Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Mason awoke to singing. Rebecca was in the shower apparently belting out any and every tune that struck her fancy.
‘Amazing Grace’ was somehow prophetic he thought.
After the way she had behaved last night she probably needed more than a few hymns to save her.
His eyes traveled around the room he knew as well as he knew his own.
This had been her father’s room and Mason had spent quite a bit of time in here when Jake’s health had started going downhill so quickly.
The heavy masculine furniture was softened by the feminine touches Rebecca had added.
A photo caught his attention and he stared at the images of Rebecca and her father.
The guilt that gripped him stunned him. He’d acted like a teenager with raging hormones, unable to control his urges and her father’s eyes seemed to accuse him from across the room.
Don’t worry Jake he promised silently. I’ll do the right thing by her… even if it kills us both.
Rebecca toweled her hair and started to apply her make up.
While Mason was consumed with guilt, she on the other hand, felt wonderful.
Last night was more exciting than she’d ever imagined.
Mason had been incredibly tender and extraordinarily male.
Every touch and caress had turned her bones to jelly and she couldn’t believe they’d wasted so much time getting around to the good stuff.
After fluffing her hair she slid on her skimpy satin rode and headed back to the bedroom.
Thinking Mason asleep she discarded the robe and climbed in next to him cuddling up and inhaling deeply of his masculine scent
Mason opened his eyes and drew her tighter to him.
The feel of her cool flesh, her breasts pressed against his chest inflamed him so quickly.
He knew he had to put some distance between them if he wanted to have any type of reasonable conversation.
Removing his arms from around her they faced each other, blue eyes gazing into green.
She traced his lips with a fingertip smiling.
“Thank you, Mason,” she whispered softly.
“For what honey?” he asked, surprised.
“For last night,” she replied with a slight blush.
Taking a deep breath Mason answered her carefully.
“Rebecca, last night I was wrong.”
“Wrong? How could anything so beautiful be wrong?” she questioned. Her heart seemed to stop beating. Was he sorry? Maybe he hadn’t enjoyed it as she had. Maybe she’d been so caught up in her own passionate response she hadn’t noticed he’d only been performing.
Turning from him she quickly got out of bed, slipping on her robe again. Walking to the dresser she began to vigorously brush her hair.
“Well don’t worry about our little mistake, Mason,” she told him peering into the mirror. “You can go. I won’t hold a gun to your head.”
Mason couldn’t believe his ears. The little twit was dismissing him, just as if she’d paid for his services and the time was up. Anger choked him.
“That isn’t what I meant and you damn well know it. Get back in this bed before I come and put you in it. We have some things that need to be settled,” he told her firmly, trying to control his temper.
“What Mason?” she asked sarcastically, turning the brush over and over in her hands. “If last night was some type of favor, thanks but no thanks.”
“Just five minutes with that hairbrush, and I could give you a brand new attitude,” he growled warningly, getting out of bed and stalking towards her, gloriously naked. Snatching the brush out of her hand he looked at it appraisingly as if testing its strength and weight.
Rebecca slid her hands behind her unconsciously as if that would protect her bottom. She let a small sigh of relief escape when Mason finally tossed the hairbrush across the room and faced her, hands on hips and slightly bent to look directly into her eyes.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he stated again, hoping she’d be reasonable before his itching hand got the better of him.
“Okay, you’re sorry. I’m not. I personally thought it was great, but if I don’t come up to your standards…” she shrugged, spinning away to hide the tears in her eyes.
Mason straightened and ran a hand through his hair in agitation.
“Look, what I’m trying to say is that we shouldn’t have made love so soon in our relationship,” he explained as gently as he could with a clenched jaw.
“Soon,” she responded stunned. “Mason I’ve known you most of my life.”
“Yes, but not on this level, as a man and woman.”
“Did you suddenly become a man, because I’ve been a woman for quite some time?”
Turning he began to pace, trying to find a way to express himself without infuriating her further.
“What I’m trying to say Rebecca is that I thought…maybe someday…after we were sure it was right…Hell, I hoped we’d get married if things worked out. Now I guess we’d better do it right away.”
“Married…..” Rebecca sank against the dresser in total shock, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“You think because we made love last night we should get married? Mason this isn’t the dark ages,” she drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
“People don’t marry everyone they sleep with.
” Rebecca’s mind was working overtime trying to figure out what was wrong with him until a horrible thought suddenly occurred to her.
“Is this to assuage some form of guilt…because if it is you’d better know right now I’m not into human sacrifices, especially mine? ”
Mason had stopped pacing, the flame in his eyes was nothing compared to what raged in his heart. He was at her side in seconds, his large hands clamped firmly around her upper arms and pulled her to her toes.
“First of all I refuse to be just someone you slept with,” he all but shouted, hanging on to his temper by a gossamer thread. “And secondly, did it ever occur to you that we didn’t use any protection last night…that you could be pregnant?”
Fear tightened Rebecca’s stomach but she wouldn’t back down, even in the face of his anger.
“Women have been having babies since the beginning of time Mace, some of them even manage to do it without a man,” she shouted back. “If you think for one minute…”
“Not my baby,” he shot at her before she could continue.
“I grew up without a father, and if it hadn’t been for yours, and Sean O’Malley, I wouldn’t have known what one was.
My child will never have to worry about that even if I have to paddle his mother’s behind all the way to the JP,” he finished with a shake that sent her curls dancing.
Trying to get herself together she took several calming breaths and twisted out of his arms.
“Mason, has it escaped your attention that I seduced you last night. I planned the whole damn thing right down to the bottle of wine in the fridge, which by the way, I’m going to drink as soon as this conversation is over. I wanted you Mason,” she went on softly, “and I’m not ashamed of it.”
