Chapter 32
32
PIA
Something had been off with Mason all weekend. Though I couldn’t put my finger on it, exactly, he was more like the Mason I’d first met than the one I’d fallen in love with.
Dammit.
I hadn’t asked for it. Or gone looking for it. But there it was. When he’d asked me to stay the weekend, it took everything in me not to say “Yes!” Instead I played it cool, trying like hell to match his energy. Go with the flow. Be like water.
Inside, though?
“I didn’t ask you here to work,” Mason said, coming into the office. When I got up, he and Parker had already been installing windows. I’d gone over to the inn’s kitchen to talk to Esther and caught up with the weekend guests, but apparently Mason had done that already when I was sleeping. For a guy who didn’t think he’d be good at the innkeeping part of Heritage Hill, Mason was incredibly efficient and attentive.
Wandering back, instead of disturbing the guys, and not ready to go home, I’d wandered in here. Having chatted with Delaney earlier this week, I came up with a finalized plan for our initial phase of community partnership outreach and couldn’t wait to get started. Although it was too late to plan something for the holidays, an idea of a New Year’s Eve bash at Heritage Hill, catered by the Grapevine Bistro, was still doable.
“I know. But I had a dream last night that it was our first big event, and I forgot to order wine. One of the guests was a writer for Wine Spectator and left in a huff. It was a nightmare, actually, come to think about it.”
Mason sat across from me. No kiss. No sex on the desk. In fact, we hadn’t christened anything but his bed this weekend, and though it had been incredible…
“Your boss is an asshole,” he said, paint splattered all over his white tee. He had no business looking so hot, mussed up as he was. But that was Mason for you. The man would look sexy in a potato sack.
“I don’t think so. At least, not most of the time.”
He smiled. “Meant to say, ex-boss.”
“That I’ll give you. But my wine nightmare has nothing to do with him.”
“Sure it does.”
I hated when he was so matter of fact. “No, it’s about…” What was it about? Me not doing a good job? Something I never questioned until… “Fine, maybe a little.”
“Pia,” he said, sitting forward as I sank. “You are one of the most intelligent, capable, visionary people I know. It was his loss and our gain, so I’m glad he’s an asshole. But I also hate that he’s still making you question yourself, even for a second.”
A warm, fuzzy feeling enveloped me at his words. I didn’t want to need them.
“Thank you,” I said simply.
“You’re welcome.” He grinned. “And I’m not saying that because we’re sleeping together.”
Sleeping together. That’s all we were, I supposed.
Be like water .
“You sure about that?”
“Positive.”
No longer smiling, Mason cocked his head to the side, as if contemplating me.
“I have a question for you. Don’t jump to conclusions, but… if I were to go back to the city, are you serious about managing the inn yourself? We could hire someone to help, of course, but it would still be a more intense job than you’d bargained for.”
“You’re going back,” I said, aware my tone was flat. Aware I’d just jumped to a conclusion, as he’d asked me not to do.
“I’m considering it,” he admitted. “But nothing’s set in stone.”
“Obviously you’re considering it,” I said, trying to keep the judgment out of my voice. “That’s your career. It would be insane not to consider it.”
But…
I left the rest unsaid.
But I thought you liked it here. Liked me. Just the other day when we sat on the back deck, you’d said the troubles of the city seemed so far away .
Maybe I’d read too much into that, but part of me thought it was an admission, of sorts. That you liked Cedar Falls more than Manhattan. That maybe, just maybe, you’d decided to stay .
“I talked to the chief on Friday.”
It was odd he hadn’t mentioned that earlier. “What did he say?”
“Just that he wants me to come back. Reminded me the clock is ticking, as if I wasn’t fully aware of the fact.”
“I see.”
For a second I thought Mason would get up from his chair and come over to me. Lean in for a kiss, tell me not to worry, that we would be okay. I knew what we had talked about, but every day since then, we’d grown closer. Learned more about each other. This morning, waking up in his arms, I’d almost convinced myself all was well, and that we were a regular couple.
But we weren’t. The ticking time bomb of Mason’s two lives was about to explode.
He didn’t move.
“I’m sure the guys are wondering where you went off to. Is Beck painting too?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’ll finish up here and head back soon to get ready for lunch with Delaney.”
His brows drew together. “I didn’t know you were meeting her for lunch today.”
That was because I wasn’t. But hanging around here while Mason was working… while it had seemed earlier like a good idea, the picture of domesticity, now it didn’t quite appeal. He was pulling back. So this was me just matching his energy.
“Last-minute thing,” I said. So last minute, in fact, Delaney didn’t even know about it yet.
“Hmm.” Mason stood. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
I could have continued to look at him. Beckoned him with my eyes. Asked for him to come to me. I could have stood and gone to him. But I did none of those things. Instead I mumbled, “Sounds good,” and turned to my laptop as if I were an air traffic controller about to prevent two planes from colliding.
Without another word, he left. Whether Mason was mad that I’d become closed off or was just distancing himself because he had already made a decision about heading back to work, I couldn’t be sure.
One thing was for sure. Though no voices were raised or ill words spoken, Mason and I had just experienced our first fight. As a couple. Or not. Because we weren’t a couple. We were just two people who wanted each other very badly, and one person who was dumb enough to catch feelings despite all of the warning signs that it was a bad idea.
I shut my laptop. There was no way in hell I could work today. With any luck, Delaney could actually go to lunch with me. I texted her, and it took all of two minutes for her to respond. She’d love to meet for lunch. Great.
Thank goodness for girlfriends.