“Angel, I’m afraid I would stay with you every night if you wanted me to.”
“Please don’t let him hurt me,” she says so softly that I almost missed it.
Angel
I lie in bed feeling better than I should. How many drinks did I have? I try to piece together the events of last night, but it’s a blurred memory. I head into the bathroom and find my dress and shoes strewn on the floor. I look in the mirror and find I also feel better than I look.
I shower quickly, get the day-old mascara off my eyes and slip on a tee shirt and a pair of yoga pants. I apply some moisturizer to my face, brush my teeth, and pull my hair up into a high ponytail.
Bacon? Taking another whiff, is that bacon and coffee I smell? Shit, Mason. I thought I dreamed that. Did I really ask Mason to stay the night with me? Crap, what else did I say to him?
I cautiously open the bedroom door and find Mason standing with his back to me, at the stove making breakfast. I just stand there and admire him. Damn, if he doesn’t look dreamy. He is dressed in the same clothes as last night but his hair is wet. I notice the pillow and blanket folded up lying on the couch. He slept on the couch. My heart warms that he would stay. Why would he do anything drunken Angel would ask? Drunken Angel will say almost anything. I really need to not drink so much around him.
“Good morning, Handsome,” I say, walking up to him.
I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him, but he picks me up off the floor until we are eye and eye and kisses me on my lips. I kick my feet behind me and squeal from being scooped up off the floor.
“Good morning to you, Gorgeous.”
He winks at me and kisses me again before placing me back on my feet.
Looking around the room, I ask, “Who are you talking to?” before reaching for two coffee mugs from the cabinet.
“I’m talking to you, who else?” he says, filling the mugs with the coffee he’s already brewed.
“Since when do you call me Gorgeous?” I ask handing him his coffee mug. “I was just starting to get used to Beauty.”
“Since someone wakes up in the morning with a hangover looking as gorgeous as you do.”
And there is it. He just stole my breath away with just a few words. How on earth can he do that?
“Thank you. That is so sweet of you,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist as he leans down and kisses the top of my head.
“I hope you don’t mind. I made myself at home on the couch and showered. I found a new toothbrush in the linen closet and used it,” he says while turning the bacon over.
“No, of course I don’t mind. I’m sorry I asked you to stay with me last night. I guess I didn’t want to be alone,” I say, putting the bread into the toaster.
“Angel, don’t be sorry. It’s nice waking up and cooking breakfast with you.”
“This is very much a couple’s thing we’re doing.”
“Yes, it is. Can I tell people I stayed all night with you, now that we’re a couple?”
He smiles while breaking the eggs into the skillet.
“If I can tell people that you were the worst lay I have ever had, and that I had to finish by myself because you couldn’t hang,” I say, smiling sweetly and buttering the toast.
He spews the coffee he was drinking all over himself. It comes out his nose and runs down his chin. He takes a paper towel off the counter to wipe the coffee off his face and shirt.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he says, still wiping the coffee from his face and shirt.
“Do you wanna try me?” I tease, putting the bacon, eggs, and toast on the plates.
“Let’s eat, Beauty, before I show you who can’t hang,” he laughs and shakes his head.
“Sounds great, Handsome,” I say, adding more coffee to the mugs.
We sit at the table to eat. We talk nonstop about his new office for his practice and his beach house and its anticipated completion date. I ask him what we are doing Saturday, and he laughs and refuses to tell me. He says it’s some big surprise. He asks what time I want to pick up my new weapon and if I want to shoot at moving targets. I excitedly answer yes. I tell him I have to be at my cooking class at 6, but I’m free until then. We clean up and I change into jeans and heels before we head out together. He wants to go by his house first and change his coffee-stained clothes.
Opening the front door and walking out into the Florida sunshine, I see the same SUV that was parked on the other side of Josephine and Carl’s the other night sitting across the street. Mason opens the car door for me and the SUV pulls off. I am becoming quite accustomed to this kind of treatment from him. He is going to ruin me for anyone else. His mother would definitely be proud of the man her son has become.
We drive to his condo near the marina. I am surprised to see that he lives in the penthouse. He holds the door open wide for me and waits for me to enter. I walk into a very spacious foyer and see a table to the left of the door against a gray color wall. On it sits a glass vase of red roses and baby breath flowers and a beautiful crystal glass bowl. Above the table is a painting of a sailboat sailing on a beautiful summer day. The colors in the sails are so vibrant with reds, yellows, and blues. To the right of the foyer is all open floor plan of living space. The entire space is painted with pale gray walls and black marble floors and black granite counters. A large solid gray area rug lies in the center of the living room. The couch and oversized chair with ottoman are black leather and very modern; they face a very large gas fireplace and mantle. Above the mantle is another large canvas painting with abstract colors. It may be painted by the same artist, but I can’t be sure.
“These are beautiful paintings — a local artist?”
“Yes, my mother, Lilly. Sometimes I take it for granted at how talented she really is.”
“Wow, she is very good. These are so beautiful.”
“Thank you. She only paints for pleasure now. At one time she was going to make a career out of it.”
