Chapter Ten

Mason

I see it coming—I think before she even realizes what she’s doing. She leans forward and I’m sure she’s going to stop short…but she doesn’t. She goes in all the way until her sweet, soft mouth is touching mine. It’s a tentative kiss that’s over as quickly as it began, leaving me wondering if it ever happened at all. But I can see from the flaming scarlet color of her cheeks that it most definitely did happen. And she’s most definitely regretting it.

Well, to hell with that.

“Don’t,” I say.

But it’s too late, she’s already recoiling, a hand covering her mouth as she does.

“Oh. Oh God. I’m so… I’m sorry…”

“Walker—”

“I didn’t mean to. I never should have… That was just…”

“Great.”

“What?”

“It was great. It was more than great, it was perfect. I think you’re perfect,” I tell her, speaking in the calming tones that one uses when trying to coax a scared animal.

I reach out, laying my hand over hers. It feels fragile under my touch, as if I could break it. As if I could break her.

“Please,” she implores me. “Please don’t. This is hard enough already.”

“Walker! Why? Why the hell is it so hard? You’ve got to give me more to go on than that. I mean, based on that kiss, you’re at least a little attracted to me. And I know for a fact that I’m a lot attracted to you. I’m not suggesting we get engaged or anything, just that we spend a little time together. Maybe…you know, a little more of that kissing stuff…”

I’m sure I can see the corners of her pretty mouth twitching as she fights the urge to smile.

“You’re very sweet,” she says.

“I know,” I agree.

“And all this,” she begins, gesturing at the tent around us, “is just…it’s really special. And thoughtful…”

“That’s what I was going for.”

“But I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t do this. Look, I told you I’d do one date. And this is it. I’ll finish dinner and then I’ve got to leave—”

“You just got here!”

“You said I could leave whenever I want,” she reminds me.

“Well, yeah, but that was before you kissed me… I mean, of course you can leave whenever you want. I’d just hoped…”

She is smiling at me now, but I don’t like this smile one bit. It’s the sad, regretful smile of a person who’s about to tell you something you really don’t want to hear.

“I’m really sorry. I never should have kissed you.”

“Why not?”

“Because now you’re going to think there’s a possibility that I…that we might go out again. But I can’t. I won’t.”

I run a hand through my hair and sit back on the blanket, putting a little space between us, as if it will somehow give me a clearer picture of her. Of what’s going on. This woman is a total and complete enigma, and I’m starting to feel like a total and complete idiot for not getting whatever it is that she’s trying to tell me.

“Why? Not?” I ask, exasperation making the two words come out a little more sharply than I’d intended.

“I told you the other day. I warned you, but you didn’t listen. I don’t do relationships.”

“So you just do casual? Is that it?” I try, clutching at any straw I can think of in hopes of pulling the one that unlocks the answers I’m searching for.

She shakes her head at me. “No. I mean, I don’t do relationships at all. I don’t date.”

I’m confused. She can’t mean that in a literal sense. Not a hot, smart, twentysomething-year-old woman.

“So…do you mean guys don’t generally ask you out?”

She huffs her irritation. “Yes, I get asked out plenty. I just always say no. And I never ask anyone out. Ever.”

“Never ever?”

“Never ever.”

“Is there some reason why…?” I press, needing to know if someone has hurt her. If there’s some guy out there I need to beat the crap out of for breaking this beautiful girl.

She looks away, at something just over my shoulder, then down at her hands in her lap. “I… It has to do with my family, and you promised we didn’t have to talk about family.”

I did. And, while that was a relief to me earlier, when I dreaded telling her about my family, it’s just confusing the hell out of me right now.

“Walker, why did you come here tonight?” I ask at last.

She looks a little taken aback by the question.

“Because I lost the bet.”

“Yeah, we both know that’s bull. I haven’t known you for long, but I can already see that you don’t do a damn thing you don’t want to do.”

She shifts uncomfortably on the blanket before she finally answers.

“I wanted to pretend.”

“Pretend what?”

“That I could have this…this thing that other people have. That I could be with someone like you and be happy.”

The obvious response here would be to tell her that she doesn’t have to pretend. That she can have this. That she can be happy. But, for whatever reason, Walker O’Halloran doesn’t believe this to be true, and I’m fairly certain there isn’t a thing I can say that’s going to convince her otherwise. So I do the only other thing I can think to do. I just go with it.

I get to my feet, fish my phone out of my pocket, swiping and tapping until Glenn Miller’s “Moonlight Serenade” begins to stream through the tiny speakers I have positioned around the tent. Then I walk to where she’s sitting and extend a hand downward. She looks up at me then takes it without asking any questions. When she’s on her feet, I pull her close against me and begin the slow rock from side to side, moving the way my mother and father did when they used to dance around the living room when we were kids. She doesn’t fight me, instead resting her head against my chest. I, in return, rest my chin atop her head. I’m pretty sure that both of us have our eyes closed as we move in small circles under the fairy lights.

And I pretend to pretend.