Her disappointed tone tugged at his heartstrings, and the truth came out. “I never knew my father, and my mother’s gone.”
“Oh, Mason.” She turned a compassionate gaze on him, and his insides went soft. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She was a drug addict. I was taken away from her when I was six. I grew up in the foster-care system, went into the military at eighteen, then worked at Darkbird. Started my business five years ago, and now here I am, all grown up and doing great. So, how about we finish our grocery shopping?”
He’d tried to keep his tone light, but the look in her eyes told him he’d failed miserably. He could tell she had more questions, but he needed to get this shopping trip back on course. “Sorry, but I don’t usually talk about that stuff.”
“It’s okay. We don’t have to.”
They shopped in silence for a while, and as they walked past two pretty women, Remi leaned closer and said, “Did you see the ass on that redhead?”
He chuckled, glad for her levity. “Actually, I wasn’t looking.”
“Dude,” she said huskily. “You missed out.” She grinned, laughing softly.
She had the greatest laugh, and Mason wanted to hear more of it.
They grabbed eggs, hit the spice aisle, and headed for the registers. When they passed a display of cantaloupes, Remi picked up one in each hand, holding them in front of her chest, and said, “Check out these melons.”
“Speaking of melons.” He glanced at her chest and said, “How’d you pull that off?”
She set a melon in the cart and said, “They’re all strapped down. Look.” She thrust her hips forward and pulled her jeans tighter, revealing a masculine bulge between her legs.
A surprised “Holy shit” burst out before he could stop it. He cleared his throat and said, “Seriously?”
“Aiden taught me never to do anything halfway. Might as well nail the part, right?” She cupped her crotch, jiggling it. “I don’t know how men manage with all this hardware. It’s so uncomfortable.”
You have no idea . . .
CHAPTER SEVEN
AFTER THEIR GROCERY excursion, Remi scrubbed off her makeup and tattoos. She’d always wanted to get a tattoo, a small JUST BREATHE on the inside of her wrist. She was afraid of how much it would hurt, but maybe one day . . .
She changed into her favorite cutoffs, the dark ones, frayed at the edges and torn across the right hip, and her softest army green tank top, and headed downstairs, excited for her foray into cooking.
The scent of something delicious met her on the way into the kitchen. Colorful peppers, chicken, shrimp, and a host of other foods they’d bought were spread across the center island. Mason stood by the stove, his head bopping to the beat of music streaming from his phone, reminding Remi of the way he’d danced behind her last night. The memory of his hard body brushing against her and his hot breath washing over her cheek sent a scintillating shiver skating through her.
“How long are you going to stand there staring at me?” He glanced over his shoulder, grinning. His gaze slipped appreciatively down the length of her, and his jaw clenched.
She put her hand on her hip and said, “Now who’s staring?”
“You were.” He turned his attention back to the stove. “Good thing you don’t still have your male hardware on, or the rise caused by all that ogling you’re doing would be all the proof I’d need.”
“I was not staring at you.”
“Whatever you say, Princess.” He carried two plates of omelets to the table and said, “Have a seat. Before we get started we both need to eat.”
She sat down and said, “That looks amazing. You just whipped that up?”
“No, the food fairies came in while you were upstairs.” He grabbed silverware from the drawer and handed her a fork with a wink. “Sweet peppers, egg whites, sliced mushrooms, zucchini, and seasonings. Quick and easy.”
She took a bite, and an explosion of delicious herbs kissed her tongue. “Mm. What is that zing I taste?”
“Dijon mustard. I whisked it into the eggs with chives and parsley.”
“You might just make me fall in love with eating.”
He lifted his gaze to hers. “Good. You could use a little love in your life.”
“Is that a dig or an observation?” She ate another bite.
“Neither,” he said, eyes on his eggs. “Just an off-the-cuff comment.”
She didn’t believe Mason made off-the-cuff comments, but she didn’t want to get into her nonexistent love life, either, so she let it go.
“You and Raz seemed pretty cozy at that meeting. Is it hard to work with your ex?”
“We’re friends. It’s not weird.”
He lifted serious eyes to hers and said, “Do you have any reason to believe he might be the person who is stalking you?”
