by Rush, Olivia
A few seconds later, a knock sounded against the wood, followed by the sharp trill of the doorbell.
“Coming,” I called out, my nerves finally building for this meeting. Not getting a dog wouldn’t be the end of the world, but there was something about this that felt important.
Maybe it had to do with the fact that every damn person in this town—excluding Mason—had treated me like I was a leper since I’d arrived. That’s not fair. Betsy was nice. OK, so maybe it was an exaggeration. Only a few bad apples in the bushel in Stoneport, but still. I needed this.
I hurried through to the front and opened up. “Hi, Kathy. Thanks so much for coming out here today. I know it’s a bit of a drive.”
“It’s necessary,” Kathy replied, stiffly. “I have to ensure that our animals go to welcoming homes.”
“Well, my welcoming home is yours to inspect.” I stepped back to admit her, cheesy grin in place. “I’ve made some coffee. Would you like a cup?”
“I’m not sure that would be appropriate, Miss Starr. I’m here strictly to examine the home. I won’t accept any bribes.”
My jaw dropped. Jeez, lady. Rip the stick out of your ass. “I assure you, it’s not a bribe. Just practicing some Southern hospitality!”
“Oh, well,” Kathy said and perked up. “In that case, I will take a cup. Thank you, dear.” She stepped over the threshold and looked around the entrance hall and at the staircase that still needed work. “Lovely home. I remember when Ned and Irma first moved in here. Looks like they really let the place go.”
“Yes, my grandmother was in ill health for years before she passed. I guess maintenance wasn’t high on the list of priorities,” I replied. “But that’s fine. It’s all in my hands now, and I’m more than happy to fix it up. I used to love this house when I was a kid.” What I remembered of it.
“Mind if I take a look around out back?”
“Be my guest,” I said and gestured for her to make her way down the hall and through the kitchen.
Kathy set off on her own, and I hesitated, taking a second to catch my breath. It’ll be fine. You’re good. I made to shut the door, and my hand slipped on the knob.
Another car had pulled up behind Kathy’s in the interim. A big, black Dodge. And Mason was in the process of exiting it.
“Shit,” I muttered, under my breath. The last time he and Kathy had been in the same vicinity, fur had nearly flown, and that was the last thing I needed today. This had to go off easy, without a hitch. It had to be pleasant.
Mason waved from the cab. “Hey,” he said. “I’ve got the day off. Thought I’d get to work on the rest of the fence, then measure up that staircase of yours. Sound good?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but the sharp click of heels halted me. “Who’s that?” Kathy asked, stepping back into the hall. “Miss Starr?”
“Just the friendly neighborhood doctor,” I replied, cheerily. Who I have definitely not slept with. Or fantasized about repeatedly over the course of the past two days.
“Mason,” Kathy said and pursed her lips.
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
“Of course. I’m just not sure that hanging around with the doctor is what’s good for you, dear.” Kathy hugged her clipboard to her chest. “After all, he’s got a past, if you know what I mean. Not to be trusted. I would’ve expected better from an ex-military man, myself, but you never know whether—” She cut off as Mason strode up the path and onto the porch.
“Morning,” he said. “Am I interrupting something?” Why did he have to be so damn delicious? Mason wore tight-fitting jeans, a pair of clunky boots, and a steel gray shirt that tugged at his biceps. He ruffled his dirty blond hair and smiled at me.
I melted into a puddle of goo inside, yet managed to keep my expression neutral. “Kathy here was just doing the home inspection to ascertain whether I’m the right fit for Ty,” I said.
“Oh, great.” Mason gave two thumbs up. “Listen, Kathy, don’t worry too much about the fencing out here, it’s all solid, but I’m going to tug it up and replace it with all new fencing, anyway.”
Kathy nodded stiffly. “Fine,” she said. “I already tested that myself, doctor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take a look at the backyard.” She shuffled off without a backward glance, though her posture had stiffened considerably in the last couple minutes.
