Page 58 of Flower


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I’ve never been a jealous person before in my life, even when Hadley would pant all over Logan like a dog in heat, but for some reason, Lily panting over Mason seems to unleash some savage green-eyed beast in me.

The warmth of his hand envelops mine, and entwining our fingers, he pulls my hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “You have nothing to worry about, I promise. She is honestly just a friend.”

“She has a major crush on you.”

“The feeling is not mutual,” he assures me. “Besides, I have my sights set on someone else.”

His lust-filled gaze looks my way, sending the butterflies in my stomach ballistic, and I look away, feeling slightly off balance with the feelings he constantly stirs in me.

No matter how much time I spend with him, he always makes me feel like a schoolgirl experiencing her first crush.

I’m starting to wonder whether that feeling will ever subside.

* * *

Turning off the main road,we pull into a long driveway surrounded by a dense forest of evergreen trees. The branches stretch over the tight road, creating a canopy, the sunlight breaking through the gaps and flicking short bursts of light onto the windshield as we make our way down the long road.

Rounding a bend, we drive into a small clearing and pull up to a small two-story house overlooking the water.

As I exit the truck, I take in my surroundings. The lawn is overgrown, but the pale-blue cottage-style home is pristine. The trimmings are painted white, and with the bay windows on the ground floor, plus the white railing around the porch, it fits right in with the coastal location.

Mason comes up beside me and links his fingers with mine. “Would you like a tour?”

I smile up at him, nodding my head, and he leads me toward the front door.

We enter into a large living area with a cobblestone fireplace extending up to the top of the vaulted ceiling. A large brown sofa sits in front of it, with a fur rug laid out between. The walls are painted a cream color, the light tone showcasing the color of the deep mahogany wood floors and exposed beams raked across the ceiling.

Mason gives me a gentle tug, and we pass a bedroom on the left. I stop at the doorway and peer in, seeing a large four-post bed directly across from us. A tall antique lamp with tassels stands in the corner of the room, with a large landscape painting of a field with white daisies hanging on the wall next to it.

We continue, heading up the staircase leading to the second floor. The landing opens up into a small sitting room with a balcony that looks over the water, with two bedrooms on either side of it.

After giving me a moment to take everything in, Mason gives me another gentle tug and leads me downstairs past a bathroom and into a country-style kitchen with large windows that overlook the water.

I pause and take in the breathtaking view before me. I thought the view of the lake from my kitchen was impressive, but this is something else entirely.

Letting go of his hand, I make my way over and open up the double doors that lead out onto the deck. A fresh gust of salty sea air caresses my face, and I spot a path that leads down to a dock on the water. A rowboat is tied to the side of the dock, directly under a light post near the end.

Inhaling and filling my lungs with the crisp, clean air, I take in the sight of Vashon Island directly across the water. The cloud cover is minimal, providing the perfect opportunity to view the grandeur of Mount Rainier and the Cascade mountains in the distance.

“Whose house is this?” I ask as Mason appears beside me.

“It was my grandfather’s. He left this to me when he passed away.”

His gaze follows mine as we stand in silence, the faint tweeting of the birds in the forest providing us with a symphony orchestrated by their calls into the wild and adding a harmonious tune to the beauty of nature’s painting stretched out before us.

“It really is peace,” I murmur, finally understanding now why Mason referred to this place as peace.

“It most certainly is,” his soft voice replies, and our eyes meet, the contentment adorning his features matching my own. “It’s beautiful.”

* * *

Mason holdsmy hand as we walk along the edge of the water. The sun is setting in the distance casting various hues of orange and red across the sky, the palette of colors mixing with the fading blue and reflecting into the scattered clouds turning them a deep shade of purple.

After exploring the two-acre property surrounding the house, Mason took me into town for clam chowder at his favorite restaurant that overlooks the harbor.

The rest of the afternoon was spent reading, playing chess, and going through the finishing touches to our English paper. It has been the perfect day, and I can’t help feeling a pang of disappointment that it is coming to an end.

I could stay wrapped up in this tranquility for weeks.

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