However, there was a slim, glass buffet table that held several framed photographs. It seemed so homey when compared to the austere feel of the rest of the space.
Jada ambled over to the buffet and perused the collection of pictures. There was a photograph of his parents on their wedding day. Jada picked the picture up, laughing at the massive afro on the groom’s head. The couple had to stand at least a foot apart just so Cecilia Coleman, who looked as radiant as ever, could be seen.
As she studied the photograph, Jada was struck by how closely Mason resembled his father. She picked up a picture of father and son in fishing gear. Mason couldn’t have been more than six years old. He was holding up a tiny fish, but by the proud smile on his face one would think he’d reeled in a marlin. In all the years she’d known him, Jada doubted she’d ever seen Mason so cheerful and carefree as he was in this picture.
A gentle ache echoed in her heart for the young boy who had been forced to become the man of the house at such an early age. He shouldered so much responsibility, but in all the years she’d known him, he never complained.
She set the picture back on the table and took a slow turn, her gaze encompassing the entire room. Jada eyed the smaller arched entryway that led to the hallway, which she knew led to his bedroom and home office. But she felt as if she’d violated his privacy enough; she would not intrude more than she had already.
Instead, she gathered the bags of decorations she’d bought for the party and began putting them up around the living room.
Twenty minutes later, Jada heard the smooth rumble of a car engine and the distinct whirl of the garage door opening. Her heart started beating ten times faster, but she forced herself to keep her attention centered on the curtain of cascading foil hearts she was hanging across the entryway between the living room and kitchen.
Moments later, she heard the door that led from the garage opening.
The sound of Mason’s footsteps against the hardwood floor as he walked toward her pounded in her ears…and in her blood, causing it to rush through her veins like a river in spring.
“Hi,” he greeted from behind her.
Jada glanced over her shoulder, trying to act nonchalant. “Hi.”
How could a single syllable come out so damn breathy?
Another few awkward moments passed.
“So, Kiera’s party is tonight, huh?”
“It starts at seven.”
She turned back to the curtain, and was unbelievably grateful when he took the hint and headed toward the hallway leading to the back of the house.
She just didn’t know how to handle this new, unexpected turn in their relationship. She had never been at a loss for words when it came to speaking to Mason. It’s just that usually her words came in the form of cheap shots or heated arguments. How were they supposed to act now that he’d had his tongue in her mouth?
Her stomach clenched as warmth flooded her lower region. Jada just suffered through it. It took too much energy to fight the visceral reaction she experienced whenever she thought about that kiss.
She moved the step-stool ladder to the entryway that led to the dining room and began hanging a matching glittery curtain along the top.
“Jada, we need to talk about what happened the other night,” Mason said from behind her.
She yelped, twisting around and nearly losing her balance. She hadn’t even heard his approach.
“Hold on there,” he said, steadying her with both hands at her waist. “I think one ladder accident a month is enough.”
Her skin tingled where he touched her, despite the layer of clothing between her waist and his fingers. She climbed down from the ladder, noticing he was wearing only socks, which explained why she hadn’t heard him walking up to her.
She folded her arms across her chest and nervously moistened her suddenly dry lips. “What is it about the other night that you want to discuss?”
Mason stuck one hand in the pocket of his black pants, while he brought the other up to massage the back of his neck.
“Well, there’s a lot we can discuss, but the part when our tongues got to know each other better is what’s been on my mind lately.”
Jada thanked God that her arms were already covering her chest, because her nipples instantly sprouted to attention.
“That should at least warrant a conversation, don’t you think?” Mason asked.
She cleared her throat, giving herself time to think. “Circumstances being what they were, it’s understandable that…that something like that occurred.”
His brow dipped low. “So, that’s your take on it?”
“Mason, it was just a kiss.”
Annoyance flashed across his face. “Can any kiss between the two of us be considered just a kiss?”
“For God’s sake, Mason. We’ve been at each other’s throats since the day we met. Why would you think one kiss would make any difference whatsoever?”
The intensity of his stare as he regarded her with those deep brown eyes set off a bevy of nervous flutters along her skin. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. When he spoke, his voice was low and husky, in a mesmerizing, breath-stealing kind of way.
“You want to know why I think one kiss makes a difference?” He held his palm up. “Because I can still feel where your nipple was pressed up against my hand. The feeling won’t go away.”
Just like that, her nipples hardened even more. Jada hugged herself tight, her eyes falling closed. “Mason, what do you want from me?”
“I want you to acknowledge what happened the other night.” He captured her chin and tilted her head up. “Did you ever stop to wonder if maybe all this time there’s been more than just negative feelings between us? Maybe there’s been something else beneath the surface that neither of us were brave enough to admit to.”
“I was married for the majority of the time we’ve known each other,” she reminded him in a voice so faint she could barely hear it herself.
He drew his fingers along her jawline, caressing her skin, his touch achingly tender. His other hand cradled the back of her head, his fingers massaging her scalp with gentle circles.
Holding her steady, Mason whispered, “You’re not anymore.”
Jada braced herself in the seconds before his lips touched hers, but the impact still hit her with the force of a meteor crashing into the Earth.
