Charmed: A Prescott Novel (The Prescott Series Book 3)

by Joanne Schwehm

  In no time at all, Mason was by my side, his arms around my waist and his board behind him. Holding me safely against his body, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  Ignoring the saltwater that I’d just swallowed, I nodded, thankful we were near dry land. My thighs were burning, and every single muscle in my body was screaming at me.

  “Yes, thank you. I think I’m done surfing for today.”

  He led me to a small shower area, where I rinsed off the sand that had accumulated in every crease and crevice. When I looked up, Mason had unzipped the top of his wetsuit, leaving it hanging at his waist. Each of his ab muscles were taut, the vee between his hips was pronounced, and the subtle hairline that I liked to refer as the “pleasure trail” caught my eye.

  My tongue seemed to have a mind of its own as it licked my lips while my gaze trailed upward and met his. Busted. But when he turned around and I saw his tattoo, my eyes almost lost focus. I wasn’t sure what it meant to him, but it was beautiful and covered his right shoulder blade.

  There seemed to be a lot about Mason I didn’t know.

  CHAPTER 14

  ~ Mason ~

  The way Gretchen looked at me made the blood flow to my dick increase. I needed to get under the cold spray of the shower to tamp my shit down, or Gretchen was going to get an eyeful. But when her cheeks tinged with embarrassment, my ego wasn’t the only thing that was boosted.

  Her back was to me when she began to peel off the neoprene suit. One shoulder at a time was exposed; it was as if I was watching her move in slow motion. What I was unprepared for was the tiny pink bikini she was wearing, nothing more than scraps of fabric barely covering her perfectly curved ass. I’d seen many bikinis since living in California, but none of them had the same effect that Gretchen’s did. Visions of my nimble fingers tugging on the strings while the pink fabric fell from her body played in my mind.

  She reached for the handle and turned the water off. Noting how her skin prickled from the cold, I reached down and grabbed a towel.

  “Here you go.” The open towel served two purposes—not only to shield my now rock-hard cock, but also to wrap her up so no one else could see her in that skimpy bikini. That sight I’d like to keep to myself.

  Gretchen twisted her hair and wrung it out like a rag. Then she turned toward me.

  There was no way I couldn’t look. No single man in his right mind would avert his eyes from the most spectacular breasts I’d ever seen. My hands ached to touch them; my tongue longed to taste them. One day, I’d take her pebbled nipples in my mouth, but not today. Friends. That’s all we were.

  We dried off and dressed quickly, then decided to head over to my place. Gretchen hadn’t been there yet, and she wanted to see where I lived. But when we turned the corner, barricades blocked the entrance to my apartment complex.

  “What’s going on?” Gretchen’s voice tightened, but when she looked out the window, she gasped. “The sky is full of smoke.”

  I dipped my head to look out the top of the windshield, only to see plumes of dark gray smoke. “Son of a bitch.”

  My truck lurched as I slammed it in PARK and raced toward my apartment. Gretchen wasn’t far behind me. On instinct, I stretched my right arm back to grasp her hand. There was a lot of commotion among the firefighters, onlookers, and medical personnel.

  “Sir, you can’t pass the yellow tape,” a police officer said as he stopped us in our tracks.

  “I live here.” Even though I did my best to see if it was my building, I couldn’t. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

  “A fire broke out in building 3, apartment 1C. The LAFD are in the process of clearing the building.”

  Son of a bitch. “That’s my building.” Suddenly, fear and sadness washed over me. “That’s Mrs. Lee’s apartment. Was she there? How is she?” Mrs. Lee was an older woman. She’d lived there alone ever since her husband, Walter, passed away.

  Scratchy voices came out of the radio clipped on the policeman’s shoulder. He stepped away from us, and all I heard was 10–4. Gretchen intertwined her fingers with mine as she moved closer to me.

  When the officer came back, he said the building was evacuated. Mrs. Lee was on her way to the hospital for precautionary measures. Apparently, it was a grease fire.

  “When can I get into my apartment?”

