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Sunlight hits my vision. The glorious mountains sit in the distance, outlined by a slight purple haze across the horizon. I breathe in the crisp air and let out the apprehension of seeing Lauren again.
3
LAUREN
I see Mason exiting the retirement village, and darn if he doesn’t look handsome in his tailored suit. Isn’t he hot in that thing? Not the temperature kind of hot, but deliciously hot and tasty. I bite the inside of my cheek.
Don’t go there.
Mason and I had no trouble in the chemistry department. We had so many sparks flying that we could set off a rocket and make it to Jupiter. But a marriage requires more than attraction. Mason couldn’t meet my other needs. Like my love language of quality time.
Mason trumped in the love language of gifts. But that isn’t what makes me feel valued. His gifts seemed a replacement for his time, which quickly became annoying. My dad bought trinkets and souvenirs during his business travels. As a kid, it got old pretty fast. My sister and I simply wanted our dad around, and the souvenirs didn’t mean much. We didn’t go with him, so why would overseas trinkets mean anything?
Gran beams a smile toward me, and my heart sings. She’s the reason I’m here. To make that little old lady’s day. I wave and flash a smile.
My Shih Tzu tugs on her leash, tail whipping against my leg. “Settle, baby. You can’t go jumping over Gran. She’s so frail. You’ll bruise the poor woman.”
Why won’t Mason push the wheelchair? Shouldn’t he help her with longer distances? Isn’t she on her last legs? It’s a sensitive subject, and I’m hesitant to ask for details. I’m no good at talking about these kind of things. I can’t even allow myself to think the words in my mind.
Mason’s pace increases, his eyes zoning in on me, and my senses heighten. He looks elated to see me. That hunk of a man is all about feelings. No reserves. Mason reaches me, wraps an arm around my waist, and brushes a kiss on my cheek. “Thanks for meeting us.” He nuzzles his way to my earlobe, and his whisper tingles down my neck. “Remember to play along. It makes Gran happy to see us together.”
My skin tingles, but I put up an emotional fight and stiffen in his arms. Cinda growls, and Mason jumps back. I tug her to my side, unable to stop the smile playing on my lips. Good girl. She’ll protect me. I need it.
Mason frowns at my dog. “Hey, buddy. It’s me. Daddy.”
A muffled weird snort comes from the roof of my mouth. I raise an eyebrow at Mason. “Daddy?”
He winks.
I grumble under my breath. “She’s a girl. Not a buddy.”
He ruffles Cinda’s bangs. If that’s what they’re called on a dog. Messy hair hanging in her eyes makes her so darn cute.
“Hey, girl. My bud-ess.” Mason coos.
Cinda snaps at his hand, and he pulls back. “She sure is a girl. Moody.”
My lips thin. “Bad way to make friends.” Or refer to the superior sex. Yes, I like to joke that I’m a feminist. But I still want the man to put out the trash and do the dishes. So I don’t know what to call it. Selective feminist.
He cocks a brow. “She can’t understand English. You know that, right?”
I roll my eyes.
Gran pulls up beside Mason, and I bend to kiss her cheek. “Ready for our walk?”
“I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” She beams.
Aw. My heart strings pull. Her happiness is worth the angst that comes with being around Mason.
I scoop Cinda into my arms and hold her above Gran’s lap. “Say hello to Cinda.”
Gran pats her head, and my dog reciprocates affection, licking Gran’s hand. She giggles. “What a cutie. She’s not big at all, Mason. What were you talking about?”
Mason’s cheeks redden, and he shrugs. “She likes you more than me.”
Gran wipes her palm to her thigh, then sniffs her hand. “Not too bad. You must clean her regularly.”
I smile and hug Cinda to my chest. “Yep. I brush her teeth too. She doesn’t mind regular baths. Some dogs do, but she’s pretty good about it.” I lower Cinda to the sidewalk.