Mason wasted no time, his tongue moving with an insistence much like he’d shown at her apartment. He masterfully took charge of her mouth, pushing past the seam of her lips and plying the inside with his tongue. He brought his other hand up and held her head steady as he licked and sucked and tasted, eliciting all manner of sensations in her, causing them to resonate throughout her body.
The feeble protest she considered voicing was no match for the part of her that demanded she enjoy every single bit of his kiss for however long she could. Jada angled her head to the side and soaked in this feeling, loving the way he took his time, nipping at her bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before sucking on it.
His lips seared a path along her jawline. Jada angled her head back, giving him room as he kissed his way down her neck, nibbling and lapping at her skin.
Mason backed her up against the dining room table. With one hand he swiped the sex toys and decorations cluttering the table to the floor, then he grabbed her by the hips and sat her atop the polished wood, stepping between her spread legs and fitting his body against hers.
Jada ran her hands up the silky softness of his button-down shirt, marveling at the contours underneath. She pulled his shirt from the waistband of his pants and pushed her hands up, loving the feel of his skin against her fingers.
“God, Mason! Are you kidding me?” she asked as her head fell back.
“What?” he murmured against her neck. The moist tip of his tongue trailed along the base of her throat, triggering a maelstrom of butterflies to flitter in the pit of her stomach.
“All this time.” She gasped. “You and this tong
ue have been here all this time.”
Jada felt the rumbled of his deep laugh against her skin and it set off yet another ripple of sensations in her belly. And lower.
He brought his mouth back to hers, while his hands swooped down and cradled her ass. Mason pulled her more tightly against him, until their bodies were flushed.
Jada let out a soft whimper at the undeniable hardness pressing against her. Her body was on fire, every inch of her skin igniting with excited little bursts of heat. She wanted more of that hardness. She wanted to feel it inside her, buried deep, while the muscled contours of his chest flattened her breasts.
Good God, how she wanted that!
The sound of a car engine rumbling outside wrenched her out of her pleasure-soaked fantasy.
“Mason, stop,” she said against his lips. “That’s probably Kiera.” She pushed against his chest. “Mason, Kiera’s here.”
“So,” he said.
She pointed to his crotch. “Do you really want your little sister to see you like this?”
Oh, God. She’d caused that.
She was responsible for giving Mason Coleman an erection to rival any erection she’d ever seen.
“Oh, my God. Mason, what are we doing?”
A sexy smile tilted up his lips. “If I have to explain it, Eric really wasn’t doing his job.”
He pressed a swift kiss to her lips and headed for the back hallway. Mere seconds later, Kiera walked through the door.
Jada hopped off the dining room table and straightened her clothes. She combed her fingers through her wavy, natural curls.
“I’ve got the…snacks,” Kiera trailed off as she walked into the dining room carrying a tray. She gestured to the mess on the floor. “What happened here?”
Jada waved her off. “I tripped and knocked all of this off the table trying to break my fall. You know how much of a klutz I am.” She stooped down and started picking up the items Mason had swept off the table before he’d lifted her onto it.
“Did you hit yourself when you fell?”
Jada looked up. “What?”
Kiera gestured to her own collarbone. “You’ve got something red forming there. Did you bruise yourself?”
That wasn’t a bruise. That was the result of Mason sucking on her neck.
She stood and grabbed the tray from Kiera. “So, what kind of appetizers did you make?” Jada asked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from “injuries” she didn’t want to explain.
She followed Kiera out to her car to get the rest of the appetizers. When they returned, Mason was walking into the kitchen, buttoning the cuffs on a new, freshly pressed shirt.
“Hi,” he said, giving Kiera a kiss on the cheek. “Did you win the bid for the Chamber of Commerce banquet?”
“I don’t know yet. They still haven’t contacted me.”
“You need me to make a call?”
“No! I’d rather they choose me because they like my food, not because my big brother called in a favor, thank you very much.”
“Fine,” Mason said with a sigh. “I’m going out tonight so that I don’t disturb your party.” He glanced over at Jada. “Matthew Gauthier and I are going to talk about boring law stuff over dinner.”
Jada didn’t want to examine why her emotions went from mournful to euphoric in the span of two seconds. Though it wasn’t as if she had to think very hard to figure it out. The thought of Mason going out with someone other than a colleague after the way he’d kissed her just minutes ago made her stomach hurt.
The fact that she had no right to feel any way whatsoever about who he went out with made her stomach hurt even more.
Jada cleared her throat. “There’s a rumor going around that Matthew Gauthier is thinking of a possible state senate run,” she said.
Mason hunched his shoulders. “Matt’s being pretty tight-lipped about it, but if I were a betting man, I’d put my money on it that he will.”
Matthew Gauthier was well-known and well-respected throughout Maplesville. His ancestors had founded the neighboring town of Gauthier.
“He would make a good senator,” Jada remarked. “He’s got the temperament for it.”
Mason chuckled. “Yeah, I’m not sure how well I’d do in some of the situations Matt’s found himself in.”
