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I fold my arms over my chest, refusing to bow down to the oldest Gray sister. “Have somewhere to be at midnight? Someone to meet who can fulfill the needs your boyfriend is lacking?”
“I can’t find Aurora.”
“Well, she’s not here.”
“I knowthat.” Kinley looks either ready to blow her top or burst into tears. Perhaps both. “We had a … fight.”
Well, shit.“What did you say to her?” I’m pretty much immune to Kinley’s harsh words, but Aurora still has that baby sister fragileness.
“It doesn’t matter.”
I’m up in her face, poking a finger at her shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. I’m vaguely aware of Mason standing on the sidelines, as if he’s waiting to pull me off her should we start slapping and hair pulling. “What did yousayto her?”
“I didn’t mean it.” Kinley’s shoulders slump, her anger giving way to fear and concern. “I might’ve told her she was making everything worse. At the diner. That she was just getting in the way.”
“Jesus, Kin. Insensitive much?”
“I’m going to apologize. I just have to find her! Which would be easier to do if I had my car instead of a damn bicycle.”
“Ladies,” Mason interjects, dangling a set of keys between us like a white flag. “I’ll drive. Let’s go find Aurora.” He pulls me back, his lips against my ear. “Get your bra off the lampshade, babe.”
CHAPTER14
Mason
“That sure was a fun flight,” Gran says, gripping a chicken salad sandwich with both hands and taking a bite. She’s been grinning from ear to ear since take off this morning, but I don’t know if the thrill of flying can take all of the credit. She caught wind of a new Alaska reality TV show filming in Aurora Springs and about lost her shit when she heard I was flying up there today. Leaving her behind felt cruel.
“You sure you’re coming back?” I tease, happy to keep the conversation lighthearted before I throw something heavier at her. I push around the chips on my plate and scan the mostly empty restaurant. We’re a little early for the lunch rush. “They might want to cast you.”
“They’d be a foolnotto cast me,” Gran insists, eyes sparkling. She’s wearing a bright orange track suit—after deciding orange was herbestcolor—to attract the attention of TV producers. She’s brighter than a traffic cone. No wayanyoneis missing her. “I might be a little old to marry one of the hunky mountain men, but I can play a grandma to one.”
I choke on the wordmarryand reach for my drink.
“Something on your mind?” Gran challenges, holding her sparkling water with both hands. The restaurant refused to serve her a cocktail this early, but they did try to appease her with a paper umbrella in her cup.
I clear my throat and rub sweaty palms against my jeans. Last night changed things. It wasn’t only Willow finally owning up to the apology she owed me three years ago. Or her admitting Caribou Creek is where she wants to be. It was the way she gripped my hand as we tirelessly searched for Aurora.
We found her sister hiding in a tree fort near the creek. One we used to frequent as kids. Aurora had a tendency to run away from home, and more often than not, she ended up there. The way Willow hugged me when we found her baby sister…the way she clung to me. It reminded me of the way things used to be. Reassured me that we’re finally back to that place.
“I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
Gran slowly pulls the bright blue straw away from her lips and sets her sparkling water to the side. Pressing both hands to the booth table, she leans forward. “Come again?”
“I’m going to ask Willow to marry me.”
I feel just as unsettled by her hard stare as I did at seven years old when I shoved a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the toaster and caught it on fire. Or when I was thirteen and crashed her golf cart into a tree. It’s not a pleasant feeling.
“You told her about the theater then?”
My body itches in the discomfort of those narrowed eyes. I wish she’d grab her drink or sit back in her seat. “Not yet. Waiting on Wes to call me about the offer.” A call I expect to get any time, as the deadline for the sellers to respond is almost up. It’s a fair offer. A strong one. But I can’t afford to compete with cash-heavy developers.
Finally, Gran lets out a heavy sigh and presses her back into the padded booth. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Mason.”
“You two were close once.”
“Before she left you in a full church, standing at the altarby yourself.” Gran’s raised voice has the attention of all the staff and the only other table with patrons. Might as well be on our own reality show. “What makes you so sure she won’t do it again?”
“It’s a risk,” I admit.