  The policeman turned to me with sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry, son, but the fire chief hasn’t cleared the building yet for re-entry. No one is being let in. You can contact the Red Cross if you need a place to stay.”

  All I could do was nod.

  Gretchen squeezed my hand. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Numbness filled my body as we climbed back into my truck. Everything I owned was in my apartment. I didn’t have my clothes or any of my belongings.

  “I’m homeless.” My head dropped back until it hit the headrest.

  “No, you’re not. You’re coming home with me.” Gretchen shifted in her seat to look at me. “We will figure this out, but for now, let’s get out of here.”

  When we walked into Jack’s house, I immediately headed for the kitchen. “Do you mind if I grab a beer? Do you want one?”

  “No, thank you, but help yourself.” She headed toward the couch, and once I popped the cap off and took a long swig equal to half of the bottle, I joined her.

  “Thank God Mrs. Lee was safe.”

  “I’m happy too.” Gretchen reached over and placed her hand on mine. “I meant what I said. You’re not homeless. Move in here until you can go back home.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think I should. Jack would kick my ass if he thought we were shacking up together.”

  She waved me off. “No, he wouldn’t, and we’re not shacking up. There are seven bedrooms in this house, six of which aren’t being used. It’s just me here, so you’d be keeping me company.”

  Could I live with Gretchen even temporarily? The thought of seeing her every morning made me smile, but the thought of her sleeping in the same house made me wonder if I was an idiot for even considering her offer.

  “What is it? Are you afraid I’m going to sneak into your room and jump you?” She giggled while I did my best not to say, I’m afraid of being the jumper.

  “You’re right,” I said, and her eyebrows arched. “No, I’m not scared of you jumping me.” When she curled her lips between her teeth in an attempt to stop laughing, I shook my head. “Let me start over. How about we check with Jack, and if he’s good with it, then you have a temporary roommate.”

  Gretchen grabbed her cell phone. “Hey, big brother, it’s me. I wanted to tell you that Mason is temporarily moving in with me. There was a fire in his apartment building, so he needs a place to crash. Thankfully, everyone in the building is safe. I’ll also feel safer with him here, so I knew you wouldn’t mind. Thanks, love you.” She tossed the phone on the coffee table. “See, no problem.”

  “You left him a voice-mail message.”

  “Yes, I did. Now, let’s go raid Jack’s closet. He should have some clothes for you.”

  Gretchen gave me the grand tour. After I picked a room and forced myself to borrow some casual clothes out of Jack’s dresser, I decided to hop in the shower. But before I did, her phone chimed.

  “Ooh, look. It’s a text from Jack.” She waved me over to see the message, which I read over her shoulder.

  JACK: At an event. Got your message. He’s a great guy. I’m sorry about his apartment. Of course he can stay there.

  GRETCHEN: Thanks.

  “See, I told you.” Gretchen nudged me with her elbow, but then her phone chimed again.

  JACK: By the way, I’m sorry you felt unsafe with my gated driveway outfitted with cameras, and the security system with twenty-four-hour surveillance. Want to tell me the real reason you want him there? Or maybe you should just tell yourself. Better yet, tell him.

  Gretchen gasped, and the air in the room changed dramatically.

  What did Jack mean? Tell me what?


  She began to shift from side to side as her fingers hovered over the keys without typing anything. Clearly, Jack had no idea she’d be letting me read her texts as they came in.

  When her phone chimed again, I heard her swallow. She stood mutely, staring at her phone, and I decided to peer down at the small screen.

  JACK: Did I hit a nerve? I need to go. Love you. And call Mom.

  Gretchen slid the phone into her pocket and turned toward me, her cheeks rosy. With a tight smile, she said, “The towels are in the cabinet next to the vanity.”

  Knowing she needed to collect herself, I walked to the bathroom connected to the room I’d be staying in. Once the shower was on, the steam covered the mirror as I stepped in and relaxed, enjoying the streams of hot water relentlessly pounding my skin.

