Chapter 4
T AYLOR EYED THE CLOCK on the back wall of Anchors hours later.
She’d been rushing around all night bringing drinks to tables, filling food orders, and collecting tips. Fortunately, the kitchen closed at midnight and last call had been fifteen minutes ago. She swiped a hand across her forehead, tucking her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.
Mason had texted that he was on his way, and she was rethinking letting him give her a lift.
They’d been casually flirting with each other for months, but now that he was giving her a ride, she was positive that he’d ask her out. For real this time—not just teasing her about it in front of the guys. And she wouldn’t have been opposed to that aside from Eric.
Ugh.
There was no way he’d be happy about her dating another man. Not that she and Mason were “dating.” But one date could lead to another, and she could never invite Mason over. Ever. Not when there was a chance of Eric showing up drunk again.
She shuddered.
Mason could certainly handle himself and wouldn’t likely have a problem telling Eric to leave, but what about when he wasn’t around?
Eric would be lurking in the shadows, furious. Livid that she’d moved on.
Insisting that she let him in so they could talk. Get back together.
“You okay?” one of the other waitresses, Amy, asked, raising her eyebrows as she watched Taylor.
“Yep. Just tired. It’s been a long night.”
Amy eyed her, clearly not believing a word. “Thanks, have a good night!” she called out, waving goodbye to a group of regulars. Taylor watched the group of guys leaving, one of them helping their buddy who’d clearly had a few too many.
“Give me your keys, man,” his friend ordered. “There’s no way in hell you’re driving like this.”
The guy slumped over, and his friend hauled him to his feet, easily pocketing his keys.
The door opened just as they were about to head out, and Taylor was surprised to see Mason coming in.
He nodded at her but leaned against the wall by the door, clearly intending to wait until she finished her shift and was ready to go.
The question was, should she head over to Bailey’s apartment like they’d discussed?
Or dare try her own?
Eric might still be passed out drunk on her sofa, but what if he’d woken up after a few hours? She wanted him out of there, not crashing at her place. She bit her lip, still undecided. He probably would’ve texted her to complain if he woke up and she was gone.
To her best friend’s house it was.
“That your ride?” Amy asked, nodding toward Mason. “He was in here earlier with his friends, right?”
“Yeah, that’s Mason. He’s stationed over at Little Creek, so he and his friends are in here a lot. You’ll start to recognize them, I’m sure. We always have a bunch of regulars that hang out here—men and women alike.”
“Are you guys dating?” Amy asked, clearing the empty plates and glasses from the table beside her. She pocketed the tip, looking relieved.
Taylor could relate. Most of the regular customers tipped well, but every once in a while, they’d be working the same table for hours and barely have anything to show for it.
“No, we’re not dating, but he offered to drive me home when he found out that I still don’t have my car. He’s asked me out—sort of. I’m just...taking my time....”
Her voice trailed off, and Mason waved as the two women looked over at him. Taylor blushed furiously, knowing that he’d realize they were talking about him.
Good grief.
She was a grown, twenty-seven-year-old woman. Why was she acting like a school girl with a crush on the captain of the football team?
He’d offered her a ride. He had her cell number. It wasn’t exactly a secret that she was interested in him. Or vice versa.
Something about Mason always made her stomach do flips though.
He was almost boyishly good looking, aside from the muscles on top of muscles that were clearly the result of his training as a Navy SEAL.
His broad shoulders and muscled chest gave way to a trim waistline.
His jeans hung slightly from his hips, leading down straight toward the promised land.
With his height, she had no doubt he had an impressive package.
Not that she planned to be getting up close and personal with that anytime soon.
She hurried, fumbling with the empty beer bottles she’d picked up in her haste. They clinked together, drawing the attention of the other wait staff cleaning up. The last few patrons began to exit Anchors, leaving mostly empty tables aside from a few stragglers at the bar.
“Hun, a guy like him could have anyone he wants,” Amy said. “Don’t take too much time,” she added with a wink.
“Yeah. I hear ya,” Taylor said, carrying her heavy tray stacked high with empty plates and beer bottles back toward the kitchen.
