“I’m so sorry, Mason, but I have to go.” Maria moved her attention to Cole. “Would you mind driving me to my dad’s store? He said it was urgent.”
“I can take you,” Mason attempted to stand, but he was boxed in between the wall and Emma.
“No, no. You stay and enjoy your meal. It was really nice meeting you, Mason. And you too, Emma.”
Before he could get another word out, Maria and Cole were gone. He and Emma sat in silence, both staring straight ahead at the empty seats knowing they’d been had.
“Your meals,” the waiter said, delivering two meals. “Your friends took theirs to go,” he explained.
He sensed something fishy going on, and it had nothing to do with Emma’s hickory smoked salmon. She slid her plate across the table and moved to the other side. It was the first time he looked at her. Beautiful as always; fresh, clean, and perfect. Her hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail, but it was so long it still reached the center of her back. He got a quick glimpse of her legs, clad in a khaki skirt, and her arms were bare, exactly how he liked him. The light pink top accentuated her golden tan and shining eyes and did nothing but worsen the ache between his legs.
“Sorry about your date.”
“She wasn’t my…” He stopped himself and continued to work on processing the situation.
“Sure. Whatever.” Emma stabbed at her food, ripping the poor salmon apart.
Did Cole want to see if his brother could keep it in his pants? Was this some challenge? He wouldn’t cave. He wouldn’t break his brother’s trust again. “Let’s-let’s get this food wrapped up and I’ll d-drive you home.”
“Sure. Whatever,” Emma snapped.
Once the food was packaged and the bill paid—Mason was quick to note Cole took his own food home but didn’t pay for Mason’s or Emma’s—he and Emma quickly walked to his car. The ride to her house as quiet and as tense as the few minutes in the restaurant. As soon as he put the car in park she flew out the door and up the stairs to her apartment.
Noticing Cole’s work truck in the driveway, he turned off the ignition and let himself into his brother’s side of the duplex. As expected, the door was unlocked, he found Cole sitting in his recliner watching the ball game.
“Did I pass the test? I didn’t lay a hand on her. Hell, I didn’t even talk to her. Happy now?” He kicked the aging sofa, grabbed the remote out of his brother’s hands, and turned off the television. “What the hell was tonight all about?” He hated the cool, sly expression on Cole’s face. “You’re messed up, Cole. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“She’s all yours, brother.” Cole laughed. “You two are so head over heels in love—”
“I’m not in love—”
“Fine. Lust. I couldn’t stand a chance.”
“What are you saying?” Mason crossed his arms and towered over his brother. “You can’t just give her to me. It doesn’t work like that. She’s not a possession. She’s a woman.”
Cole stood up and slapped Mason on the back. “She was never mine, bro.” He shook his head and sighed. “Never mine.” He went into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Beer?”
“No. Explain.”
Letting out a dramatic sigh, Cole turned a kitchen chair backward and straddled it. “Emma and I are not dating. Never have and never were. Well, we almost hooked up one time, but it didn’t work.” He smiled. “I got her naked and while she’s got a to-die-for body, it was like looking at my sister. I couldn’t man up. She turned all giggly and it killed the mood. We laugh about it now. We weren’t meant to be. I love her, man. More than I’ve ever loved a woman, but not the way you obviously do.”
Mason stewed over the stunning announcement, clenching and unclenching his jaw. One little piece of news that pissed him off royally but also made his heart jump to his throat.
“Then why did you lead me on when I told you I slept with her.”
“Slept?” Cole snorted. “Sounded like a quick porno to me.”
“Shut the hell up. You know what I mean. Why did you make me think I broke the code?”
“Hey, hey, hey. I didn’t make you think anything. You came in here all hell bent on some confession thinking you broke the code. I simply didn’t correct you.”
“And why the hell not?”
“I had too much fun watching you squirm. But then guilt set in, so I set up tonight.”
“Why couldn’t you just tell me instead of bringing Maria in to it? God, what if she thinks I’m interested in her?”
