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Letting go of my hand, Mason picks up a stone and skips it across the water. The rock bounces four times before sinking into the depths below.
“What was your grandfather’s name?” I ask, picking up a stone and attempting to do the same, only for it to bounce once and sink.
“Benjamin Alexander Reynolds,” he replies, throwing another rock and watching it bounce five times.
My competitive streak rears its ugly head, and I search the ground for the perfect flat stone. When I find one, I pick it up and position myself to make the perfect throw.
“You must have been close. I mean, he left you his house and truck. Are your brothers and sisters upset that he gave you all of this?”
Taking my throw, I watch my rock bounce three times, and with a triumphant smile on my face, I look to Mason, who is watching me with amusement.
“No, they were fine with it. My grandfather was into property investment and had eight houses in total. When he passed away, he left one for each of us. He gave this to me because I spent every summer here when I was growing up. Being the oldest, I had to step up and help my mom with my brothers and sisters after my father passed away. My grandfather helped out as much as he could. It was still tough, so I started to come out here more often to take a break. He was a lot like me.” He smiles fondly. “He liked the peace and tranquility. There is no form of digital entertainment in the house, so we would spend a lot of time fishing, playing chess, and boxing.”
“Your grandfather boxed?”
“Yeah,” he replies, skipping another stone four times across the water. “He taught me everything he knows. I did enjoy it, but Krav Maga was my calling.”
“Well, that explains why I’m having such a hard time kicking your ass,” I tease, positioning myself and attempting to throw my stone on the perfect angle to beat his number of bounces.
It hits the water and immediately sinks, not even giving me one sympathy bounce.
Stupid stones.
Mason snickers and throws another. The stone glides across the water in perfect formation, lightly tapping and rippling the water five times before disappearing.
I give him a pointed look, and a smug grin spreads across his face as he flicks me a sidelong glance.
Show-off.
“Are you the Jedi Master of skipping stones or something?”
“The force is strong with this one.” He waggles his eyebrows.
Letting out a giggle, I shake my head. “You are such a nerd.”
He quirks a brow. “I do believe you were the one who mentionedStar Warsfirst?”
“It’s got romance in it.” I shrug. “Of course I’ve watched it.”
“What romance?”
“Hans Solo and Princess Leia?”
He scoffs, “That wasn’t romance.”
“What would you call it then?”
“Hate fucking,” he states bluntly, and I snort.
“They were not hate fucking.”
“They fought like cat and dog. They were definitely hate fucking.”
“Are you sure you aren’t confusing it with the tripleXversion of Star Wars you perhaps watched? What was it called again?” I tap my chin, pretending to ponder. “Star Wangs or something like that?”
He bursts out laughing. “Star Wangs? I’ve never heard of it, but it’s interesting that you have.” He gives me a sly grin. “Have you watched it?”
He takes a step toward me, and I step backward, heat rising to my cheeks. “No.”
