by LuAnn McLane
“Damn!” Mason turned his face up to the spray and chuckled, thinking that he should turn the water to cold. Oh, but, God, when he’d spotted that goofy pointed hat floating in the water, his blood had run icy-cold, and fingers of fear had gripped his heart and squeezed hard. Out of instinct he’d waded into the murky water, crazy with heart-thumping worry. When he’d thought to look out toward her cabin and saw lights, he’d nearly sunk to his knees with relief. Once he’d settled his heart rate down, it was in that moment that Mason knew he’d fallen completely ass-over-teacup in love with Gracie Gordon.
Not only had Gracie saved the brewery, but she’d awakened the need for him to have a woman in his life. He wanted a soft place to land, a hand to hold, lips to kiss, but he wanted a family too. He longed for the kind of love that his mother and father shared...not perfect, but strong enough to make it through the tough times. And the one thing his parents could always do was make each other laugh, sometimes at silly things that Mason didn’t even get.
While Mason couldn’t picture Gracie living the white-picket-fence, two-kids-and-a-dog kind of life, he couldn’t imagine not having her in his life either. In truth, just like his mother moving to Florida, Mason would have traipsed all around Europe or to the ends of the earth to be with Gracie. But owning the brewery tied him down, so leaving Cricket Creek wasn’t an option for him, at least not for now. And he didn’t want to leave. This was his home. But he’d live in a damned igloo, a tree house, a shoe, anywhere, just to be with her.
And now that she’d said that she loved him, hope was like a living, breathing thing dancing around in his chest.
Mason was going to take his mother’s advice, chase worry from his brain, and live each day until the days ran together and became his future.
And tonight?
Tonight he planned to make slow, easy love to Gracie until the sun came up. Or at least until they fell into an exhausted sleep, and then they’d start all over again in the morning. With that thought in mind, Mason shut off the shower, stepped onto the cold tile floor, and quickly toweled dry. After wrapping another big fluffy towel around his waist, he looked in the cabinet and found some mouthwash. Finally, satisfied that he was once again presentable, even though he smelled a bit feminine, he decided he was, yep, still up for the task.
After breathing in the coconut-scented, steamy air, he opened the bathroom door that led to Gracie’s bedroom. The chilly air hit his warm skin, but nothing could even begin to cool his ardor. With a smile, he looked over toward the bed and spotted Gracie snuggled beneath the covers. Her hair fanned out over the dark blue pillowcase and her bare shoulders peeked above the matching sheet. Anticipation, hot and potent, ran through his veins.
This had been one helluva crazy roller-coaster day.
The small lamp next to the bed cast a soft glow in the room. He noticed that she’d added some feminine touches to the basic bedroom...a candle here, a bouquet of flowers there, making Mason hope she planned on staying for longer than she’d first expected. No, he warned his worry gene. Don’t even go there.
Instead, Mason concentrated on what it was going to feel like to have Grace in his arms, to make love to her and to sleep next to her. He’d make coffee in the morning and cook breakfast before they headed off for a day at the brewery. Or perhaps they’d walk up to the bistro and have breakfast there, so Grace could chat with Sophia. When Mattie had renamed the bistro from Breakfast, Books, and Bait to Walking on Sunshine because she said falling in love with Garret made her feel that way, Mason had an eye-roll moment thinking that she’d gone a little over the top.
Now he understood.
Mason walked over to join Grace, hoping she was naked, warm, and ready for him, but when he reached the edge of the mattress, he looked down at her beautiful face and realized that she was fast asleep. Disappointment slid like a rock all the way to his toes, but he knew that after the past few days, she must be so exhausted, and that although it was killing him, Mason wasn’t about to wake her.
Mason stood there for a few moments and drank in the beauty of her sweet face. Tenderness washed over him, almost like a physical ache, and he longed to reach down and run his fingertip down her cheek and over her shoulders. He even reached out, but then pulled back, remembering that she suffered from insomnia and that sleep was precious to her.