Cole laughed. “Oh, there’s no chance of that. As soon as Emma showed up your mojo started leaking out of your pores. Besides, Maria was in on it from the beginning. She’s not interested in you or me anyway, but I think Emma may have stirred her up a little. Wouldn’t that be fun to watch?” Cole sipped his beer and laughed. “Man, you’re so freaking gullible. Didn’t you pick up on the fact that Maria drove herself to the restaurant? She didn’t need me to drive her anywhere. We realized we screwed up when we got to the parking lot, but you and your lover girl were probably too much in heat to notice.”
“You’re a bastard,” Mason cursed. “Did you ever stop to think about Emma? How do you think she feels right now?”
“Well, she wants you, knows you’re available, but is afraid to go after you, so I thought throwing in a bit of jealousy would do the trick.” He drained his beer and got up for another.
Mason repeated his string of curse words and stormed out of Cole’s apartment. He sat in his car seething. He saw movement in front of Emma’s window and he immediately felt guilty for the way he treated her.
Knowing full well Cole wouldn’t rectify the situation, Mason got out of his car and lightly tapped on Emma’s front door.
There was a sudden silence—possibly the muting of the television—and he tapped again. She still didn’t answer the door. Mason pulled out his cell and sent her a text.
*
Please let me in. I need to talk to you. He used proper capitalization and punctuation in a text. Of course he did. Emma kept her arms wrapped around her knees and stared at the front door, willing Mason to leave her alone. Once again, she made a fool of herself. It looked like an obvious and pathetic maneuver to ruin his date. Maria seemed sweet and nice, so innocent and so his type.
Her plan to woo Mason and make him want her washed away when she saw him with another woman. She felt like the piece of salmon the waiter delivered to her. Swimming upstream with a river full of competition. Apparently Mason was more like his brother than she thought, a ladies’ man, which was the main reason she never fell for Cole. He always had plenty of salmon to play with and choose from. The chances of getting picked and not getting fried were slim to none.
She knew why Mason wanted to talk to her, to ease his conscience so he wouldn’t feel as guilty while he boinked Maria. Mr. False Hope could knock and text all night. She wasn’t budging.
Her phone beeped again.
Please.
Great, now he sounded desperate. Good. That’s how she’d been feeling for weeks. Emma turned her phone off and threw it across the living room.
“Hi.”
Emma screamed and shot off the couch. Mason stood in her kitchen, his hands in his pockets and a sheepish apology on his face. “It was open.” He nodded toward her back door.
“That doesn’t mean you were invited in,” Emma muttered and went over to the front door. “This one’s open too. You can leave now.”
Mason walked over to the door and closed it, but stayed in the living room. When his arm brushed hers, she pulled away, singed from the heat, and pissed at her own reaction.
“This could be considered breaking and entering. I want you to leave.”
“I will. I n-need to say something first.” His hands returned to his pockets as he studied her knees. Better than her toes, but he still lacked in the eye contact department.
They stood in awkward silence again. Emma cocked her head to one side and crossed her arms.
“Waiting.”
“Can we sit?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Mason went over to the sofa and sat anyway. Emma stayed in her position by the door, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. She wasn’t sure what scared her. He would never physically hurt her, and he actually wanted to talk with her. She was being foolish by pushing him away, but she wasn’t about to admit that to him, or herself.
“I sh-shouldn’t have pushed you away after we…”
“Had wild monkey sex in your hallway?” Gosh it felt good to be bitchy.
Mason cringed. “Yeah. I was…s-surprised.”
“I believe your memory does not serve you correctly. You are the one who ravished me. I went in hoping for a kiss. You went in for the kill.” Not that she minded, but she wasn’t about to admit that either.
“I’m so, so sorry, Emma. I took advantage of you. It was just…you’re so…I couldn’t help it.”
Dang it, her knees almost buckled. She leaned against the wall in an attempt to hide her softening and to appear more defiant.