  Too many things were running through my brain—the fire, Mrs. Lee, my belongings, dealing with insurance claims, but none of those issues held a candle to Jack’s text or Gretchen’s reaction to them. Naturally, I could read into it and believe she actually had feelings for me beyond friendship, but that could be wishful thinking.

  For all I knew I was zoned, or FZO, as Thomas called it.

  * * *

  Harmonic sounds filled the quiet home. I’d been walking toward the family room when I decided to stop and listen.

  Gretchen. Her voice was sweet as she sang along with a song that was playing. It was an instrumental version of something that sounded familiar, but I couldn’t pinpoint it until she sang the chorus to “Where the Boys Are.”

  My grandmother liked that song, as did my mom, but I hadn’t heard it in years. When she sang the line about finding a valentine, I smiled. Did she want to find one? The most romantic day of the year was just around the corner, and I hadn’t had a valentine in years. The last person I’d celebrated the day with was Lucy, but our date wasn’t romantic. We’d simply stayed in and watched sitcoms.

  Gretchen let out a sigh when she sang the last line.

  Didn’t she think she’d find someone? Or that he’d be waiting for her? I’d wait forever if I had to.

  A little voice in my head screamed at me to come clean with her, to let my feelings be known, but what if that backfired? What if she rejected me?

  My thoughts turned back to the text messages. Maybe I’d read into them what I wanted to. All I knew was Gretchen didn’t seem like the happy-go-lucky person from this morning. No, now she was singing melancholy songs while staring into the flames burning in the fireplace.

  When the music finished, I cleared my throat and said, “Looks like your brother and I are the same size, but my sweats aren’t nearly this comfortable.”

  Gretchen turned, and her gaze raked down my legs before meeting mine once more. “That’s because those are Loro Piana.”

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  “They retail at around fourteen hundred dollars.”

  “Holy shit. Who buys fourteen-hundred-dollar sweatpants?”

  She shrugged. “They were a gift from one of his clients. I remember when he got them for Christmas one year. We mocked him for days about having cashmere-and-silk sweats. That’s probably why he keeps them here; so we don’t harass him.”

  “Maybe I should change. I’d hate to actually sweat in them.”

  “Don’t be silly. Let’s have a drink. I’m sure you could use one.”

  One? I could use a few. Not only was my head still visualizing the text, but my ass was now sitting in pants that cost more than my first car.

  CHAPTER 15

  ~ Gretchen ~

  What the hell was Jack even thinking? Apparently not that Mason would be reading my texts. Maybe Mason would just think my darling brother was teasing me. Yeah, I’ll go with that.

  After tossing a few large pillows on the floor in front of the fireplace, I sat down with a glass of wine and looked up at Mason, who looked completely delectable. The waistband of the sweats rested low on his hips, accentuating the impressive muscles that formed into an arrow pointing to, well, let’s say the material wasn’t thick, but he was.

  He took a seat next to me and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. “I could get used to this. Thank you for everything, Gretch. It’s funny how things happen.”

  “What do you mean?” My eyes met his. God, he was beautiful.

  “When you came here, I told you I’d be here if you needed me, and I ended up needing you.”

  I shrugged. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

  “Right.” He ran his free hand through his hair, took a swig of his beer, and focused on the fire. “I thought I could stay with Spencer. You know, if you want to entertain anyone.”

  Oh my God. I’d never thought of that. Not for me, but for him.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said. “The only man I’m friendly with is you.” His eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he stared at me, but that didn’t stop me from continuing. “If you want to bring a date here, you can. Just sitting on the back patio feels like foreplay.” Wait. What the hell was I saying? “I mean, not that you need to have foreplay or sex.”

  Oh my God. My inner voice instructed me to shut the hell up.

  Ever so slightly, his head bobbed. “I think I’ll be good. Plus, I could be out of here tomorrow, but thank you for the offer.” He chuckled.

  Every single nerve in my body was on high alert. My head was in pure brain-to-mouth malfunction. Seriously, this was just Mason; I needed to chill the hell out. Fine, he was gorgeous, and the way he wore those sweatpants did weird things to me. Clearly.

