22. Mason
22
MASON
N early a month had flown by and with it, a million little things that had brought us all closer. Beck was over the moon his father was signing him up for the most prestigious football camp this side of Tennessee, and we’d made a habit of throwing the ball around as often as possible.
Jacob had been surprisingly quiet which, in my experience, wasn’t a good sign. There was no way he magically would approve of me being with Lana, and if it weren’t for Beck and Holland, I wouldn’t give a shit.
But I’d seen the bond Otto had formed with his wife’s ex-husband, the lot of them coparenting in harmony and matching shirts. I didn’t need that, but civility would make everything a lot easier.
I saw the strain his actions put on Lana. It wasn’t fair to her, and given the chance, I’d knock some sense into him for being such an asshole to the family he didn’t deserve.
For now, I check the time on my phone again . Lana had to take Beck to a doctor’s appointment, and I’d gotten out of work early to get Holland off the bus. It feels like a big step in our relationship. The fact that she trusts me to get her daughter and keep her safe until she gets home warms my heart more than a little.
The bus groans as it comes to a stop in front of the house, and the doors are barely open before Holland comes barreling down the steps, running across the grass and into my arms.
“Mason!” she yells as she jumps, the force making me stagger back with a laugh.
“Hey kiddo, how was your day?”
The girl barely takes a breath as I follow her inside, telling me about her classes and an art project she’s been working hard on and a dozen other little things that had crossed her mind today.
Dutifully, she empties her backpack as we negotiate an after-school snack consisting of a sliced apple with peanut butter and one of the chocolate candies in the dish on the counter.
It is one of the more stressful things I’ve had to do recently, mainly because I know we’ll both get in trouble with Lana if I screw up.
And I sure as hell don’t want that.
Setting her now washed lunch container in the drying rack, I’m almost ready to grab a snack of my own when something catches my eye.
“Hey, what’s that?” I ask as I pull the brightly colored sheet of paper from the stack Holland placed on the counter.
She looks at it and then up at me. “It’s nothing.”
The tone of her voice tells me it’s definitely something, and I have to tread lightly.
My eyes track over the words, Father-Daughter Dance being held at Blackstone Falls Elementary School.
“It’s stupid,” Holland remarks, dropping her backpack onto the floor and huffing.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, picking up her backpack and placing it on the hook. She wants to talk; I can tell. I just need to give her time.
“Emma at school said that her dad is wearin’ a tie that matches her dress.” Holland worries her bottom lip with her teeth. “My dad would never go. I mean, he didn’t even take Mommy out except for work.” She sighs and it damn near breaks my heart. “No way he’d take me out like that.” Her eyes linger on the paper before she snatches it off the counter and tosses it in the garbage.
“Did you talk to your mom about it?” I ask, but Holland just shakes her head.
“It’s okay,” she says with a shrug of one shoulder. “They have a thing with moms right before the end of school.”
She picks up her plate and takes it to the table with a cup of milk and sits as a show plays in the background. It’s the end of the conversation.
I know that.
But I hope like hell it doesn’t have to be the end of the story.
”Hey, thanks for watching Holland. They had an opening and the timing just worked,” Lana says, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. “You saved the day.”
She shifts, her tits brushing against my chest as she kisses the corner of my mouth. My hands grip her hips, but instead of indulging in this little kitchen foreplay, I push her back a step, making her frown.
“I need to ask you something,” I say quietly, making sure I can hear Holland and Beck laughing upstairs.
“Okay,” she says, trying to step out of my hold as she draws out the word. But I need the contact, so I tangle my fingers in hers so I know she can’t get away.
“Holland brought home a flyer for the father-daughter dance.” Lana’s face falls, putting the pieces together immediately. Well, not all of them. “I was wondering if it would be okay if I took her, not as her dad, of course, but as her date?”
Lana’s mouth opens and closes as her head tilts to the side. “You want to date my daughter?” The words are teasing, and I chuff out a laugh.
“Take her on a date.” I sigh. “She said the father of a friend got a tie to match her dress. Holland was tryin’ not to be upset.”
“But she’s upset.”
“I think she’s hurt. And I don’t want to overstep,” I say, leveling my gaze with hers, “ever. So I’m asking for your permission, because I’d like to take Holland to that dance.”
She releases my hands and wraps her arms around my neck, her momentum sending my ass into the edge of the counter with a grunt. It’s the second time a Richards woman has practically knocked me over.
It would have made me laugh, but I don’t get the chance because her lips are on mine and she’s rocking her hips against me and god damn this woman.
Lana tastes like caramel and the vanilla gloss she puts over her lipstick, and I want to devour her.
Except the kids are right upstairs.
“Is that a yes?” I murmur, pulling us both back to reality as my mouth kicks up on one side.
“It’s a yes,” she says as she holds my face in her hands, “and I am so incredibly thankful for you.”
“Stop it before you make me blush,” I manage because even though it’s supposed to be lighthearted, I can’t help the way my heart is damn near exploding over this moment.
“You’re sexy when you blush,” Lana purrs as her gaze drifts down my body, letting me know exactly what she’s thinking.
“I need to get you alone,” I growl and she laughs.
“We’re alone right now,” she points out before nipping at my jaw and almost making me give in.
“Soon, Dream Girl, so very soon.”