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One was a shot glass that said: Officer Off Duty. The other was a whiskey decanter that had three lines on it that said: Good Day. Bad Day. Don't Even Ask.
"Sweet. These are perfect."
He finally caught her eye, and he saw her shoulders relax as she smiled.
"Really?" Her voice was breathy as if she was waiting for him to say otherwise.
He nodded, unable to look away from her now. He was trapped in her spell and couldn't remember why this was a bad idea anymore. "Really," he said softly. "It's perfect, just like you."
Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. Her eyes widened in surprise.
Helen cleared her throat, and they glanced her way as she yawned. "It's getting late, kids. I don't know about you, but I'm too old to stay up this late."
Lucy laughed, and the sound echoed in his soul. "It's barely eight o'clock, Nana."
Helen stood and stretched, then hugged Lucy. "I know, sweet pea, but you'll understand when you're older. You remember where the key to the house is, right?"
Lucy nodded and turned to hug Ray. Helen came to him next and wrapped her arms around him.
She whispered in his ear, "Merry Christmas, Mason. May this be the start of something beautiful, eh?"
She pulled back and winked at him, then gathered her presents to take them upstairs. Ray chuckled as he watched her go. Somehow it was only minutes later that Mason found himself and Lucy standing in the cold on the front porch holding their presents.
He looked at Lucy and chuckled. "I guess you can follow me to Ray's, since I'm parked behind you?"
She nodded and glanced away, fluttering her eyelashes as she walked carefully down the porch steps. "Sounds like a plan."
His stomach knotted even more as he got in his truck and backed out. What would this night hold for them? It was way too early to go to sleep, and he was wound tighter than a rooster in a hen house. Maybe Helen was right, and this would be the start of something beautiful.
No, he couldn't. With his job, relationships didn't mix well, and Lucy was relationship material.
Chapter 7
Lucy followed Mason inside, rushing to bring her presents and overnight bag inside. Her cheeks felt half frozen by the time she stomped up the porch and through the front door he held open for her.
"Turned into a cold day, didn't it?" she said with a shiver.
He shut the door and nodded. "It's usually not this cold until January or February."
"I know, crazy, huh?" She felt her cheeks heat as she put her bag of presents on the kitchen table. God, he was going to think she was a nitwit, talking about the weather. She avoided his gaze and turned to take off her jacket, hooking it over the back of a kitchen chair.
"So I'm going to work on my book now. You don't need to entertain me or anything. I'll stay out of your hair," she rushed, grabbing her overnight bag and racing up the stairs.
She shut the door to the spare room behind her and released a breath. She was such a spaz. Here was this hot guy downstairs with nothing to do, and she was hiding in her room?
She jerked her bag open angrily and pulled out her pajama pants and tank top. It was useless trying to write anyway. She was at a point in the story where she had to decide what was going to happen next, and she had no fucking experience to make that decision.
This might help her, actually. Her story was missing a strong male protagonist. The female was fine, if inexperienced, but the missing male was just something she hadn't been able to write. Every word she wrote got erased because it didn't feel real.
She was tired of sitting on the sidelines, watching people live their lives. If she was going to write believable characters, she needed to get out there herself. And that included getting some much overdue experience.
She paused and frowned. What if she were to go downstairs? Neither of them were tired like last weekend. She had been ready to let it happen then, so why was today any different?
It wasn't. It was actually a much better opportunity. She looked at the door. What would Taylor do?
She'd march downstairs—no, sashay downstairs—and cuddle up to him on the couch while watching a movie.
That didn't sound so scary. She could do that. She would do that.
