Upon entering her sister’s home, thundering racket alerted her that she’d find Mason and the girls in the movie room.
Sure enough, while Mason reclined in one of the sumptuous leather chairs, the girls lounged on their play pads. Vivian stared in wonder at the colorful screen on which Finding Nemo played out. Vanessa focused her attention on gumming a cloth-polar-bear rattle.
“Hey,” Mason called upon seeing Hattie. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’re you doing home?”
After depositing her purse on one chair, Hattie sat in the one nearest Mason. “Clementine informed me we are going to her party. If your dad and Fern don’t mind sitting, do you feel up to it?”
He groaned. “How many of the old crowd will be there?”
“Actually, I doubt many. Clementine and I are more the blue-collar type.”
“Doesn’t matter. If that’s what you want to do—” he paused the movie “—I’ll call Dad.”
Just like that, Hattie had a date for Halloween—not just any date, but the man of her dreams. So why didn’t she feel happier about the situation? Why was she allowing her mother’s hateful accusations to ruin a fun night out—a night Hattie deserved?
Why? Because if Hattie so much as touched Mason, then Akna’s horrible claims about Hattie’s lack of morals, and lack of loyalty to her sister, would be true.
* * *
“REALLY?” HANDS ON her hips, scowl firmly in place, Clementine appraised Hattie’s and Mason’s impromptu costumes. “I shouldn’t even let you in the door. What are you supposed to be?”
“Duh. TV antennas.” Hattie brushed past her and, in the process, adjusted the tinfoil cap Mason helped make.
He passed their hostess the tray of pumpkin-shaped cookies they’d picked up at the grocery store on the way over. “Clever, right?”
Clementine just shook her head.
The party was already in full swing with classic Kid Rock booming from the stereo speakers. The house was decorated with orange and black streamers along with dozens of orange light strands. Hattie knew most of the twenty or so guests, but had to introduce Mason to a few of the men and women who were new to town.
Joey and Dougie were spending the night at Clementine’s mom’s place.
Hattie and Mason played Pictionary for a while, but when they lost every round, and Hattie found herself forcing good cheer, she was glad when Mason offered her a beer, then asked if she wanted to get some air.
“Good idea,” she said, standing alongside him on the two-bedroom home’s back deck. Just being near him produced a fierce longing for a forbidden, elusive more.
“No offense, but you looked a little out of it in there.”
She laughed. “You’ve got a good eye.”
“Anything in particular got you down?” He rested his forearms against the railing, glancing back at her, moonlight kissing his handsome features. The mere sight of him took her breath away, transported her to a magical place where there were no worries, only the two of them. “Or just our situation in general?”
“Remember how when we first got to Melissa and Alec’s place, the game room still had the remnants of Craig Lovett’s birthday?”
“Sure.”
“Obviously, this is the first party I’ve been to since then, and it just occurred to me how different that night would’ve been had any of us known what was to come.” When her eyes teared up and the familiar knot in her throat formed, Hattie forced herself to stay strong. The worst had already happened. Her job now was to steel herself for whatever the future held.
Mason groaned before tugging her in for a hug. “Hat Trick, if there’s anything the navy has taught me, it’s that tomorrow’s never guaranteed. You have to take what today gifts you and be good with it.”
“I know....” Clinging to him, knowing he’d soon be leaving, too, she fought not to lose herself in fears of her uncertain future and of being a single parent to her sister’s girls. “But it’s easier said than done.”
He tenderly placed his hand beneath her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. “Come Friday, when I sign away my rights to your nieces, I need you to know that has nothing to do with you. I might be back on base, but I’ll only be a phone call away.”
“Th-that’s supposed to make me feel better?” She wrenched herself free, yanking off her stupid tinfoil hat, wadding it in a ball and tossing it out into the yard.
“I hoped it would. Last thing I want you thinking is that I’m abandoning you.” She turned her back on him, but he stepped up behind her, curving his hands over her shoulders. “What your sister did—leaving her kids to me...” He sighed. “What the hell was she thinking?”
A question Hattie asked herself every day.
* * *
TRUTH BE TOLD, by the time Friday morning rolled around and Mason stood in line at Era Alaska with Hattie to board their short flight to Valdez, he was more than a little relieved. The sooner this custody thing was behind him, the better off he’d be.
Ever since the party, Hattie had been a sullen mess. The twins weren’t much better. As for his mood? It ranged between sympathy for what Hattie was going through to annoyance over her shutting him out. On the surface, she was polite, but he knew her well enough to recognize the camaraderie they’d shared before the party was long gone.
Thank God for Fern and his dad watching the twins, because after the week he’d had, he could use the time away.
His dour companion mumbled, “Just when I think life can’t get worse.”
“What’s wrong?”
She held up her cell to show him a weather-radar image. “What’re the odds of this storm affecting our flight home?”
“Nil.” Had circumstances been different, he’d have pulled her close for a reassuring kiss. “Stop making up worries, and let’s try to enjoy our day.”