Kiera held up both hands. “Hold on a minute. What’s going on here? You two have been in each other’s company for more than thirty seconds and you’re not biting each other’s heads off. That has to be a record.”
That sexy half-smile formed on Mason’s lips again. “Jada and I can be civilized to each other. Can’t we, Jada?” He winked at her. “Have fun at the party,” he said before turning for the door.
Jada tried not to stare as he made his way out of the house, but it was as if her brain had decided to rebel. She could not drag her eyes away. After Mason closed the door behind him, she turned to find Kiera staring her down with a probing, curious glint in her eyes.
“I guess we need to get back to work,” Jada said. “We don’t have much time before guests start arriving.”
Kiera just continued to stare.
Jada pointed toward the dining room. “I’ll…uh…I’ll get back to it.”
She got out of there before Kiera could ask any more questions.
***
Mason entered Emile’s, located on Main Street in the heart of Gauthier, about twenty minutes from Maplesville. Not only was the food at Emile’s some of the finest in south Louisiana, but it was the only restaurant within a thirty-mile radius that used cloth napkins. Everyone in Maplesville knew that if you were looking for anything more than casual dining, you had to make the drive to Gauthier.
There had been some bad blood between the neighboring towns in recent months. A growing number of Gauthier’s residents felt that the new retail and eating establishments in Maplesville were encroaching on the family-owned businesses here in Gauthier. But if the crowded sidewalks he had to navigate through on his way to Emile’s was any indication, Gauthier’s residents had nothing to worry about. Main Street seemed more popular than ever.
As he made his way through the elegant dining room, Mason spotted Matthew Gauthier already seated at a table. As he approached, Matt stood, greeting him with a handshake and one-armed hug. The two of them had attended law school together. This area didn’t boast many attorneys, so they tended to get together now and then to talk shop.
“Haven’t heard from you in a couple of months,” Matt said. “That big firm keeping you busy?”
“It’s tax season,” Mason answered, figuring it was answer enough.
Matt nodded, swirling the amber liquid around his highball glass before taking a sip. He tilted the glass toward Mason. “Want one?”
“No, thanks.”
“Forgive me. I forgot only a thousand-dollars-a-bottle scotch touches those lips.”
Mason shrugged off his friend’s remark. “I don’t drink much. When I do, I want it to be good.”
The waiter came over to their table, and they both placed orders for Emile’s famous crawfish etouffee. When the waiter left them, Matt folded his hands on the table and shot Mason a direct look. “Okay, what’s going on? You said you needed to run something by me.”
Mason let out a sigh, and for a minute, reconsidered that drink. He gave Matt the condensed version of his dilemma over Oscar Davis’s tax havens.
“The CPA sounds like a prick,” Matt remarked.
“He’s been the biggest pain in my ass,” Mason said. “The thing is, I brought this client in expecting him to be my ticket to a partnership.”
“But…?”
Mason glanced up at his friend, then brought his eyes back to the fleur de lis napkin ring he’d been fingering. “I’m not sure I can look past the gray areas, and it’s driving me crazy,” he admitted. “Remember when I vowed to be this cutthroat attorney back when we were in law school? What happened to that guy?”
“You were never that guy,” Matt said. “Being cutth
roat just isn’t in you. And contrary to popular opinion, you and I both know that lawyers actually do possess souls.”
Mason nodded. He looked over at his friend, his brow quirked in inquiry. “What about politicians?”
“Some of them do.” Matt tipped his head back and emptied his highball. “And I haven’t decided about the senate race, so don’t ask.”
Mason rolled his eyes. He knew Matt was holding out on him, but he had too much on his own plate right now to press him. If and when Matt called on him to help with a possible senate bid, he’d be there to offer assistance.
“Back to the reason you asked me to meet you for dinner,” Matt continued. “I can tell this tax haven situation is weighing on your conscience.”
“Of course, it is,” Mason said. “I just keep thinking about how disappointed my dad would be if I sold out.”
“You don’t need to hear my opinion on this; you already have your answer.”
“But I want that partnership,” Mason said.
He just wasn’t sure whether he was willing to pay such a high price. What good was a partnership if he wasn’t able to look himself in the mirror?
When he woke the next morning, Mason moved on autopilot, getting dressed and doing what he had done nearly every Saturday morning for over a decade. He headed to his mother’s for a pancake breakfast.
He entered the house and his mouth instantly watered at the aroma of spicy breakfast sausage.
“Good morning,” Mason called as he walked into the bright yellow kitchen of the house his mother bought after their childhood home burned to the ground. His mom had been here longer than she’d been in their first house, but his father had never lived here, so for Mason, it never quite had the same feeling of home.
He walked over to his mother, who was at the stove nudging fluffy pancakes with her spatula, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, baby,” she said, returning his kiss.
Kiera sat at the round breakfast table, clipping coupons from a stack of circulars. A few months ago, his mother had embarked on a coupon craze after seeing a show on television. Her garage was now packed with a bunch of stuff she didn’t need, but that she insisted would one day come in handy.
A Little Bit Naughty (Moments in Maplesville) Page 8