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“In your little pink pajama shorts and no bra? No, but I think you’d make church a lot more interesting if you did.”
I pursed my lips. “Do you want these pancakes or not?”
“I want to know why there’s a ladder against my house pointing at my bedroom window. Can I have both?”
With a sigh, I walked into his house ahead of him. “Fine. Is Maya awake?”
“Maya’s outside with Dolly.”
“Dolly? Do you have another child hidden I don’t know about?”
“She’s the puppy, smartass,” he muttered. “Coffee?”
“Please. I was woken up by Grandma singing Another One Bites the Dust.”
“The Queen song?”
“Yeah. She checks the obituaries every week to see if anyone she knows has died and plays that song if they have. She says it’s a reminder that she could be next so I need to get married.”
Mason paused for a moment. “And there’s nothing morbid about that first thing on a Sunday morning at all.”
I gave him a tight smile and a small nod of agreement. It wasn’t always the best way to start the day, I had to admit.
Or ever the best start.
I knew.
More of my days had started like this than I wanted to admit.
“Here.” He slid a cup of coffee my way. “One sugar.”
“You remembered.” Why was I so shocked about that?
“Imogen, I’ve made you more cups of coffee than anyone else. I think I can remember something so basic.”
“Mm.”
He motioned for me to sit at the island, which I did. He leaned on the counter opposite me and wrapped both of his hands around his mug. His blue eyes were unfairly bright, and his dark hair was just the right amount of messy.
Unlike mine.
I bet his stomach wasn’t doing somersaults, either.
“So,” we both said at the same time.
“The ladder,” Mason said quickly. “Any reason you were trying to climb into my room last night?”
I held up a finger. “Well, for one, I was doing nothing of the sort.”
His lips tugged to one side. “Then, by all means, explain.”
“That freakin’ clown thing you sent me.”
“Ah. I should have known that had something to do with it.”
“Grandma’s a nosy so-and-so who knew which window was your bedroom.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Probably. You don’t know what she says about the ninety-seven-year-old man across the street.” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, I was going to put the little shit on your window to scare you the same way you almost killed me.”
“The clown or the old man?”
“How would I get a ninety-seven-year-old man up a ladder and attach him to your window?”
“I don’t know. Both would be terrifying first thing in the morning, to be honest.”
“I know. I live with an eighty-year-old.”
“Does she look better or worse than you right now?”
“I’m not sure anyone can look worse than me, Mason.” I sipped slowly from my coffee. “But if you keep talking, you will.”
He grinned, his whole face lighting up with laughter. “All right. So you tried to pay me back and failed. I put the ladder back in your backyard by the shed.”
“Thanks.” I sighed. “I’m not taking this lying down, by the way. I will get you back for that. You scared the ever-loving shi—”
“Hiya!” Maya ran in with a tiny brown ball of fluffiness that was basically a walking cotton ball. “This is Dolly!” She reached down and hauled her up, arching her back so she could hold her.
“Okay!” Mason rushed over and retrieved what was apparently a puppy from Maya. “I think Dolly needs some food and a nap now. Why don’t you go draw a picture of her for Mama?”
Maya’s face lit up, then dropped as soon as she saw the pancakes. “Did Mrs. Jen make those?”
Mrs. Jen? Oh, Grandma.
“She sure did. Fresh this morning,” I said. “Would you like one?”
She looked from me to Mason with hope all over her face. “Cand I?”
Mason nodded. “Let me feed Dolly and I’ll heat it up for you. If you’re lucky and your room is tidy, I might even bring you one with whipped cream and strawberries.”
Maya gasped, slapping her hands against her little pink cheeks. “Das my favorwit!”
“I know.” He nodded.
She turned on her heel and ran off, then did a u-turn and barreled into me. “Fanks, Miss Immy.”
I froze for a second as she squeezed my legs so tightly I thought they might temporarily go numb, then smiled and gave her a gentle hug back. “Thank Grandma next time you see her.”
“I will.” She beamed up at me. “I tidy now.”
Just like that, she was gone.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable being an accessory to bribery,” I said, following Mason with my gaze as he moved through the kitchen with ease.
“Sucks for you,” he replied, taking a pancake with a half-grin flashed my way. “My mom told me something the week Maya was born, and it’s stuck with me: ‘Ninety percent of parenting is bribery, and the other ten percent is hoping they never get smart enough to figure it out.’ Then she said she’d get me a coffee if I took Maya for half an hour so Fran could sleep.”
