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“Not Romeo. This love story has a different ending. You’ll see.”
Freya’s phone chimes. “Gran’s getting impatient. Our dinner’s in the car and she wants to eat right at seven so we can catch the full episode of Alaska’s Got Talent or whatever the hell reality show she’s binge-watching now.”
The theater falls quiet after Freya leaves, and I start to obsessively check my phone waiting for the minutes to tick by. Considering Willow and I have known each other all over lives, this shouldn’t make me so fucking nervous. Especially since I’ve already proposed once before. The last time we were naked and sated. This time, it’ll be more romantic.
“Mason?” Willow’s voice carries to me as she enters the theater. “Are you—” Her hands fly to cover her mouth. Her eyes widen as she takes it all in. The minute I got back from Aurora Springs, I picked up a set of keys and got to work stringing white lights around the stage. Setting up any prop that might be construed as romantic. Mostly it’s fake plants, but I did the best I could.
Her reaction is far better than I expected.
I hop off the stage and meet her in the aisle. “I thought you might like to see the place again.”
“How did—”
“I called in a favor.” I’m saving the news that I bought the theater for dessert. With any luck, it’ll earn me an extra helping of dessert that includes Willow in my lap, riding my cock in the front row. “Come on, dinner’s waiting on stage.”
“Mason?”
“Hmm?”
She jumps at me, throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me hard on the mouth. My body reacts automatically, wrapping her tight against me and moving my mouth hungrily against her own. Our tongues tango, and I slide a thigh between her legs, loving the sundress number she picked out. She grinds herself against my leg, and even through the denim I can feel how wet she already is.
“Dinner’s going to get cold,” I whisper against her ear, kissing a trail along her jaw.
“Would it be so bad to skip right to dessert?”
As tempting as it is to fuck her now, I want this night to be extra special. If we get naked this soon, I might lose focus. “There’ll be plenty of dessert after dinner,” I promise, lifting her by the ass and carrying her to the stage. She wraps her legs around my hips and busies herself nibbling on my neck. My dick rebels, hardening with each brush of her lips. It takes all my restraint to set her down on the stage near the table.
The moment she sees the pink vase of fake daisies, she tears up. “You found these?” She picks it up and holds it in her hands like it’s the most precious gem in the world.
“You remember it?”
“How could I forget? This was my lucky prop. They’re from the very first time I took the stage in the lead role.” She holds the vase close to her chest, a tear escaping. “Can I keep this?”
“Of course you can.”
She sets the vase on the table and eyes the to-go containers. “That smells really good.”
“It’s fromMountain Prime.”
“They’re still in business?”
“Stick around and you’ll know all kinds of things, babe.” I smack her on the ass and stop for a squeeze. She squeals playfully.
“I thought you saidafterdessert.”
“I did.” I pull out her chair, mostly to keep my hands busy with anything other than her body. When she tells our grandchildren about this night, I want there to be some PG details she can gush about.
I finish unpacking the paper sack, fishing out actual silverware that Freya must’ve grabbed from Gran’s. I leave the champagne flutes in the bag for later, but realize the actual bottle is in my truck. Along with the wine we’re supposed to have with dinner. “I’ll be right back.” I kiss the top of Willow’s head. “Don’t start without me.”
CHAPTER17
Willow
Iscan the empty theater with wide eyes, taking in every detail. The red velvet seats, the murals painted on the domed ceiling, the architectural detail throughout. The number of memories I have in this place is infinite. From my first kindergarten concert, to elementary Christmas plays and high school musicals. Not to mention all the plays I’ve directed for the kids. As much as I love acting, I think I might love directing more. Or writing scripts.
Running off to Hollywood, was so stupid. I can see that now. I put all my eggs in the acting basket and forgot all my other dreams.
Now it’s too late to save them because some seedy developer is going to tear this place down and build some fucking box store.