“Impossible. The closer I get to officially being a single parent, the more my stomach hurts.”
“What do you expect me to do? Even if I wanted to, I can’t just up and quit. I can ask for more leave, but at some point, I will want to finish at the very least my current enlistment.”
“I know. And I’m sorry to be dwelling on this. Consider the subject dropped.”
“Oh, no, you’re not going to launch a—”
“Sir.” The attendant leading them to their plane gestured for him to follow. Just as well, considering their circular argument had been getting them nowhere.
He waved at Hattie to lead the way, and then noticed her gray complexion. He felt like kicking himself. She’d just lost her sister to a plane crash. Why hadn’t he suggested they take a ferry?
“Hey—” He clamped his hand around her upper arm. “I didn’t even think of the implications of you getting on a plane. We don’t have to do this—at least, you don’t. Let me sign the papers on my own.”
“Benton advised us to present a united front.”
“What if I advise you to spend your afternoon soaking in a nice hot bath?”
“Do you ever shut up?” Her legs wobbled visibly and she planted both hands on the rails to mount the prop plane’s short set of stairs.
About a dozen snappy comebacks came to mind, but it wasn’t the right place or time for sniping at each other. If she refused to get off the flight, the least he could do was ensure she knew he was there to lean on—assuming that at this point she even wanted his support.
She chose to sit in the back. He followed, ducking in the cramped space.
Only three other passengers were on the flight, and they occupied seats near the front.
As the pilot cleared them for takeoff, Hattie’s complexion grew more waxen.
Mason reached across the narrow aisle and took her hand. She tried valiantly to rip it from his, but he said in a low tone, “Knock it off. I might be leaving Sun
day afternoon, but for now, I’m here, and I will help you through this.”
From that point through the duration of the flight, Mason held her hand, and she let him, and when the sun broke through the clouds just before landing, dowsing them in brilliant warmth and light, he couldn’t help but wonder if Hattie’s sister was sending her own form of comfort.
But when the aircraft’s wheels touched ground and Hattie dropped his hand as if he’d burned her, his own nerves set in. Was he doing the right thing? Even if a small part of his conscience said he wasn’t, what could he do about it? At the very minimum, he owed the navy a solid two years. And regardless of what she’d put in her will, he owed Melissa nothing.
What about Hattie?
What about that kiss you can’t forget?
He ignored the voice in his head. Three weeks earlier, he’d rarely even thought of her. So why did thoughts of Hattie—and her adorable nieces—rarely leave his head now?
Chapter Ten
“Relieved?” Hattie asked Mason on the cab ride from the courthouse to the airport. The storm she’d shown him earlier had yet to materialize, which was a relief as the sooner he got away from her the better.
“No.” He stared out the window at the hodgepodge of hangars and less-than-tourist-worthy homes. The judge had been ahead of schedule, and signing away his parental rights and monetary claims to any of Melissa’s and Alec’s possessions had taken all of ten minutes. “Look, we’re about three hours early for our flight. Let me at least buy you a decent meal. Steak? Sound good?”
She shrugged. “If you want.”
It beat the hell out of sitting with her at the airport for three hours. “Ah, sir,” he said to the cabbie, “would you mind running us back to that two-story steak place with all the antlers?”
At the restaurant, Mason paid the driver and got his business card so they’d have his number for their return trip.
A hostess seated them at a table near a crackling fire. The antler theme went a little overboard with antler candle holders, chair backs and even an antler railing on the stairs leading up to the inn’s few guest rooms. What space on the walls that wasn’t graced with antlers, there were framed head shots of celebrity guests.
A country singer crooned over a radio in a thankfully low volume about his cheatin’ ex.
Once the waitress left with their drink orders, Mason said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking this place could use a few more antlers.”
For the first time that day, Hattie cracked a smile. “You think?”
Their Jack and Cokes arrived, and after ordering two steaks, Mason was fresh out of conversational fodder.
First downing a good third of her drink, Hattie said, “Mom dragged me and Melissa up here for a quilt festival a couple years ago. We ate here one night.” Down went another third. “It was pretty good.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Quilting’s never really been my thing. Had more fun the next year when Dad and I stayed over at the Robe Lake Lodge. We took a charter—caught a salmon shark. Took nearly ninety minutes to reel him in.” Her drink was gone. “He’d never admit it, but I’m pretty sure Dad’s still jealous.”
“Don’t blame him.”
“You see our waitress?” Considering at two in the afternoon, the dining room only had three other guests, it wasn’t too hard to find the young woman seated in a corner booth, texting on her cell.
“What do you need?”
She waved to the girl and held up her empty glass, jiggling the ice.
“You didn’t eat breakfast or lunch. Think you might wanna pace yourself?”
“This time Sunday, you’ll be long gone. Why do you care?”
He took the empty glass from her. “Because I care about you.”
“Bull.”
The waitress delivered Hattie’s second drink.
“This time next week, you won’t even remember my name.” Down went her latest third, as did the zipper on her red sweater. “It’s waaay too hot in here. Oops,” she said when going low enough to expose a seriously sexy black lace bra.
