Page 37 of His Saving Grace

She pointed at one of the stools at the kitchen island and walked over to the fridge to grab some ice. The silence had morphed into something unnerving and uncomfortable. “I don’t understand why you two would pummel each other. Especially over something so stupid.”

“You obviously don’t have siblings.”

She twisted the ice tray to release the cubes. “Nope, I’m an only child.”

“Must have been lonely.”

She looked over at him. Big mistake. He watched every move she made, like a hawk with a mouse in its sights. Her blood buzzed with awareness, as well as desire, which she was ignoring. Or at least trying to. She turned back around, using the ice as a distraction. “It could be. But for the most part, my mom and I did okay.”

“No dad?”

She shook her head. She’d never known her dad. He’d left before she was born. It was something her mom had refused to talk about, no matter how much Grace had begged. From what Grace was able to gather over the years, her dad had been the love of her mom’s life. So much so that her mom had never even dated anyone else while Grace was growing up.

“So, where are you from?”

“Portland.” Crap, crap, double crap. She hadn’t meant to say that. He was distracting her with his injured face and his sexy voice and his tricky questions. Damn him. And damn her for letting her guard down. Again.

She dumped the cubes into a tea towel, giving it an extra bang against the counter for the hell of it, and made her way around the island toward him. Bella had moved from the couch and was now sitting next to Mason. He was idly stroking her head.

Grace thrust the compress at him, and he took it with his free hand. His knuckles were bruised. She felt herself softening. Damn him, again.

He raised the ice pack to his face. When the cold towel touched his skin he flinched. He missed the bruise on his cheek entirely.

Shaking her head, she moved closer, stepping between his spread legs, trying not to think about the intimacy of the position. She took the ice pack and gently placed it over the bruise. He hissed a quick breath between his teeth.

Silence surrounded them again, this time like a warm cocoon. His eyes glowed with heat, glittered with hunger, but underneath there was something else. Something she couldn’t interpret. Something that made her heart speed up and her mouth go dry. Something that scared and thrilled her in equal measure.

She brought her other hand up and brushed the hair that had fallen forward off of his forehead. Her fingers brushed his skin, and he closed his eyes.

Red alert, red alert, red alert. Abandon ship.

She steamrolled over the warning, unwilling to break the spell that had woven itself around them.

He leaned into her touch, and a bit more of her resolve melted. Not that she had much to begin with. Once again, her common sense was a splatter on the sidewalk when it came to this man.

“What are you doing here, Mason?”

He opened his eyes, pinning her with a heated look. “I came to see if you wanted to have dinner with me sometime.”

She cocked her head. “You mean, like a date?”

He nodded. The cloth scraped against his bruise and he flinched. She placed the ice pack on the counter.

Her heart thumped once, seemed to stop for a beat or two, and then kicked into high gear. She licked her lips, and his gaze darted to her mouth. He swallowed hard, his pupils gobbling up the blue of his irises.

Heat spiraled through her, melting away the last of her resistance. No one had ever looked at her like they wanted to eat her up, with or without a spoon. Except Mason. His attention was heady, flattering, unexpected.

And irrelevant.

She had so many other things to worry about right now, a relationship was the last thing she needed. The last thing she wanted.

Then why does the thought of not doing this disappoint you so much?

It didn’t disappoint her. It was stupid and foolish, and she refused to encourage him.

“So?” He brushed his fingers against her hip. Goosebumps streaked up her spine. Her nerve endings crackled with heat. “What do you say?”

All her reasons and excuses scattered, like dandelion fluff on a breeze, and she nodded. “Okay.”

She was a fool.

Mason smiled, clearly happy with the outcome. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers in the barest hint of a kiss. A tease that left her wanting.

He pulled away, and she swallowed a whimper. No point in letting him know just how eager she was.

As if reading her thoughts, he grinned. “How’s Saturday?”

“Isn’t Saturday Independence Day?”

“Why, I think it just might be.” He stood, staying firmly planted in her personal space. Being so close to him made her knees weak. She tilted her head back to look up at him. “We’ll go to the Freedom Festival at the rec center. I’ll pick you up at five o’clock.”

He stepped around her, brushing against her on his way. She chewed on her lip to stop from moaning or whimpering or something else equally embarrassing. Memories of his hardness pressed against her in the barn rushed in, making her achy and hot. She leaned against the marble counter, using it to stay upright.

Mason headed for the exit, looking back over his shoulder at her. She stood there, leaning against the counter, unable to muster the energy to move. He stopped next to the door and grinned at her. The satisfied look on his face should have pissed her off. But it didn’t, because she was a fool.

He pulled open the door and stepped through. Just before the door slid shut, she was pretty sure she heard the smug jerk start to whistle.