Page 27 of Between the Paragraphs

“You two are incredibly adorable together,” I tell them.

“I’ve never been happier,” Miles says.

“Me either,” Emily says.

“Thank you for allowing me to be the plus one at your event. It’s beautiful here,” I say.

“I’m glad you’re here. I like my brother more since he’s been dating you. I think we’re going to work well together,” Miles says.

“I think so too,” I tell him. It always makes me nervous when the papers aren’t signed, but I really do think this deal will come through just fine. We continue chatting for a few more moments before Miles and Emily are pulled away from us.

Soon, we’re led to our seats at a table with a lively group of people who all greet us with enthusiasm. Conversation flows, but it’s slightly boring. I’m not nearly as into football, though, in their defense. I like to watch a good game with a fun crowd, but talking plays is pretty far down my list of fun. When I’m watching a game, I like talking plays, but if it’s not currently on, I don’t want to discuss it for hours.

Mason reads me so well, it’s a bit scary. He leans against me. “Want to play a new game?” he asks with a wicked smile, his hot breath brushing across my ear and sending shivers through me.

There’s nothing I like more than this mischievous glint in his eyes. It tells me he’s up to no good . . . and I love it. I also love that he cares about how I’m feeling. He’s clearly having fun with the conversation, but he wants to make sure I’m just as involved. It’s not every man who feels this way.

“What do you have in mind?” I ask. I like playing games with this man. There are many games I wouldn’t mind playing with him that we certainly can’t do in public.

I internally laugh as I think about this. I used to be so prudish, a very vanilla person, but I’ve come to realize that whatever makes people happy is what’s good for them. If a couple wants to dress up, play with toys, or simply lay as one that’s their own business. I think Mason and I both enjoy excitement in our lives. Where this leads us only time will tell.

“Want to shock the table with our best flirting?” he suggests. This makes me laugh which causes several heads to turn our way. He’s incredibly good with pick-up lines, and the way he flirts with me sends my blood to boiling and makes me squeeze my thighs together.

“What are you two whispering about?” one of the women asks. It’s a good thing she isn’t asking me what I’m thinking about. I might just tell her. I wonder if Mason would be horrified or throw me over his shoulder. I could test him and find out. Tempting . . . very tempting.

“Playing games,” I say with a wink. I give her just a hint. Unfortunately, I’m not brave enough to say what sort of games. Then again, Mason didn’t suggest ropes, he said a flirting game.

“I have a feeling it’s not football games,” the woman says. She has a friendly and inviting presence about her. Mason really is surrounded by great people. It’s very impressive. I might not even shock them with the thoughts I’m having. I have a feeling they’ll be able to shock me a lot more, not easy to do when I’m in the world of publishing where everything’s on the table when it comes to books.

“It’s a game we can all play,” Mason says. He then leans back and looks at me. “Maria, did it hurt?” He’s keeping his tone serious but he can’t wipe the twinkle from his eyes. I smile at him as I raise an eyebrow.

“Did what hurt?” I ask as I lift my drink and take a sip.

“When you fell from heaven, because it looks like you landed right on your face,” he finishes with a wink. My mouth drops open in horror as a couple of people around our table gasp. I then burst out laughing. If I didn’t already know how much he desires me I might be offended. I give him my most competitive smile.

“Oh, I see how this is going to go,” I tell him. “And I’m more than ready for you.”

“I like this game,” one of the men says. He looks at me. “Do you have a name, or can I call you mine?” He shows me all of his pearly whites.

“Oh, mine for sure,” I tell him.

“I don’t think so,” Mason says as he wraps his arm around me, pulls me in, and gives me a scorching kiss for all of the people at our table to see. He’s clearly marking me as his . . . and I like it, a lot.

The table gives some catcalls and laughter as we continue on with cheesy, funny, insulting, and corny pickup lines. Some are much better than others.

“Not that one,” I groan as one of the men finish a line to the laugher of the whole table. “Someone tried that one in high school in their valedictorian speech, directed at me. I think I might die if I have to keep reliving that moment.” I cringe at the reminder of that awful day.

“I’ll protect you from the big bad valedictorian,” Mason assures me with a serious nod. I laugh and lean against him, soaking up the camaraderie.

“Oh, Mason,” one of the women says, her boyfriend next to her, clearly loving this game as much as we are.

“Yes, Ellie?” he says, reluctantly pulling from me to give her his attention.

“If you were a vegetable, I’d name you a cute-cumber,” she says. This makes her boyfriend laugh harder.

“You won’t be calling anyone else cute but me,” he says to her, then gives her a kiss that has us all laughing again. These men play hard, and they love hard. It’s clear to see.

We all come up with more lines, laughing so much that other tables are all turning our way. I’m sure many of them wish they were sitting with us. It’s kind of great being at the popular table. I might not be in fancy jewels and expensive clothes, but I do have a way with words, and I know how to make people around me comfortable. I like to have fun and make any events memorable. That’s what’s happening here with Mason.

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