“Oh, what changed her mind?”
“She wanted a family, so she put her art work on hold. She still sells some of her paintings to local buyers, but mostly she paints as a hobby. My sister, Madison, is equally talented.”
“Would you like something to drink, and please make yourself at home? I just want to change before we head out.”
“Your home is very lovely and no, I’m fine, thank you,” I say as I walk over to look out the wall-to-wall windows overlooking the marina and a kissing statue. “I love that statue.”
He walks over to me and wraps his arm around my waist, while looking outside at the view. “Me, too — it’s the main reason I bought this place. At night when the lights shine on it, it looks like it glows. This view is beautiful day or night.”
“I can see why,” I say, smiling up at him.
“I’ll be right back, Beauty. There’s bottled water in the fridge if you change your mind.”
I walk into the brightly lit kitchen from natural sunlight. It is all so modern with top-notch stainless steel appliances. In the dining room there is a round glass table top with four black cloth high-back chairs.
This is definitely a manly home. All modern and stark. I could do wonders with this space.
Mason enters the room dressed in jeans and a tee. He is carrying the same backpack that he brought to the gun range before.
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long? Are you ready to become a gun owner, Beauty?” he says, grinning.
“I am ready, Handsome, lead the way. Are you shooting today, too?”
“I thought I may need the practice after seeing you the other day,” he says, heading towards the door.
We arrive at Young Guns and Safety and the salesman knows me immediately.
“We have your gun ready for you, Miss Perez.”
“Great, thank you.”
I smile at Mason and we look around the store while we wait for the salesman to retrieve my gun.
The salesman lays the box holding my newly purchased gun on the counter and
opens the lid for me. My heart starts to pound and my palms become sweaty. I wipe my palms on the front of my jeans before looking into the box. The black Smith and Wesson 38 Special I picked out is stored neatly inside the box. I try to swallow the lump that is starting to form in my throat. All of a sudden, this has become real, too real. This gun is not for target shooting or for child’s play. This gun is to save my life if I am ever in a dangerous situation. Will I be able to use it? Will I be able to shoot someone if I need to? My thoughts drift back to Jim, my dream, and the years of abuse I suffered. My body starts to shake and all I want to do is curl up into a ball and hide. I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough for this. I let him beat me for two years, so what makes me think I can do something about it now?
Someone strokes my bare arm gently, stirring me from my thoughts. I look up. Mason is looking at me with something stirring beneath his eyes. Concern, sympathy, I can’t be sure. I give him a slight smile.
“Are you all right, Beauty?”
“I’m fine.”
I am lying.
I tell the salesman, “Thank you. Would you bag it up for me, please?”
“Don’t you want to hold it or check it out first?” he asks, confused.
Mason steps forward and tells him, “Please just bag it up for her and get me four more boxes of ammo for this gun and four boxes of ammo for a Glock 17, thank you.”
Mason keeps ahold of my arm while he settles the bill and carries the weapon and ammunition out of the store to his car and locks them securely in the trunk.
He turns towards me, holds both of my arms, and asks, “Are you ok?”
The only thing I can do is nod. I can’t look at him. He holds me against his chest and wraps his arms around me. I wrap both my arms around his waist and bury my face in his chest. He kisses the top of my head before resting his chin on it.
“Please talk to me. What has you so frightened? God, Angel, I can see you shutting down. Please let me help you.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
I just stand there and let him hold me. I just want to bury myself in his strength and his scent. I feel so safe here and I never want to leave. I can’t tell him about my ugly past. He won’t understand why I stayed for so long. What if he thinks I deserved it, or I’m weak? I just can’t tell him.
He pulls away from me and cups my face with his hands. I look into his dark sad eyes. His eyes are pleading with me to tell him something, anything. I want to, but I can’t. He leans down and kisses me sweetly. He stops and rubs his thumb over my bottom lip. I close my eyes. I can’t look at him any longer.
“Angel, look at me.”
I open my eyes and look at him. He looks so desperate.
“Please, let me help you, let me be there for you. Angel, I know we can figure it out.”
His eyes are still searching mine.
“I can’t. I’m sorry,” I say in a broken voice as I look away.
I can’t look into the eyes of a man who looks so hurt. All he wants is for me to open up to him and I can’t.
He opens the car door for me, and I get in.
“Well then, let’s get you to target practice,” he says with a smile that doesn’t touch his eyes. I buckle up before he gets in. He looks over at me and says, “Good girl.” We drive the short distance to the shooting range.
“The gun range has moving targets as well as still targets,” he explains. “We are going to have you shoot at moving targets today. It’s in a bigger area and they have people and animals that dart out at you from behind doors, buildings, and trees. It’s a lot tougher to shoot at moving targets, but we need to get your shooting skills better.”
We get signed in and are directed to a different room from our previous visit. Mason hands me the box my gun is in and places his weapon out on the table in front of him. He takes the ammunition and sets it out on the table as well as the earplugs and goggles. He watches me open the box and remove my weapon. I hold it up and look at it. I already feel familiar with it. It is identical to the one of his that he had let me use. I place it on the table and tear it apart and put it back together again. He does the same. I can feel him watching me. He doesn’t say anything; he just watches. After we load the shells into our weapons, we place the goggles over our eyes, and ear buds in our ears. He takes his stance right next to me.
