4. Mason
CHAPTER FOUR
Mason
Aurora Bennett looked like she wanted to set the whole damn town on fire.
It was the first thing I noticed when I stepped into The Brewed Bean Café. She sat in a booth by the window, stabbing at a plate of fries like they’d personally wronged her.
I grinned.
Poor thing. Medford must have been really doing a number on her.
Might as well make things interesting.
I slid into the seat across from her without hesitation. “You know, if you stab them hard enough, they might fight back.”
Aurora’s head snapped up, green eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
I plucked a fry off her plate and popped it into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Not bad. Could use more salt.”
She blinked, clearly trying to process the audacity of me stealing her food. “Did I invite you to sit here?”
“Nope.” I stole another fry. “Didn’t think you’d mind, though. You looked lonely.”
Her lips parted like she was about to unleash hell on me, but instead, she sighed and tossed a fry back onto her plate. “Of course. Another Grady.”
I pressed a hand to my chest, feigning deep offense. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”
She arched a brow. “Still deciding.”
Damn, she was fun.
Before I could come up with another quip, Samantha, the waitress, stopped by, giving me a knowing look.
“Mason, she doesn’t look like she wants company.”
“Nonsense, Samantha. We’re bonding.”
Aurora snorted. “Is that what this is?”
“Absolutely.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “So tell me, what's got you stabbing innocent potatoes today?”
She exhaled, eyes flicking toward the window. “Nothing. Just this town.”
“Ah.” I nodded sagely. “Medford getting under your skin already?”
“That obvious?”
“You look five seconds away from committing a crime.”
“Give it time.”
I chuckled, then gestured for Samantha to bring me a coffee. “So, what's the verdict? You staying or running for the hills?”
Aurora hesitated, her fingers tapping against the tabletop. “I don’t know yet.”
Her voice lacked the usual sharp, guarded edge. She just sounded tired.
And that, more than anything, made me stop fooling around.
I leaned back, studying her. “It’s not all bad, you know.”
She met my gaze, skeptical. “You're just saying that because you grew up here.”
“Well, yeah. But also because it’s true.” I flashed her a grin. “Besides, now you’ve met me. Which, let’s be honest, is a huge point in Medford’s favor.”
Aurora rolled her eyes, but there was the smallest twitch at the corner of her lips.
There it was.
That was the thing about me—people didn’t stay mad when I was around.
I didn’t let them. Because life was too short to sit around brooding, and from the looks of it, Aurora had been brooding for a long time.
“You really think you're that charming, huh?” she asked, tilting her head.
I winked. “I don’t think. I know.”
She shook her head and grabbed another fry. “Unbelievable.”
But she wasn’t stabbing them anymore.
Progress.
Aurora was still looking at me like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to roll her eyes or throw her coffee in my face.
I flashed her my most winning grin. “Tell you what, city girl, how about I buy you a drink? You can spend the whole time insulting me if you want. I won’t even complain.”
She snorted. “Tempting, but I don’t do pity drinks.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’d never ask for your pity. Just your company.” I rested my chin on my hand, watching her with amusement. “Besides, you look like you could use a drink.”
She exhaled, drumming her fingers against the table. She wanted to say no. I could see it in the way her jaw tightened, in the way she weighed the pros and cons like she was debating a major life decision.
Finally, she let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. One drink.”
I grinned. “That's the spirit.”
She pointed a fry at me. “But if you get on my nerves, I’m leaving.”
I held up my hands. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Lucky’s Bar was packed for a Thursday night, but we managed to find a booth near the back.
Aurora had that wary look again, like she wasn’t sure what she was doing here, but I could already tell she was more relaxed than she’d been at the diner.
“Pick your poison,” I said, sliding the drink menu toward her.
She glanced at it briefly before handing it back. “Whiskey. Neat.”
I raised a brow. “Damn. No-nonsense. I like it.”
She smirked. “Did you think I was going to order a cosmo?”
“I don’t know, Aurora,” I teased, drawing out her name. “You seem like the kind of woman who is full of surprises.”
