by Parker, Ali
“That’s a great idea,” James agreed.
I made no commitment. Family dinner was one thing. I couldn’t quite see myself playing with kids and all that. Grayson would probably not want his little angel near me and my badness. I might rub off on the little girl.
The food made its way around the table. I helped myself to a very healthy helping of spaghetti and meatballs. My mom looked over at me and smiled. She loved to feed us. I certainly didn’t mind eating.
“You should really come home more often,” she said, looking at me.
I shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe,” I mumbled.
I didn’t consider the house my home. It was a house where people lived, but it wasn’t my home. I had never felt at home inside the walls. I had always felt different, out of place, and like the others wished I would crash at a friend’s house rather than darken the halls with my presence. I had been a rough kid. I could acknowledge that. It was me acting out.
“Oh, I’ll be right back,” my mom said, jumping up from her chair. “I forgot the parmesan!” she exclaimed rushing out of the dining room.
“What the hell, man?” Grayson growled.
I looked up from where I was swirling spaghetti on my fork. “What?” I asked, not surprised to see him scowling at me.
“Don’t be a dick to Mom. She doesn’t deserve your surliness.” Grayson growled.
“I’m not being a dick. Tell me, perfect Grayson, what did I do?” I asked dryly.
“He’s referring to your tone. Mom likes when you come around,” James said, trying to be reasonable.
“She is being genuine. She’s not just trying to make you feel better,” Jack chimed in.
I dropped my fork and looked at each of them. “I said maybe. Let’s be honest, she doesn’t give a shit if I’m here or not. She’s got all of you. All of her boys who she’s real proud of,” I said sarcastically.
“You’re right. I have no idea why she wants you here, but she does. Don’t be a dick about it or you’ll answer to me,” Grayson said, pounding his fist on the table.
I shot him a glare. We’d come to blows before and I would do it again. He might have gotten the better of Jack, but he wasn’t going to get the better of me. I would kick his ass and not even break a sweat.
“Back. The. Fuck. Off,” I said, my voice low as I stared at him.
Grayson opened his mouth to say something but snapped it shut when he heard our mother coming back in. “There we go!” she said cheerily, retaking her seat.
“Thank you, Mom. This is amazing. I have really missed your cooking,” I said, infusing sweetness into my voice.
She stopped what she was doing and looked at me. It was the look of a mother dissecting her child’s brain with no scalpel, just her sight. I looked away, hating that she detected my sarcasm.
“Come home more often and you can have all my cooking you want. I’ll even send you home with leftovers,” she said, not missing a beat.
I didn’t say anything. I could feel the tension in the room and knew I was the cause of it. It was always like that. I knew I set them all at unease. It’s why I stayed away. It was uncomfortable and I knew they would have a better time if I wasn’t there. I knew I would certainly have a better time anywhere than there at the table.
Chapter 16
Adelaide
I walked into what I used as the kitchen for the coffee shop. We served bagels with cream cheese and other quick-grab snacks like brownies and pastries. I was looking into getting into the sandwich business, but that was an investment I wasn’t sure I was ready to make just yet. I would have to take a loan to expand the kitchen, go through the permit process, and hire more staff. I was afraid. I could admit it. I was afraid to put out a bunch of money only to fail.
We’d just gotten through the lunch rush and I felt like I had been runover by a truck. I had been going hard for a long time. I was going to have to take a few days off. I could feel it coming, but I wasn’t there yet. I could push on.
I put on my gloves and grabbed the bag of bagels, slicing them open. It had been a busy day, which was great for business but rough on my body. I spread cream cheese on both sides, before putting it together and pushing it to the side to be individually wrapped. I was happy for the reprieve from the hustle and bustle of making coffees. The silence of the small kitchen was welcoming.
“Hey,” Deanna said, coming into the kitchen as she tied the small apron around her waist.
“Hey,” I greeted, looking up and finding it was indeed two o’clock. The day had flown by.
“There’s someone out front waiting to talk to you,” she said.
I rolled my eyes. “A customer complaint?”
“I don’t think so. I can finish this,” she said, stepping over to the counter.
I sighed, my small break from people was over. “Thanks,” I mumbled pulling off the gloves and tossing them in the trash.
I walked out front and found Mason sitting at a small table. My eyes widened. My first thought was to scold Deanna for setting me up. My second thought was kicking him out of my shop. I walked out to the dining room, glaring down at him.
He held up his coffee cup, waggling it in front of me. “I bought a coffee. I’m a paying customer.”
“What are you doing here?” I hissed, looking around to make sure no one could hear us.
He shrugged. “I was thirsty.”
I grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the chair and toward the back corner of the dining room where there were no customers and the music pumping through the speakers, low but still present, would hopefully shield our conversation.
“You can’t just show up at my work.” I glowered at him.
“Chill out, princess. I bought a cup of coffee. Isn’t this a public place?” he asked.
I closed my eyes. “Fine, but why here? Why are you here?”
“I wanted to ask you to dinner,” he said easily.
My mouth dropped open. “What? What are you talking about?” I asked him, shaking my head.
