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“We’re not all proficient in Photoshop,” I shot back. “And I’m single because I want to be, thank you very much.”
She snorted. “Are you telling me that if this Mason guy called you tomorrow and asked you on another date that you’d say no?”
“Absolutely,” I said without missing a beat. “I swear to God, I wouldn’t do it. I cannot imagine a scenario where I would ever, ever, put myself in the line of fire of his ex again. I’d rather eat my own nipples for breakfast.”
“Are you sure?”
“One thousand percent,” I said firmly. “Now, let’s find you a date instead.”
CHAPTER SEVEN – MASON
If there was anything I dreaded more than having dinner with my parents and my mother asking when I’d start dating again, it was my Grandpa Ernie being there and telling me about all the women he was dating.
Mostly because I didn’t need the mental image of my eighty-year-old grandfather getting it on, but partly because my mom side-eyed me every single time.
If my grandpa could get over losing his wife of sixty years and date other women, I could move on from Claudia.
She didn’t seem to understand that I had moved on from her. I just wanted to be single.
It made dinner… interesting.
Which was why I was taking my sweet-ass time driving home from work. With any luck, my mom would be so pissed I was late that she wouldn’t bother talking about my dating life—unless my sister brought it up.
Which she probably would, so I’d bring up hers right back.
Sure, Kirsty was actively dating, but she was picking total assholes.
Begrudgingly, I pulled up outside my apartment block and headed upstairs. I’d just put my key in the lock when the door behind me swung open.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Allerton,” I said politely, pushing my door and turning around.
“Is it?” She sniffed. “There was someone knocking at your door earlier.”
I should have guessed. “I’m really sorry if they disturbed you.”
Another sniff. “You should tell your female callers that they need to call before they stop by and interrupt Maury.”
“I will do just that,” I reassured her. “Do you happen to know who it was?”
“No. Maury had the DNA results.”
“How do you know it was a woman if you didn’t see them?”
“I might have looked through my peephole,” she admitted after a minute. “They had a hood up, but it looked like a woman. I told her that I’d shoot her if she didn’t stop hammering away.”
Tilting my head slightly, I said, “You don’t own a gun.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” She knocked her cane against the floor. “But your floozies don’t know that, do they?”
I gave her a tight smile. It was no use trying to tell her that I didn’t have any “floozies,” as she put it. She’d just argue the toss with me. It’d taken me eighteen months to convince her that Kirsty was my sister.
“Absolutely not. I’ll pass your messages on.”
“Thank you. Don’t you have to get ready for dinner with your family?”
Ah, small towns and nosy neighbors. Who’d live anywhere else?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do. I’m actually a little late.”
“Then why are you still standing here talking to me?” She sniffed and turned around. “Kids these days. So disrespectful.”
I took a deep breath and went into my apartment before she’d shut her door. Telling her that I was twenty-eight and not exactly a child wouldn’t work in my favor and just start a whole long rant about not arguing with my elders.
I already had my grandfather to deal with tonight. One pensioner was more than enough for today.
I tossed my phone and keys onto the kitchen island and pulled my shirt over my head on the way to the bathroom. It fell to the floor, but ignored it to pick up later, and instead focused on the shower.
I washed the dirt and dust from the building site away from my body and got back out. I really didn’t have long to get changed, so I gave my hair a quick rub with the towel and got dressed, leaving it still damp as I headed back out the door.
Hopefully, no “floozies” would come knocking at my door when I was out.
***
I pulled up behind Kirsty’s car in my parents’ driveway. I was already regretting coming here, but not quite as much as I did when the front door swung open before I’d even gotten out of my truck.
“Mason Jackson!” My mother snapped. “You’re late.”
I took a deep breath and got out. “Hello to you, too, Mom.”
“Hello,” she replied. “You’re still late.”
“Sorry. I was late finishing work. You didn’t wait, did you?”
“Everyone except your grandfather.” She accepted my kiss on the cheek and moved aside so I could get in. “You know what he’s like.”
I did. The man would eat his own fingers if you didn’t feed him. A bit like a hungry toddler.
