Valentine’s Day sucked, pure and simple. It was a day for saps and die-hard romantics. Or at least that’s what Mason told himself. Commercialism at its finest. A day to spend hundreds of dollars to express one’s emotions with a gift or a dinner. No thanks.
He’d been working double-duty since Erica’s stabbing, because Zack had refused to leave her side. With him and Dane taking up the slack for the business, he didn’t have time to take a piss, much less anything else. That was the reason he gave himself for not seeking out Shonda to be sure she wasn’t suffering ill-effects from the attack late last week. For not mending the rift and buying her the token flowers for the holiday he loathed. Or so he convinced himself.
The truth was probably more along the lines of her relief when Tommy hugged her to him, as if he was there to protect her. From him! As if Mason would ever hurt her. Granted he’d probably looked like he felt, as if he wanted to rip Tommy’s arm from its socket. That he’d taken umbrage to another man touching her was to be expected. She’d been sleeping with him. She should have been loyal.
Mason sighed and stood, strolling to look out over the parking lot. Pretty scarce for this late in the day. It seemed all the saps and die-hards were still smarter than he was. At least when they played the romance game, they had someone to go home to at the end of the day. And wasn’t that the root of his problem? Shonda had made him care. Made him remember how fun it had been to be in love—when it was good, before the ugly end. Not that he loved her. No, he wasn’t ready to admit anything of the sort. But he did care.
Thinking about her home alone, without someone to make her day special, bothered him. The only thought bothering him more was the possibility she wasn’t alone. Maybe she’d taken Tommy up on the ready invitation he’d been silently offering in his office. Maybe someone like his cousin was simpler, less complicated and easier to love.
He snorted and rolled his eyes at the drivel clouding his brain. If he kept it up, he might as well trade in his man card. Screw that. Still, he should probably go check on her. Perhaps bring her some roses and gourmet chocolates to make up for his shitty mood the other day. The irony being that night in the parking lot, he’d been moody because Valentine’s Day had been fast approaching and he didn’t want to spend it with her. He didn’t want her getting the wrong impression. But now, he’d use it to grovel. He needed a decent night’s sleep and that only seemed to happen lately when he cuddled her close.
Fuuuccckkkkk! At least Zack and Dane didn’t need to know he was vacillating back and forth. He’d never hear the end of it.
Resolved to see Shonda, Mason shut down his computer and stepped out into the reception area. He was brought up short. Seeing Dane kicked back with feet up on a stool and magazine in hand surprised him.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you to come to your senses and go take that hot girlfriend of yours to dinner,” Dane replied with a shrug, not bothering to look up.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he snapped.
Dane pinned him with an indecipherable look, then went back to perusing his magazine.
“She’s not!” he insisted.
“Then it shouldn’t bother you that she’s preparing to go to dinner with Tommy tonight.”
A muscle started ticking in Mason’s jaw. The next words burst from him, “Over my dead body.”
As he rushed for the door, he heard his brother’s soft chuckle.
He spun on his heel and stormed back to the desk. “What?”
“I think you’re in denial, bro. Besides, Tommy’s over by the free weights on his first set of reps.”
Mason looked at the mirrored wall behind his brother to ascertain the truth of his words. Sure enough, Tommy was at the beginning of a workout. Tension eased from his shoulders, but the desire to punch his brother was strong.
“You’re a dickhead.”
“And you’re an asshat. We all have our crosses to bear.”
Mason rested his elbows against the counter and relaxed. “Why’d you lie?”
“It was only a half lie. Shonda is at home getting ready to go out,” Dane informed him.
He straightened back up and glared at Dane. “With who?”
“Me,” he grinned. “Or that’s what I told her. I played the woe-is-me card. She decided to take pity on me and keep me from wallowing over my lost love.”
“What lost love?”
Dane’s wicked grinned widened further.
“Wait, why are you still here if she’s expecting you?” Mason demanded. “Are you planning to stand her up?”
His brother half-cocked his head and shot him a look that said Mason was the dumbest fucker on the planet.