And she was precious to him.
Mason eased his way over to the other side of the bed, telling himself that he was content just to sleep next to her, which was kind of a lie, but he told himself that anyway so he wouldn’t be tempted to give her a gentle nudge. But if she did wake up, he would be at the ready. As quietly and gently as he could, he dropped his towel and slid between the sheets. The intoxicating scent of her perfume was almost his undoing, and he had to clench his fists not to reach over and pull her against his body. He silently lifted the sheet and peeked...Dear God, she was naked.
Maybe she’d be disappointed if he didn’t wake her, the devil on his shoulder argued. I sure would be, Mason thought. He stared at the ceiling in indecision and then finally decided that he should just reach over and turn off the light. She was a light sleeper. Maybe his slight, oh-so-innocent movement would be enough to wake her up. Maybe he should just leave the light on. And maybe his worry gene should just shut the hell up!
Mason chuckled silently at the thought and then realized that he was making the mattress shake.
“Mmm...,” Gracie mumbled, then moved.
Mason smiled, thinking, Yes! She was awake. His disappointed dick responded with immediate glee, and he waited for her to reach over and put her hand on his chest or maybe dip downward to cup his...Oh damn, she was still asleep. Perhaps he should just say her name super softly so that she wouldn’t know that he actually woke her up. “Gracie,” he said in a voice not even loud enough to be considered a whisper, and held his breath, waiting. Hoping.
Gracie inhaled a sharp breath, but then started snoring. Not a loud snore, just a cute-as-hell little snore that made him smile. But then he frowned. Dammit! He resigned himself to just go to sleep and to hope that morning came really, really fast. With that decision made, he leaned over to turn out the light.
“W-what are you doing, love?” Gracie asked in a husky, sleepy British voice that was just about the sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his entire life. No, not just about; it was the sexiest sound ever made.
“Turning out the light.”
“You fancy making love in the dark?”
“No.”
“Then you don’t want to make love to me?” She sounded perplexed, still half-asleep.
“Is this a trick question?”
Gracie leaned toward him and put a hand on his chest. Ah, now they were getting somewhere. “No, love, truly, what’s going on? Do you plan on rolling over and going to sleep?” she asked in the same husky voice.
Mason laughed. “Baby, you were sound asleep.”
“I was not. I was resting my eyes while you showered.”
“You were snoring, sugar.”
“No possible way. I don’t snore,” she said firmly, but then paused and asked in a small voice, “Do I?”
“A cute little rumble that I find totally adorable.” Mason tried to give an example, but his snore sounded way worse than she did, and her eyes widened.
“Oh no!” she cried, as if snoring was the worst thing in the world. “That’s...horrible!”
Mason laughed harder.
“Stop it.” She shoved his shoulder. “It’s not one bit funny. I need to get some of those strip things to put on my stupid nose. Or maybe one of those machines. Would you quit laughing?”
Mason tried to control his laughter, but it was as if the tension of the day and his guilt over hurting her feelings came pouring out of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this hard, and he simply could not stop.
>
“I think you’ve gone stark-raving mad.”
Mason swiped at tears. “Oh God...,” he said in a voice weak with laughter. “First I wade into the river after your runaway hat and now this.” He shook his head against the pillow and then raised his index finger. “No, first I tried to flirt with that crazy bunch of ladies to get you to notice me.”
“Well, that was pretty funny.” Gracie started laughing with him. In fact, she laughed so hard that she snorted and was mortified again. “No, I did not just snort.”
“You snort and snore. I’m telling everyone.”
“No!” she wailed. “Don’t you dare.”
“I’m going to Tweeter it.”
“Tweet,” Grace corrected, and laughed harder. The mattress started shaking as if in the middle of an earthquake. “Oh, dear God,” Gracie said, wiping at her own eyes.
“Thank you,” Mason said, and then reached down and took her hand.