“Raz? No way. He could have any woman he wanted.”
He shoveled eggs into his mouth. When he finished the omelet, he carried his plate to the sink and said, “Maybe you’re the one he wants.”
“Hardly. We went on two dates and the press made it seem like we were planning our wedding.”
“So what went wrong?” he asked as he washed his plate.
“Nothing really. My publicist, Shea, set us up on a whim, but we had no chemistry. We’re good friends now, as I said, so something good came of it.”
He reached for her plate and said, “I need to ask you something personal, for the investigation. I did a background check on Raz, and he seems like he’s on the up-and-up, but you never know about scorned lovers.”
“We weren’t lovers. I just told you we had no chemistry.”
“People sleep together for lots of different reasons, and chemistry doesn’t always play a part.”
She snagged a piece of pepper from the cutting board and popped it into her mouth. “True, but for the record, chemistry is everything in my book. I have to feel it to kiss a guy, much less have sex with him, which is why I have such a hard time with intimate scenes. Anyway, what was your question?”
“You’ve already answered it.”
“Wow, that was easy. Now can we take Raz off your stalker list?”
“Possibly. I didn’t come up with any other guys you went out with in the last two years. Is there anyone else I should check out?”
“As lame as it makes me sound, no. I’ve been pretty busy filming and keeping up with my appearances and other commitments. The little downtime I’ve had I’ve spent catching up with my friends, or just catching my breath. But I’m really looking forward to learning to cook things like the omelet you made me.”
“It will probably be the easiest thing you’ve ever done.” He picked up his phone and said, “Any preference for music? I need it on while I cook.”
“Something danceable.”
As he navigated on his phone, he said, “You are just trouble waiting to happen, aren’t you?”
“I never get in trouble.”
“Four bodyguards in as many months and a baseball cap tell me otherwise.” As Rihanna’s voice rang out, Mason put his phone on the counter and said, “Time to light up your taste buds.”
Mason cooked the way he did everything else, with complete focus and unflappable confidence. He sliced, diced, peeled, mixed, and steamed, while patiently explaining every step to Remi. And his choice of music was just as good. Remi grooved to the beat as she followed his instructions, cubing chicken, chopping vegetables, and mixing herbs. She swayed to “Sexy Love” by Ne-Yo, watching Mason’s butt move to the beat as he rinsed the shrimp for the kabobs, reminding herself that despite how well they got along or how much fun they were having, he was still just doing his job. Friends were all they would ever be.
Did it make her pathetic that she’d gladly take just that? Because when she was with him, she was happy. He made her think, and feel, and want to discover more about herself.
“How’s that rub coming?” He looked over his shoulder, catching her checking him out. Again.
“It’s ready.” She turned back to the counter to avoid his all-seeing eyes.
She told herself that just because she enjoyed looking at him didn’t mean she was like the evil, slutty girl in movies trying to scam on someone else’s boyfriend.
“Great. Now let’s get those pretty hands dirty,” he said. “How are you at handling meat?”
Her mind tramped down a dirty path as he moved beside her. Okay, maybe I need to stop looking at you that way.
“Have you ever applied a rub to it?”
“That’s a little personal, don’t you think?” she joked.
His amusement climbed his features, dancing in his typically serious eyes. “You’ve got a dirty mind, Princess. I was talking about chicken.”
“Mm-hm. That’s what all the guys say.” Oh yeah, she could totally do this friendship thing. She just had to stop looking at his butt. And his arms. And those eyes . . .
“I’m nothing like all the guys, and trust me, you’re nothing like other women, either. How many women could pull off being a dude at the grocery store?”
“I did make a pretty good guy, didn’t I?”
“The hottest. Now, how about we get your mind back on cooking and spread some of that rub on the chicken.” He sprinkled a spoonful of the rub she’d made over a chicken breast, and then he began rubbing the herbs and spices into the meat. “You can’t be afraid to get dirty. Apply it generously, covering the top and bottom. Go ahead—you try.”
She washed her hands, and then she sprinkled rub over a few more chicken breasts and began rubbing it in the way he’d shown her. “It doesn’t stick very well.”