“After…” Mason ran his hands through his hair. “I was angry at myself because…I thought…I thought you and Cole…” He made eye contact for a second before dropping his gaze, and shrugged. “I thought I broke the code.”
“Code?”
“Brothers before girlfriends.”
“What?”
“I thought you and Cole were a thing and I s-s-sabotaged it.”
Realization hit her like an airbag to a face. She touched her cheek and nearly collapsed.
“He told me you two aren’t…that you’re friends and not in a, uh, romantic relationship.”
She moved closer to the couch and glared at him. “Let me get this straight. You thought Cole and I were an item, but you had sex with me anyway then pushed me away because you felt like shit for screwing your brother’s girlfriend but just found out your brother and I are not an item and are now coming to apologize?”
Ick, when she said it out loud it sounded tacky and terrible, but her heart interpreted it differently. Kind of sweet. Paige must be wearing off on her, romanticizing a twisted love triangle. Still, she wasn’t about to let him off the hook so easily.
“You’ve apologized, so now what?” Lord bless him, but the man looked completely shocked. She bet he hadn’t thought that far.
“I…I don’t know.”
Never one to complicate matters—Emma inwardly rolled her eyes and snorted at herself—she knew she had to make the next move.
“Do you like me?”
“Of course.”
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
Mason raised an eyebrow and stood up. “No.”
She gasped.
“I think you’re beautiful.”
She melted. “Oh.”
“Do you like me?” he asked.
“I did. And then I didn’t. But I think I do now.”
“Oh. Do you think I’m pretty?” he smirked.
“No.” She waited a beat. “I think you’re so damn hot.” They stood toe to toe, waiting for the other person to make the first move. They’d had wild monkey sex against a wall so kissing shouldn’t have been so anticipating. But it was. And it was well worth the wait.
Mason cupped her chin in his right hand and stroked his other hand down her back. Their bodies didn’t touch, simply a light joining of lips that sent shock waves of desire to the tips of her toes. It was beautifully amazing. He didn’t press hard but laid gentle, feather-like kisses on her lips and along her jaw. His mouth moved upward to her nearly transparent bruise and to the little nick above her eyebrow.
For the first time, Emma didn’t know what to do with her hands. Should she run them through his charcoal hair? Down his incredibly toned back? Grab on tightly to his butt? Her girly parts ached. She settled her hands on his shoulders so she could bring him in closer.
“My boo-boos need lots of kissing,” she whispered.
She felt him smile and return his lips to hers. Unfortunately, he stepped back but continued to stroke her hair.
“I should probably go.”
Emma nodded, but she really wanted to scream, “No! Stay.” But he was right. They needed time to heal, process, and collect their thoughts before they ended up in bed again. Not that she would complain if they did things out of order.
She watched until the red taillights disappeared into the night and then closed and locked the door.
Her cell phone beeped.
Will you please have dinner with me tomorrow night?
Smiling, Emma texted back: My place or yours?
Chapter 11
Getting ready for a date had never been so fun. Or stressful. Or frustrating. Emma had no idea what this dinner date meant. Or how Mason felt.
By the heat and hardness of his body last night, he felt the same way she did…does, but she wasn’t sure how fast or how slow he wanted to take things. Fearing she’d scare him off if she came on too hard, too strong—although nothing was as hard or strong as their quickie monkey sex—Emma aired on the side of caution and settled on second date mode.
Not as awkward as the first date, not as comfortable as a fourth, but somewhere in between. A cute teal skirt—it was August, after all—a simple, white, sleeveless top, paired with a sexy pair of do me now silver shoes sent the message of sex appeal without being too ostentatious.
One more layer of lip-gloss, a quick fluff of hair and she was primed to go. Emma loved driving in her new car but couldn’t help to feel nervous every time she started up the engine. The car appeared to be in the same spot, untouched, so she pressed on her key fob, unlocking the door and deactivating the alarm, and slid behind the wheel nearly burning the backs of her thighs on the hot leather seat. Knowing the car had not left her sight since she bought it gave her some sense of stability, but she became more aware of her surroundings, always on the watch.