She shook her head, but she didn’t deny it.
When the drinks arrived, we settled into easy conversation. Or as easy as it got when she was still side eyeing me like I was some kind of puzzle she hadn't decided if she wanted to solve.
She took a sip of her whiskey, her gaze thoughtful. “So tell me, Mason, do you flirt with everyone, or am I just special?”
I grinned. “Oh, you're special, babe.”
She huffed a laugh, but I caught the flicker of something behind her eyes, something almost pleased.
Interesting.
She leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. “This is your big sales pitch for Medford? Liquor and bad pickup lines?”
I shrugged. “It's a start.”
Aurora sighed, looking down at her drink. For a moment, I thought she was about to tell me to cut the act, that she wasn’t here to be entertained.
But instead, she surprised me.
“You ever feel like you're supposed to want something, but deep down, you don’t?”
I tilted my head, caught off guard. “That's vague.”
She exhaled sharply. “Forget it.”
“No, no, hold on.” I sat up, watching her. “You mean, like, expectations? Other people's, or yours?”
She hesitated. “Both, I guess.”
I nodded, letting that settle between us. “Yeah. I get that.”
She studied me like she wasn’t sure whether to believe me.
Then she took another sip, her eyes flicking toward the worn wooden bar and then to the scuffed floors.
“I used to write,” she said suddenly. “When I was younger.”
I raised a brow. “Yeah?”
She nodded, but there was a tightness to her posture now, like she already regretted saying anything. I waited, giving her space.
She exhaled, setting her glass down. “It doesn’t matter.”
Something about the way she said it made me think it did matter—more than she was willing to admit.
I didn’t push, though. Instead, I offered an easy grin and raised my glass.
“To doing what actually makes us happy, then. Whenever we figure out what the hell that is.”
Aurora watched me for a moment, then slowly clinked her glass against mine.
She didn’t say anything, but for the first time since she’d gotten here, she didn’t look like she was already planning her escape.
I’d take that as a win.
One drink turned into two. Then three.
Not enough to cloud my judgment, but enough to make everything a little looser, a little warmer.
Aurora, for all her sharp edges and stubborn resistance, was relaxing. Not fully, not completely—she still kept a part of herself locked up tight—but the way she leaned in just a little when she talked, the way her lips twitched when I said something ridiculous, the way she was still here instead of finding an excuse to leave.
Yeah, it was progress.
And I liked it. Maybe too much.
The bar had thinned out by the time she finally pushed her empty glass aside.
“Alright, Grady,” she murmured, tilting her head at me. “You win. Medford isn’t entirely awful.”
I grinned. “See? I knew you’d come around.”
She shook her head, but there was no bite to it. Just something else. Something softer.
Dangerous.
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice just enough to catch the way her breath hitched. “You having a good time, city girl?”
She licked her lips, and my eyes followed the movement.
“Don’t push it,” she muttered.
But she was looking at me differently now.
Like she was thinking about something she knew she shouldn’t. Like she was daring herself to go there.
And hell if I didn’t want to make that decision for her.
I pushed my chair back, standing. “C’mon.”
She blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?”
“I’m walking you back to the inn.” I offered my hand.
Aurora arched a brow. “You think I can’t walk myself?”
“Oh, I have no doubt you can.” I smirked. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”
She hesitated. But then, slowly, she slipped her hand into mine.
And just like that, I knew I was fucked.
The walk to The Medford Inn was quiet, the air crisp, our steps in sync against the pavement.
Aurora didn’t pull away.
Not when my fingers tightened slightly around hers. Not when I glanced down at her and she met my eyes without looking away.
It was a challenge. A question.
By the time we reached the inn, tension buzzed between us, thick enough to choke on.
She stopped at the door, turning to face me.
“Well,” she said, voice quieter now, “this is me.”
I nodded, stepping closer. “Yeah.”
Neither of us moved.
She swallowed, looking up at me, her green eyes unreadable.
I lifted a hand, brushing my knuckles against the side of her jaw, just the lightest touch.
“Tell me no,” I murmured.
