Blake leaned across the table as if about to share a great secret. “I don’t really like that the handsome man’s chasing me.” Oh, how she lied.
“Hmm, well maybe you should become anti-man like me. We can start a club here on the island.” Suzanne smiled and grabbed her book, stuffing it into the oversized brown purse at her feet.
“Sounds like a plan. And trust me.” Blake paused, suddenly filled with apprehension. She really wanted this woman to like her. “I’m not perfect. I’m far from it.”
“You don’t have to defend yourself. I was just teasing you.” Suzanne stood. “I hate to be rude, but I have to go. I need to be at work in ten minutes.”
Blake stood as well, realizing she practically towered over the petite woman. “Where do you work?”
“At the Whitney Café on Third Street. I’m a waitress. Hard on the feet, but the tips are worth it. Though everything’s slowed down, now that tourist season is over.”
“Oh, I love the Whitney Café. They have the best sandwiches.”
“Well, come on by sometime. I’ll hook you up, get you a free drink or something.” Suzanne smiled and waved. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Nice meeting you, too,” Blake called, watching Suzanne exit the coffee shop.
She couldn’t help but notice the way Mason studied Suzanne as she walked by him, his gaze lingering on her form. Not in a sexual manner, more in a “Should I cuff you and stuff you” sort of way.
Blake rolled her eyes. Typical. The man was suspicious of everyone. And she wasn’t about to let his overly protective nature ruin her good mood.
She wanted to hug herself. Even though the conversation had only lasted ten minutes tops, she felt like she’d just made a friend. An actual, real life friend who didn’t care who she was or that she had more money than she ever knew what to do with.
This moment was a first. And she didn’t want to let it go.
* * * *
Blake exited the coffee shop a half hour later, her stomach full, her caffeine fix handled. Mason sat on a park bench a few feet down from the shop, the local newspaper folded and clutched in his hand. He stood and approached when he saw her, an expectant look on his face.
“Ready?”
Blake rolled her eyes. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“Depends.”
He removed the sunglasses, tucking them into the front pocket of his flannel shirt and for a moment, yet again, she forgot how to breathe. Would she ever be able to get over his outrageous handsomeness? Or would this happen every single time she found his intense gaze locked on her?
“Could you look a little...” She waved a hand in his general direction, trying to pretend everything was normal. That he wasn’t pinning her, devastating her with just one look. “Less intimidating when you’re hanging around? You’re ruining it for me.”
He arched a brow, dark and sexy and full of skepticism. “Ruining what?”
God, the man could hardly say more than two words to her. “I was trying to talk to that woman inside the coffee shop and I think you freaked her out.”
Well, she was exaggerating a little, but Suzanne had picked up on his vibe immediately. She thought it best if he could fade into the background a little more.
Hard though, considering how large and handsome he was. He stood out like a sore thumb. Thank God, he’d at least ditched the suits.
“Isn’t that my job?” She swore the brow went higher. “She looks suspicious.”
“Suspicious, how? She was really nice. I thought maybe I had a chance but I think you ruined it.”
Ah yes, kicking in the drama yet again. It only happened when she was in Mason’s presence.
“Had a chance?” He looked utterly confused. And completely adorable.
Damn it, this crush thing needed to stop now. It was unhealthy and distracting, especially after last night’s events. She didn’t need to make any more of a fool of herself than she already had.
“A chance at making a real friend. I liked her.” Suzanne was the first person who actually seemed to have an interest in talking to her and not about her father or politics or how wealthy her family was.
It was refreshing.
“She’s a stranger.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to warn me about stranger danger.” Okay, she was sort of being a bitch but she couldn’t help it. His lack of communication was frustrating, to say the least.
“I’m just doing my job,” he pointed out. “You don’t know her or what she’s all about.”
She really didn’t need the constant reminder that she was merely his job. “Isn’t that how you make friends? Getting to know someone who at first is a stranger?” Blake started walking, heading back toward the cabin. Mason fell right into step beside her.
“Sometimes your judgment is a little...off.” He sunk his hands into his pockets, staring straight ahead as was the norm.
Well. That remark hurt more than she cared to admit. She glanced at him from out of the corner of her eye, marveling yet again at the strength that radiated from him. She wanted to invade his space, touch him, see if his chest and his arms were as hard as they appeared.
Okay, she knew they were. She’d touched him before, more than once. The man was a solid mass of muscle. Delicious, mouth-watering muscle she wanted to search with her hands, lips and tongue.
Heat suffused her entire body and she breathed deep, trying to calm her suddenly erratic heart. Why couldn’t he be interested in her? She’d thrown herself at him, gave him the opportunity to jump her bones, and he hadn’t taken it.
Oh, he’d said he wanted to do the right thing, but really, what man did that? It made no sense, especially when she had no expectations.
At least, that’s what she told herself.
“Are you concerned for my well being Mason?” She pitched her voice higher, batted her eyelashes when he looked at her. The surprise on his face was unmistakable.