“Dinner. It’s a meal, generally eaten around sixish. I’m suggesting we eat that meal together in a restaurant.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mason, I told you. That night, it was a one-time thing. You and I are not a thing. This isn’t something that is going to happen again.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I said dinner, not sex. Although, if you feel like you have to have it, I might be amenable to that.”
I burst into laughter at the absurdity of me going to dinner with Mason—alone. Just the two of us. We couldn’t even have a conversation without driving each other crazy. He couldn’t stop insulting me, and I found myself wanting to snap at him for doing almost nothing. It was just what happened whenever we were around each other. The energy between us was electric.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“You. You have a classic case of selective hearing. You have apparently decided to ignore what I said and try to get me into bed again,” I snapped.
His eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, maybe. It isn’t going to happen again. Stop wasting your time coming by here, trying to look all cute and impress me by buying a stupid cup of coffee. It isn’t going to work,” I said firmly.
He scoffed. “Your ego is huge. Monstrous. Your ivory tower isn’t all that big. How does your head fit in there?”
The indignation I felt was surprising. “Don’t you dare start criticizing me and accusing me of being egotistical. You are the one who has the ego the size of Texas.”
He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter that I did. “You think you are better than me.”
“So,” I snapped, knowing it was a horrible comeback.
“So, I’ll be here at six. You’ll be ready to go, and we will go get dinner,” he said again, as if his word was the final authority.
“No, I won’t.”
He glared at me, his eyes fiery with anger and that same passion I had seen the other night. I refused to think about th
at night, blocking it out of my mind as I faced off against him. I would not be bullied into a dinner I didn’t want—even if I did want it. I found myself wanting to spend time with him. It was quite the conundrum. I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore.
“Adelaide, I’m not fucking around. Stop trying to play so goddamn hard to get. This is about a dinner. Nothing more than that.” He growled.
I clenched my jaw, shocked to be spoken to in such a way, but not all that surprised, because it was Mason. He was rude and obnoxious, and it was the only way he knew how to talk. I looked around, making sure no one else was listening.
“Look, this isn’t a thing. We are not compatible.”
He grinned. It was a sexy grin that sent heat racing through my body. “I think we’ve proven we are very compatible,” he said in a husky voice.
I gulped down the lump in my throat. “Stop,” I whispered.
“I’ll stop, but I will be back here tonight. The sign on the door says you close at five. I’ll be here at six. We’ll be going to dinner. Got it?” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.
I opened my mouth to protest, but quickly snapped it shut. He was standing way too close. The night we shared was flashing through my mind in little montages, hot and racy, and making me squirm a little. I stared back at him, pissed that I was so turned on in that moment.
“I—”
He slowly shook his head, his gaze holding mine. “Six. Wear what you have.”
“Mason, this is such a bad idea,” I whispered, trying a different approach.
“It isn’t. You need to put all of that out of your head. I’m sick of you looking at me like I’m something stuck to the bottom of your shoe. I’m not beneath you. In fact, you were beneath me,” he said, letting his eyes drop.
I gasped. I didn’t mean to, but it happened. His words had the desired effect. I hated him for it. I hated that he had managed to get me under his spell. I wanted to tell him to kiss my ass and push him away, but looking at him just then, I knew without a doubt, he wouldn’t budge. He’d only push back harder.
“You’re such an asshole,” I muttered.
He winked. “I know.”
He was standing entirely too close to me. I could feel his body heat, smell the coffee on his breath, and that damn sandalwood that tickled my senses and fired up my libido. He was too close. I didn’t trust him. No, I didn’t trust myself. I hadn’t been able to control my reaction the last time he’d been so close, and after knowing what he tasted like and felt like inside me, I felt volatile. I was going to push him in the bathroom and have my way with him if I didn’t get away from him.
“Whatever. Fine,” I grumbled, leaning away from him.
He looked at me, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You look flushed.”
“Knock it off,” I snapped.
“See you soon,” he whispered and walked out of the coffee shop.
I stood there, watching him walk away, my heart pounding hard in my chest. My mouth was dry. I licked my lips and did my best to regain my composure before I had to go back and face Deanna. She knew me too well and would know I was knocked off my game. Only Mason had that power. I didn’t like that he had that power.
I walked into the bathroom and locked the door. I dampened a paper towel and dabbed at my neck and cheeks, being careful not to wash away my makeup. I looked at myself in the mirror, noticing the dark circles under my eyes. I was a little embarrassed that Mason had seen me like that. I quickly shrugged it off. I didn’t care what Mason thought.
I felt like I had pulled myself together enough to face Deanna. I walked out of the bathroom, pasted a smile on my face, and headed back into the kitchen. Deanna turned to me, grimacing. “Don’t be mad at me.”
“You could have told me it was him.” I hissed.
“If I would have told you it was him, you wouldn’t have gone out there,” she reasoned.
“No, I wouldn’t have.”
“Well, what happened?” she asked.
I let out a long sigh. “He wants to take me to dinner.”
She smiled. “I told you.”
“What did you tell me?”
