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He leaned back in the chair and smiled. "Why cotton candy wine? It's a bit foo foo, isn't it?"
She snorted a laugh, nearly choking on her drink. "Foo foo? Kind of a silly word for a big, strong, manly man like you, isn't it?"
He grinned, enjoying this flirty side of her. He just waited though as she took a drink, and the waiter brought their food.
She cut into her fish and furrowed her brow. "Cotton candy reminds me of the Texas fair. We went there and to Six Flags once a year, normally six months apart. Those were happy days with lots of laughter. No worries or responsibilities."
Her voice trailed off as she ate, her face turning introspective and sad. He ate his tacos and glanced around the beach and restaurant.
"Pops used to take my little brother and I to the big rodeo in Fort Worth every year. Will would run off, I'd chase after him and drag him back, hoping to get back before Pops found out we were gone."
She took another sip of her wine. "How old were you? My parents never let me run around by myself."
He shrugged. "Maybe seven and nine? I don't remember exactly. Pops always scolded us and told us to stop worrying him because we were going to give him a heart attack if we ever did that again."
Lucy tilted her head, but he didn't meet her eyes. "But you kept running off?"
He squirmed in his seat and frowned. "Will was a troublemaker, a rough around the edges kind of kid. He took dad's car accident the hardest, I think. He was too young to really form solid memories."
She kept eating and didn't interrupt him, just gave him time to remember and think. He appreciated her all the more for it. But it was like the emotions that had been bottled up his whole life were breaking into pieces. He couldn't hold things back from her if he tried.
"I was seven when he died." His throat closed up, so he took a sip of his drink.
"What happened?" Her voice was quiet, but she didn't stare at him or put pressure on him. The normal tone of voice made it easier to talk about somehow.
He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "He was rushing after work to get to my baseball game. Someone ran a stop sign and t-boned him. They say it was instant, which is good, I guess."
He felt her hand on his knee, and he suddenly realized it was bouncing. Her hand made it calm, and he rolled his shoulders as he took a deep breath.
"It still hurts, though. Losing a parent," she said softly.
He nodded, and the waiter brought them the check. Lucy reached for her purse but Mason beat her to it and handed over his card. She frowned at him but also blushed. When the waiter walked away, he asked, "Were you really about to pay for dinner?"
She shrugged and tugged on her dress. "Maybe. I'm not really comfortable with you paying for stuff."
He tilted his head and sighed. "We've talked about this. It's part of dating. I forget that you don't have a lot of experience with that but let me do this for you."
She blushed and nodded, looking away. That vulnerable expression blew him away, made him want to ruin her in the best way possible.
But he couldn't. She'd end up hurt, or worse, like Amanda. He stabbed at the last bite of steak on his plate and chewed.
The waiter brought the receipt and card back, and Mason signed. "So what next, sunshine? What time is the parade and fireworks?"
Lucy pulled out her phone and hummed as she tapped away. "In an hour, and it's two blocks away. It looks like there's a rooftop bar on the parade route. I bet it would be less crowded than the street and would be a decent place to hang out while we wait."
He tucked his wallet away and picked up her shopping bags. "Then lead the way, sunshine."
He reached for her hand with his free one and linked their fingers. There was something about holding her hand that settled his nerves. All day long, he'd felt like he was being watched. He knew he was being a little paranoid.
But he couldn't help but question why Malia had met up with Lucy at lunch. Did Malia see him tailing her yesterday before the auction dinner? Or this morning as she ran errands?
He tried to push aside the knot of worry in his stomach. It was highly unlikely. He knew how to do the job, and there were very little opportunities for her to see him.
And she'd seemed so open and genuine at dinner and lunch. His head told him to let it go, but his gut twisted in a warning that was rarely wrong.
Yet it'd been wrong last year, hadn't it? Could he even trust it anymore?
They reached the bar and went upstairs. It was actually a cool vibe and the roof had a live band and dance floor. They went to the bar and Mason opened a tab and ordered a drink. He turned back to Lucy to ask what she wanted, and his body froze. His heart raced.
