Page 46 of Boundaries

Heat plumed across my skin and with a resigned sigh, I huffed, “It’s none of your business.” My words sounded much bolder in my head. A sense of foreboding started to uncoil inside me.

Those lips twisted and he winked. He fucking winked at me! I wanted to hit him in his washboard stomach, even though it would probably shatter the cartilage in my hand.

“If you say so,” he goaded.

I sucked in a breath, “I’m walking to the village. If you see Mattie, please tell him to call me.”

“Why don’t you learn to drive so you can use the car your daddy bought you? Instead of leaving it there gathering dust.” Nixon needled.

“Fuck off,” I threw back.

“You’re such an ungrateful little bitch,” Nixon grated out between clenched teeth.

With a quirk of my head, I shot him my best ‘couldn’t give a shit’ face and the two-finger salute. I then retrieved my phone and stuffed it into the back pocket of my shorts before showing them all my back.

“Amy, please.”

I heard Nixon say, “Leave her Jenna, she’ll come around.” He said the words with conviction but in a gentle tone. Nix treated Jenna like she could crack in half at any moment.

“She’ll come around,” I huffed to myself. Really? It would be a cold day in hell before that happened. I would never accept any McKenna into my life. I pushed the image of Mason’s perfect face away. I didn’t like how it had started to make me feel or any reminder of what had happened at the beach. No matter how amazing it had felt. His kindness toward me could also do one.

I checked my phone on my way through the front door and onto the porch. It had vibrated about a million times whilst I’d stood in the kitchen with the World’s worst fucking newlyweds.

The messages were from Alex and that feeling of betrayal came back.

Anger surged through me as I stomped down the steps of the porch with a little more force than was necessary.

Can we talk? I’m so sorry you had to find out like that.

Worrying my lip, I thought about how best to reply.

As I was thumbing in my text, the distinctive throaty roar of Mason’s truck sounded along the main dirt road. It was a right-of-way section which ran to the main road from both farms.

I glanced up from my phone and watched as it rattled toward me along the stones and mud. The piece of shit was louder than my dad’s oldest tractor.

Quickly, I moved to the side of the track so he wouldn’t run me over with his car. Something he’d probably dreamt of doing.

Mason had the passenger window rolled down, his fingers were curled tightly around the steering wheel and oh my God, those fingers… I batted the thought off quickly.

My eyes narrowed. Neither of us spoke and I watched as he released one hand from the wheel, bent over and then threw something at me.

It was a carrier bag, luckily, I caught it before it smashed me in the face.

I glanced down, it was all my stuff, including my shoes and my mouth dropped open but no sound came out.

His expression was unreadable but he didn’t look overly happy and he revved the car and moved to push it into gear. Ready to make his move.

My hand shot out to ward him off and catch his attention. I had to make this right.

“Mason,” I shouted forcefully to be heard above the growl of the engine, dropping my hand, and stepping toward the passenger door. He took his foot off the throttle and shot me an impatient look. He wasn’t going to make it easy for me.

“I’m…” Fuck me, how hard was it to say thank you to this person.

His mouth twisted in distaste and he gave me a look that should have frozen the words in my mouth. Instinct warned me to proceed with caution. Would he throw any thanks back in my face? Swallowing my foolish pride, I took a deep breath and did the right thing.

“Thank you,” I said quite desperately.

He misunderstood and shrugged dismissively, “I thought you’d want your Converse back. Especially that pair, they never seem to leave your feet.” He responded in a calm, giving nothing away tone.

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