I waited until she was out of sight, then stepped out on the front porch. “I’d better go pour her coffee. I promised her a dose of Southern hospitality.”
“I wouldn’t waste the good stuff on that old witch,” Mason replied. “She’s bitter enough already.”
“Ouch. Sounds like she’s not the only one.”
“Kathy’s…she’s part of the older group in town. The locals. She’s got some strange views on life, love, and everything else in between. I don’t buy into that viewpoint. I’m not bitter about it, just truthful.” Mason stepped closer, and it took all my willpower not to stumble back a step beneath his gaze and his heat.
His body heat. Oh god, I was in trouble here.
Yesterday at Betsy’s I’d nearly swept the table clean, crawled across it, and sat down in his lap. Just the touch of his thigh against mine…
“You there?” Mason waved a hand in front of my face.
“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry. And hello. And thanks for helping me with the fence and all the other stuff. But I’d really better get inside and take care of Kathy.”
Mason gave me one of those long, sweeping stares—the kind that started at the tips of my toes and lingered in all the right places, eventually stopping at my face. “You do that, angelface.”
I rushed through to the kitchen and fixed the coffee, taking down an extra mug for Mason as I did. I poured the cream just as Kathy stepped into the house.
“There you are,” I said and handed her a mug. “Well? What did you think? Did you like the backyard? I’m right up against the river.”
“Rivers have alligators,” Kathy said and peered into the coffee like it was a better conversationalist than me. “You know that, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to need you to put up another fence between the one you have and the river before I can approve your application,” Kathy said and set down the mug without taking a sip. “Do you think that’s something you can do?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “I’ll ask Mason to help out.”
“Hmmm.” Kathy scanned the list. “Other than that, you seem to have a lovely home. I believe I was here once before when Ned hosted an anniversary party about ten years ago. Lovely people, your grandparents. A shame they passed.”
“Thank you,” I said. “So just the fence and then…?”
“Yes, you get that fence put up, call me to take another look, and after that, I’ll approve your application. Ty will be all yours. You’ll have to pay for his shots, of course, and the adoption fee, but that’s another matter.”
“No problem,” I replied, joy surging through me. This was one of the first things that’d gone right since I’d move to Stoneport. I was one fence away from my fluffy companion.
If I could soften Kathy to my cause, surely I could soften the other hardened locals in Stoneport.
“Kathy, thank you so much for coming out,” I said and extended a hand for a shake.
She took it gingerly. “It’s my job, dear. You just be careful.” She dragged me in close and lowered her voice. “There’s worse things than alligators in Stoneport.”
Chapter 11
Rebecca
I trudged up the front path, the burden of the day sitting on my shoulders. Sure, I wasn’t a quitter, but I wasn’t exactly the most positive person in the world at the moment.
I’d covered just about every diner in town, every restaurant and bar, and none of them were looking for a chef or a fry cook or anything similar. Slim pickings. The worst part was, I was pretty much sure that the main reason they weren’t looking was because it was me asking.
“You’re just being paranoid because of Louisiana Barbie,” I muttered, and tramped up the front steps.
I was in the mood for a tall glass of cheap wine and something delicious to eat. Food had been the cure for what ailed me since I was a kid, and that had naturally developed into a passion for cooking later on.
I brought out my keys, inserted one into the lock, and lifted my head. A note waited for me, tacked to the wood with my name scrawled across the front.
My heart tha-thumped in my chest. I removed the note slowly, savoring the feel of the paper under my fingertips. Perhaps my day was about to get a little bit better.
I flipped it open, a smile parting my lips.
I’ve been thinking about you for so long, I don’t remember thinking about anything else.
So sue me—this friendship thing is hard.
If you agree, or hell, if you just want to blow off some steam after a long, hard day, come out back to the river.
There’s a special something waiting for you.