“Of course, I am. Like I said, it’s my job.”
So not the answer she wanted to hear.
Pretending nothing happened between him and Blake last night was the hardest thing Mason had ever done. His supposed nonchalant attitude toward her should be considered an Oscar-worthy performance. Every single time he looked at her, said something to her, she acted completely offended. Baffled.
He was baffled too. Baffled he could keep up the pretense and not give in to his baser instincts. They were screaming at him to forget everything and kiss her. Wrap her in his arms and hold that hot little body close, learn her every dip and curve with his fingers, his mouth.
But he didn’t give in. He continued to act as if she didn’t affect him. He didn’t have a choice.
This was a job. He couldn’t risk putting Blake in danger. And since all he could think of when he looked at her were the dirty, extremely satisfying things he wanted to do to her, he knew he needed to get out of here.
The second they got back to the cabin, he was calling Jerry and begging for a switch. He’d owe him big time. He’d give his partner pretty much anything he wanted if he just did him this one favor.
It would save his sanity. It would save Blake from himself.
“I would prefer if you didn’t follow so closely when I go into town,” Blake finally said, her voice soft, though he knew it was deceptive. The thin line of steel just beneath the petal softness of her words told him she was angry.
Perfect. He’d rather have her angry versus hot for him.
“I promise I’ll be more discreet.” Look, he was the poster child of politeness, how unusual. It was easy now, with relief looming on the horizon.
Twenty-four hours, maybe a little longer and he’d be out of here. Away from the exquisite torture that was Blake Hewitt.
“Yes, I’d prefer that.” She sounded genuinely surprised. “Thank you, Mason.”
They turned onto the gravelly drive that led to the cabins and Mason slowed his stride, observing her from behind. Like the pervert he was, his g
aze immediately zeroed in on her tight ass and he shook his head.
Maybe if he appreciated her for more than just her body, he might get over the lusty thoughts. Having an actual conversation with her versus merely listening to her go on about her troubles could help. At least get his mind off lusting after her for the next day or so.
Nah. He doubted it would help. No matter if he got to know her better—and he already thought he knew her pretty well—he would still have the same sex-filled thoughts. Really getting to know her, actually forming an emotional attachment would only make it worse.
“I need to make a couple of phone calls. Buzz me if you need me,” he said gruffly, veering toward the front door of the small cottage he stayed at.
Calling Jerry in there would ensure him the privacy he needed. No way could he have Blake hear this particular conversation.
“Fine. Whatever,” she said over her shoulder, not even bothering to look at him.
Shit. That kind of hurt. Maybe she was doling out a bit of his own medicine.
He went into the cottage and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Hitting Jerry’s number on speed dial, he paced the living room while the phone rang, anxiety eating him up inside. Jerry finally answered on the third ring. Mason had never been so happy to hear his partner and friend’s voice.
“I need a huge favor,” he started and Jerry laughed.
“That bad out there?”
“Hell, yes. Get me out of here, Jer. I’ll owe you big time if you could trade this shift out. Work the entire duration here on the island for me and I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Man, I’d love to bail you out bro. But hell, I can’t. I’m just as trapped as you are.”
Mason slumped into an overstuffed chair, rubbing the tips of his fingers across his eyebrows. “Why not?”
“My wife needs me here. She’s having surgery next week. Minor, it’s no big deal, but she won’t be able to take care of the kids and she needs me to help out around the house in the evening.” Jerry paused. “Sorry, man. Can anyone else cover?”
Crap. Byron had told him why Jerry couldn’t come with him to California but he’d gotten so wrapped up in his own problems, he forgot. “I doubt it. The election is just around the corner. I’m surprised they let you off the hook.” Mason couldn’t help the jealousy that tinged his voice.
“I asked for the time off months ago. They asked me to compromise, so we settled on part-time duty through the duration of the campaign.” Jerry paused. “It’s a normal stint, pretty low-key. You can cover that by yourself, no problem. Right boss?” Jerry sometimes liked to call him boss, had done so since they were first paired up.
He gritted his teeth, determined not to sound like a whiny ass. “I’ll be fine. It’s just…I don’t know.”
He’d never discussed his feelings for Blake, not with anyone.
“She flashed you her tits or something?” Jerry laughed, the jackass, and Mason knew he couldn’t admit how close Jerry was to what Blake had done last night.
“No, she’s just a—handful.”
“I’ll say. A pretty little handful who enjoys nothing more than trying to get your attention. You haven’t noticed that, boss?”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he said grimly. “But there’s nothing I can do about it.” Frustration made him want to choke but he swallowed past it.
“Right, right. Well, she certainly is a passionate little thing. You better keep her under control while you’re out there on the west coast, missing all the action.”
“You’re missing the action too, my friend.”
“I’m creating my own action here at home.” Jerry chuckled. “Chasing and corralling my kids. Fat lot of good it’s doing me, though. They’ve overtaken the house.”
