Chapter Seven
MASON
WELL, SHIT.
The reason for the pep in my step and the smile on my face is standing right in front of me. In my family’s kitchen. Looking just as fucking breathtaking as she did last night. Her moss-green eyes are lighter in the sunny kitchen than they were last night in the dark bar, and just as captivating.
Ain’t this just the luck of the draw?
But why is she in my kitchen?
I take a step backward and poke my head out of the doorway to look up and down the hall to see if anyone is within earshot and step back in.
She speaks first, “You’re Mason.” She breathes it like a whisper and a look akin to confused horror is on her face.
I nod my head, not sure if I should be insulted or not, my heart beating just a little faster, “And you are?” Please don’t be Gray or Tucker’s girlfriend. If I were twenty years younger, I would cross my fingers for luck.
She looks down like she’s embarrassed and my chest squeezes because I made her feel that way, not once did I ask her name last night, but she rallies quick and looks to the side before locking her gaze on the kitchen island between us.
Taking a soft breath, she says, “I’m Sloane. I already put all the breakfast food away, but I can make you something if you like.”
Is that shame in her eyes and on her cheeks?
My eyebrows pinch together for a second and I look down at the counter as I realize that she works in the house, then I remember that our last cook and all-around house cleaner for nearly twenty years retired earlier this year. Marley was upset because she thought of Opal like an aunt.
I can’t say that I’m not a bit relieved.
The last time a woman got between me and one of my brothers was a disaster, it didn’t matter that the woman was mostly to blame, Tucker and I fought in the front yard and our dad sprayed us with the hose.
We were soaking wet and bloody, and neither of us have forgotten.
Still frozen in place, I say, “You took Opal’s place.” I’m thinking out loud more than I’m expecting an answer from her but she pulls me out of my thoughts.
“Yes. Is there anything I can get you?” There is an edge in her voice and my eyes snap back to her, she still won’t look at me and that bothers me. I want to do whatever it takes to wipe the embarrassment off her face and replace it with the smile I saw all last night.
Taking a step to my left to go around the island, she takes a step to her left toward the back stairs, so I stop. Her cheeks are red, I know she’s embarrassed, but I’m not sure why, “I’m sorry if I said something wrong, I’m just a little surprised.”
Does she want me to leave her alone?
She smiles politely like she is talking to someone she just met instead of someone who was making her moan all night and takes a deep breath before she makes eye contact with me.
As she lifts her head and squares her shoulders, I see the love bite that I put on her neck, she tried to hide it with makeup.
Something carnal in me makes me almost smile in satisfaction for marking her as mine. I fight the smile and keep my lips in a straight line, I marked her in other ways than just a hickey last night. Many times.
“Of course not, you didn’t say anything wrong. If there isn’t anything I can do for you I have things to do upstairs.” She waits graciously and stoically for me to answer.
At a loss, I shake my head as I look over her features, the lips I kissed all night are pursed together and her eyes are tight. Resisting my curiosity, I say, “No, I’m good.”
With a slight nod, she turns on her heel and disappears up the stairs, her ponytail swinging over her shoulder and then back between her shoulder blades.
Stepping back into the hall, I look around again to see if I see anyone else and set my hands on my hips. What just happened? I think diddled the maid. Do I feel bad about it? No, I don’t. She’s beautiful and this just saves me from going back to the bar to see if I can find out who she is.
Since she snuck out on me while I was sleeping I never got her name. For the first time, I was disappointed when I woke up alone and decided I would go back to the bar every night to see if I see her again.
But I get the feeling she’s not happy to see me.
Since I woke up by myself, I’ve been wondering why she didn’t say anything. If she didn’t want to see me again, all she had to do was say, but I can’t say I wouldn’t have tried to change her mind. Who in their right mind wouldn’t?
My bags are still in my truck so I walk back out the front to get them. I was hoping to catch everyone still eating breakfast and surprise them, but the surprise is on me. Maybe I should go find her and talk to her. I turn and jog back up the porch steps.
Maybe that’s a bad idea. I stop on the top step and put my hands on my hips again, I don’t think she wants to talk to me. I turn around again and step down a step.
Should I try anyway?
Turning again, I step back up to the top step and move toward the front door, I stop again and turn to face my truck. Maybe I should give her a little time.
Damn it!
I don’t usually get flustered by women, but there is something about this one that is making me walk in fucking circles.
Literally. Just like last night when every guy that ogled her sent my anger into the red zone.
I don’t get angry, jealous, or flustered by women, I take care of business and move on.
Hoof steps from the side of the house pull me out of my indecision and I look up to see Gray on his favorite Appaloosa horse, aptly named Frost because of her coat.
“I thought I saw your truck. You missed breakfast.” His deep voice states the obvious. I swear he’s just like dad.
Walking back to the edge of the large wrap-around porch, I wait for him to get closer. “Yep, I did. I’ll grab something later after I get settled.”
He leans forward onto the horn of his saddle, “I thought you were going to be here later today or I would have told Sloane to leave some food out on the table.”
“Sloane?” The last thing I need is for Gray to be up my ass, so I play ignorant.
“Yeah, she took Opal’s place earlier this year. She’s great, a little shy, so be nice.”
Yeah, I saw that beautiful shyness all night long.
