Page 16 of Learning at 40

“Your neighbor.”

“Oh. I feel so bad I haven’t had a chance to really meet her.” Hearing her reminder recalls something River said last night. She’s lost her husband. Anna and River have something in common, and Anna could use a friend outside of our group. Someone who relates to her loss on a different level than we do as Ben’s guy friends.

“You should introduce yourself. I think you’d have a lot in common.” The moment I suggest it, Mason glares at me, and I realize my mistake.

“What do you mean?” Anna questions, tilting her head.

“Umm. . .” Mason shakes his head at me, and I’m wondering once more how much he knows about the naked neighbor. He said he doesn’t have carnal knowledge of her body, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t tried. Flirted with her. Attempted to charm her. “I just think you might be friends.”

Anna gives me a quizzical look before Mason interjects, “Beach time.”

Oliver groans.

“What did Miss River say about that tree fort,” I remind my boys.

“The boys were in her tree fort?” For some reason, Mason made that sound sexual, and I want to throat punch him.

“She said we could come over anytime we wanted,” Trevor states, but that isn’t true.

“Really?” I say, finding myself on the verge of arguing with a seven-year-old.

“She said we could come over whenever she’s in her yard,” Trevor clarifies.

Mason coughs, and I catch his eye. He has the same thought as me—naked River in her backyard. “Maybe Daddy wants to play in River’s tree fort.” Mason wiggles his brows, and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Yeah, Dad, you could play, too,” Oliver says.

“I’m not playing in River’s tree fort,” I snap, glaring at Mason before turning to see my son crestfallen by my tone. Fuck. Swiping a hand through my hair, I address my slightly sensitive son.

“Ollie, we need to respect that the tree fort belongs to Miss River. We can’t just go into her yard without an invitation.”

“Yeah, Ollie, you can’t just barge into her tree fort. You need to ease into it,” Mason adds, and Anna’s head pops up, narrowing her eyes at the man beside her. She hasn’t missed the drop in his voice or the salacious addition. Glancing over at me, I shake my head, suggesting she ignore Mason.

“Plus, that old wood might be old.” Mason chuckles as his eyes dance when he looks at me.

“Speak for yourself.”

“Shriveled and splintering from disuse.” His brow tips as he shivers.

“I think I’ll change while you sling euphemisms at one another,” Anna interrupts and exits the room.

“Right. No one wants to hear about inspecting old wood.” Mason grins.

“Mason,” I hiss, shifting my eyes from my annoying friend to my boys. “River will not be checking out my wood.”

In mock horror, Mason lifts a hand to his chest. “Who said anything about your wood?”

“We damn well better not be talking about yours,” I hiss, glancing sideways at my sons once more.

“Cut the defense, counsel. We both know mine isn’t suffering from shrinkage and disuse.”

I scrub two hands down my face with a visual of Mason and River on her chaise lounge, and I seriously want to throat punch my friend.

“Okay, beach time,” I mutter. “Later, we can ask Miss River if there’s a time you can play in her tree fort.”

“Maybe she’ll give Daddy a private tour of her tree fort.” Mason chuckles as tree fort has taken on a new meaning. Pinning him with another warning glare, he laughs harder and thrusts his hips toward the counter, imitating what he thinks I should do with Miss River and her tree fort.

He’s such a child.