we’re going to keep this whole outing secret. I have a good thing going. Don’t want to ruin it with my mom figuring out I can do my own laundry.”
Sitting in the chairs near the entrance, was a girl reading a book. Another woman was loading a dryer in back, so we headed toward the middle and found two empty washers.
He dumped the contents of his bag into the first machine.
“What?” He looked at me. “Was that wrong?”
“Some people like to sort lights and darks.”
He glanced inside his machine. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Your white shirts turn pink.”
“The guys on the boat will love that.”
“As long as you don’t have a red sock hidden in there, you should be fine.”
He shrugged. “I should be good, then.”
Since pretty much everything I owned was a light color, I didn’t bother sorting my clothes either. “I’m going to get some change.”
“Hey, you’re helping me. The least I can do is buy you a”—he glanced at the wash settings—“uh, normal wash with power rinse.”
I laughed. “It’s okay. I needed to buy some detergent, anyway. Since I usually wash at home, I don’t have my own.”
“Just use mine.” Mason glanced around. “Shit, I left it in the car. You want to run and grab it and I’ll get change for both of us?”
“I really don’t mind—”
“I’m buying.”
I smiled. “Okay, if you insist.”
He handed me his car keys then headed over to the change machine.
After getting the soap, I turned to head back inside and spotted the girl from the front standing next to Mason. She’d opened the dryer door next to where he stood and was saying something to him.
He was smiling as he scooped up his change and shoved it in his pocket. It was probably a good quality to be sociable, but must every girl gravitate toward him? It wasn’t like we were dating, but we had walked in together. Shouldn’t she assume we were an item and stick to her own damn side of the place? Then again, maybe she was being friendly, and I seriously needed to tone down my cattiness.
I pulled the door open as Mason started to turn around. The girl had just lifted her basket when something red fell to the ground. Of course, fell was an understatement because I was pretty confident I’d seen her nudge it from her basket.
“Uh…” Mason pointed to the floor. “You dropped something.”
I made my way to the washing machine, trying not to be too obvious, but couldn’t stop staring at the spectacle.
The girl bit her lip and made some sort of ridiculous pouty face. “My hands are full. Would you mind?”
Mason stooped and picked up a tiny strip of fabric, while I fought every urge to scream: “Are you kidding me?”
I rolled my eyes and finally turned away. While I fiddled with the knobs on my washer, the girl giggled as if embarrassed—which everyone knew was an act—then she thanked him.
When Mason walked up next to me, I muttered, “Thank goodness you were there to save the day.”
He laughed and pulled the change from his pocket. “No kidding. There’s no way she could have picked it up and carried that basket.”
“Looks like she’s almost done. Maybe you should help her out to her car.” I untwisted the cap on the detergent.
“I’d rather help you.”
“Sorry, left all my tiny, lacy thongs at home.” I lifted the lid of the washer and started filling the detergent cap with soap.
He leaned in and whispered, “Well, if you ever do find yourself needing help with anything tiny and lacy…or covered with hearts, I’m your man.”
I glanced at him and found him watching me with a little smirk. Goosebumps raced down my arm but came to a dead halt as blue liquid overflowed from the measuring cup and onto my fingers. Crap. I flipped it over, pouring the contents over my laundry.
He chuckled and plucked the cup from my hand. “How much should I use?”
The warmth in my face spread down my neck, so I stared at the measuring cup to avoid eye contact. “Just fill it to the second line.”
Mason’s arm brushed my side as he reached around and grabbed the detergent.
Trying to act totally unaffected by his nearness, I lined the quarters up then slid them into the machine, set my dials, closed the lid and pressed start. Then I did the same for him.
He’d stepped to the side, giving me room to move, but I could feel him watching me. And something told me it had nothing to do with learning how to use a washer.
After pushing the start button, I glanced at him.
His mouth tugged up. “And that’s it?” he asked.
“Yep. Not much to it.”
“So I guess now we hang out?” He looked toward the chairs in front, which happened to be next to where that girl was folding her laundry, then back to me, seemingly unsure if I wanted to venture into her territory.
