Page 26 of Between the Paragraphs

“Not nearly as beautiful as you.” He doesn’t step forward, and I look at him questioningly. His smile grows as he steps back. “I can’t come inside. If I do, I’m going to back you into a wall and consume you. If we don’t show up at this party, I have no doubt my friends will hunt us down and interrupt in the worst possible moment.” He clenches his fists together as if he’s having a hard time keeping his hands from me. This pleases me more than words can possibly express.

“Okay then, you can watch me walk away while I put these in water,” I tell him. I turn and make sure to sway my hips as I walk the small space to my kitchen. I hear him groan behind me and my smile grows. Something’s going to happen very soon. I love it.

I quickly put the flowers in water. I have to take a deep breath and force myself not to rush back to Mason. I want to grab him and kiss him, but I love this pressure between us, love the heat and excitement at knowing what’s coming. I’ve read many romance books, but I’ve never lived a romance story. This is exactly what’s happening to me. Even though I’m an editor I don’t know if I would’ve said a month ago there was any reality in romance books. I was wrong. There most certainly is. A girl just has to wait for the right man to come along. That’s hard to do when a person gets lonely.

He escorts me to the car and holds my door. I climb inside, surrounded by his scent. It’s absolutely delicious. When he joins me in the vehicle, even though it’s large, his scent becomes even stronger, and I find myself trying to hold my breath. I gasp and he quizzically looks at me.

“Sorry, lots on my mind,” I say, trying to cover up my tension. I squeeze my thighs together as I try to get comfortable in the seat. It’s not easy to do with how much I’m feeling. Never before has a man made my entire body ache. I’m both in love and hate the feeling all at the same time. The world would have a lot more babies if more people made each other feel this much intensity with nothing more than their presence.

Mason reaches over and takes my hand and I feel sweat break out on my neck. I feel like a damn dog in heat. What the hell! The conversation flows back and forth between us as we make our way to the party. Mason does most of the talking. I share a bit about my week, but it’s been pretty boring and repetitive. I’m far more interested in him talking.

He shares about his latest podcast and new designs for his online store that’s doing exceptionally well. I find myself starting to relax a bit as he gets me laughing.

When we arrive at the party, it’s very clear this is a grand affair. The venue is beautifully decorated, and the guests are all dressed to the nines, dripping in gems and wearing designer clothing.

I smooth out my dress and force my hands to rest at my side. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I have different priorities from others, and designer clothes aren’t one of those priorities. I make good money with my job, and I don’t need five-thousand-dollar dresses to make me feel good about myself.

I could be a billionaire and still not want to spend that much on clothing when I can find beautiful items in the stores. I might shop a little more at Nordstrom’s rather Penny’s if I made more money, but I’m good with my clothing choices. I know what looks flattering on my body. Even though, sometimes it can be hard not to acknowledge the difference between my discount clothing and their luxury items.

We come inside to find hundreds of guests mingling. Mason makes sure my arm stays firmly in his as he introduces me to some of his friends. I blink when I notice Miles standing at the other end of the room, arm wrapped around a petite woman with wild curly hair. It’s surreal to see another man who looks so much like Mason wrapped around another woman.

“You and Miles have a mutual friend who got engaged?” I ask.

“Miles is the one who got engaged,” Mason answers with a smile.

“You said it was your friend,” I respond while smacking his arm. “A twin brother isn’t a friend.”

“I beg to differ,” Mason disagrees.

“I thought your brother’s been engaged for a while now,” I whisper, now wanting to sound like I’m complaining. That wouldn’t be the greatest impression on the most important person in Mason’s life.

“About half a year,” Mason says with a shrug. “But they’re having a long engagement, so they wanted to host a celebration to get everyone together so our families and friends can meet and mingle.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” I mumble with a glare. “I would’ve maybe tried dressing more professionally.”

This makes him laugh. “This isn’t work, it’s a social event,” he says. He leans down and kisses me. I realize I’m being stupid. “Come on.” He leads me straight to Miles and Emily.

“Emily, you haven’t officially met Maria yet. She’s going to be Miles’s best editor ever, and is my beautiful girlfriend,” Mason says, causing my cheeks to pinken.

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Emily says with a welcoming smile. “I’ve been blessed with entering the publishing world, and I love it so much.”

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t aware you’re an author,” I say, embarrassed. I should know this.

Emily swipes her hand in the air. “I write poetry which bares my soul to the world, and is hard for me to talk about. I love it, though, more than you can imagine. Miles is trying to talk me into doing a book with him. Maybe someday, but for now I’m focusing on what led me into this world,” Emily says.

“I love poetry. I’m going to buy your book as soon as I leave here,” I tell her. She beams at me.

“It’s so funny because I can write all day and night, but talking about my writing is so difficult. I think because it’s so personal,” she says.

“I understand how you feel. I have a lot of authors who hate talking about their work. It really does feel like an open-heart surgery that’s being aired live.”

“Yes,” Emily says.

“I felt that way in the beginning, but I’ve already shared it all with the world, so I’ve been exposed so much that there’s nothing left to hide,” Miles says.

Mason bursts out laughing. “No one wants to see what you’re exposing, brother.”

“I sure do,” Emily says as she beams up at her fiancé.

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