“Here, let me show you.” He moved behind her, covering her hands with his. “The oil will make it stick, but you have to press down as you spread it.” His hands swallowed hers as they spread the rub over the breasts, oil and spices coating their fingers.
“You’re getting it,” he coaxed, adding more rub to the chicken. “Don’t be afraid to put a little pressure into it.”
“I’m being taught by a master in the kitchen. You make it look easy,” she said.
He wrapped his fingers around hers, curling them around the chicken breast. She imagined her fingers curled around his hard length and closed her eyes, letting him guide her. His chest pressed against her back, his hot breath coasting over her cheek, their fingers intertwined. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was a master in the bedroom, too.
“You’re a natural.” His gravelly voice seeped beneath her skin like a caress. “Have you enjoyed your trip down Normalcy Lane today?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Maybe we can try it again someday soon without the disguise, and work on those boundaries we talked about.”
He stepped to the sink to wash his hands, and her eyes flew open.
Boundaries.
Holy shit, my heart is racing over someone else’s man.
I am the evil friend after all!
CHAPTER EIGHT
FRIDAY-AFTERNOON SUNSHINE TURNED to evening clouds, but Remi would take a cloudy night with her closest girlfriends over a sunny day alone any day of the week. The fun hadn’t stopped since the moment Aurelia, Willow, Piper, Talia, and Bridgette arrived two hours ago carrying six-packs of her favorite cocktail, Kinky Pink, a box of Willow’s famous Loverboys, a delicious cross between éclairs and cupcakes, and the warmth of good friends. Now, with empty plates littering the table, their bellies full of food Remi had actually helped make, music filling the air, and smiles on their faces, Remi and her besties sat by the stone firepit. At times like this, Remi wished she could walk away from her overburdened schedule for good, give up the glamour and glitz for nights spent sharing secrets and planning their future families. But on the heels of those wishes came others, like her desire to do more, although she really had no idea what more might entail. Take on more meaningful, complex roles? Earn a Golden Globe? Or something completely different?
It didn’t matter, because reality always crept in.
While her girlfriends were planning futures including significant others and babies, Remi was in a holding pattern, trying not to think about whether her stalker would suddenly reappear and wondering if she’d ever have a real relationship. Would she ever find someone she could trust enough to laugh and cry with? To share these types of thoughts with? Someone she’d look forward to seeing as much as she did her girlfriends?
She looked across the lawn at Mason, who was walking along the fence line again and glancing back at her every few minutes, and her pulse spiked.
Someone who isn’t off-limits?
Mason was acutely aware of everything about her, whether he was working on his computer, standing guard outside a door, or traipsing through the yard. She knew he was always watching out for her. Last night after they’d prepared the food for the party, she was looking over scripts her agent had sent her and Mason had enticed her into binge-watching Daredevil on Netflix. She would never watch that show by herself, but with him she enjoyed it. Of course, she spent much of the night watching him instead of the show, but still, she enjoyed what she had seen—of both.
“Remi, can you email me your recipe for skinny guacamole?” Bridgette asked, bringing Remi’s mind back to their conversation. Bridgette rubbed her belly, looking cute in maternity jeans and a peasant-style blouse. “The way I’ve been eating, they’ll need to roll me into the delivery room.”
Aurelia pulled out the hem of her shirt, which had FEED ME AND TELL ME I’M PRETTY emblazoned across the chest, and said, “I’m getting you one of these shirts. You know, if Bodhi had been more of a horndog like Ben, you could have skipped the whole pregnancy thing, like me.” She sat with her black Converse propped up on the edge of the firepit, her dark hair pulled up in a high ponytail.
“You say that so casually, but I know it wasn’t easy when you found out about Bea.” Talia pushed her glasses to the bridge of her nose and leaned back in her chair. She was the most careful of the Dalton sisters and had always been the voice of reason. “Ben is truly lucky to have you. I don’t even want to think about Derek with other women.”
“People have sex, Tal, and pregnancies happen. It’s not like Derek was your first,” Piper said. “Get over it already. It’s just sex.”
“I know, but . . .” Talia shrugged.