Your Secret Admirer
If my heart had been skipping beats before, it was nothing compared to now. What was Mason playing at? It had to be him—I didn’t know anyone else in town who’d do this type of thing.
“There’s only one way to find out,” I muttered and let myself into the house.
I made quick work of taking a shower and throwing on some understated clothes and a dash of mascara, then did as the note had asked and stepped out my back door. Dusk crept across the lawn in lavenders and grays, coloring the last of the day in peace.
The distant flicker of candlelight drew my focus, and I chewed the inside of my cheek.
There, down by the river—hopefully not in alligator range—stood a broad-shouldered man holding something. Below him, a picnic blanket waited with a lantern sitting at its center and tiny candles all around its perimeter.
I restrained the whoop of joy in my gut and strode down the back steps and across the yard, managing not to wring my hands nervously like this was a date. Sure looks like a date.
“Glad you made it,” Mason said, as I halted just off the blanket. He held out a glass of wine, and I accepted it. “I figured you’d need some chill time tonight.”
“Mason, this is—”
“Completely inappropriate and out of the blue? I know, right?” He chuckled, holding out a hand.
I took it, kicked off my flats, and took a step over the little candle boundary to join him on the checked blanket. “I was thinking fire hazard, actually.”
“The candles? We can blow some of them out if it bothers you.” Mason set about putting out candles with two bare fingers. Even that was sexy, goddammit.
I lowered myself to the picnic blanket and cleared my throat. “Thank you for this,” I said, “but you really didn’t have to go to all this trouble. You’re taking the neighborly thing to a whole new level.”
Mason snorted. “You and I both know the neighborly ship sailed long ago.” He sat down beside me, tilted a glass toward mine and the rims chinked together. “I give a shit about you, Becca. About what happens to you, and it seems to me like you’re having a hard time lately. I just wanted to make you feel better.”
You make me feel so much more than better. So much more.
“Thanks,” I said and looked out at the river, taking a sip of my wine. “News sure travels fast in Stoneport. How’d you know I was having a rough day?”
“Patients, people, that kind of thing. If it’s worth talking about in Stoneport, it’s already been spread around and reworded a million times.” He set down his glass and rubbed one massive hand over the other. “The job hunt’s not going so well?”
Under any other circumstance, the question would’ve seemed intrusive, but Mason was so well meaning, so sweet, and being such a good…friend that it didn’t bother me. I nodded and swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s OK,” I said, “I’ll figure something out. Starrs don’t quit. That’s the sibling motto, you know?” Kieran had hated it whenever I said that. Maybe he’d been threatened by it.
“Nice. Look, I want to help you out here,” Mason said and took my hand. He stroked those thick fingers over mine, drawing goosebumps wherever he touched. “I’ve got an opportunity for you that might help you out. The receptionist at work is going on maternity leave in a few weeks, and we need someone to stand in for her. You can start tomorrow if you like, learn the ropes, and earn some money on the side while you wait for something to open up here. Pay’s relatively good.”
I stared at him, stunned, and drew my hand out of his grip. “Mason, I don’t know if that would be a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“You’re offering me this while we’re sitting on a checked blanket surrounded by candlelight, under the stars, drinking wine. I mean, this is more than a friendly move, if you know what I mean, and after the other day…” Don’t think about the other day. Don’t think about jumping him right now.
“I get that,” Mason said. “But this is a solution. So, no harm, no foul.”
“There’s potential for a lot of foul. I just—I don’t think it would be right. I’ve got some experience with this kind of thing.”
“How so?” He scooched around on the blanket, looking at me full-on, one arm resting on his raised knee. The scent of his cologne was too much—not overpowering, per se, just too much for me to handle, right now.
“I—fuck.”
“If you insist.” He cracked a smile, and I swatted him on the arm.
“This is difficult for me to talk about, but—well, shit. OK. Before I came to Stoneport, I was engaged,” I said and swallowed hard. My pulse raced. I was actually telling this damn story. I’d sworn I never would, that I’d keep it buried, no matter what my therapist had said. It made me feel weak and dumb, every part of it.
