Chapter 61
LILY
The last appointment wraps up before six. Mrs. Jenkins's golden retriever is good to go, and I walk them to the front desk. Handing off the paperwork to my receptionist, I turn to survey the waiting room.
Mason is still sitting in the same chair, looking like he hasn’t moved a muscle in hours.
Shadow stretches across the floor beside him like a furry sentinel.
The dog's head lifts when I appear, tail thumping once in acknowledgment before settling back down.
Mason doesn't move, but I feel his attention shift to me like a physical thing.
Mrs. Jenkins glances at him as she hurries past him. She turns away, then glances again. He's wearing a dark henley and jeans, his forearms crossed over his chest, his expression completely neutral. He looks like he could kill someone with his bare hands and not break a sweat.
He probably could.
“I’ll close up,” I tell my receptionist, knowing she has plans tonight and will be eager to leave. “Go ahead and head out.”
She doesn't need to be told twice. Within five minutes, the clinic is empty except for me, Mason, and Shadow.
I lean against the counter, trying to figure out what to do with the nervous energy coiling in my stomach. “I can’t believe you waited all day for me.”
“Not all day. Just a few hours.” He stands, Shadow rising with him in perfect synchronization. “You ready?”
I nod, but I'm not thinking about the drive to Blackthorn Ranch. I'm thinking about what comes after. About arriving at the ranch. About where I'll sleep.
The question sits heavy in my chest as I grab my bag and lock up behind us.
We decide to leave my truck here. Mason says he’ll bring me in to work tomorrow and stay with me all day.
I want to tell him he doesn’t need to, but it’s a relief to know he’ll be there.
We stop at my house, and after he does a sweep, I go upstairs to pack a bag.
It should be easy, but when I open my underwear drawer, I seize up.
Not like I have anything lacy or pretty anyway.
Reaching in, I just take a random handful and leave it at that.
Gathering my toiletries, I take a moment to email Wes to let him know what happened. Then I pack my laptop, and I’m good to go. I think.
On the way to Blackthorn, I stare out the window at the darkening Montana sky. Mason drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. Casual. Controlled. Obviously not thinking about my sleeping arrangements.
The thought keeps circling. There's the main house. Emma told me once that Luke has a suite downstairs past the kitchen and Mason has a cottage—the stablemaster's quarters, set back behind the barn. Private. Isolated.
If I stay with him, it’d be like living together. Am I ready for that? Would it be so bad? Living with him?
The question makes my chest tight. Because the answer is no, it wouldn't be bad. It would be terrifying and wonderful and everything I've spent thirteen years telling myself I didn't want.
Mason glances over at me. “You're staying with me,” he says as if he’s been listening to the silent debate in my head. “That okay?”
I should probably feel trapped by the certainty in his voice. Instead, I feel something that might be relief. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
His jaw tightens slightly, like he's holding back something. Then he reaches his hand out.
I take it, lacing my fingers between his.