Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Emma aced her interview, connected with the owner of the shops over their shared love of Charlottesville, and was offered the job right on the spot.
She was going to take the evening to think it over, but she was leaning toward saying yes.
The pay and benefits were good, and the commute would be a breeze as their main office was downtown.
On her way home, she stopped by the grocery store, which was unusually crowded, to grab ingredients for dinner and then by the ABC store to pick up a bottle of Pinot Grigio for tonight and a Cabernet Sauvignon to keep on hand.
She planned to make them dinner tonight.
Although she was focused on regaining her friend, she couldn’t ignore the butterflies of excitement that still coursed through her anytime she was near Mason.
After buckling herself in, she started her Honda Civic and glanced up.
A familiar shock of silky blonde strands caught her eyes.
Kaylee. She was still as beautiful as ever.
Emma knew why Mason had been drawn to her.
Everyone was. She had been the cheer co-captain when Mason was a senior on the football team, and she’d been a genuinely nice person. They’d been a perfect match.
Kaylee held a toddler with hair even lighter than hers as she headed into the grocery store. She appeared to be singing to the child and had a glow on her cheeks from the cold, brisk wind. Her belly was round, and she cradled it with the hand not holding her boy.
Jealousy slammed into her, quickly replaced by happiness for Kaylee. Despite Kaylee being more than three years older than Emma, the woman had always been kind to her. Kaylee now had a beautiful family, everything Emma had always wanted, but… Mason was not living with her.
A sudden rush of cheer filled Emma’s chest.
Emma put on the Christmas music she used to listen to with her mom when they would wrap presents together.
She’d not been able to listen to it the last few years.
Since her mom’s passing and then Mason’s dismissal, she’d only driven home for Christmas day to be with her father and brother, then returned to Columbus posthaste.
Nothing was the same without her mother.
Bittersweet memories played in her head on the way home and she thought for the first time that it might have been hard on her dad and brother to go through the holidays with both her and her mom absent.
She would do better this year and make it a holiday to remember.
Once she accepted her new position, she’d have to get out and do some holiday shopping. There were still a couple weeks to go.
The house was empty when she arrived, so she kept her music going as she moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables for roasting, boiling potatoes for mashing, and marinating salmon for baking.
She was a glass into the Pinot Grigio and belting out “Winter Wonderland” when Mason appeared. He had a computer bag slung over his shoulder and wore glasses with ebony frames slightly darker than his thick, wavy hair. He had the college professor look down, and he was hot.
Her mouth fell open. She must appear like the awkward kid she’d been when she’d made cookies for Mason under the guise of baking them for all of her brother’s friends who had been throwing around a football in the backyard.
Then, she’d not beat the sugar and eggs together well enough and accidentally gotten sugar-free chocolate chips. Her attempt had fallen flat, and not only did the cookies look like squashed, overcooked, bubbly pancake batter, but they tasted awful.
Mason had said, “I’ll help you next time, Em.” And he’d eaten them anyway while the rest of the boys had snuck their cookies into the waste bin.
He had helped her the next time. And treated her as the kid sister he didn’t have. She’d learned two things that day: her infatuation with him was hopeless and that when you screw up a recipe, adjust and don’t give up.
As a result, she had perfected this salmon recipe.
“Well, this is a beautiful sight,” he said. His eyes rested on her with the tray of salmon in her hands.
“I remembered how much you like salmon.”
They sat down to eat, and again, the conversation flowed.
She learned about the classes he was teaching, that his parents had moved to Tampa and that his Hyundai, Old Reliable, was making weird noises and needed to go into the shop.
Nostalgia needled at her as she remembered all the days she’d watched out the window, waiting for a glimpse of the champagne-colored, beat-up car he’d mowed countless lawns to purchase.
Mason’s dedication had always amazed her.
“What happened with you and Kaylee?” After seeing her today, Emma finally had the courage to ask.
“Oh, that was over a long time ago.” Mason shrugged his shoulders. “She’s married now to John Wall.”
“No kidding.” She was stuck on the part where he said they’d ended a long time ago.
“Yeah, they’re pretty happy.”