Mason scrubbed his face with his palms at his own stupidity. When his brain resumed its normal logical reasoning and he’d had his self-disgust firmly back on the shelf, he thanked Dane and hustled out to his car.
Shonda checked herself out in the full-length mirror of her bedroom. The red dress she’d purchased yesterday was smoking hot. Her mother had shown up and insisted on treating Shonda to a shopping spree. Eva had then pulled this gorgeous little number off the rack and passed it to her to try on. She had to admit, her mother had an impeccable eye for fashion. It came with the career choice.
A knock sounded at the front door. Shonda glanced at the alarm clock next to her bed. Dane was about twenty minutes early. Not that it mattered, she only had to slide on her four-inch red heels. She took a few precious seconds to do so. Might as well give him the full effect. Not that he’d notice or benefit from it. The poor guy had confessed to being broken-hearted over the loss of his girlfriend. But Eva had taught Shonda to always look her best.
A precautionary peek out the peephole showed her the back of his dark head. She knew it had to be him due to timing and height. No one seemed to be as tall as Dane and Mason. Not even their middle brother, Zack, who was shy by a few inches.
Shonda whipped open the door with a smile, which froze on her face as soon as Mason turned around. She should have known it was him. Her Spidey senses had fired off the minute she’d started toward the door.
“What are you doing here?” she asked coldly.
He didn’t answer. Instead those piercing peepers she loved so much started at her neck and swept down her body, pausing on all the good parts. The intensity he displayed stopped the oxygen flow to her lungs. When he got to her shoes, his panty-melting grin started slow and grew wider the longer he stared.
“Those are some great fucking shoes,” he said, voice hoarse with desire.
Immediately her lady parts flooded with answering want. How the hell did he do that?
“Th-thanks.” Oh, awesome. Now she was stuttering in his presence. Nothing said someone got to you like a good stutter. Clearing her throat, she tried for casual. “Where’s Dane?”
He placed a hand on either side of the door and leaned over the threshold. He studied her silently, seeming to come to some sort of decision. “Would you be upset if I said he wasn’t coming?”
“A little. I went through the trouble of getting dressed for dinner. The least he could have done was call.”
She whirled around to head into her kitchen, leaving him to stay or follow. She poured herself a glass of water and chugged half of it down. Mason in sweet, sexy mode made her throat parched.
The door clicked shut, and she gulped down the other half of her drink.
“Oh crap.” She heard him mutter.
The front door opened and closed again. Her heart thudded in her chest. Had she scared him off? Well, it was Mason. Perhaps he’d realized it was Valentine’s Day at the last minute and beat a hasty retreat.
She sighed, refilled her water, and slowly made her way to the living room. And promptly dropped her glass on the floor. Thankfully, it was on the rug, so the glass didn’t shatter. Unfortunately, she now had a soaking wet rug.
What had stunned her stupid was Mason standing in the middle of her living room with a bouquet of two dozen roses clutched in one hand and a Be My Valentine balloon in the other. Ah, the reason he delayed coming in. He’d been retrieving the presents. Knees weak, she sank down on her sofa. What the hell did he mean by all of this?
She shook her head in wonderment. Her mouth opened, but no words could be found. So instead of catching flies, she shut her trap. The hopeful light in Mason’s eyes dimmed, and he set the vase of flowers on her coffee table. He tied the string of the balloon to one of the protruding roses and offered her a bland smile.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Shonda.”
As he turned to go, it occurred to her that he thought her lack of response was a rejection. “Mason.” If her voice broke, it couldn’t be helped. He paused in his exit, but didn’t turn. “Don’t go.”
Without a word, he moved toward the front door again. Instead of leaving, he turned the lock. She ran to him and jumped his bones. Their mouths crashed and noses bumped in their eagerness. God, it had been too long since she’d last been touched by him. She loosened his tie and hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt. One arm wrapped around his dark head, her hand fisting in his thick hair. The other shoved aside the fabric and pinched the bud of his nipple.
His indrawn breath thrilled her. When his large hands had found their way under her dress and beyond the scrap of lace she called panties, she sighed in relief. This was what they did best, why she couldn’t quit him. He made her feel things no one else ever had, and probably never would again.