She exhaled sharply. But she didn’t say it.
Instead, she fisted her hands in my jacket and pulled me down.
I caught her mouth with mine, groaning when she pressed against me, warm and wanting and done pretending she didn’t feel this too.
The door to the inn swung open behind us, and we barely made it inside before she was tugging me toward the stairs, our movements messy, impatient.
We didn’t stop until we reached her room.
Aurora fumbled with the key, swearing when it wouldn’t turn fast enough.
I chuckled against her neck, running my hands over her waist. “Need help?”
“Shut up,” she muttered, finally getting the door open.
The second it clicked shut behind us, I had her pinned against it, hands braced on either side of her head.
She stared up at me, breathing hard. “This is a terrible idea.”
I grinned. “The worst.”
Then I kissed her again, and we stopped pretending we cared.
Her lips were hot and demanding, her fingers threading through my hair, nails scraping along my scalp as she pulled me closer.
I pressed against her, molding her to me, groaning when she arched up, all heat and hunger, like she’d been fighting this as hard as I had.
I slid my hands down her body, finding the hem of her sweater and tugging it up, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over her head. It landed somewhere behind us, forgotten the second my hands found her skin.
She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.
“Goddamn,” I murmured, taking her in.
She was all smooth skin and toned curves, her body a contradiction of softness and strength. A black lace bra cupped her breasts, teasing more than it revealed, and I ran my thumbs just beneath the edge, eliciting a gasp from her.
She tilted her chin up, challenging. “You gonna stare all night?”
I grinned. “Tempting, babe.”
Then I hooked my fingers beneath the straps, sliding them down her arms, savoring the way she shuddered when the fabric dragged against her skin. When I unclasped it, tossing it aside, I didn’t give her time to feel exposed before my mouth was on her.
She gasped, her hands fisting in my hair as I trailed kisses down the curve of her neck, across her collarbone, then lower, taking my time as I teased her with lips and tongue, sucking just hard enough to leave a mark.
Her back arched, her breath coming faster. “Mason.”
“Hmm?” My mouth moved lower, down the plane of her stomach, my fingers making quick work of the button on her jeans.
She exhaled sharply, grabbing at my shoulders. “Bed. Now.”
I chuckled against her skin, but I didn’t argue.
In one swift motion, I lifted her into my arms, and her legs wrapped around my waist as I carried her across the room. The second her back hit the mattress, she was reaching for me, dragging me down on top of her, her thighs tightening around my hips.
I settled between them, grinding against her just enough to make her whimper, just enough to feel how ready she was.
I growled against her throat. “Tell me you want this.”
She fisted my shirt, eyes blazing. “If you make me beg, I will kill you.”
I chuckled darkly. “Noted.”
Then I kissed her again, deeper this time, slower, letting my hands roam, mapping every inch of her body with my fingers, my mouth.
I took my time.
I made her tremble.
And when I finally thrust into her, her head fell back against the pillows, her lips parting on a sharp gasp, her body arching up to take me deeper.
She was tight, hot, slick around me, and I had to grit my teeth, force myself to go slow, to let her adjust.
But she wasn’t having it.
Her nails raked down my back, her hips rolling up to meet mine, her breath coming in quick, uneven gasps.
“More,” she demanded.
And hell if I didn’t give it to her.
I gripped her hips and thrust harder, deeper, setting a rhythm that had both of us unraveling fast.
Her legs tightened around me, her hands clutching at my shoulders, her head tilting back as she moaned, the sound shooting straight through me.
I kissed her throat, her jaw, her lips, swallowing every sound, every gasp, every desperate little plea she didn’t even realize she was making.
She finally shattered beneath me, body tightening, back arching, my name tumbling from her lips. I followed right after, burying myself deep as I lost myself in her completely.
For a long moment, neither of us moved, our bodies tangled, our breaths uneven. Then I lifted my head, brushing my lips against her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.
She exhaled, her fingers trailing lazily down my back. “Told you this was a bad idea.”
I grinned against her skin. “Worst one yet.”
But neither of us moved.
Neither of us let go.