An instant, damn-near-painful erection had him shifting positions. He didn’t need reminding about his recent dry spell. He sure as hell didn’t want to even ponder the notion of ending it with an innocent like Hattie.
Pointing to her bountiful breasts, he made a zipping motion. “You, ah, might want to assess that situation.”
She glanced down only to wave off his concern.
He leaned across the table, doing the job himself by raising her zipper to a respectable position.
“You know,” she said in a perfectly sober tone, “this situation sums up my life. I’ve always been seen as the good girl. Everyone’s always zipping me up.” Her second drink emptied. “Well, guess what? I’m tired of being good. And now, here I am mom to two kids and I didn’t even get great sex before getting knocked up.”
Mason choked on his drink, then did a quick check of the room to make sure no one had overheard Hattie’s complaint. “The guys you’ve been with haven’t been doing it right?”
“Not even a little bit....” She took a moment to ponder her revelation. “Pretty sure this is a sign I need more liquid courage.”
“Courage for what?”
“The whole single-mom thing, but mostly, I’m drinking however much it takes to remind me to keep my hands off of you.”
She tried signaling the waitress, but he managed to snag her arm before she got the woman’s attention.
“Would it be so bad?”
“What?”
“Putting your hands on me?”
She snorted. “It’d be the worst thing in the history of the world. Don’t get me wrong, you’re tastier than hot apple cobbler, but I’m not going to take a single bite—not even a lick.”
The thought of her licking him sent a fresh jolt to regions better left ignored. What Mason had intended to be a simple celebratory meal had suddenly become a sexually frustrating adventure. By the time the waitress brought salads, then their steaks, snow fell so hard that the parking lot vanished from the windows’ view.
He pulled up radar on his phone to find the snow had not only arrived ahead of schedule, but stronger in intensity than forecast.
When a tipsy Hattie damn near stabbed herself with her steak knife, he cleared his throat and asked, “Um, Hat Trick, how about letting me cut your meat for you?” Her all-too obliging come-hither smile did little to erase the image of her assets that had been burned into his retinas. Up close and personal, her floral shampoo reminded him of their many summer outings.
He may have married Melissa, but he’d had fun with Hattie.
Guilt from the realization had him retreating to his own personal space.
The waitress stopped by with the dessert menu.
Mason ordered cheesecake.
“Do you have beefcake?” Hattie asked with a snort.
After clearing his throat, Mason tugged his phone from his pocket. “I’ll check on our flight.”
“Why?” Her seat faced the river-rock hearth and its mounted moose head.
“Look behind you.”
She did and closed her eyes. “You do know Alec and Melissa’s accident was because of bad weather?”
“Yeah.” His dad told him the visibility had been fine when the couple had left Conifer, but roughly fifty miles south of Anchorage, they’d run into a snowstorm. One more glance out the restaurant’s window had Mason doubting they’d be going anywhere soon. “Let me give Era a call.”
“Well?” Hattie asked when he disconnected.
“Nothing’s going in or out for a while.” Snow already had day quickly fading to night.
With a groan, she dropped her head to the table. “Just when I thought I wouldn’t have to
resist you much longer...”
“Hang tight.” Lord, what he wouldn’t give to break her resistance, but his dad had raised him better than to take advantage of a girl who’d had a few too many. Mason finished off his cheesecake, then pushed back his chair. “I’ll grab a couple rooms. We’ll get a good night’s rest, then regroup in the morning. I’m sure Dad and Fern won’t mind staying with the twins. Sound good?”
She may have nodded, but judging by her crestfallen expression, he’d had dogs more excited by the prospect of spending more time with him.
Five minutes later, Mason returned, but not with the news he’d expected. He dangled a key from a canoe key chain. “Hope you’re not a blanket hog, because they only had one room.”
* * *
HATTIE WOKE FROM a three-hour nap to find Mason on the king-size bed beside her, pillow propped behind him. A woman on Wheel of Fortune had just snagged a Hawaiian vacation, but he didn’t seem all that excited. If anything, his handsome profile struck Hattie as stoic—resigned to riding out the storm with her when he’d probably rather be with a flashy blonde.
Save for the TV’s glow, the room was dark. Wind howled just beyond closed drapes. The old building shuddered from occasional gusts.
Most ordinary folks would be battened down for the duration, but typically, the word ordinary and Alaskans didn’t match up. Judging by the muted bass and laughter coming from downstairs, a blizzard party was in full swing.
Hattie envied the happy game-show contestant. “What would you give to be lounging on a Maui beach right about now?”
His unexpected smile raced her pulse. “Sleeping Beauty awakes.” He tugged a chunk of her hair. “You were a handful at lunch.”
“Yeah?” She yawned. “I don’t remember much past my third drink.”
“Likely story,” he teased. “Come here.”
He snagged her around her waist, tugging her close, landing her head atop his chest—exactly where she’d wanted to be, but knew she shouldn’t.
The SEAL's Christmas Twins Page 10