  “Want to watch a movie?” I headed for the sofa but grabbed Mason another beer first and refilled my wineglass.

  “A movie sounds great.”

  Mason took a long pull of his beer. My eyes focused on his Adam’s apple as it bobbed with each swallow.

  We sat down on opposite ends of the couch as if we had cooties. I quickly shook my head, trying to rattle my brain into place. With the remote in hand, I clicked the television on and asked, “What are you in the mood for?”

  He smirked. “Whatever you are. Ladies’ choice.”

  Surfing through the pay channels, I landed on How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.

  “I love this movie. Too bad it took me almost three years to lose a guy.” I let out a laugh, and Mason joined me.

  “It was his loss, Gretch.” Mason stretched his legs out while I curled mine under me.

  “Thanks, surfer boy.”

  He shook his head and resumed watching the movie.

  * * *

  Snoring. Who was snoring? Was I snoring? No, my pillow was snoring. Pillows can snore?

  Disorientation consumed me as my thoughts froze. When I moved my hand, I felt something that wasn’t the mattress, unless my bed suddenly turned into a rock . . . with ridges.

  Imagine my surprise when I gingerly sat up and my vision finally came into focus. Mason was leaning back on the sofa, and his hand fell limply away from my back with my movement.

  Before I woke him, I studied him for a bit, inspecting his soft lips, perfect cheekbones, and defined jawline covered in the sexiest amount of morning scruff. Suddenly, my mouth was devoid of moisture. Even when I licked my lips, it didn’t help.

  When did we end up cuddling with each other? Last I remembered, we were a cushion apart, as if we were on a date at my parents’ house.

  Being like this wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t feel right either. We were friends; that’s all. God forbid we ruined this, and I didn’t want to think about the impact on Lucy if we screwed up our friendship. Talk about putting someone in the middle. That would suck.

  No. Just friends. That’s all.

  There was only one problem—my heart. Even though it hadn’t been long since Scott broke up with me, I’d started feeling a pull toward Mason.

  Maybe I’m just lonely.

  The sun shone brightly through the windows, so I gingerly rose and made my way to the back patio. No reason why both of us should be up at th
e crack of dawn. After I had watched the scenery for a bit—the water, the joggers getting their morning run in, and a couple of dog walkers—I went back inside.

  “There you are.” Mason stretched his arms straight up, causing his shirt to rise and exposing his toned abdomen that I’d used as a pillow. After a few long strides, he was next to me and kissed me on the cheek. “Good morning.”

  It was so nice having someone with me. Even though I lived alone in Virginia, being in this huge home was different. It was almost isolating.

  “Good morning. Would you like some coffee?”

  “That sounds great,” he said as we headed into the kitchen. “Did you sleep well?”

  Mason’s morning voice was gruffer than normal. Every part of my body was attuned to it.

  “Yes, and I’m so sorry I fell asleep on you. It couldn’t have been comfortable.” I clicked on the coffeemaker while fiddling with a packet of sweetener.

  “Actually, I slept well. Once you stopped talking in your sleep, it was a piece of cake to fall asleep.” He chuckled, and I inwardly died.

  “What? I talked in my sleep?” My chest tightened with worry about what might have spewed from my lips. Suddenly, I didn’t want coffee; I wanted a stiff drink.

  “You sure did. But being the gentleman that I am, I’m not going to repeat it.”

  Holy mother of all things holy. What the hell did I say? Was it about him?

  Shit. I’m going to kill Jack for sending me that message and screwing with my head. He’s lucky he’s not here.

  “A gentleman wouldn’t have brought it up in the first place.”

  “Touché.”

  We decided to have a lazy day and hang out by the pool. Mason needed to get his things in order, including shopping for some new clothes, and I had to talk to Sophie about her impending visit.

  Part of me wanted to keep Mason to myself for a bit. Although she was my best friend, I knew she thought he was a spectacular specimen of a man. After what she witnessed New Year’s Eve, I knew she wouldn’t make a play for him.