He sounded pissed, but Mason knew Jerry loved his children more than anything. “You’re loving every minute of it.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jerry chuckled. “Just stay strong, boss. Do your time, do your job and everything’s going to be fine.”
Mason wished he could believe what Jerry said.
Everything’s going to be fine.
It was all a crock of shit. Given the chance again, he’d probably pounce on Blake and tear her clothes off with his freaking teeth, he was so hot for her. Maul her body with his hands, mouth and cock. Make sure she loved every minute of it too. Hell, he’d have her begging for more. She wanted him. He knew it.
Jesus. He sounded like an out of control asshole even in his thoughts.
“You’re right, Jer. I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me.” His reassurance sounded weak even to his own ears.
“Oh, I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about that poor little Blake Hewitt. She’s a lonely one, boss. You can’t tinker with her heart, you know. She’ll fall apart.”
Just the reminder he needed to hear. She acted like she was made of steel but her vulnerability hovered right there on the edge. She desperately tried to keep it under control, always trying her best to appear strong, prove to the world she was a fighter. But she wasn’t. She was scared, so very lost, though no one seemed to notice.
He did.
“I’m not going to tinker with her heart.”
“Well, don’t fool around with that sweet body of hers, either, my man.” Jerry blew out a harsh breath. “If Lacy heard me talk like this, she’d have my hide.”
Mason didn’t like hearing him say those things about Blake, either. “And with good reason too. Neither of us should be talking about her this way.”
“Hell no, we shouldn’t.”
Yet another reminder Mason needed. The wrath of James Hewitt would be deadly. Something Mason never wanted to deal with.
“I gotta go,” Mason finally said, sinking further into the plush chair. “Sorry to bug you.”
“Hey boss, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you out. Blake doesn’t act the same way with me as she does you. Of course, she’s not trying to tempt a chubby old fart like me, either.”
They laughed, Mason hanging up soon after but Blake still haunted his thoughts.
As usual.
He’d wondered more than once if her behavior toward him was how she acted toward every man she met. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t.
Maybe, just maybe, she wanted only him and no one else.
Mason snorted and shook his head. Hell, a man could dream.
Chapter Five
“You’re not causing any trouble out there, are you?”
Blake sighed. Unbelievable. Her father sent her away almost a week ago so he wouldn’t have to deal with her. She hadn’t heard from him in days, yet he called her up out of the blue and accused her of bad behavior.
“Causing trouble is never my intent, Father. You know this.” She called him father on purpose, keeping it formal. She’d kept it formal for years.
“I don’t want to hear any outrageous stories coming from Russell. You need to stay home, stay low key.”
Anger spiked her blood pressure and she closed her eyes, searching for peace. He always thought the absolute worst of her. She was sick of it. “I’m not doing anything outrageous, trust me.” She actually started painting a couple of days ago, all the gorgeous fall colors, the turning leaves inspiring her. She’d locked herself up in her studio for hours each day, painting furiously. Not bothering to talk to Mason or tell him what she was doing.
Earlier today, she had lunch at the Whitney Café, visiting with Suzanne and making plans to get together later in the week.
She refused to talk to Mason beyond the cursory polite comments or telling him her plans for the day when he asked. It was easier that way. Supposedly.
Mason had come with her to lunch, always her shadow. Lurking outside the cafe, he’d kept watch on her, though he wasn’t as obvious as last time. He’d eventually ordered a sandwich and sat on the patio, close enough that she could see him. Suzanne had never questioned it and Blake had felt the need to make up a story about paranoid parents and a bodyguard.
They’d kept a certain distance, she and Mason, both physical and emotional, and she’d grown somewhat used to it. They went about their business, Mason spending most of his day in the smaller cabin working if Blake stayed home. If she went out, he followed.
“Things are going well here. Numbers are up and support is strong,” her dad said, tearing Blake from her thoughts.
“That’s great.” She should care, really she should. But she’d become numb to it all. He’d been absent practically her entire life and she’d grown used to it. This election was more important to him than anything else.
Certainly more important than his family, she knew this from personal experience.
“I’d like you to be back here on Election Day, preferably the night before.” His voice lowered and he sounded almost pained. “It would please me to have your support, Blake.”
Tears threatened and she swallowed hard, refusing to cry. Crying got her nowhere in front of this man. It usually made him angrier, frustrated, whatever. Tears never got a positive reaction. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll be there.”
“Perfect. It’ll look good, surrounded by my beautiful wife and daughter, a nice photo op for the various media that’ll be in attendance. You know how much they love those.”
Right. That’s all she was useful for, a photo op. Well, unless she got snapped in a bikini. Then she became a photo disaster.
“I have to go,” she choked out, hardly able to speak. A single tear slipped down her cheek and she let it, didn’t bother wiping it away. As if she wanted to feel that tear burn into her heated skin. “Bye.”
Blake hung up, barely hearing her father’s goodbye. She set the phone carefully on the end table and perched on the edge of the couch, clutching her knees so tight, her knuckles went white.
Under His Protection Page 5