She wanted to ask if he was seeing anyone else, but that seemed a bit too far for the peace they’d recently brokered. She didn’t want to fuck it up.
They’d finished and cleaned up, but she wasn’t ready to go back to her room and dive into her book. She was enjoying herself.
“Want to watch a movie?”
“Hell yeah,” he said. “Die Hard?”
She’d watched it so many years with Mason and her brother that she knew it by heart. Even if she’d rather watch something new, there was comfort in it.
“Perfect.”
“I don’t have class tomorrow, and we’re supposed to get four to five inches tonight.”
“Well, that explains the grocery store,” she said.
“Was everyone rushing out for bread and milk?” His laugh was smooth and a balm to her soul.
“I think it was the whole county.”
With everything else going on, she’d not looked at the weather, but with that in mind, a night inside curled up on the sofa, watching a movie, sounded like a perfect idea.
“You want to get it set up? I’m going to put on pajamas,” she said.
“Sure.”
Emma hurried to pull on an old t-shirt and cozy shorts, then brushed her teeth and fastened her hair into a messy bun. When she came back into the room, not only did Mason have the movie ready, but he had also changed.
Mason unfolded the large blanket that was kept in a basket by the sofa and then settled in. She should have thought to put on pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt, but she’d been flushed from the conversation and the wine. Now, she shivered as they made it through the opening scene.
He tossed the end of the blanket toward her. “Here. I’ll share.”
She pursed her lips, wondering if she could handle being so close to him.
Sensing her hesitation, he said, “I’ll be on good behavior.”
She swallowed hard. Emma wasn’t certain she could match his resolve.
Under the soft velour, she began to thaw, but her side was still cold because the edge of the blanket didn’t wrap around one arm or her legs. She scooted across the cushion so that they could both enjoy the warmth without her pulling it from him.
Unfettered excitement built in her chest. The last time they’d been this near on the sofa, she’d experienced heaven. Suddenly, she wasn’t paying attention to the movie or the way her heart had felt when he’d abandoned her that night long ago.
He smelled of bergamot and pine and pepper and perfection—Polo.
For her, breathing became labored. And she could swear he was focusing too hard on the movie, his breath too even and measured as if he were fighting the same urges she was.
Her hand slid over and took his. A soft sigh escaped from his throat as he accepted her fingers and cradled them as one would an heirloom crystal glass, carefully and steadily.
She struggled to control her heart, which pounded thump, thump, thump, louder than the base on the speakers.
She struggled to reign in the warmth that radiated from her core.
She struggled to pay attention to anything but Mason’s thumb, which was making gentle caressing circles on the pulse point of her wrist. To hell with it, she wanted to lose control and the struggle.
Turning into him, she trailed her hand up and down his leg, feeling the length of tight muscle that he meticulously maintained.
His breath hitched, and there was no doubt he was holding back as well.
On her next swipe up, she continued all the way to his penis, where his pajama pants had tented.
He was hard, and he moaned as she trailed her fingers from the base to tip.
“Em,” he pleaded. “I don’t want to mess things up again.”
“Then don’t,” she responded as she rose and swung her leg over his to straddle him. When she glanced down, he was staring at her with an intense hunger in his dilated eyes. She understood. He wanted her. Wanted her as much as she needed him.
This time, she wouldn’t expect him to stay.
She wouldn’t expect more than one night.
She wouldn’t expect him to change for her.
She was a grown woman. She could handle the heartache, but she couldn’t handle regrets.
And she knew if she didn’t take advantage of this situation, she would have major regrets.
Her head dropped, and she took his mouth with hers. His lips parted, and as her tongue entered his mouth, his hands slid higher and gripped onto her hips, holding her gently, but also strong enough that it seemed as if he were saying, “Don’t leave me.”
As her tongue dueled with his, desire exploded in every part of her body. It was as if there was no past between them, no future they had to plan. There was only right here and now and their need.
When she drew back, his eyes bore into hers as if she were the sun, lighting his universe and keeping him rotating. The thought of how much he desired her made her heady with the power of it.
“Are you sure you want this?” he questioned. His tenor was as strained and as stretched as the flannel covering his penis.
“Yes. I want this. I want you.” Her voice was husky and unrecognizable.