Chapter 42
42
PIA
“Sorry to bail on you guys, but I think I’m tapped.”
Delaney, Jules and I had just finished dinner at Bella Luna. At first when Delaney had asked, I’d told her the same as Parker and Beck… that I was planning to stay back and catch up on some work. Truth was, tonight was the night I’d planned to tell Mason that I couldn’t do this anymore. That I was getting way too attached, which sounded better than “I love you too much to be casual.” Because of it, I just wasn’t in the mood to be social.
But Delaney wouldn’t take no for an answer. Told me she knew why I was moping (okay, maybe I was moping a little) and that I should at least come to dinner.
“One more drink,” Jules prodded.
Was it my imagination, or did she and Delaney just exchange a look?
“I’ll grab the waitress and tell her one more round of wine,” Delaney said before I could stop her. If I’d known Jules better, I’d ask about that look. Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
Also, my nerves were absolutely shot, so more likely, it was all in my head.
“Couldn’t wait,” Delaney said, sitting back down. “You were 100 percent going to bail.”
“True. But I also hadn’t wanted to come in the first place.”
Jules was caught up on the Mason drama so knew the real reason I’d planned to stay home.
“Are you glad you did?” Delaney asked.
“I am. That manicotti rivaled my mother’s. Please don’t ever tell her, though.”
“I would never,” Delaney said.
We finished our wines, talking about our jobs, Jules’s writing, and finally, when the thought of breaking up completely with Mason popped into my head for the millionth time, I pulled out my wallet.
Again, the two women seemed… off. Delaney got on her phone, presumably to text her boyfriend. When she finished, she finally agreed to let me go, and the three of us paid and left. Although it was only a few blocks off the main square in town, the two insisted on walking me back to the inn.
As expected, the house was quiet. Beck was working, and Parker had headed to O’Malley’s. There hadn’t been any messages, but I still headed over to the guest section of the inn. All was quiet there too.
I’d taken a shower before heading out, but since I was too keyed up to head to bed, and my brain would definitely not function to do any work, I took another. Made a coffee—probably a terrible idea. Paced the kitchen for a while. And then finally, knowing Mason was home by now, and with no other choice, I headed to my bedroom and called him.
He answered on the first ring.
“Hey there,” he said, sounding more cheery than usual.
“Hey,” I said, aware my voice sounded as opposite as possible from his. “Why is it so dark over there?” I could barely see him.
“Too exhausted to turn on the lamp,” he said. “How’s it going?”
I sat up. Pooled the words together in my head. “It’s going,” I said, trying to figure out how to start.
“You look like you could use a little pick-me-up.”
I shook my head. “I’m not feeling it, to be honest,” I started, figuring he’d given me a good opening. I took a deep breath.
“How about you let me give you one anyway,” he said, cutting me off. “Come on into my bedroom.”
What did he just say?
“Excuse me?”
“I said, you look like you could use a little pick-me-up. Come into my bedroom, and I’ll give you one.”
He was making absolutely no sense.
“Mason. That’s not possible.”
“Sure it is. Get out of bed. Walk down the hall. And come into my bedroom.”
My heart thudded inside my chest. He couldn’t possibly be serious? If Mason was here, he’d have told me he was coming. Wouldn’t he?
“Come on, sweet Pia. I’m waiting for you.”
With that, he was gone. Mason had literally hung up on me.
I’m waiting for you.
It wasn’t possible.
Even so, I swung my legs out of bed, stopped at the mirror briefly, looking at my reflection, and then numbly made my way down the hall. Feeling foolish, I stood in front of his door, looking around.
Nothing.
And then I pulled it open. Gasped. And nearly fainted.
There were white flower petals and candles everywhere. But the reason all breath was sucked from me was Mason himself.
Down on one knee, waiting for me.
Before I could register that fact fully, he began talking.
“I was scared, Pia. And still am. But I realized that being afraid of losing you was a ridiculous fear since I was already doing just that.”
If he only knew how true his words really were, what I’d almost done tonight.
Mason was here. On one knee. It was taking some time for it to all sink in.
His hand rose up between us.
“It was my mother’s. Nothing grand, by any means. Will you marry me, Pia? I love you and want to run Heritage Hill with you. Make the heritage our own.”
His mother’s ring.
Will you marry me?
“Your job?” was all I managed.
“Retired cop doesn’t have as ominous a ring to it as I expected.”
He was retiring from law enforcement. Staying here.
Asking me to marry him!
“Mason,” I said, as if he were sitting across from me at the kitchen island and not kneeling below me, hand raised with his mother’s ring, asking me to marry him. “I never told you I loved you.”
“Do you?”
“Of course I do.”
He knew it all along. As if I’d hidden it well.
“I do,” I said, still in shock. “I do love you, Mason. So much that I was going to tell you tonight, I couldn’t do it. There’s no way I could be in a casual relationship with you.”
“Can you be in a long-term committed one? As in, the rest of our lives?”
To get engaged after so short a time? On the same night I thought we were breaking up? It was madness. But life was short, and nothing felt more right than being with Mason.
“Yes,” I said, the tears flowing before he could get the ring on my finger. It didn’t fit, so he put it on my pinkie.
“We’ll have to fix that.”
It was so imperfect. Our relationship. Our engagement. Not at all like the movies or the way things were supposed to go. But none of that mattered. Only he mattered.
Mason stood up, reaching for me. I was in his arms, our mouths melding, before either of us could say another word.
A bang at the door, followed by a loud curse and exclamation of “Beck, seriously?” had Mason pulling away. With a look of sorry he stalked to the door.
Parker and Beck all but tumbled inside.
Mason folded his arms but neither of his friends seemed at all contrite.
“Well?” Beck asked. “We couldn’t hear a thing. Guess these old doors are made pretty well.”
I stifled a laugh and held out my hand. “Didn’t quite fit,” I said. “Was his mother’s.”
The brevity of that statement wasn’t lost on them, even Beck. He whistled and came into the bedroom. There were hugs and congratulations all around, and it wasn’t until Parker looked at the room that he said, “Guess we’re interrupting here.”
I changed my mind. It wasn’t imperfect, just unconventional. These guys were his family, and I knew Beck usually closed on Friday which meant he had left early to be here.
“Not at all.”
Mason cleared his throat, glaring at me.
I smiled. “I know you have at least one bottle of champagne downstairs. Let’s go celebrate. After I get some clothes on,” I said, the oversized tee with my legs sticking out not exactly a party outfit.
“You sure?” Mason asked.
“Absolutely. We’ll meet you downstairs,” I said to the guys. When we were alone once more, I confessed what I’d been about to do. “I thought we were going to break up tonight,” I admitted.
As expected, Mason didn’t seem very pleased. “Is that why you didn’t want to go out?”
Suddenly, the look that passed between Delaney and Jules flashed back through my mind. “You got Delaney to ask me out to dinner.” I waved my arms around the room. “To do this?”
“Guilty as charged. You said no to the boys so…” He shrugged.
“She knew? Jules too?”
“I assume so, but can’t say for sure. But I will tell you, Delaney gave me an earful first about treating you right. And something about you being so brave, and she hoped I appreciated that. She was talking so fast I couldn’t really catch it all.”
I’d have to thank Delaney for that one. “I’ll explain later.”
“Why don’t you change, and I’ll blow out these candles.”
Though I said, “Good idea,” I didn’t move.
He seemed to understand. Mason scooped me up in his arms, kissed me again, and we stayed that way with the scent of vanilla and roses around us.
No, not imperfect at all. Just the opposite.