“Sounds amazing,” I murmur.
“Waiting hours for a table?”
“Making plans for the future with you.”
She sighs and relaxes back into her seat. “Yeah, that is pretty amazing.”
It really is, I think, and getting better with every passing day.
Chapter 16
Lark
The day grows hot, but not too hot, and Mason and I spend every minute of it outside, hiking, skipping rocks on the beach, and driving the boat around the lake until the sun begins to slide lower in the sky.
By the time Mason drops me at my parents’ house to take a shower and runs back to his hotel to do the same, it’s nearly five o’clock. I’m sad to see him go, but less than forty minutes later, I hear a car pulling up to the curb out front.
I push the curtains aside and peek out the second story window to see Mason emerging from the Audie, proving he’s every bit as eager to get back to me as I am to have him by my side. Grinning, I swing out of my room and race down the stairs in my bare feet. “It’s for me! I’ll get it,” I shout as I throw open the door, fighting the urge to leap into Mason’s arms and kiss him until we’re both breathless.
He looks…gorgeous.
His damp hair swoops low on his forehead, stopping just above magnetic blue eyes that practically beg me to drag him to my bedroom, lock the door, and show him just how happy I am to see him. His fitted jeans cling to his strong legs and his black button-down shirt, rolled up on his forearms, emphasizes the sexy scruff on his cheeks.
He looks good enough to eat, good enough to devour inch by delicious inch. I don’t want to share this man. I want to be alone with him, now, preferably with both of us wearing as little clothing as possible.
But that’s exactly why I planned this cookout.
If I don’t surround myself with people, I’m not going to make it another day without pouncing on Mason like a she-cat after a man-sized hunk of catnip, and that doesn’t seem like the smartest idea four dates into our second chance.
“Long time, no see,” Mason says, his grin as wide as mine.
“You didn’t take the time to shave.” I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms, not missing the way Mason’s gaze flicks down to the cleavage displayed by my black baby doll dress and back up again.
“I was in a hurry,” he says, stepping closer.
“In a hurry for what?” I ask innocently. “Dinner isn’t being served until seven.”
“In a hurry to get back to this woman I like a whole lot.” Mason reaches for me, pulling me out the door and into his arms. “She’s about your height and wearing this little black dress that I think might drive me crazy by the end of the night. Or ten minutes from now, I can’t be sure.”
“Is that right?” I put my arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to whisper my next words inches from his lips. “And why’s that?”
“Because she looks amazing, and I want to touch her so badly it’s probably criminal.”
“You’re touching me right now.” I lean in, pressing my breasts against his chest.
A pained expression flickers across his face, and I shiver.
I understand that pain.
I feel it all over, in every place that aches for him to touch me, taste me, slip his fingers between my legs and discover how much I want him. I’m so keyed up even a friendly hug on my parents’ front porch is enough to make my panties wet. I’m pretty sure I’m becoming what my Great Aunt Regina would call a “shameless hussy,” but Mason feels too good to care.
“You’re killing me.” He shifts until my hips are fitted against his, and the hard ridge behind his fly confirms that I’m not the only shameless hussy around these parts.
“Killing you?’ I echo.
“But what a way to go,” he says, his voice a low rumble that sends tingles across my electrified skin. His hand skims down to cup my bottom, nudging me closer to the thick length I’m dying to feel inside me.
“What’s the male version of a shameless hussy?” I ask, my breath coming faster. “A huss?
Mason arches a brow. “A hoss?”
“No, that’s like…a cool guy. In the seventies.”
“A man whore?”
I tilt my head back, bringing my lips closer to his as I whisper, “No. Hussies don’t get paid. They’re in it for the wicked, wonderful, shameless pleasure of it all.”
His jaw tightens. “I’m definitely in it for all of those things. God, Lark, you feel so good. Just holding you is…” He trails off with a shudder that echoes through me. His fingers dig deeper into my bottom, making me wonder what it will feel like when he does that with nothing between us but skin.
From there, my mind quickly spirals straight into the gutter and the last of my reason vanishes in a rush of desire. “Let’s get out of here.”
He blinks. “We can’t… Can we?”
“Sure we can,” I say, fisting my hands in his shirt. “We can go to my place. It’s close.”
“What about the cookout?” But Mason is already backing away from the door, drawing me with him.
“We’ll be fast,” I say, not caring that I’m barefoot or that I’m leaving without telling my sisters where I’m going, not caring about anything but getting closer to Mason. “We’ll be there and back before anyone—”
“Lark! Mason!” calls a light voice from inside.
A moment later Melody appears at the front door, her eyebrows shooting up when she sees us practically humping each other on the front porch. But she quickly recovers, playing it cool as she adds, “Um, hey you two! Sorry to bother you, but I think I messed something up.”
“Messed what up?” I run a hand over my hair, fighting to breathe normally as Mason sets me back on my feet. I turn, blocking his body with my own, hopefully providing some cover for the hard-on situation. I’m sure Melody won’t be looking in that region, but Mason isn’t small and the strained front of his jeans would be hard to miss. Hopefully we can keep this short and sweet and Melody will head back into the house.
“Am I supposed to bring the basting sauce to a boil and simmer it for a few minutes, or just bring it to a boil and then remove it from the heat?” she asks. “The notes on your old recipe card are smeared.”
“Let it simmer,” I say with a nod.
“How long?” Melody asks. “Because there isn’t a lot of excess liquid and I don’t want to run out of—”
“Just put it on to simmer and I’ll be in in a second.” I widen my eyes at my sister in a silent plea for a moment of privacy.
“Oh. Okay. I’ll go get the grill started then.” Melody backs away with a little wave. “Glad you’re here, Mason!”
“Thanks, me too,” he calls after her.
I turn to glance at him over my shoulder, biting my lip. “I think our escape has been thwarted.”
“Probably for the best. Nash will be here soon.” He takes my hand and pulls me through the door, adding in a softer voice, “And I don’t want a quickie with you, Sunshine. Not the first time. I want all night, hours and hours to worship every inch of your beautiful body.”