“Angel, the targets will pop out at us from all over the place. When you see the target, you shoot it. They will start out slowly at first, then I’ll speed it up. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Are you ready, Beauty?”
I nod and say, “I’m ready.”
The targets come out from different areas and are very hard to shoot. I miss all but one.
“That’s ok, Beauty. I told you this would be more difficult.”
He doesn’t shoot but stands there watching me.
I reload and try again, and again. I am getting frustrated. I take a deep breath and reload again.
“That’s my girl. Don’t give up; keep trying.”
I take my stance and focus on the targets, I take a deep breath and nod when I am ready. The targets come out, and I shoot all but one. I look at Mason and he is smiling at me. He nods and tells me he knew I could do it. I thank him and reload my weapon.
I take my stance and take another deep breath.
“I’m going to speed it up. Nod when you’re ready.”
I nod. The targets are faster and I shoot half of them.
“Looking good, Angel. One more time.”
I nod and the targets come faster, I still shoot half of them. I look at him and he is smiling at me. I can’t help but smile back at him.
“You did great. I am so proud of you,” he says with joy in his voice.
“Really? I missed as many as I hit.”
“You didn’t give up. You kept at it until the end and you showed improvement every time. That’s why I am proud of you.”
I lay my gun down on the table next to his and walk over to him. He wraps his arms around me and lifts me up off the ground, so we are eye to eye.
Grinning ear to ear, I cup his face and look at him and say, “I have no idea what I did to deserve you, but I thank my God, you were my blind date at the boat marina.
I pull his face to mine and kiss him. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he deepens the kiss when he kisses me back. I moan when his tongue enters my mouth. He tastes like mint toothpaste and smells like spice and sandalwood. It is a combination I would never get tired of. I run my fingers through his thick curly hair and pull him closer to me if that’s even possible. He moans and pulls away almost breathless. I open my eyes, and his eyes are still closed. He opens his eyes, and they are filled with lust. He looks from one eye to the other and back again before he kisses me again. I keep my legs wrapped around his waist and he kisses me even more intensely than before. He pulls away and leans his forehead against mine.
“Damn, Angel. I swear I could kiss you forever.”
He slowly lowers me to the ground and makes sure I have my balance before releasing me.
“I’ll be ready in one minute; put these on,” he says, handing me the goggles and earplugs.
He places his own goggles and earplugs on, takes his gun, takes his stance, and hits a button. The targets come out from every direction and at a faster pace than I have seen before and he shoots every single target. He is fluent and efficient. He lowers his gun and nods when he sees the shot-up targets.
“Wow, that’s very impressive, Mason. Not only are you good looking but very skilled as well.”
I wink at him.
“That’s nothing, Beauty. I’ve got skills you haven’t seen yet.”
He winks back at me, making me go weak at my knees. We tear the guns down and clean them, and he places his in his backpack and I place mine back in the box. He holds my hand as and we walk out to the car hand in hand. He rubs his thumb across my knuckles, which calms me.
We are sitting in the car when he asks
me what I want to do next.
“I don’t care.”
“I need to swing by the beach house first, and then how about we get some lunch over at the marina?”
“Sounds great, Handsome.”
I reach over and take a hold of his hand. He lifts my hand up to his lips and kisses it before lowering it to his lap. I close my eyes and just enjoy being with him and the warmth of his hands. He plays soft music on the radio, and we ride in comfortable silence to his beach house.
We walk through his empty beach house. The workers must also have the day off. It is even more beautiful through the day. The private beach is empty. He tells me to look around and make myself at home while he checks on something outside. I do what I do best, I look around his empty house and imagine I am his own personal interior designer. I love the wall-to-wall sliding glass doors with all the natural light a person could dream of. It would be so awesome to decorate a home like this anyway I wanted. This house is completely empty. Decorating it from start to finish would be a dream come true.
He enters the house and says he’ll be ready in a minute.
“Take your time. I’m in no hurry,” I say as I walk through the last two bedrooms and let my imagination run wild.
All the bedrooms have walk-in closets and wall-to-wall glass sliding doors that look out to the open waters. I wonder what he is doing with a beach house this size. It looks more like a family home. It is a huge house with four bedrooms, three baths, an office, family room, living room, kitchen, and formal dining room, a massive three-car garage and a large mudroom. White walls, tan granite counters, stainless steel appliances and tan tiled floors. Perfect choice for a beach house. All the rooms, including the lanai, have huge Bombay ceiling fans.
“What are you thinking about, Angel?”
I jump at the sound of his voice.
“Oh, my God, you scared the crap out of me,” I say, holding my hand against my pounding heart.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It looked like you were a million miles away,” he says, walking over to me.
He takes my hand in his and pulls me to him.
"I was just admiring your beautiful home.”
We both look out the door to the ocean and see three or four dolphins swimming.
Starting Over Trilogy Boxset Page 12