“For making you laugh?” she asked softly.
“For coming into my life.”
Gracie squeezed his hand. “I can’t really take credit for that, now, can I? It all started with Rick coming here to undo the mess that Garret found himself involved in. Rick found lovely Maggie. Garret fell in love with Mattie. And I’ve fallen in love with you. Funny how life works, you know?”
Mason came up to his elbow and smiled down at her. “Yes, it is.” He leaned down and kissed her gently, tasting her lips, exploring her mouth, while he trailed his fingers lightly over her soft skin. She shivered, arched her back, telling him with her body how much she wanted him. He cupped her breast and moved the pad of his thumb over her nipple, knowing by now what drove her wild with need. Mason moved his mouth to her neck, kissing, nuzzling, while letting his fingers trail lower until he found her sex. When she gasped and parted her legs, Mason dipped his finger inside her silky folds, finding her wet and ready for him. He tossed the sheet aside, pausing for protection.
Grace reached up for him and he entwined his hands with hers. He kissed her while he entered her body, and her fingers squeezed him hard. Mason moved slowly, pulling nearly all the way out and then inching back in until she wrapped those long legs around him and urged him to go faster, harder. When she cried out his name, he kissed her and thrust deeply, finding his own heart-pounding release.
Mason rolled sideways, bringing her with him.
“Well, I can tell you one thing. I’m wide awake now,” Grace said with a low chuckle.
“Good, because, baby, we’ve only just begun.”
20
Thank God I’m a Country Boy
JIMMY KNEW HE WAS A GONER WHEN THINKING ABOUT Becca made him unable to concentrate on fishing. Usually, when he was out on the lake, he stayed relaxed yet sharply focused, but that sure wasn’t the case today. Watching Becca holding and cooing to baby Lily last night was his complete and utter undoing. When Becca looked up and caught him staring, she’d given him a smile that melted his damned heart on the spot.
He loved the woman. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in his mind. But that didn’t change the fact that Becca was completely wrong for him. And while he got the impression that she intended to spend a great deal of time in Cricket Creek, Jimmy was damned well positive she wouldn’t want to live in a plain and simple cabin and ride around in a beat-up pickup truck. He knew that just wasn’t her style, but it was how he preferred to live, and he was too old to change his stubborn ways.
In truth, Jimmy had piles of money; more money than he wanted or knew what to do with. Even though he’d retired from competitive fishing, cash kept pouring in from endorsements and his extensive line of fishing products. Funny, but Jimmy knew that part of his success stemmed from the fact that he never cared about the money end of it, and so when he fished tournaments, winning didn’t make him nervous. He just liked to fish, and he was really good at knowing where the big bass were hiding and what kind of bait would catch them.
But because of how hard Jimmy’s father had worked to put food on the table and the tragic way his dad died, spending money on anything more than necessities always somehow felt wrong. So, out of guilt, Jimmy wore old boots, drove an ancient truck, and fixed his fishing poles rather than purchase new ones. And he sure as hell didn’t see any of that changing. So while he’d fallen hard for Becca, he knew that she liked the finer things in life and enjoyed extensive traveling. When he’d seen pictures of the fancy home she owned in Hyde Park, along with the flat she owned in Notting Hill, which she kept just for her kids to have somewhere to stay while visiting London, he was a little blown away. Becca casually mentioned that she was thinking of putting the house on the market or renting it out for a monthly amount that made his head spin.
Jimmy’s own pockets were deeper than most people even suspected. He wasn’t impressed by money, nor did he even care about it. Some people thought he was just a cheapskate or that maybe he’d gambled away his fortune. People talked—he knew it—but he didn’t give a rat’s ass what people thought of him. In fact, Jimmy thought it rather amusing when people suspected that he’d pissed away his fortune. The only real joy he felt in spending money had been when he spent it on his mother, and now that she was gone, his money simply sat in the bank and wherever his financial adviser put it. When statements came, he looked at the numbers with mild interest and then filed them away.
