Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Rebecca was just about ready when the doorbell rang.
Spritzing on her favorite perfume she twirled once in front of her mirror, making sure she looked as good as possible.
She loved the way the short, black skirt flared and fluttered with her movements.
Black stockings and black four inch heels helped her look taller and that was always a good thing as far as she was concerned.
The ivory silk blouse felt wonderful against her skin and shimmered in the light.
A gold metal belt accentuated her slim waist. Tendrils of soft blond curls artfully escaped her upswept hair at her temples and nape.
Green eye shadow, pink lip gloss, and a soft blush gave a glow to her delicate features and brought out the green in her eyes.
A gold locket dangled from her neck, drawing attention to the low cut blouse and hinting at the curves below.
Delicate diamond studs sparkled on her ears.
Pleased with her efforts she grabbed her short black jacket and hurried to the front door.
Last night Mason had finally treated her like a woman and she wasn’t about to let him forget it.
Mason’s heart skipped several beats when she opened the door. Standing there in his leather boots, faded jeans and blue checked flannel shirt he realized they had gotten their wires crossed.
Rebecca couldn’t help being affected by the sheer masculine presence of the man.
Long legs encased in tight fitting jeans, still damp hair and broad shoulders that blocked the sky.
Even his aftershave was intoxicating. Towering almost a foot over her despite her heels he took her breath away.
Reaching quickly for her hand Mason started toward the blue pickup truck at the curb.
“Let’s go,” he said.
She closed the door and followed. Halfway to the truck the difference in their clothes suddenly registered and digging in her heels she managed to bring him to a stop.
“Look, maybe I misunderstood, but I thought you were taking me out to dinner?”
Grinning down at her stubborn expression he slid an arm around her waist and continued propelling her on, opening the truck door and just about lifting her onto the seat.
Realizing this had the makings of a king-sized argument; Mason quickly buckled her seat belt and hurried to the driver’s side, buckling his belt into place before answering.
“Actually, I said I was taking you to get something to eat,” he finally responded, starting the powerful engine and pulling away from the curb, his eyes twinkling and wonderful little lines appearing at the corners.
“I haven’t been shopping in some time but I still think you’re a little overdressed,” he continued, openly showing his amusement now.
“Shopping?’ she asked, her mouth dropping open incredulously. “Grocery shopping?”
“That’s what I had in mind.”
“Turn this truck around and take me home right now,” she demanded hotly. “I can do my own grocery shopping and I think it was damn sneaky of you not to make it clear what you meant.”
“Not a chance,” he responded not in the least intimated by her temper. “Clearly, it has to be done.”
Crossing her arms over her chest to glare at him, Rebecca continued. “I don’t need your help. I was going shopping tomorrow anyway so just butt out and take me home.”
Still being incredibly reasonable he answered.
“If you’re shopping tomorrow anyway it won’t matter if it gets done tonight.
You’ll have time to get some rest. Or here’s an idea, maybe you could actually open your Economics book, and since you assumed we were going out you obviously have no other plans for the evening. End of discussion.”
‘It is not the ‘end of discussion’. We’ll look like a couple of fools.”
“Since when have you been averse to making a fool out of yourself, or me?” he laughed back at her as he pulled into the parking lot of the Super Duper.
Slouching in her seat she began to see just how serious he was as he got out of the truck and came around to her side. Opening the door he waited to help her out.
“I will not go in that store wearing this short skirt, and these spike heels,” she ground out between clenched teeth.
“Yes, you will”, he stated, completely unconcerned with her temper.
‘You can walk in under your own power, or you can be carried in over my shoulder, although I’m not sure the bag boys could handle it.
That skirt is pretty short.” Reaching in, he slid one arm under her legs, the other behind her back and very efficiently removed her from the truck, setting her gently on her feet.
He closed the door and hit the button for the locks and alarm, waiting for her to make up her mind.
For a moment she contemplated giving him a good kick in the shin, but as if he read the thought in her eyes he grasped her and a proceeded to steer her across the parking lot.
“You, Mason Kord,” she told him, plastering a tight lipped smile on her face, “Are an overbearing son of a bit…”
“Ah, Ah, Ah,” he said grinning. ‘Watch out or we’ll make the soap aisle our first stop.”
