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Then my eyes land on the offending tube that I’ve since stashed in my bag. The one I squirted on Mason’s face, and OH MY GOD! It’s not paint! How in the hell did I end up with my favorite coconut lube mixed in with my art supplies? My mind whirls, trying to think things through.
I must have dropped it in the bag last night when I was cleaning off my bed after my sexy session. OMG, OMG. This can’t be happening. I glance at the man and sure enough, Mason’s smirking at me. The knowing smile on his face tells me exactly what I was afraid of. He saw what was written on the tube, and even worse, he knows what Cocoslick is, which means he’s fully aware of what I just nailed him with. Now, he wants to talk about it over coffee. Just let the ground swallow me whole, please.
How am I going to face this man over coffee? How am I going to get my brain to function when the whole situation is so embarrassing? Oh God. Should I pretend not to know what Cocoslick is, or pretend that it belongs to someone else? Even more, why is today the day I finally run into a gorgeous man, only to have this happen? The timing is so awful, and in more ways than one. I’m basically dressed like a hobo with my ripped jeans and baggy, paint-stained black tank top. And forget my hair. I didn’t even try running a comb or so much as my fingers through my unruly curls before I left. Instead, I threw it all on top of my head in a record-breaking world’s messiest hair bun. I didn’t even wear makeup, so my face is bare and I’m sure I look like a witch.
Once the instructor announces that class is over, I quickly stash my supplies in my bag, and when I turn to stand up, Mason’s right there with a smile, waiting for me.
“Are you ready?” he asks in an easy tone. “I saw a coffee shop on my way over,” he says. “It’s only a block away, so I thought we could walk there since it’s so nice outside.”
I know the coffee shop he’s talking about and it’s one of my favorites, so I nod. “Um, sure. That works for me,” I mumble.
He holds a palm out to me, and at first I think he’s trying to hold my hand. Wow, that’s soon. Mason must register the surprise on my face, because he grins and reaches over my shoulder to grab the strap of my bag. “Let me carry that for you.”
“Oh no.” I feel my cheeks heat again. “You don’t have to do that.”
He merely flashes that million-dollar smile again, making me go weak in the knees.
“I’m forcing you to walk to our first date. What kind of man would I be if I also made you carry your own bag?”
I’m too caught up on his use of the word “date” to argue, so I relinquish my knapsack and stroll behind him out of the classroom. Once out on the sidewalk, he grins at me again.
“Your painting was really good,” he remarks, as we make our way down the street to the coffee shop.
I blush. “Thanks, but it wasn’t really finished. I’ll have to go back and work on it more. Maybe I’ll take another stab at it once I get home.”
He nods.
“Is painting something you do a lot?”
I smile shyly. “Yeah, pretty much. I’ve always enjoyed painting. I started out finger painting as a kid, and I still do a lot of my paintings using my fingers, actually. I just feel like I have more control of what I’m creating when I’m literally hands on.”
The handsome man looks at me with a sly smile, those blue eyes humorous. “Good to know.”
Tree and Bird Coffee Shop comes into view, and as we approach the door, Mason steps forward and holds it open for me.
“Thanks,” I say as I walk in.
The place is nice, with dark oak furniture, a long counter, and friendly-looking baristas. But instead of going to the counter to order, the huge man starts walking towards a table in the far corner. Mason pulls out a chair and motions for me to take a seat before setting our bags on the floor.
“Sit down, sweetheart. I’ll get our order and bring it over.”
His words and tone are a mixture of sweet chivalry and command. Like he’s used to being in charge and getting what he wants. I’m not used to a man waiting on me, but decide to roll with it.
“I’ll take an iced mocha latte, if you don’t mind,” I murmur.
He nods. “Anything to eat?”
I shake my head. “No, thank you.”
Then the handsome man strolls away, and I surreptitiously watch him depart. He’s tall and athletic, with broad shoulders that narrow to a vee, and long legs that eat up the floor with each stride. I spot a few other ladies checking him out and my cheeks flush. OMG, Mason’s with me.
