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“I don’t know—the patriarchy?”
I resisted the urge to quote Taylor Swift as he rested his forehead against mine. He kissed me again, making me shiver when his cold hands slid down the back of my pants. I could almost guarantee his hands would find their way to my ass every time we embraced, and sure enough, there they were—grabbing a hold of my buttcheeks and not letting go. “Thanks, I’m getting warmer now.”
I laughed, and we stayed just like that for a minute or two, all alone on that secluded riverwalk. But his phone buzzed a couple more times—this time, it was Owen.
“He wants to meet me for brunch on Sunday.”
“That’s a good sign, right?”
Mason sighed. “I almost feel guilty now. Like I’m forcing him to hire me.”
“Mason.” I pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Owen’s not an idiot, okay? He didn’t get where he is by making impulsive business decisions. Everything he does is… calculated. If he offers you this job, it’s because he knows he needs you. You’re not forcing him to do anything.”
“Damn,” he said, enveloping me in a hug. “I think you just made my insecurities about this melt away.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Could’ve gone without all of the Owen praise…”
I tickled him, which was a mistake, because he tickled me back until I was shrieking and struggling to wriggle out of his grasp. Tickling turned into wrestling, which ultimately turned into the sort of fondling that could get us both in trouble for public indecency.
After walking along the river for a few more minutes, Mason turned to me with a frown, saying he needed to get home to put Finley to bed. “She doesn’t like to go to sleep without me. And I know I should probably break her of that, but—”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t go?”
“Don’t break her of it. Not yet. I used to get so lonely falling asleep by myself as a kid. And it got worse after the divorce. The house was so quiet at night, and it was just me with my sad thoughts. Sometimes I’d curl up on the rug in my sister’s room just to feel less alone.” I laughed at myself, suddenly feeling embarrassed about the way I was rambling. “God, I am so sorry, I don’t know why I’m sharing all of this with you.”
“I love it,” Mason said, running his hands down my arms. “Share more. Share everything. Just—not now. I really do have to go. But—” He let go of me, pulling my scarf off his neck and draping it back over mine. With the sexiest grin, he said, “I’d better give this back to you before you write a ten-minute song about me.”
My mouth dropped open, and Mason grinned, well aware of the effect this Taylor Swift reference was having on me. Don’t fall in love, I thought—but I wasn’t sure which one of us I was saying it to.
chapter thirty-four
mason
I had more than the usual amount of trepidations about taking Finley back to Traci after the confrontation on Halloween. I had let this woman look me in the eye and tell me how “ridiculous” I was for having boundaries, and I wasn’t that thrilled to see her again.
But blowing her off would be unfair to Finley, who was looking forward to going to McDonald’s that day. So when Traci muttered, “Wasn’t sure if you’d even show up,” as I got Finley out of the car, I kept my snarky comeback to myself. Finley was staring at my face, having heard Traci’s comment. She was picking up on the animosity, which wasn’t entirely Traci’s fault. I could stand to be better about how I responded to her in front of my daughter.
“Here we are,” I said, trying not to sound like an asshole.
Traci put a hand on her hip. “There’s a luncheon after church, and it might go until about one or so. Would that be all right?”
I looked at Finley, gauging her reaction. “As long as it’s okay with her.”
“You want to have coneys and chips at the church with Mamaw, don’t you, Finley girl?”
Finley just nodded, looking up at me in silence as I strapped her in. Knowing this child wouldn’t touch coney sauce, I told her, “I bet she can get you a plain hot dog.”
“Of course Mamaw can,” Traci said, closing the car door after I kissed the top of Finley’s head. “Thanks for being mature about this.”
I inhaled. “Yup. Just call me when you’re done.”
As they pulled away, I stood outside of my car with my hands in my pockets for a moment, wondering if there would be other kids for Finley to play with at this luncheon. She was pretty good about finding ways to entertain herself—with the imaginary YouTube channel and all—but I felt a pang of worry in my chest when I pictured her sitting there surrounded by a bunch of people she barely knew—people I didn’t know at all.
At least I had my meeting with Owen to distract me. He asked me to meet him at The Noshery, an old-fashioned diner downtown known for its pancakes. Kendall was surprised he hadn’t asked to eat somewhere more “bougie”—but Owen was probably just trying to appear down to earth. And everyone knew The Noshery had the best breakfast food in town.