“Mason is a good guy at heart. I know how he comes off. I know what his reputation is, but I know him. The man. The man behind all of the tough stuff. Mason isn’t all bad,” she said.
I groaned. “I don’t want to get tangled up with him. I don’t want the headache.”
“Addy, just give it a chance. I’m not saying you guys have to date or anything serious. I mean, you had sex with him, the least he can do is buy you dinner,” she said with a laugh.
I put a hand on my hip. “Technically, he did buy me dinner before we had sex.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “I guess he did. Well, this is a thank-you dinner, I suppose.”
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m not trying to,” she retorted.
“This is so bad.” I groaned, slapping my hands over my face.
“Addy, let go of everything you think you know about him and give him a chance. Give yourself the chance to know him and then decide if you really hate him.”
I nodded. “Fine. We’ll see. This could just be his way of letting me down gently. He is so arrogant he probably thinks I’m pining for him. This is his little pity gift.” I scoffed.
She laughed. “Sure, I’m sure that’s all it is, him pitying you.”
I walked out of the kitchen to start the afternoon chores of cleaning up. All I could think about was the dinner. I wanted to know why. Why would he make a big thing of showing up at my shop and asking me to dinner? How did he even know where my shop was? I wondered if Deanna had put him up to it. I hated when she tried to play matchmaker. I was going to have to remind her how much I hated it and remind her again about the last time she tried to set me up with someone. It hadn’t ended well.
Chapter 17
Mason
I leaned against my bike, staring at the sign above Adelaide’s coffee shop. I was impressed with her. I didn’t know shit about running a business or starting one up. She had done it all on her own. She worked damn near every day from what I gathered to make it work. I had always thought of her as spoiled and uptight, but now I could see she was determined. I could understand how her determination could be mistaken for haughtiness.
An older couple passed by, stepping closer to the building and farther away from the curb. It wasn’t uncommon. I was used to people taking a look at me and deciding I was a criminal not to be trusted or tangled with. People like that didn’t realize I was sitting on a bike that cost close to two hundred grand. That wasn’t why I rode the bike. I rode the bike because I knew a good machine and I loved how sleek it looked.
I waited, watching the shop, occasionally catching a glimpse of Adelaide moving around. I thought about what my brothers had said the night before. Thought about their assumptions about me and how I was living my life. It was pointless to try and explain my point of view or why I did what I did. They could never understand reason. My mother had given up on me a long time ago. When I saw her, I sensed resignation. She seemed to accept I was never going to be one of the golden boys.
It was why I didn’t bother visiting. I knew they were all too kind to say it, well, that wasn’t entirely true, it had been said. They had told me more than once to get lost. Usually it had been after alcohol had been involved and I had been in yet another argument with one of my brothers. It was the same old thing, all the time. It was old and I was old enough to decide whether I wanted to go my mom’s house.
I wasn’t one of them. I smirked, thinking about what my father used to tell me all the time. I was unmotivated. I had no goals. I was going nowhere in life. I needed to make something of myself. It was always the same thing with him. I knew I disappointed him. Hell, I went out of my way most times to do exactly that.
I looked up when I heard a door open. Adelaide walked out, locking the door before she turned to look at me.
; “You’re here,” she said.
I grinned. “Very good.”
I grabbed the new helmet I had bought specifically for her. She was wearing her leather jacket, which was perfect for a ride on my bike.
“What’s that?” she asked, gesturing toward my bike.
“This is a motorcycle. I’m sure you have seen them before,” I said dryly, extending the helmet toward her.
She shook her head. “I’m not riding on that thing.”
“Sure, you are. You’ll love it,” I insisted.
“No way, Mason. I have a customer, an RN, she calls those things donor cycles. I like all my internal organs right where they are and I’d like to keep them,” she replied.
I laughed. Her wit was impressive. “Come on. Live a little.”
She sighed, snatching the helmet from my hand. “This is totally going to mess up my hair.”
“Where we’re going, no one’s going to care,” I told her.
“I don’t know, these things are dangerous,” she mumbled, chewing on her bottom lip.
“They are dangerous in the wrong hands. I’ll take it easy,” I assured her.
“Mason, you better or so help me, I will come back to life and kick your ass if you kill me,” she grumbled, pulling the helmet over her head.
I reached up to help her with the chin strap, adjusting it and testing to make sure it was on snug. The helmet looked huge on her tiny body, but it was doing something for me. A woman wearing a leather jacket and a helmet was pretty irresistible. I put on my helmet, got on the bike, and told her to get on. She hesitated. I knew she was weighing her pride against her fear. She climbed on the back, sitting high up on the seat. I grabbed her knee and tugged her forward.
“Hold on,” I ordered, starting the bike.
I waited, giving her a second to get used to the feel of the bike. I revved the engine. Her arms went around my waist. It was a loose hold that would end up with her flat on her back the second I hit the gas. I yanked her arm, jerking her against my back. She got the hint, sliding up against me, my hips cradled between her thighs and her breasts pressed against my back. The feeling of her being nestled tight against me felt right, like that was exactly where she belonged.