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“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then I’ll set the table for four,” she says with a smile before they walk out of the room holding hands.
Once we’re alone again, I turn in Mason’s arms until I can meet his dark gaze.
“I’ve missed you this past week,” I admit, looping my arms around his neck and pressing close. Why does everything feel so much better when we’re together?
His lips brush mine. “I missed you, too. I wish you would have just talked to me about your concerns and how you were feeling. We could have avoided all of this.”
That was my mistake. I allowed Levi to get inside my head. Even though it’s tempting to tell him what happened and explain the full story, I keep it to myself. There’s no point in stirring up hard feelings when it’s his job to work with the QB.
“You’re right, I should have been honest. I’m sorry.”
He nips at my lip, tugging it with his teeth as our gazes cling. “Just as long as you’re mine now.”
“I am, Mason. I’m yours.”
Epilogue
Mason
Two years later…
My head is stuckunder the hood of a cherry red 1967 Dodge Charger. She’s a real beauty.
Even though I’ve been coaching for a couple of years now, I still enjoy getting my hands dirty when time allows, which isn’t often, but I enjoy working on American muscle. It’s what I specialize in as a side hustle. When we’re in the middle of the season, time is limited, and I’ll only take on one vehicle a month.
It keeps me busy and out of trouble.
From beneath the hood, I hear her footsteps over the alt rock that plays in the background and fills the cavernous space.
“Hey, babe,” I call out, always happy when she wanders out to the pole barn to keep me company.
“Hey, yourself.”
The fridge door opens before closing again. “I thought you could use a beer. You’ve been out here working for a couple hours.”
I straighten to my full height and stretch my aching muscles. “Thanks. Seems about that time, doesn’t it?”
“Sure does.”
My eyes eat her up as she closes the distance between us. She’s barefoot and wearing another flirty sundress that does amazing things for her lush curves. When there’s no more than a foot or so to separate us, she hands over the bottle.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—there’s something sexy about a barefoot woman wearing a sundress.
It gets me going every damn time.
Maybe I should amend that statement—there’s something about my woman walking around barefoot while wearing a pretty sundress that gets me every single time.
“You look good enough to eat,” I tell her.
A sly grin flashes across her face. “That was the idea.”
Before I can ask what she means, her fingers pluck the ties at her shoulders. A second later, the soft material floats down her body before puddling at her feet, leaving her completely bare.
When I continue to stare, she slowly backs up until her ass hits the counter. With her palms braced on the linoleum, she hoists herself on top of it. Her gaze stays locked on mine.
“Fuck,” I growl.