With a sigh, Jimmy used his trolling motor to weave his way to some shallow water in a hidden cove. One of the reasons he’d won so many fishing tournaments stemmed from his uncanny ability to troll into shallow water most anglers would end up getting stuck in. He cast his plastic frog over to hop along the lily pads where smallmouth bass liked to feed. But it didn’t land where he thought he’d aimed; instead Jimmy ended up snagging his line in a tree branch for the second time that morning. “Well, hell’s bells,” he grumbled when he had to cut his line, and decided he might as well call it a day. “And that was my favorite damned frog.”
After easing his way back out of the narrow passage, Jimmy opened the motor up and whizzed down the middle of the lake, hoping the wind in his face would help to clear his head. When he got near the cabins, he slowed down, intending to head over to his dock and button the boat up and maybe go back out and catch the evening bite.
After a cool morning, warm sunshine glinted off the lake, making the water look as if diamonds were dancing around playing tag. The trees were changing colors, turning the shoreline into a gorgeous display of orange, red, and gold leaves.
Jimmy felt the weight of sadness grip him, because he knew that he needed to have a talk with Becca. They’d come close to making love, and he didn’t want to cross that bridge and then tell her that they needed to break things off. He inhaled a deep breath and blew it out. No, he needed to be honest and tell her now. Taking their relationship to the next level would only end up in disaster, and he cared way too much about her to inflict any kind of emotional pain. While they enjoyed each other’s company and chemistry, they weren’t a good fit as a couple, and so they’d be much better off in the end if they broke things off now and could remain friends. He wanted her to know that she could count on him, come to him for anything she ever needed.
Jimmy turned his face up the light blue sky and shook his head, thinking that he had to be out of his ever-lovin’ mind to break off a romantic relationship with the beautiful Becca Gordon. But he needed to give her the let’s-be-friends speech before it was too late.
Jimmy looked over to her cabin, and as if on cue, Becca walked out onto her back deck and waved to him. He waved back and a moment later his phone pinged. He looked down at the text message from Becca inviting him over for lunch. Jimmy almost declined. The thought of telling the woman who had managed to capture his heart that he wanted to be just friends wasn’t something he wanted to do, but he decided that rather than brood about his decision, he might as well face the music. He sent a message back t
hat he’d be right over and drove his boat across the lake.
While Jimmy tied his boat to the cleats on Becca’s dock, he rehearsed the let’s-be-friends-and-nothing-more speech in his head. But when he saw her beautiful smiling face, he dug deep for courage.
“I brought chicken salad sandwiches and fresh fruit home from the bistro. Sophia makes superb chicken salad. She uses yogurt rather than mayonnaise and you’d never know the difference,” Becca said, but when she saw his face, her smile faded. “What’s wrong, love?” She gestured toward the wrought-iron chairs beneath an umbrella table. “Bad day on the water?”
Jimmy nodded and then sat down. The chicken salad sandwiches on marble rye and the dish of fruit should have looked appetizing, but his stomach churned at what he was about to tell her. “I couldn’t concentrate. Snagged my line, lost my favorite frog in the process.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Becca said as she poured sweet tea from a pitcher into a tall glass. “So do you have something on your mind? You looked a bit stressed.” She reached over and gave his arm a squeeze. “Want to talk about it?”
Jimmy looked at the pretty cloth napkin and nibbled on the inside of his lip.
“Jimmy?” Becca asked softly. “What is it?”
Jimmy looked at her lovely face. She’d pulled her hair straight back into a ponytail and wore jeans and a button-down light blue sweater with pearl buttons. She looked soft and sweet, and with her eyes so filled with concern, it hit him hard that she really cared about him. Jimmy had been a loner for such a long time that he’d forgotten how good it felt to have someone give a damn about him. Instead of the speech he needed to give Becca, he longed to tell her that he’d fallen love with her. But where would that get him?