A giggle escaped her, but she covered her mouth.
“Think this is funny?” he teased, sweeping her into another heady kiss. “I’m in agony. You’re so damned sexy it literally hurts.”
“No...” She shook her head.
“Woman, have you ever really looked at yourself?” She’d only just noticed their reflections in the living room’s plate-glass windows. With no one around for miles, Mason took her hand, guiding her closer to their mirror images. He knelt in front of her, kissing the belly she thought too round. The hips she believed untouchable. “You’re curvy and sexy and soft.” Rising, he effortlessly lifted her onto a solid oak sofa table. “I want to bury myself in you, leave you begging for more...”
The shock of his entry was soon tempered by pleasure so intense she lost all sense of space and time. In and out he thrust and her body willingly swallowed him whole. Pressure built and blossomed until erupting into all-encompassing joy.
Breathing heavy, she clung to him, needing a few moments to come crashing down.
He kissed her again, this time deep and slow, sweeping her tongue with his. “How could I have missed knowing you were right here all along?”
She couldn’t answer because for her, it’d always been him.
* * *
“RELAX.” MASON STOOD behind Hattie at the kitchen counter while she added more crackers to her cheese platter. With her sexy bottom pressed against his fly, it was all he could do not to drag her into the pantry and have his way with her all over again. Unfortunately, since his dad and Fern sat only a couple dozen feet away, bickering about whether to watch football or John Wayne, Mason behaved, chastely kneading Hattie’s knotted shoulders. “They’ll come.”
Leaning against him, she asked, “What if they don’t? How can they stand being away from the girls? Should I run over there? Check if they’re all right?”
“They’re adults. They know they’re invited.” He spun her to face him, wanting more than anything to kiss her worries away. Instead, he settled for a quick hug, hoping his dad and Fern didn’t see.
“I guess. But it hurts, you know? I don’t understand how they lose one daughter, then make a conscious decision to throw their other one away. Not to mention, their grandchildren.”
“Babe, I don’t think it’s like that at all. Surely, by Christmas, your mom will come around.”
“Hope you’re right.” Had it been his imagination, or had she held him extra close? Almost as if she’d craved his touch as much as he had hers? “Whatever happens, thanks for your help. Everything looks great—although it’s a miracle anything got done.”
“Complaining?”
He loved the way she reddened. “No, but—”
Mason silenced her with a kiss.
Stunned, she put her hands to her lips. “You can’t do that. Not when we have company. In fact, we shouldn’t be doing it at all.”
She was right, but that didn’t stop him from landing a light smack to her behind when she left him to deliver the tray to their guests.
By the time the turkey was browned to perfection and Hattie had whipped mashed potatoes and candied sweet potatoes, his heart broke for her because Akna and Lyle failed to show. She’d even invited Alec’s parents, who were all the way down in Miami. Her hands’ slight tremble alerted him to her distress.
Fury didn’t begin to describe the malice he felt for the two couples. Ever since learning the contents of Melissa’s will, they’d taken out their pain on the one person who’d been just as surprised as them—Hattie. That fact royally pissed him off. Granted, as of late, he might be biased, but she was a good woman. She deserved to have only caring, devoted people in her life.
Which category are you?
His conscience’s question hit Mason square in the gut. When it came down to it, when he did finally return to Virginia, at the rate their connection was progressing he stood to hurt her more than anyone. He was married to the navy, and even if he weren’t, he’d tried marriage and look where it had landed him. He wasn’t sure what kind of relationship Hattie was ultimately in the market for, but he felt fairly certain that once she finally did settle down, she’d expect—she deserved—for it to be for the long haul.
Ignoring what would inevitably be his own role in Hattie’s pain, Mason sneaked off to the bathroom to make a call to Lyle.
The son of a bitch couldn’t even be bothered to answer.
“Dinner’s ready!” Hattie called from the kitchen.
Mason tucked his cell in his pocket, then joined everyone in the dining alcove.
“Your table’s pretty as a picture.” Fern smoothed the tablecloth. She held Vanessa, who kept making valiant attempts to nab Fern’s sparkly barrette. “I’ve never seen so much bling.”
“My sister loved putting on a good show. She bought all the crystal and china on one of Alec’s business trips to L.A.”
Mason thought all of it a bit much. Give him a paper plate and plastic fork and he’d be good. Toss in a campfire and he’d be even better.
On his way from carrying one of the high chairs in from the kitchen, he noticed a series of silver frames. The dining alcove was a spot in the house he’d never much paid attention to, and now he was glad he hadn’t. Picture after picture of Alec and Melissa lined a buffet. Smiling. Hugging. Kissing. Turning his stomach. Why, after all these years, did he still let them get to him?
Maybe because they were the reason he now felt incapable of sustaining any relationship. Because they’d taught him not to trust.
His dad carried in the other high chair and eased Vivian into it.
Though Hattie had set the table for six, only four presided around her delicious-looking spread.
She said a brief prayer, and then they dug in. Save for the clinking of silverware against plates and the girls’ occasional grunts and giggles as Fern and Hattie took turns feeding them pureed pears, all was quiet. The girls had grown a lot in the short time Mason had been with them. Seemed hard to believe they were already eating solid foods.