“I’m with Talia on that front,” Bridgette said. “I hate thinking about Bodhi and any other woman, but I also love him so much, if a baby he’d fathered appeared on our doorstep tomorrow, I’d gladly raise it as my own, just as he’s raising Louie.”
“Oh, that’s not what I meant. I’d absolutely love any child of Derek’s no matter who the mother was,” Talia clarified. “I just meant that at first it would hurt thinking about him having a baby with someone else.”
“It did,” Aurelia confessed. “But all it took was a few hours with Bea and Ben to know genetics didn’t matter. I love them so much it hurts sometimes.”
As the girls talked about loving their families, Remi tried not to think about Mason and his sweetheart, but this conversation wasn’t helping.
“I can’t imagine my life without either of them,” Aurelia said, “and hopefully I’ll never have to.”
Remi took the opportunity to redirect the conversation. “Aurelia, did you find a dress for Bea for your wedding?” Aurelia and Ben were getting married in a small family ceremony at the end of November.
“Yes! I can’t believe I forgot to show it to you at the fundraiser. We also got a new outfit for her to wear to Flossie’s birthday party next Sunday.” Aurelia pulled out her phone as they chatted about being excited to celebrate Flossie’s birthday. After finding the pictures she was looking for, she passed the phone around. “We did a photo shoot with Bea in her new dress and made it into a keepsake book for Flossie. We’re going to give it to her on her birthday.”
“Flossie will love that. Bea’s so stinking cute, I just want to kiss her little face!” Remi’s heart melted at chubby-cheeked Bea in
Ben’s arms, wearing a frilly pink dress with white stockings. She handed the phone to Willow, and her gaze caught on Mason heading toward the house. She wondered how serious his relationship was with his girlfriend. Were they thinking of marriage? Having a family?
Willow handed the phone to Talia and said, “One day we’ll have babies. Right now we’re keeping our eye on the prize—getting Zane’s movie made.”
“Looks like Remi’s got her eyes on another prize,” Piper said, jarring Remi enough to realize she was staring at Mason again.
“What? Sorry.” Remi tipped her bottle back, taking a long drink.
“First he protects you by dirty dancing with you, then he teaches you to cook, and now he’s got you spacing out,” Willow said with a curious look in her eyes. “I’m thinking you’re keeping secrets we need to know about.”
“Then you’re thinking wrong.” Remi sucked down the rest of her drink. “He’s been very clear about boundaries. The man is intent on keeping me safe, which I’m thankful for, but . . . I told him he didn’t need to hang around tonight, and he scoffed at me. He said he’d give me space, but that I wasn’t getting rid of him that easy.” She got up and grabbed another bottle of Kinky Pink, then flopped down in the chair with a sigh. “The problem is, getting rid of him is the last thing I want to do.” If she couldn’t be honest with her friends, who could she talk to?
Piper kicked her booted foot up on the edge of the firepit and said, “I do not see a problem with that scenario. That hottieguard is living in your mansion. You’re Remi Divine—you know how to seduce a man.”
“First of all, no I don’t, not really. I know how to fake it pretty well in movies, but I’ve never actually tried to seduce anyone off set. And more importantly, Mason is taken.”
“No way!” Willow snapped. “The man danced like he was ready to lay you down on the dance floor. If he’s taken, I feel sorry for his girlfriend. Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I heard him talking to her on the phone, and you know what? It shouldn’t surprise me. I mean, come on, you guys. Look at him. I saw him walking into the fundraiser when I first arrived, and I swear . . . You know how they say the earth stands still when you find the one? Well, apparently when you find someone else’s one, the world quakes beneath your feet. He’s just another thing that’s out of my reach. The suckiest part is that we’re literally together all the time, and I like being around him way too much, which makes me an awful person because he’s got a girlfriend. I know I have to stop being attracted to him, but how can I when I like everything about him? We binge-watched television for hours last night, like old friends. I keep telling myself, ‘friend zone, friend zone, friend zone,’ but turning off the attraction is like trying not to breathe. I know a gazillion people, and I’ve never met a man who sees me the way he does, or sees things in me that I didn’t even know existed.”
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