“Why do you feel you owe them?” Her hazel gaze pulled me to her again, and I could feel the depth in them, the pain, like she had lived lifetimes in years, as I had. I stared at her openly, and she didn’t break away. Her gaze searched mine as if she could harvest any answer out of me, even if I tried to bury them deep.
“I’d better go order the part.” The gravelly words scraped from my throat. “The store can get it in by tomorrow. Don’t want you running around with nothing to wear.”
A soft laugh went through her nose, her eyes finally breaking, her head wagging.
I stepped back, smiling not unlike a total idiot. “You know, I don’t think I know your last name. You know, for the order.” Total lie. I didn’t need it.
“Oh.” I saw her stare absently down, her finger twirling the ring on her right hand. “Campbell.” She said it as though she had finally made some decision.
“Well, Ms. Campbell. I will see you tomorrow.”
“If I’m not pretty much a Mrs. Robinson,” she muttered to herself.
“Who?”
“Nothing.” She waved me off. “Thank you, Mr. James. I appreciate it.”
Muffling my groan at the way that sounded and needing to rub it out, I jogged out of her garage. I headed back to my house, knowing I was seriously fucked, because no way was anything going to ever happen, but she was all I wanted.
Chapter 12
Emery
Staring blankly at my closet, I flipped through the tops, nothing catching my eye. I spent most of my days in scrubs or yoga pants. When Ben was alive, we worked so hard we only dressed up on special occasions, which was usually an event Alisa and John made us attend. In the last three years, any reason to get dressed beyond work or lounging around the house dropped to zero.
Marcie had made me promise I would show up for drinks tonight. We were meeting at a local pub for happy hour. Low-key, though it felt like a huge deal for me. The first real outing as a single woman.
I had been set up on a few dates previously, but this felt different. Maybe now I was ready. I was accepting my single status, where I hadn’t before.
Sitting back on my bed, I pulled in deep breaths, feeling panic rising in my throat, the desire to crawl under my covers and never come out.
A thump sounded on the front door, and I rose slowly, not thinking as I moved, feeling sweaty with anxiety.
I swung open the door and sucked in sharply.
Mason was on the other side, appearing every bit the trouble he was, his cap pulled down, drawing focus to his strong jaw and perfect lips. He was a bolt to my chest.
“What’s wrong?” His gaze moved over me.
“Nothing,” I replied, throwing a smile on my face, moving back.
He stepped in, stopping in front of me, his attention heavy, once again tearing at my walls. “Don’t give me the fake smile. What’s wrong?”
“You don’t know me.” A flare of defensive anger jerked my shoulders, my head popping up in insolence, tilting back to look fully up at him. I felt seen. No one had ever called me out on that. “And my smile wasn’t fake. That’s my smile.”
“No, it’s not.” He spoke low, an excuse to get closer. “What’s wrong?”
“I said I was fine.” I folded my arms.
He tilted his head, not letting up. “And I call bullshit.”
Emotion built behind my lids, bare and vulnerable, and I was pissed a nineteen-year-old guy seemed to see right through me.
I peered down at my shoes, my head shaking. “It’s nothing… I’m going out to a pub with friends, and…” Shut up, Em. You can’t tell him how you miss your husband. That you are scared as shit to be back on the singles market again. It was wrong talking to Mason like this. “Never mind. It’s nothing.” I turned, desperate to get away from the heat of his body, the way he watched me. The way I longed for him to wrap me up in his arms, his body engulfing mine.
“Thank you again for fixing the washer.” I nodded at the tools and part he carried. “Let me know what I owe you.”
He didn’t respond, watching me, slicing through the barrier I was trying to keep up.
“Grab whatever you want from the kitchen. Addison should be home in an hour or so. I’m going to go get ready.” I didn’t give him time to respond, dashing back to my room. The walls protected me from his gaze.
From him.
Pulling on some jeans, a nice top, and heels, I left my hair down and did simple makeup before heading down the hall.
Clanks and bangs chimed from the garage, drawing me to him. Telling myself I was merely checking in on his progress, I grabbed a light jacket, purse, and keys, stepping out into the garage.
“Everything going okay?”
Mason’s head snapped to me. His black eyes skimmed over every inch of my figure, like fingers caressing my skin. His expression stayed impassive, but I noticed his nostrils flared, his throat bobbing. “Yeah.”
Dark, coiling heat pulsed between my thighs with an acute throb. My teeth drove into my lip. Slamming my walls up, my own expression becoming deadpan.
“Good.” I nodded with an unfriendly tone. “How much do I owe you?”
His focus on me didn’t relent as he stood fully up, his shirt sticking to him, cutting into his muscular torso. He looked nothing like a high schooler. The other boys Addison hung around seemed like children to me. Pompous, arrogant little boys playing grown-up. Trying to act like men.
Mason was what they were all pretending to be. He made men my own age seem young and immature.
“It’s on the house.”
“No.” I shook my head, my hair tickling my arms. “You bought the part. Let me at least reimburse you for it.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Then what do you want?” The moment the question tumbled off my tongue, I wanted to swipe it up and shove it back into my mouth. I could hear the implication, the innuendo, as if I really were Mrs. Robinson propositioning a younger man.
His jaw twitched, his gaze growing even more penetrating. For one split second before sanity took control again, I let my mind imagine him striding up to me, slamming me up against the dryer, kissing me fiercely. Feeling him thrust into me, showing me true pleasure. It was not sweet or loving. It was raw, brutal, passionate, and intense.
Looking away, I flushed from desire and complete shame because Mason fit perfectly into my faceless fantasy man. I had no doubt Mason picked up on something; the air in the room was thick and carnal.
“Here’s some money.” I pulled the a few bills from my purse, slamming it on the dryer, trying not to picture my bare ass on it while he drove into me. Damn, it would be hot. I patted at my hairline, peppered with sweat. It was warm tonight.
Mason sauntered over, his finger curling around the money, his cap blocking half of his face from me.
“If it’s not enough, let me know. If it’s over, use it to buy you and Addison dinner.” I purposely brought up her name, reminding myself and him she was the one he should be here to see. Should be dating.
Though the idea of Mason dating Addy didn’t fit. I would want to protect her from guys similar to Mason. He was way too advanced. I loved her more than anything, but she was still immature, and too desperate for affection. Someone like him would destroy her.