I cock my head to the side and close one eye like I don’t know what he means, “Whatever do you mean, brother? Why wouldn’t I be nice?”
He straightens his back and pulls on the reins to turn Frost around, “You know what I mean. She’s settled in and is doing a good job, not to mention Marley likes her. So, keep your hands to yourself.”
Fuck.
Since he is riding away, I assume the conversation is over. “Well, good to see you too, brother. Nice talk.” I lay my southern accent on thick to go with my sarcasm, but all I get is a two-finger wave over his shoulder before he disappears around the side of the house.
Like I said, just like Dad.
After getting all my stuff into my room, I go outside to see everybody, otherwise, I’ll have to wait for dinner to see them. I looked for Sloane as I walked to my room, but either she’s busy in another part of the house or hiding from me. I’m willing to bet she’s hiding.
Knowing she is so close is giving me a chub which makes me think of every time I watched her beautiful face as she came undone under me last night. Great, now I have a full-blown hard-on and all I want to do is go back to last night and bury myself in her again.
It’s best I get out of the house.
About an eighth of a mile west of the house are two training paddocks for Marley’s rehab horses and a small stable to the north of them. I don’t see her outside, so I walk to the stables and find her mucking out a stall.
Standing five-six at about a buck twenty-five to my six-two, two-twenty, she looks half my size, but she has no problem lifting bags of feed, bails of hay, or moving horse shit with the shovel.
Her back is to me and I chuckle to myself when I see that her flannel shirt is the same color as mine, our ability to frequently show up in similar colors has been a long-standing family joke.
Her long, blond hair is in a French braid down her back and is falling over her shoulder as she twists her body to scoop into the dumpcart.
As soon as my boots touch the wood floor, her head lifts to look over her shoulder, her eyes landing on me. When I called her the night I found out about Dad, she was so upset she could hardly speak to me and now her eyes are a little puffy. Next to me, Dad is her rock.
The pain in my heart balloons as she turns to me and her face crumbles, the pitchfork dropping to the ground. As we walk toward each other, her steps quicken until her arms are squeezing my ribcage like a vice. I hug her as she cries into my shirt, my chin sitting on top of her head.
“I’m happy you’re home,” She mumbles into my shirt, her m’s sound like b’s since her nose is stuffed up from crying.
I tighten my hold on her and say, “Me, too.”
She feels thin.
Since we were only eight years old when mom died, she was raised by our no-nonsense dad, our quietly broody older brother, Gray, and me. Our little sister, Kinley, and little brother, Tucker were just as sad and lost as she was. Our baby sister, Breanna, was just a newborn.
Marley was mom’s first little girl making them close, so losing dad is probably triggering her feelings of abandonment, that’s what the therapist called it when we were kids.
First, she lost Mom, and then she lost me when I was forced into the service, even though it ended up being the best thing I ever did.
Now she almost lost Dad.
I know better than to say pretty words to try and soothe her. Marley may look innocent with her big blue eyes and porcelain skin, but she is not one for sugarcoating things, so I just kiss her temple and wipe the tears from her cheeks.
Tilting her head to make her look at me, I ask, “You okay?” She knows I’m talking about her tendency to forget to eat when she’s sad, her frame feels bony and I don’t like that.
Rolling her eyes, because she knows what I’m talking about, she says, “Yeah, I ate some oatmeal with fruit at breakfast. Sloane thinks she’s being sneaky, but I can taste the vitamin powder she puts in it.”
Good, at least someone else is looking out for her health. For a second, my thoughts go back to those luscious lips pressed against mine last night before I push them away and focus on my sister.
Her eyes widen and she sucks in a breath, “Did you meet Sloane? She took Opal’s place, I just love her to death, she fits in just like one of us.”
Gray’s words echo in my head, “Marley likes her, so keep your hands to yourself.”
Clearing my throat and keeping a mask of indifference on my face, I say, “Yep, I met her briefly when I took my things in the house.”
A slight flush heats my cheeks as the lie slides so easily from my lips. I don’t lie to my sister. Sure, I tell half-truths and leave out info when talking about work, she knows I can’t talk about work, but this isn’t work. Outside of that, she knows me as well as I know her.
Her eyebrows slightly pinch as she looks over my face and I know she knows something’s up.
Quickly changing the subject, I ask, “Are you getting plenty of sleep?” It’s hard to tell if the purple moons under her eyes are from crying or lack of sleep.
The night of our high school prom, Marley was attacked and raped by one of the drunk guys we went to school with.
I walked in on it happening and beat the shit out of the guy, almost killed him, but she started having nightmares that kept her awake most of the night for a long time after, so I also worry about her getting plenty of sleep.
It’s not lost on me that losing Dad, her other source of strength besides me, would bring back the nightmares.
Knowing that I know her as well as I know myself, her pause confirms my suspicions, “I already called Dr. Cobble and had a phone session, she called in something to help me sleep.”
Good.
I smile and ask, “Do we need to get all the fixins’ for ice cream sundays?”
Marley’s kryptonite is ice cream with fudge, marshmallow cream, and nuts. Her lips tip up on each side and her eyes soften, “Don’t forget the whipped topping this time.”
“You got it, little sister.”
She huffs and rolls her eyes, “Only by minutes.”
Putting my arm across her shoulders, I laugh and say, “Oh, it counts.”