Page 142 of The Golden Hour

It’s early November, so Mason has his thick Penn hoodie on, jeans, and a pair of sneakers. Nothing extraordinary, but Honey is looking at him like he’s in a suit—like she did on their wedding day.

And Mason’s body is responding.

“Being a daddy,” Honey grins, bringing Mason’s attention to her full lips that he wants to suck into his mouth, and nibble, and soothe with his tongue.

He’s so fucking pissed at himself.

At how fucking privileged he used to be, able to kiss her whenever he wanted. He took it for granted and lost it, and he will do anything to be granted permission once more.

And what the hell did Mac say?

Oh, right.

Fortune favors the brave.

“Not half as good as being a mommy looks on you, baby,” Mason grins, his eyes trailing down and greatly appreciating Honey’s form. She’s wearing a thick pink cardigan and jeans, but he can still see the curves underneath.

God, she’s so lush. So soft, so fucking beautiful, it’s delicious torture to just be in her presence sometimes. The softness of the changes to her body only enhanced what was already perfection.

But Honey doesn’t react like he hoped she would.

Her face falls, and she turns her head to the front.

“Thank you,” she mutters softly.

Mason frowns, feeling a strange twisting in his chest as he makes sure Daisy is secure, before shutting the door and then sliding into the driver’s side.

“Honey?”

“Yes?”

He studies the side of her face for a second.

He wants to ask, but knows that it’s not the right time. Not here, in the parking lot of their pediatrician’s office. And not when she looks that stressed.

He makes the right choice for Honey.

“Can I take you to get something to eat?”

Honey blinks and turns to look at him. “Like… a date?” she asks, her voice quiet.

“Yeah,” Mason breathes, his heart pounding in his chest, much like it did when he first asked her out on a date. Only this time, he didn’t stutter and almost trip over himself. Progress. “But also, I was thinking more of just us as a family. If you’re more comfortable with that.”

Honey looks at him for a second, and then her mouth curves into a sweet grin.

“Depends,” Honey says. “What did you have in mind?”

Mason turns the car on and just gives her a smile.

“We haven’t been here in forever,” Honey says, brown eyes trailing all over the restaurant and the tchotchke-covered walls.

Beverly’s is a local haunt, and was a frequent place they went on dates when they were young and could scrape together five bucks to share a burger, fries, and a shake.

Daisy sits in Honey’s lap across the booth, patting her hands against the table. Honey carefully keeps her balanced with one hand, the other drawing with the pack of crayons and kids’ paper.

Mason keeps making faces at Daisy and making her giggle, and his heart warms every single time she makes that beautiful little sound.

While the start was rough, he thinks he’s gaining the trust back from both of his girls.