A couple times, Mason figured when she’d thought no one was looking, he caught Hattie glancing at the empty place settings.
Finally, having had enough of her torturing herself over other people’s poor manners, he pushed his chair back and cleared the empty plates. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could use more elbow room.”
“Me, too,” his dad said, rising to help.
“Hattie, this turkey is as moist as any I’ve ever had,” Fern noted.
“Thank you.”
His dad nodded. “I could take a bath in these potatoes.”
“You should probably take a bath in something.” Fern pinched her nose.
“Ha-ha.” Jerry helped himself to thirds of everything.
The meal wound on, and though Hattie didn’t say anything, Mason sensed her mood growing ever more somber. By the time they helped each other serve dessert, she was hardly saying a word.
“You okay?” he asked while unearthing the whipped cream from the overstocked fridge.
She nodded.
Back at the table, Mason took charge of serving. “Who wants pumpkin pie?”
“Heck,” his dad said, “I’ll have a little of everything.”
“You’d better get me some, too.” Fern held out her plate. “At the rate he’s going, there won’t be any left.”
Jerry dived for his plate, too, only to spit out his most recent bite. “No offense, Hattie, but this pie tastes like a salt lick.”
Chapter Fourteen
Paling, Hattie said, “Mason, you tasted it and told me it was fine.”
Yeah, he’d also been distracted. “Honestly, not only have my taste buds been ruined by dousing hot sauce on MREs, but I’m more of a pecan pie kind of guy. I’m not even sure what pumpkin’
s supposed to taste like.” And to prove it, he dived his fork right into the pie’s center. He chewed and chewed, and when he couldn’t hold his fake smile a second longer, he deposited the bite into his fancy cloth napkin. “Okay, so it might be a little salty, but otherwise, it’s pretty good.”
“Oh, stop.” Hattie tossed her napkin on the table, then dashed off up the stairs.
Fern scowled at both men. “Good Lord, were you two raised in a barn? Poor girl. It’s her first time hosting a big holiday. Couldn’t you lie? I ate my whole piece.”
Snorting, Jerry said, “That’s because you’re crazy.”
“No,” she argued, “I have manners. Mason, you’d better go after her. It’s not every day your own parents stand you up, then your pumpkin pie sucks.” She hacked off a chunk of pumpkin bread, slathering it with butter. “Everything else is real good, though.”
Mason followed Fern’s advice, charging upstairs. The closed guest room door may have muffled Hattie’s sobs, but that didn’t help him feel better about the situation. Quiet tears were still tears and he hated knowing she was hurt.
He knocked. “Hat Trick? Can I come in?”
“No! And stop calling me that!”
For a split second he considered respecting her apparent wish for privacy, but then barged in, closing the door behind him. “What’s with the waterworks? It was only a pie. And Dad and Fern have eaten damn near every crumb of the other stuff you cooked.”
“You’re such a man. The pie was just the cherry on top of what has been a seriously awful day. Everything was supposed to be perfect, but nothing went right.”
Perched on the bed beside her, he skimmed hair from her eyes. “Funny, because up until a few minutes ago, I thought it’s been a pretty great day. I’ve got you and the girls with me. My dad and Fern. I’m sorry your parents and Alec’s chose not to come, but that’s their loss.”
“You’re just saying that to be nice. And don’t think for a second I didn’t see the way you were looking at all of Melissa’s pictures in the dining room.”
“Yeah? What about it?” He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. “You sound as nutty as Fern.”
“Don’t even try pretending you don’t know what I mean. You slept with me last night, then today, stared like a love-sick puppy at her and Alec’s parade of exotic vacation pics.”
“Those? Are you kidding me?” He crossed his arms. “Yeah, I looked at them, all right—in disgust. If I looked sick, that’s because I was. I’m sorry those two died, and if this makes me sound like the most heartless ass on earth, then so be it, but the God’s honest truth is that to me, those two died the day Melissa left me to marry my so-called best friend.”
He stood and moved in front of the window. “Look, you have to forget the past. I don’t mean erasing your sister’s memory, but the role I once played in her life. Anything I felt for her has been over for a long time. As for me and you...”
“Oh, my God, do you ever shut up? As soon as my cast comes off, you’re headed back to Virginia. Last night and what happened in Valdez was fun, but you and I both know it’ll never go further than that.”
Jaw clenched, Mason tapped his closed fist to his mouth.
“My sister was the dreamer. I’ve always been a realist.” She combed the guest room’s designer pillowcase’s fringe. “I’ll be first to admit our hookup has been a nice surprise, but—”
“Aw, Hattie, you mean a helluva lot more than just a hookup to me. Don’t you know that? But circumstances being what they are, I don’t have anything else to offer.”
“Trust me, I know.”
* * *
AFTER A FEW semifriendly days, followed by smoking-hot nights, Mason had never been more confused. The second Hattie left for the bar on Tuesday, he called his pal Calder.
“Hey, man, we were just talking about you.” One of Calder’s kids cried in the background. He and his wife, Pandora, shared an almost-three-year-old boy and a one-year-old girl, as well as her daughter Julia from a previous marriage. Mason figured if anyone could help him figure out how to handle the mess he found himself in, it’d be Calder. “There’s a betting pool going on whether or not you’re coming back.”
