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“An honest answer is always the one I want.” Except when it ripped a chunk off her heart.
“You’re eyeballing the right guy for that. Mason has a rep for telling it like it is.” T.J. thrashed on her knee, so Carrie stood and hiked him onto her hip. “Not even a year old and he already hates listening to women talk.” She shook her head in frustration while searching her pockets for something to amuse the boy. “I hope when Mason comes over, he says what you want to hear, because whatever he says will be the real deal. Good luck.”
Andie endured stares from strangers and zero attention from Mason for the next hour. When the ump called last inning, she smiled politely at the heads turned her way and made her exit. Being a decent guy, he’d probably feel obligated to talk to her after the game. Or maybe he wouldn’t. She wasn’t putting either of them in that situation.
Once she cleared the parking lot, she pulled over and slumped against the steering wheel. Lasha would be happy to take on the challenge of distracting her, but it would involve flirting at minimum, if not bumping, grinding and possibly more, with men other than Mason. Nope, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week, month, whatever.
Her best friend wouldn’t understand, but she’d have to take no for an answer tonight.
* * *
ANDIE
Apparently Lasha wasn’t in the mood for no. As if texting Andie every five minutes wasn’t enough harassment, now she was out front, ringing the bell.
“Not tonight, Lash, I’ve got a—” The sight of Mason looking dusty and sexy on her doorstep stopped all movement and ability to speak.
“Headache?”
No, that would be an easy fix. Take two Advil and start fresh in the morning. “Heartache.”
“Extra-strength Tums works for that.”
“For heartburn, yes. Not the same affliction, but thanks for the medical advice.”
“You came to my game.”
Sarcastic comebacks licked the inside of her lips. No, she was a mature forty-year-old… “I did, since you neglected to un-invite me.” Okay, that was slightly immature, but he deserved it. “It was a good game. You were very impressive offensively and in the field.” There, maturity restored.
“Can I come in—I’m pretty sure the old folks next door have their Whisper2000 pressed to the bay window.”
She shrugged in an attempt to look indifferent. By his smile she assumed it looked more like a klutzy, spastic tic. “Are you planning to say something that’s not rated for a geriatric audience?”
“Maybe.” His version of the casual shrug was perfect. Damn him. “Depends how the apology part goes over.”
Oh, he was gooood. He still wasn’t getting in, though. If he broke her heart out here, in full view of her nosey neighbors, she wouldn’t cry. In the house she’d be a blubbering fool. She’d also be in close, private proximity to his tight pants and unbuttoned jersey. Thinking straight while he half-wore his baseball uniform was pretty much impossible.
“I think the Karnowskis would love to hear what you have to say.”
“I acted like an ass at the baseball game.Andwhen I left this morning and late last night…” He turned his head toward the neighbors’ house and increased his volume. “After you deep-throated my cock while getting yourself off with that pink—”
“Shh! Get in the house,” she said, jerking him forward by his uniform shirt. “There’s no cock talk on the front lawns of Paradise Avenue.”
“Doesn’t sound like paradise to me.”
“Ugh. You’re in, you win.” And she was no longer in charge of her tear ducts or the color of her complexion.
“How about farther than the front hall?”
“No way, I can’t allow it.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust myself.”
“Worried you’ll get all worked up while you’ve got your period?”
“You know I don’t have my period.”
