Chapter 26
26
MASON
It was impossible not to think of my father as I cooked as the smell of garlic wafted through the kitchen. One that was suddenly occupied by Parker, who said he was heading to O’Malley’s for the night.
“Smells good. Maybe I’ll join you and Pia for dinner before I head out.”
“Funny,” I said, my phone lighting up.
On my way.
I gave Pia’s text a thumbs up and turned on the water to boil pasta.
“Time for you to bounce, hotshot,” I said as Parker opened the silverware drawer.
“I will. Just have to test this out.” Putting his fork in the pan, he cut off a piece of chicken scampi and took a bite. “Not bad. Just like the big guy.”
“He was one hell of a cook, wasn’t he?”
“The best. He’d even put my mom to shame, but don’t tell her I said that.”
“Pretty sure I won’t since she’s in Rochester, and I never see her.”
“Speaking of Rochester, when the indoor renovations are done, I’m gonna head there for a weekend. She’s been after me to visit and won’t wait till Thanksgiving.”
“Go anytime. I’ve got things under control here.”
By now, Parker had gotten a plate out, pulled the rest of the piece of chicken onto it and was eating at the island.
“For now. Your leave clock is ticking. I heard you have a meeting with Paul Baker on Friday. You seriously considering selling the place? Seems to me you’ve got a solid plan for it.”
“I figured I’d at least hear his offer and go from there. Any of the improvements we make will only increase its value.”
Parker was quiet while he ate. Emptying the box of angel hair into the pot of boiling water, I tried not to think about it. Which was impossible, of course. The end of my leave was like a sword of Damocles hanging over my head. Every day it came closer, my life path seemed more and more uncertain.
And then there was Pia.
“Hey, guys.”
Speak of the devil.
Parker raised a hand in greeting, having just taken a mouthful of chicken. I tried to finish the meal without staring at her like a lovesick teen. Not an easy task. She looked amazing. Jeans. Black booties. A black, low-cut shirt that made it next to impossible not to stare at her incredible tits and imagine myself cupping them, my head leaning down to take each one into my mouth, hardening her nipples while?—
“The water.” Pia gestured to my pasta pot. Shit. I turned down the heat, took a deep breath and tried again.
“Hey, Pia. Don’t mind Parker. He was just leaving.”
“Chicken’s great,” Parker said, putting his dish in the sink. Then to me, he whispered, “Get those bills ready to pay up. You’re going down, buddy.”
“No chance,” I said quietly.
I might be losing the battle, but I could never lose the war. If I was dumb enough to fall in love then I’d have to accept the possibility of the kind of lifelong heartbreak Dad suffered.
No. Fucking. Way.
“Get the hell out of here,” I said.
“There’s a reason he was made sergeant in the army,” Parker said to Pia. “Have a good dinner.”
“See you,” she said, laughing. “So, a sergeant, huh?” she asked, opening drawers. “That explains a lot.”
“Uh huh. Whatcha looking for?”
“A wine opener. Brought a special bottle from Emilio’s.”
“In there.” I indicated a drawer. “You didn’t have to do that. We have plenty of wine.”
“But are they special?”
Not as special as you .
The line rolled through my mind, unspoken. Not because it wasn’t true, but because it was.
“Obviously not,” I said, straining the pasta and plating our meals. “Island or dining room?”
“Island,” she said, turning the lights down slightly and cleaning the counter.
“My father used to always say ‘clean as you go.’ I never realized until a few years ago that came from the army, where he was a cook.”
“Your father was a cook in the army? I had no idea.”
Finishing up, I joined her, picking up my now-filled wine glass. “There’s lots you don’t know about me, Miss Pia Russo.”
“Well, you said you wanted to know everything about me. Same goes for you. Tell me more.”
We ate, drank wine and started from the beginning. I told her about early days, when my mother was still alive, and Pia regaled me with stories of her sisters’ antics. We talked about middle school, high school and college. Even exes.
The thought of Pia with any guy wasn’t a happy one, and I didn’t normally consider myself a jealous person.
“So what did you do to the principal guy to get back at him?”
Pia had told me about a guy she particularly liked, and said getting back at him after he cheated was one of her favorite guilty-pleasure memories.
“I was lucky enough to be invited to a fourth of July party I knew he’d be at. Wore my white bikini, which I knew he adored. I happened to be in really good shape at the time, and was totally over him by then, so it was easy to say ‘thanks but no thanks’ when he tried to rekindle.”
“Okay,” I said, taking a sip of wine. “Lots to unpack. First of all, you’re in really good shape now. Second, I didn’t know my sweet Pia had a little vengeful streak. And third of all, please tell me you still have this white bikini.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t. That was a few years ago. And I don’t consider myself vengeful usually but…” She smirked. “I guess, guilty as charged in this case.”
As we finished eating, I’d planned to just grab Pia’s plate, but when I stood close enough to her that I could smell her perfume, I leaned down to kiss her instead. She tasted like garlic, wine and promise. When she kissed me back as if she’d been waiting for that, I reached around the back of her neck and pulled her closer. We’d nearly polished off the bottle of wine she brought, but that didn’t affect me nearly as much as this kiss.
“Mmm,” I murmured, standing up and taking my stool again. “Any more of that and we’ll never get to our talk.”
“Ahh, the big talk.”
