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“The one on Mass Ave?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Finley and I went there after her therapy appointment on Friday. And I’m sorry she brought a million books for Show and Tell.” He turned back to me with a chuckle. “I tried to talk her out of it.”
I closed the Flipping Fabulous book and pushed it toward the edge of my desk, but Mason didn’t take it back from me. “How did therapy go?” I wouldn’t have asked in front of Sarah if he hadn’t brought it up so casually to begin with. Besides that, she was about to become family to him—she was well aware of Finley’s issues.
Mason relaxed his shoulders. “It was great. Really glad we went. I think it might have been more of a therapy session for me than her, and I’m not entirely sure that’s how it’s supposed to work—?” He paused and looked down at his feet with a quiet laugh. “But the psychologist had some good advice.”
I could see the relief on his face. If Sarah hadn’t been sitting there, I might have walked over and hugged him. “I’m so happy for both of you, Mason,” I said. When he lifted his head, our eyes met—and I hoped he could tell I wanted to say more but couldn’t.
Sarah smiled up at him, hugging her clipboard. “Owen and I are really impressed with how well you’re raising Finley, especially given your circumstances. That girl is so lucky to have a dad like you.” Sarah’s voice trembled as the last couple of words came out—almost like she was on the verge of tears. “Well, I need to get going. Thanks for welcoming me into your classroom this morning, Kendall.”
“Of course.”
Mason waited until Sarah was all the way out of the room before picking up the coffee and setting it down on the desk in front of me. “This is yours—and so is that book.”
I grinned. “I wondered. Thank you—I love it.” I opened it again, turning to the copyright page. There was his name. “Will you sign it for me?”
He laughed. “You’re joking, right? I didn’t write the thing.”
“I don’t care.” I handed him a pen. “I want you to sign it.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he said, taking the pen from me. He took the book to his chair and sat down. I expected him to scribble a signature and hand the book back to me, but he just kept writing. And writing. Mason was composing an entire paragraph on the copyright page, and the longer he wrote, the more eager I became to read it.
He closed the book and clicked the pen. “Don’t read that until I leave, okay?”
I giggled nervously as he leaned forward to hand me the book. “Okay.” And for the very first time, I couldn’t wait for Mason to leave, imagining all the perverted things he could have written. I leaned back in my chair, sipping my coffee. “So, Sarah suspects you have a ‘thing’ for me.”
He snickered, crossing his arms. “Gross.”
Staring into his eyes, I felt the echoes of his touch, and my mind couldn’t escape the imprint his body had left on mine. His eyes traveled down to my corduroy pants, tight around my thighs, only confirming he was thinking about the same thing.
Not wanting to risk any further flirtation, I grabbed the assessment packet I needed him to copy. “I’ve got an exciting job for you today. The main copier is down—so you’re going to have to use Bertha.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Bertha who?”
Right—he didn’t know about the old copier in the prep room. I wasn’t really sure why everyone called it Bertha, but the name seemed fitting. The thing was a beast. I was going to have to show Mason how to load the paper just right to avoid a Bertha meltdown. “Come on,” I said, standing up and nodding for him to follow me.
The prep room was small—it could have been a storage closet at some point. “Meet Bertha,” I said, leading him into the room. The door swung shut behind him. “She’s a temperamental bitch. You’ve got to push her buttons just right.”
Mason nodded, glancing around at all the cabinets before turning to me. “Well, luckily I’m really good at pushing women’s buttons.”
“Uh huh,” I agreed, sliding the papers into the loading tray.
“Do I push your buttons sometimes?” He was using that deep husky tone, the one that drove me absolutely wild. He knew it, too. Not fair.
I tried not to smile as I looked down at the copier screen. “Just the one time.”
Mason’s eyes widened and a little chuckle escaped from his mouth. “I wasn’t going to go there, but if you want to get technical—it was actually twice.”
I threw my head back and laughed like a dork. He laughed, too, leaning against the copier to get a better look at my face so he could fully enjoy my embarrassment. “Stop distracting me,” I said. “I’m trying to show you how to use this thing.”
He crossed his arms, refusing to take his eyes off of me. “Put paper in, push big green button. Seems pretty self-explanatory.”
“Yeah, but—sometimes the paper in the bottom tray gets stuck and—” I bent over to check the lower tray, unintentionally pushing my butt against his thigh. “I’m sorry,” I said, straightening back up.
He was gazing innocently up at the ceiling now. “You’re good.”
If I tried to tell him it was an accident, he’d never believe me—so I didn’t waste my breath. I pushed the lower tray closed with my leg, not wanting to risk brushing my ass against him again. Jesus, was it hot in this room?