Finally, twenty minutes later, she was exiting the back of Anchors and walking toward Mason’s grinning face. “Sorry, I’m running late,” she said. “Closing always takes longer than expected. Some of the others on the kitchen staff will be here another hour doing clean up.”
“It’s no problem. I offered you a lift, so I don’t mind the wait.”
He held open the door, and then his large frame was following her outside.
A cool breeze blew in from the ocean, and she shivered slightly, running her hands over her bare arms. Her body electrified as Mason came to a stop beside her, and she could feel the heat radiating off his large, muscular frame.
She glanced up at him, her own head barely coming up to his shoulder. He towered over her, but she felt safe. Protected. When was the last time she’d come out of work at this hour and not looked around? Not watched for someone to jump out of the shadows?
Never, she thought wryly.
Although she always made sure to walk to the parking garage with the others, it felt good having Mason here beside her. Safe.
“Wow, look at that full moon tonight,” she said, pausing for a moment in awe as she glanced up at the sky.
She was at the beach nearly every day, but something about the moonlight reflecting off the dark ocean water was captivating.
She wished she had her camera with her. The scene before them would be an amazing photograph.
“It’s gorgeous,” Mason agreed, his voice husky. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand in his warm, muscular one. “Let’s go check it out for a few minutes before I drive you home.”
His thick fingers wove between hers, and heat surged through her as he guided her along. He confidently strode down toward the water, a mass of muscle and movement. This was a man used to running for miles, jumping out of airplanes, swimming in dark waters.
What must he think of her?
If he knew she was afraid to even leave her own apartment because of her ex, he’d probably be mystified. This was the type of man afraid of nothing.
“It’s cold out here,” she said, shivering slightly as they walked closer to the ocean.
Mason chuckled, tucking her under his arm and pulling her close. The weight of his arm wrapped around her shoulders made her imagine what it would be like to feel the weight of his muscular body moving over her. Making love to her.
He smelled clean, with just the faintest hint of spice. And he was all rippling muscles under that tanned, toned flesh. Pure male.
“Hell, sweetheart, I’ve free dived in freezing cold ocean water in the middle of winter. This feels pretty damn temperate in comparison.”
Taylor giggled, loving the feeling of Mason’s warm, solid body pressed against hers.
They paused at the railing of the boardwalk, taking in the stretch of sand and dark water before them.
Warm lamplight dotted the boardwalk all the way up and down the tourist strip of the beach for endless blocks, but the ocean in front of them was dark aside from the glow of the moonlight.
Waves crashed on the shore, lulling her into a sense of contentment, and then Mason was easing her in front of him, wrapping his arms completely around her.
She relaxed against him, his broad chest pressed against her back.
Her heart pounded at his closeness, her breath catching as he rested his chin atop her head.
She felt like they were a couple in that brief moment—Mason holding her in his arms. Keeping her warm. Shielding her from the world.
She always felt safe when he was around.
Fortunately, Eric had never come into Anchors looking for her when Mason was here, but Taylor had a feeling that if he had, Mason and his friends would’ve set him straight.
And there was a certain sense of security in that.
If only she could get him to quit showing up at her apartment.
Mason’s arms tightened ever-so-slightly around her, bringing her mind back to the present.
Wouldn’t she love to go out with Mason sometime, bring him back to her apartment, and explore that spectacular body of his.
Let him kiss and caress her as they made out on her sofa.
Get lost in those gorgeous blue eyes of his.
He always teased her at Anchors, casual and flirty, but she could sense the serious side of him as well.
He was committed to his job—to his career in the Navy. To life as a SEAL. Sure, he had fun with his buddies, but they were out risking their lives. Saving lives.
It was a lot different than her ex, who couldn’t even hold down a job for more than a month at a time.
She let out a wistful sigh.
“I wish it wasn’t so late,” Mason said, his lips moving against her hair.
“I know. Normally I don’t mind working these hours at Anchors, but I wish you and I were here earlier,” she said with a yawn. “I’m past the days where I want to stay up on the beach until dawn.”
She felt his smile against her head. “Me too. But we’ll come down here another evening. We’ll go to dinner, go walk down the boardwalk, the whole deal.”
“That’d be nice,” she agreed. “As long as we don’t eat at Anchors.”
Mason chuckled, his lips brushing against her hair. “But I love that place.”