“The big talk,” I repeated. “I’m more concerned with you than me, Pia. I don’t want this to ever be awkward for you.”
“Dating the boss man and all,” she teased.
“Exactly.”
Pia picked up her wine glass. “I know you’re my boss, but in a lot of ways we feel more like partners. I honestly don’t think it’ll be awkward. But lots of things can happen.”
“Which is my concern. So let’s talk about them.”
“You make this sound very methodical, like a mission or something.”
“Occupational hazard,” I admitted.
“It’s fine. Let’s do it. Then I would like you to make good on your promise about christening the inn, please.”
She said it so sweetly and understatedly that it took a second for Pia’s words to sink in. As they did, thoughts of our talk went right out the door. But when I tried to stand back up, Pia held up her hand.
“My bad. Shouldn’t have said that. Business first.”
Imagining ripping Pia’s clothes off and finding one of many, many rooms to christen wasn’t going a long way to a business-first discussion.
“Seriously.” Pia’s smile reached all the way up to her eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“You really should have, though.”
“Lots of things can happen. We’re talking about them. Go.”
My dick was not going to survive this woman. Growing hard for the third time since she walked into the kitchen, I looked away and thought of puppies until Pia became concerned.
“You okay, Mason?”
“Not really, but let’s do it. First of all,” I said, “I could be heading back to the city in a couple of weeks.”
“Which is something I wanted to talk to you about, actually. If you decide to do that, would you ever consider not selling and letting me manage Heritage Hill on my own?”
“I’ve already considered it. But that’s a much bigger job than you signed on for.”
“True,” she said. “But I really do like it here and I know we could do amazing things. I’m ready for the challenge.”
Pia had managed to surprise me, something very few people did. “Until we’re back in the black, your compensation?—”
“Could be built into future profits. I’m not looking to take more until that happens.”
“You sure about that?”
“I am.”
“Consider it considered,” I said.
“Great.”
So far, so good. Better than good, actually.
“So possibility one, I sell. But if that happens,” I added, already having decided for Friday’s meeting, “you and Esther stay on as a condition of the sale. At least for a period of time that works for all of us.”
Pia’s brows raised. “Quite a turnaround from being fired on the spot.”
“So kind of you to remind me,” I said, lighting the candle on the island. Pia liked candles and always had one burning in her office. Sitting here, finishing our wine after dinner, was nice.
Really nice.
“Alright, so what else. You go back to the city. Heritage Hill, hopefully, remains in the Bennett family. That’s scenario one.”
When she said “remains in the Bennett family,” a twisting in my gut to imagine it otherwise almost made me want to cancel the appointment Friday. How could I ever sell my dad’s inn? Especially now that I had a viable alternative. Pia would be a fantastic innkeeper. Better than me, actually.
Shaking it off, I dove into scenario two. “I stay. We don’t work out.”
“Awk-ward,” she said, laughing. “I’m kidding. Obviously that was the risk we took jumping into this. Whatever this is. We’ll just have to be adults about it. If Hollywood actors can kiss their coworker exes, I’m sure we can manage, right?”
“Kiss their… never mind. That is the big risk here. But I’d like to talk about the ‘whatever this is’ part of your equation.”
“Shoot.”
“I don’t share.”
Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting that. “As in, like a threesome?”
“As in,” I clarified, “at all.”
“I see.”
“Is that a problem?”
She thought about it for a second. “Only inasmuch as ‘sharing’ implies dating other people. And if we’re not dating other people…”
Pia let that one hang out to dry. But I also didn’t want her to get the wrong impression. “I’m not talking about something serious between us. We can keep it casual. I can’t tell what the future will bring. But in the meantime, I’m not the kind of guy to be intimate with more than one woman.”
“So exclusive, but not serious.”
“Exactly.”
“And if you do move?”
“Obviously that changes things. I wouldn’t expect either of us not to date.”
“Do you have any idea how confusing all of this is, Mason?”
“Seems pretty straightforward to me.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Is there any room for negotiation?”
“Such as?”
Pia plopped her elbows on the counter, resting her chin on her hands. “Let me think.”
After a few minutes, when she didn’t say anything, I stood up. Moved behind her. Made good on what I’d wanted to do all through dinner as my hand reached underneath her shirt, splaying on the bare skin beneath. Inching my way up to her breasts, I covered Pia’s lace bra with both hands, rubbing my thumb over her nipples.
“Still thinking?” I whispered.
“Mmhmm,” she murmured, leaning into my hands.
“Any way I can help?”
She sat up so that her back touched my chest. “You’re actually doing just the opposite. My brain isn’t working now.”
“Good,” I said, pulling down the material of her bra. I could have taken an extra few seconds to unclasp it, but this would do.
“Mason, you’re not playing fair.”
“How about this for fair,” I asked, slipping one of my hands from under her sweater down to the button of her jeans. Making quick work of that, and the zipper, my fingers found their mark. She was already so fucking wet.
If Pia wanted to negotiate, she could do it with my hands all over her, my mouth finding her ear and telling her exactly how this night was going to go, starting with a climax on this stool and ending with me claiming her body in every goddamn room she could handle.
Not letting up until she thrust into my hand and screamed my name, I decided to start a count.
“That’s one, sweet Pia. How about we talk again after a few more of those.”