“We can sit down.” I made my way over to the chairs, in an attempt to prove I wasn’t bothered by some other girl.
Mason followed and sat next to me. His phone chimed in his pocket and he pulled it out, read the screen then started typing.
Since he was busy texting, I grabbed a book from my purse, flipped it open and tried to focus but ended up reading the same paragraph three times, thanks to Miss I-can’t-pick-up-my-own-underwear and her inability to stop staring at Mason.
If he noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it as he sent his messages. And I couldn’t deny how happy that made me.
He finally finished and shoved his phone back in his pocket. As if that was her cue, the girl made a big show of trying to juggle her basket and detergent—which for some reason she couldn’t simply set on top of her basket—and open the door.
I looked at Mason, knowing exactly what the girl wanted.
He grinned at me and stood. “Here, let me get that.” He pushed open the door, and the girl thanked him.
I couldn’t quite make out what else she said, but Mason stepped through the door and followed her to a car. He opened the back door and she set her basket on the seat. The girl closed the door but had her back to me, so I couldn’t see her face.
Mason listened then smiled and nodded toward the window.
The girl glanced over her shoulder and stared right at me, then she shrugged and walked around to the driver’s door.
He kept his head down as he walked back inside, but I could see the hint of a smile.
As he settled into the chair next to me, I asked, “Hot date later?”
Without missing a beat, he countered, “I dunno, do we have plans?”
I closed my book and stared at him. “Mason, we’re just doing laundry. Clearly, she was interested. You didn’t need to hold back on account of me.”
“So if I were to say she’s coming to my place later, you wouldn’t care?”
Hell, yeah, I’d care, but most guys hated when girls were jealous, always claiming they were making something out of nothing. I prided myself on not being “one of those girls” and usually I didn�
�t care. Summer Boys were nothing more than flings. As long as they didn’t flaunt it in my face, I didn’t care. But today, I had. A lot.
I’d been envious of the girl who so blatantly sought his attention. Who shamelessly flirted. Who was sexy and bold and everything I wasn’t. But instead, I shrugged and said, “No.”
He studied me, and I hoped to God I had my game face on.
He finally slouched back in his chair. “I find that incredibly disappointing.”
“Why?”
“Because if the roles were reversed, I’d care.”
“Oh.” I stared down at my book, not really sure what more to say.
“Truth is, sometimes in those early-morning hours when the sky’s still dark and we are heading out for the day, I see your cabin light on. And my mind starts to wander. I think about that waiter at Eddie’s who couldn’t stop staring at you. Or that guy from the carnival who asked Colby about you. Hell, I even think about Owen and the way you two teased each other.”
“Owen’s a kid,” I mumbled. And the waiter? What waiter was he talking about? No one from work was interested in me.
He shrugged. “Point is, I wonder what wakes you up at night…and hope like hell it’s none of them.”
I spun to him. Was he serious right now? He was the one who always seemed to have girls hitting on him. He’d never so much as seen me with another guy; I should be the one who was worried. But…I’d said I wasn’t.
He went on. “I guess I’d hoped this wasn’t totally one-sided.” His gaze flicked to my lips then slowly came back up to my eyes. He leaned forward ever so slightly, and my body seemed caught in the pull. “So what do you think, Felicity? Is it?”
His eyes were so dark. Mesmerizing. And when he lowered his voice like that, my brain turned to mush. I held my breath as his hand moved toward my face and he inched closer.
A dryer buzzed, yanking me from the trance, and I straightened in my chair.
What was I doing? I couldn’t kiss him. Thirty minutes with Mason and I was breaking all my rules and, hello, he might have a girlfriend. Dammit.
I stood. “We should probably check to see if our clothes are done. I’ll be right back.”
The washer was still running, as I knew it would be, but I took the opportunity to pull myself together. Just because I was interested in Mason, didn’t mean I had to lose myself in the process. The rules were in place for a reason. To keep myself from getting hurt and to avoid hurting others along the way. Keep things light, simple, fun.
Just a Little Kiss Page 5