Chapter 49
LILY
This.
This is what I’ve wanted—what I need.
His mouth crashes into mine like he’s been holding himself back for days instead of seconds. One hand slides into my hair, careful even now, while the other grips my waist hard enough to make heat spark low in my stomach.
A sound escapes me—small and wrecked—and Mason groans against my lips like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard.
“Fuck, pretty girl,” he murmurs against my mouth. “You have any idea what you do to me?”
I’m about to ask him to show me when I hear it.
Whirr-click.
I freeze, and Mason goes still against me.
We break apart and I turn my head to see Emma standing ten feet away, her camera raised, a knowing smile spreading across her face.
“Oh my God,” I murmur, heat flooding my cheeks.
Emma keeps shooting, changing the angle of her camera. “Don't mind me. Just capturing the moment.”
Mason's hand is still on my waist. I can feel the tension in his body—whether from being interrupted or being caught, I'm not sure.
“Emma.” His voice is low with warning.
“What?” Grinning, she lowers the camera, completely unrepentant. “You two looked beautiful. The light was perfect. I couldn't not take the shot.”
I should be mortified. I should step away from Mason, smooth down my shirt, pretend this didn't just happen.
But instead, I find myself laughing—a short, breathless sound that surprises even me.
It seems to give Mason permission to relax. The fierceness leaves his expression. He surveys me one more time, as if to make sure I’m okay, and then looks at Emma. “Shouldn’t you be taking pictures of your man?”
“Oh, I have.” She waves her hand as her grin turns naughty. Her expression softens when she looks at me. “I got a really good one, Lily. I’ll show it to you later.”
“What about me?” Mason asks, his eyes still on me.
“If you’re a good boy, I’ll even give you a copy.” Emma's smile turns teasing. She starts backing toward the barn, camera still in hand. “But fair warning—Jake's going to want to see this photo. And Luke. And probably Shadow.”
“Emma,” Mason says again, but there's no real heat in it.
Laughing, she waves over her shoulder as she disappears around the corner of the barn.
I look up at Mason, my heart still racing. “She just took our picture.”
“Yeah.” His mouth curves slightly. “She did.”
“That's going to be all over the ranch by dinner.”
Mason's thumb traces a small circle against my hip—a gesture so subtle I almost miss it. “Probably before dinner.”
I should care about that—about the exposure, the vulnerability, the fact that everyone will know. But standing here with Mason's hands still on my waist, his eyes dark and intent on mine, I don't care at all. For the first time since I escaped, being seen doesn’t feel dangerous.