“Go on,” Mason said, though his smile had vanished. His eyes flashed by the light of our lantern. Was he jealous?
“I was engaged,” I repeated. “His name was Kieran, and he was a chef. A sous chef in our restaurant. Things were great for a while, and then, all of a sudden, they weren’t so great anymore. Kieran was—he was vocal in his disapproval of things I did. Gaslighting, I think they call it. Manipulation. He tried making me feel small, which goes against everything I believe about myself, and I didn’t put up with it. That led to a lot of fights.”
Mason nodded, silent. I had his full attention, and it soothed me, strangely.
“It came to a head the weekend after I’d been out of town attending a conference—culinary management stuff, you know. Bunch of restaurateurs get together and rub shoulders, network. So, I came home and found him in bed with someone else.”
“Last straw,” Mason growled.
“Exactly. So, I kicked him out of the house.” I inhaled sharply. You can do it. It was months ago. You can do it. “This part is really tough for me to talk about. I hate, hate, hate seeming weak, so excuse me if my voice quivers or something embarrassing like that.”
He reached out and took my hand, squeezed it gently. Warmth pulsed through me, a mixture of arousal and comfort. A mix I hadn’t felt before. “I got you,” Mason said.
“A few weeks later, I was in the restaurant,” I said and gulped again. “I’d already been to see my lawyer about the equitable division of the restaurant and how to go about that. See, things were complicated. When we first opened it, I was low on cash, and Kieran floated the capital. He did the business side of things, sorted out insurance, opened the bank account, and so on and so forth. As it happened, the restaurant was registered in his name and his alone. Sole proprietor.”
“What? How?” Mason frowned, still holding my hand. “Surely you signed papers jointly to open it.”
“I did,” I replied. “I just never signed them at a bank or in front of anyone else. Kieran brought the copies to me, I read through them, carefully, and signed them. I trusted him, and I can only assume that he scr
ewed me by trashing the documents and doing it all himself.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Anyway, I was determined to fight it out in court. I poured blood, sweat, and tears into that restaurant. The menu was totally unique, and I was proud of it.” I squeezed his hand tightly. “As I said, a few weeks after the whole cheating incident, I was in the kitchen after work, whipping up something for myself before I headed home. It was quiet, I was alone. A fire started in the building. I was trapped. Firefighters saved me.”
“Jesus Christ.”
I fought back memories of what’d happened. “So. So, it turned out that the fire had been arson. Someone had set it. I don’t know if the insurance ever paid out, but if they did, I naturally didn’t get any part of it. And I had nothing left. The restaurant was damaged beyond repair. Kieran refused to fix it or to talk about steps forward for the business. Worse, a lot of the people I’d rubbed shoulders with in the past thought I’d set the fire to claim insurance. It didn’t matter that there was no evidence to suggest I’d done it. My life in New York was pretty much over.”
“So you moved down here,” Mason said.
“The opportunity presented itself, and I took it.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Wow, it feels kinds nice, actually, having spoken about that. I haven’t with anyone except my therapist back in NYC. It feels good. Thank you.”
He let go of my hand, and, a second later, firm arms wrapped around me. He dragged me into his lap and positioned me on it, straddling him, then enveloped me in a bear hug, pressing his nose to my ear and inhaling. “You’re the strongest woman I know,” he said.
I swallowed the emotion clogging my throat. It wouldn’t go down. Tears threatened, but I held them back. I wasn’t weepy. I wasn’t.
Mason cupped my face in both hands and drew me back from him. Our gazes met, and he searched mine, then trailed his over my face, down to my lips, to my ears, my nose, my cheeks, and back up to my eyes. “Let me help you. You’re strong, angelface, but I’m stronger, and I’ll make sure that you never have to experience that type of shit again.”