“I wanted to take you to dinner,” he murmured against her jaw.
When he traced the shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue, she shuddered. “Huh?”
“Dinner.”
He nipped her ear and trailed the length of her neck.
“I’m not particularly hungry right now, are you?”
“Ravenous.”
She arched back so she could see his expression.
“But not for food.”
A giggle bubbled up and she tightened her thighs.
“Uh, love, you might want to loosen up before you crush my internal organs.”
Full-fledge laughter erupted as she complied.
“Take me to bed, Mason.”
“Ah, the sound of the sweetest words I’ve ever heard.”
After two rounds of sex and a quick shower, Mason offered to take her for a late dinner.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to order a pizza and stay in. Unless you had your heart set on taking me out.”
“Nope, pizza works for me. But I’m definitely taking you out sometime soon. I’m going to insist on you wearing that dress, sans the panties.”
“I’ve never gone commando,” she confessed, sipping the wine he’d poured her.
The act of reaching for his phone was arrested mid-stretch. He looked back over his shoulder. “Never?”
“Never,” she confirmed, biting her lip.
“First you didn’t know what the Mile-High Club was, now you’ve never gone commando? Your sex education is sorely lacking. We’re going to need to fix that. Soon.”
Suddenly she didn’t feel like kidding anymore.
“Mason, before you order dinner, can we talk?”
“Why does the tone of your voice worry me?”
“Because I’m a fearsome woman warrior?”
“That could be it. So, lay it on me. What’s running through that beautiful head of yours?”
She toyed with the edge of the sheet, working to form the words to relay what she needed to say.
“Come out with it, love. Rip the band-aid off. I’m a big boy. I can take it if you aren’t interested in seeing me again.”
“That’s just it. I do want to see you again. You have to know I’m falling for you. This isn’t only a fling for me. Not any longer,” she confessed. “I was willing to play by your rules—at first. But you keep changing them up on me. I don’t know how to take the fact you keep returning. You keep doing little gestures that, coming from anyone else, would mean caring.”
He remained silent so she charged on. “The flowers, the balloon… what is it supposed to mean?”
“Why does it have to mean anything more than what it is? I brought you flowers, because every woman should have flowers. The balloon was something the florist threw in.”
Cold permeated her bones. “You didn’t pick the Be My Valentine balloon?”
He thunked his head back on the headboard and closed his eyes. “No.”
“You really don’t want a future together, do you?”
She noticed his hard swallow and forced herself to remain calm. To allow him to express exactly why he didn’t want her for a girlfriend.
“I said it the day at the airport, I want you on a level I’ve never wanted another woman. For longer than I’ve ever wanted another woman. Why can’t that be enough?”
The burning started in her nasal passages. Soon everything around her was out of focus, blurred by the moisture flooding her eyes.
“Because I’m too old for ‘casual fucks’ Mason. I want to build something with someone who loves me. I want a home with the two point five kids, a dog, and my two fat, old cats. If I wait any longer, my age will be working against me. I’ll be middle aged with no prospects in sight, and a uterus that might be starting to turn the fertile ground hostile. Can you understand where I’m coming from?”
His low voice was sweet in its simplicity, “I can.”
“And?”
“And I can’t give you what you want.”
“Fair enough. I’m going to ask you to not come back, okay? I n-need to…” She pinched the bridge of her nose and held tight the hand he was squeezing. She tried again, “I need to start the process of getting over you, and you hanging around won’t facilitate that.”
Once again he closed his eyes. This time he brought their fisted hands to his lips and pressed a long, hard kiss to her knuckles.
“Okay.” He rose and dressed, never pausing to see her devastation or the arduous struggle to hide it.
“Walk me out?”
Plunge a knife in my chest?
“Sure.”
Shonda slipped into a robe and escorted him to the foyer.
“Don’t ever think you aren’t good enough, love. My not sticking has nothing to do with that. It has everything to do with me being broken. Being unfixable.”
The sobs she’d been trying so desperately to contain, broke free of their chains. She cried the big ugly as he crushed her to his chest.
“I’m sorry, Shonda,” he whispered raggedly. “I’m sorry.”