Mason stood there silently as she left the room closing the door quietly behind her. And just what could he say to that?
* * *
Two days later Mason received a check in the mail for $237.
23. He sat behind his desk examining it as if it held the answer to his problems. He’d forgotten about the groceries, but she obviously hadn’t.
After checking the envelope for the third time just to make sure he hadn’t missed a note he tossed it aside in disgust.
A knock at the door brought him back and he crumpled the check and flung it into the trash.
“Come in,” he called.
Maggie Cassidy entered, removing her hard hat and flopping onto the chair across from him.
“For someone whose company just got the bid on the new shopping mall, you don’t look very happy,” she observed.
Covered in dust Maggie was still one hell of a good looking woman. The auburn haired beauty let her eyes travel over him, noting the slump of his shoulders and fatigue in his face.
“Not feeling well, boss man?”
Maggie had been his chief foreman for three years and she was damn good at it.
Although many new employees gave her a hard time at first, they soon came to appreciate her expertise in the field and depend on her judgment.
She prided herself on the fact there hadn’t been a serious injury on her watch.
“I’m okay,” he told her, running a hand through his hair, “just tired. And I am pleased about the new contract, but money isn’t everything.”
“Ha,” she laughed, her eyes twinkling. “That’s easy for you to say. Try footing the grocery bill for my crew and you’ll soon be singing another song.”
Immediately guilt assailed him. Maggie’s husband Jim had been killed last year in an auto accident.
He knew it had to be tough supporting three kids on her own but she never complained, just buried her grief and went on.
She was one special lady to him and he’d just about grown up with her family.
He made the standard offer, knowing she wouldn’t accept. She never did.
“Is there anything I can do to help? If you need anything, an advance or anything at all, just tell Marsha I okayed it.”
“Thanks Mason, I appreciate the offer, but we’re doing okay. I stopped in to find out what you wanted to do about the Logan site. Warfield’s can’t get there today with the concrete. Did you want me to contact the competition, or wait it out with them?
“They’ve always been right on schedule with us before,” he answered. ‘Give them two days to fix the problem and have a crew start up on the Hastings road site; if we have to we’ll go into some overtime.”
“No problem there,” she grinned as she rose to leave. “The men do love that time and a half.”
“What about you, Maggie?” he asked. “Is the overtime a hardship with the kids?”
Maggie sighed, letting her guard down for a moment. Her whole demeanor changed when she talked about her kids, the softer side shining through.
“No, Jason’s old enough now to watch the other two and my Mom checks in with him. To tell you the truth, the more tired I am when I get to bed, the better I like it.”
Understanding flowed between them and he nodded as she put her hat on and went back to work.
Maybe that’s what I need he thought. A little extra physical activity might help.
Over the last couple of years he’d become almost completely desk bound as the company grew.
With Maggie running things in the field he didn’t have to worry about that aspect and only made occasional site checks unless there was a problem.
Getting up he strode across the room and opening the closet got out his hardhat and steel toed boots.
A little while later he was unloading concrete blocks.
Maggie never said a word, she just smiled knowingly.
* * *
Rebecca pushed the hair out of her eyes for the third time and concentrated on getting the little black felt hat together. Everyone’s pilgrim was finished but hers and she was the teacher. Embarrassed she tried again and proceeded to prick her finger painfully.
Sara, standing behind her, laughed and bent down to whisper in her ear as Rebecca tried to wipe the little drop of blood off the pilgrim dolls vest.
“Leave it. Pretend the Indians got him,” Sara continued, clasping a hand to her chest and staggering backward dramatically.
“Very funny,” Rebecca responded, tossing the little man down on the work table in disgust.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately,” she sighed dejectedly, elbows propped on the table supporting her chin. “Normally I’m good at this sort of thing but for some reason I can’t get him,” she pointed at the little doll accusingly, “to cooperate.”
“Probably because he isn’t the man on your mind,” Sara returned grinning cheekily.
“Who says I’ve got a man on my mind?” Rebecca demanded.
“Look sweetie, we’ve known each other since grade school.
I was around when the delectable Mason entered your life.
Besides being consumed with jealousy,” she continued, dropping into a chair and crossing her legs gracefully, “and waiting patiently for him to notice me, your loyal, gorgeous friend, I learned to read you like a book. You’re hooked. Big time.”
“Booked?” Mary Havens questioned loudly, causing the others to stop what they were doing and look up in surprise.
“Who’s doing time? Have you gone and gotten yourself arrested? I told you not to park in that No Parking Zone Rebecca,” Mary continued, deep concern etched in her face. “Oh, dear me.”
Mary pushed her glasses up farther on her nose, something she unconsciously did whenever she had difficulty hearing, as if that would improve it.
“Bookie?” Harry chortled, “I had a bookie once, fine fellow, made me a lot of money too. Don’t know if he’s still around, but I can give you his number.”
Rebecca couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of the conversation. Hugging Mary, whose hearing was fast becoming a real problem for her, she spoke loudly enough for all her seniors to hear.
“No, I’m not getting arrested and I don’t need a bookie. It’s just a misunderstanding,” Rebecca informed them drawing out the words slowly.
“Huh? Standing? Here take my chair,” Harry offered, rising stiffly on his arthritic legs.
Smiling helplessly, Rebecca patted Harry on his thin shoulder gently.
“No Harry, I don’t need your chair. I have some paperwork to do in my office. Sara will help you now.”
“Well if you need any help you just let old Harry know,” he said patting his thin chest. “I still have some friends left in this town my girl.”
“I surely will Harry. You can count on it,” Rebecca choked out. Hurrying to her office she had a mental image of Harry brandishing his cane at Mason. Shaking her head she closed the door and burst out laughing.