She cranked the air conditioner but opened her moonroof, loving the feel of the sun on her shoulders. Beyoncé called out to the single ladies and Emma sang right along with her, feeling her mood brighten. She was on her way to dinner with a man who stirred up her insides and made her heart feel like a smooth, round stone, skipping along the water.
The long, wooded driveway opened up to his charming, quaint cottage. At first she thought it to be an odd choice of home for Mason—the sexy, silent man in an enchanted cottage—but the more she got to know him, the more it suited him. The house sat back from the road, had the most amazing view of the mountains, and a gentle flowing stream bordered the property line. The nearest neighbor was a half-mile down the road. Not too aloof to be called a hermit, but perfect for someone who valued his privacy.
Parking along the dry-stacked rock wall, Emma squared her shoulders, licked her lips, and patted her heart, willing it to settle down. She knocked once and waited. Rang the doorbell and waited. Turning the doorknob, she let herself in and had an instant case of déjà vu.
Music—not too loud this time—sang from the stereo in the living room. Classic rock tonight. “Hello? Mason?” No one replied. She walked into the kitchen and set her purse down. No smells emanated from the oven. Not a single pot on the stove. Maybe he was picking up takeout? No, his car was in the driveway and his text this morning boasted his culinary skills. Shower? Possibly. Emma smiled at the thought.
A loud curse rang out from one of the rooms down the hall. Slowly she tiptoed down the hall, stopping briefly when she passed the spot. It brought back ambivalent thoughts. Her girly parts remembered the spot in the hall quite well. But so did her heart. Mason had been terribly cruel to her, but now that she—and he—had all the facts, she understood why he’d had to break her heart.
“Mason?” She stepped into a room which appeared to be his office. A beautiful cherry desk took dominance in the room while matching bookshelves covered the opposite wall. The large bay window above his desk overlooked the beautiful White Mountains and a clear shot of Vermont in the horizon. The view was endle
ss. Mason swiveled in his leather chair, truly startled.
“Emma?” Realization donned his face. “Emma.” He cursed. “I’m so sorry. I got caught up in work and—” his cell phone rang, and he immediately picked it up. “Tucker.”
He turned back toward his computer, his fingers moving over the keyboard like busy little ants preparing for a storm. It was almost beautiful the way his hands moved, had she not felt so forgotten.
“If you wait until Monday your data vault will be shot to hell. If we don’t get it up and running soon, you’re going to lose a whole lot of data…yeah…sure…tonight?” Mason turned and peered up at Emma, guilt in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll book a flight…okay…North Conway has a private airport. Does that work? Okay…call me back and let me know.”
Mason turned back to the computer, made a few notes, logged off, then stood up. He closed his eyes and hung his head. “There’s an emergency with one of my biggest clients. I have to go to New York. Tonight. Now.”
“Oh, okay. That’s okay. I understand.”
“I’ll—”
The ringing of his cell phone cut off whatever he was about to say. He snatched it up and mouthed Sorry. Emma backed away and retreated to her car. It wasn’t déjà` vu. He didn’t break her heart out of cruelty this time.
It was work. She got it. Totally.
But pieces of her heart couldn’t help to float down into her stomach. Not caring if the wind frizzed her hair, she rolled down the window and turned her car around. The movement in her rearview mirror—Mason running down his driveway—caused her to brake suddenly.
“Emma,” Mason panted. “I’m sorry.” He stuck his head through the window and kissed her. The awkward angle and damn steering wheel got in his way, causing more bumping and scraping of teeth then it did gentle kisses, but the tiny broken pieces of her heart danced inside her chest and made her whole again.
Emma unbuckled her seat belt and put the car in park as Mason pulled his head out of the open window. She opened the door and he grabbed her in one quick motion pressing her body against her car, capturing her lips with his. He made sweet love to her mouth, not leaving a single centimeter of her mouth unexplored.
False Hope (McKay-Tucker Men Book 2) Page 12