“Of course I’ll be back. I still owe the navy two years.”
“You know enough people in high places to bail if need be.”
Mason sorted through the day’s mail. “That’s not my style.”
“Didn’t say it was, but I know what suddenly having a kid is like—and here, you have two.”
“Not anymore. I mean, yeah, I’m still taking care of them until Hattie’s arm heals, but I signed away my custody rights.”
“Cooper told us.” Yipping competed with kid-cries for loudest background noise.
“Sounds like you’ve got a zoo.”
“Pandora and the kids gave me a puppy for my birthday. It’s a Yorkie barely big enough to fit in the palm of my hand. Damn thing pees and craps chocolate-chip-sized turds everywhere, but it’s so cute you can’t stay mad at it long.”
“Sounds like you’ve got your hands full. Should I call back?”
“Not at all. What’s up?”
“Not sure where to even start.” His doodling on the back of the water bill took on a frenetic pace. “After what Melissa put me through, never in a million years would I believe I’d be thinking about another commitment, but things have developed between Hattie and me that I—”
“Whoa, stop right there.” The connection sounded muffled while Calder yelled at either a kid or dog. “Sorry. Crowd control. Listen, before I knew I wanted to marry Pandora, my stepdad gave me some great advice.”
“Lay it on me.”
“You know when you know.”
That’s it? “Care to elaborate?”
“Nothing more to say.” Something howled. Mason couldn’t be sure whether it was a dog or kid. “Sorry, man, but Pandora’s out shopping with a friend and I’ve got a situation. Seriously, think about what I told you. Best thing I ever did was trust myself enough to believe in what I was doing.”
Mason disconnected and contemplated throwing his phone.
Clearly, his usually logical friend had been brainwashed by love. Nothing he’d just said made sense. Mason had entered his marriage planning to be with the same woman for the rest of his life, but now that the illusion of a forever relationship had been shattered, he recognized love for the sham it was.
Sure, he loved his dad, but that was different. No one else could ever have that kind of permanent connection. Melissa proved it wasn’t possible.
As for what he felt for Hattie? Mason didn’t have a clue.
* * *
WITH CHRISTMAS ONLY three weeks away, a sense of urgency had settled over Hattie, driving her to make every minute of each day count. Thanksgiving might’ve been a bust—at least where her parents were concerned, but no matter what, she was determined to make Santa’s big day extra special.
The holiday was always a big deal in Conifer. With a limited amount of decorative items shipped in, homeowners had to be quick in buying items the second they hit Shamrock’s or the grocery store.
Tuesday morning, she and Mason loaded the girls into Melissa’s SUV to go to a Christmas-tree farm. Hattie had her heart set on the biggest tree she could find.
“You sure we’re on the right road?” Mason drove, while both babies gurgled and babbled along to Elmo’s Sing-a-Long. “And could you please find a different CD?”
“The map said Owl Creek Road. That’s what we’re on, right?”
Braking, he lowered his mirrored sunglasses to give her a dark stare. “We’re on Deer Creek Road because that’s what you told me we needed.”
“Oops.” She hoped her smile encouraged Mr. Grinch to better appreciate the importance of their mission. This would be the g
irls’ first Christmas, and as such, Hattie thought it important to do everything perfect—just the way her sister would’ve. Hattie had always wanted to visit the farm, but her parents put up an artificial tree. “You have to admit that with all the snow piled on the shoulders, it looks the same?”
“Sure. Except for the sign that says Owl Creek Road.”
“Sorry. Once we get there, you’ll be superhappy we drove all this way. Clementine got her tree here last year and it was gorgeous.”
He shook his head.
Thirty minutes later, they finally reached Olde St. Nick’s Tree Farm. On a weekday, the train wasn’t running, but there were plenty of trees and a black pony named Coal for the girls to ride. The building that housed Santa, as well as hot chocolate and cookies, had been decorated to resemble a Dickensian village. Thousands of lights twinkled from most every surface, lighting the suddenly cloudy day. With carols playing over loudspeakers and scents of cinnamon and pine lacing the air, Hattie couldn’t imagine a better place for Mason to finally find his holiday spirit.
The place was so popular, families from neighboring towns rode the ferry to catch the farm’s specially outfitted retired school bus that hauled trees on top. Since it was open only two weeks out of the year, customers had to be on their game to make sure they were there in time to make the best selection.
“Isn’t this adorable?” Hattie asked Mason as they left the car, each carrying a girl. “Should we take pictures of the twins riding the pony first, or visiting Santa?”
“I thought we were here to get a tree? Should be an in-and-out mission. Precision all the way.”
“What is it with you and missions? This will be Van’s and Viv’s first time to see the big guy. I want to soak it in.”
He locked the car. “Thought you were asking your mom to come with you?”
“I did, but as usual, she turned me down.”
“Sorry.”
“It is what it is,” Hattie said in a forced cheery tone. She was tired of feeling hurt by her mom. In the same respect, she refused to give up on making their relationship as special as it had once been.
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