“In your dreams,” she shot back and stomped into the store, totaling ignoring the people who stared in amusement at the tall dark man in cowboy boots and the tiny blonde who looked like she just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine.
A silent war raged through the aisles of the Super Duper that night.
She pushed the cart and dropped in Twinkies, cheese twists and soda, daring him with her eyes to say one thing, just one thing.
He put in fresh fruits and vegetables. She chose frozen pizza; he lean chicken and fish fillets.
Up and down the aisles they went, grabbing the strangest combination of healthy and junk food the cashier had ever seen.
They had a short lived battle in the last aisle when she nonchalantly dropped in a carton of cigarettes and he deftly removed it placing it on the top shelf beyond her reach.
Knuckles white as her hands gripped the cart, ready to turn and run him over, she was caught off guard as his hands closed over hers from behind and he pulled the cart close to her, effectively pinning her between the cart and his strong body.
She could feel the heat of him and as he bent to whisper in her ear, her legs went suddenly weak.
‘Keep it up and I swear to God I’ll put you in this cart, just like that little girl,” he growled not quite quietly enough.
Lifting her head, she smiled weakly at the father and daughter coming down the aisle from the other direction.
“Is that pretty lady in trouble, Daddy?’ the toddler innocently asked her father.
“Sounds like it doesn’t it honey”, he answered, and his eyes smiling as he nodded to Mason and Rebecca as they passed.
“All right,” she hissed at him proceeding on and at the last moment snatching a six pack of beer.
“Thank you,” Mason smiled cockily as he removed it from the cart,” but that’s not my brand,” and replaced it with his choice.
Ready to explode she turned and almost shouted. “I don’t give a …,” but seeing him nod to someone behind her she found herself swallowing her words and also nodding to the elderly couple.
She made him pay, smiling helplessly as she lifted her empty hands, no purse. Leading the way out of the store she left him to handle the heavy bags. The added height from her heels enabled her to climb into the truck on her own while he loaded the bags in the back.
“There, that wasn’t so bad,” he remarked when he finished and climbed in beside her.
Rebecca didn’t answer, just raised one eyebrow and kept her mouth shut.
Mason started the truck and headed out of the parking lot, figuring even though she was mad, she’d get over it soon enough. If not, he’d help her.
As soon as they came to a stop in front of her house she bolted from the truck and stalked away without him. Not even offering to carry a bag she dug her extra key out of the planter and let herself in.
Proceeding to her bedroom she stripped off her good clothes and jewelry and threw on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt.
Taking her hair down she gave it a quick brushing then wiped off most of her makeup.
She could hear Mason in the kitchen, obviously not trusting her to even put the things away, and he was humming.
That sound was the last straw. As far as she was concerned he could take his cheerful self right the hell out of her house and she intended to tell him so.
Entering the kitchen she was momentarily caught off guard. He looked so out of place in her tiny kitchen, putting things away, lining up canned goods neatly in the cupboard, discarding anything he thought questionable, that she smiled despite herself.
“Well, aren’t you the little homemaker,” she taunted, leaning against the doorway, bare feet crossed with absolutely no desire to help him.
“Did you want to keep this?” he inquired innocently, dangling a hairy green object in a little baggie at her. “It’s been here so long I thought you might have some sort of strange attachment to it.”
“That’s it,” she yelled, storming across to the table and grabbing a large grapefruit. “One more word and you and this grapefruit are going to become very well acquainted,” she continued pointedly, brandishing it like a weapon.
He laughed aloud at that, the rich sound rumbling from deep in his chest. She looked absolutely adorable standing there in her jeans, hair pulled back into a pony tail, threatening him with a grapefruit. Adorable until it sailed past his right ear and smacked into the cupboard.
“Hey, watch that,” he yelled. “Boy some people just can’t see the humor in a situation,” he grumbled to no one in particular and returned to storing away the food.
Waiting patiently until he had the kitchen neat as a pin, after all this was his idea, she then took his hand and led him to the front door.
“Good night Mason.”
“Sorry sweetie,” he replied. “The evening isn’t quite over yet. We need to get a couple of things straight between us.”