Page 60 of I Choose You

27

Mackenzie

“You didn’t have to get her a gift,” I tell Mason after he sprints around the car with two gift bags on his wrist to open the door for me. “Consider yourself the present. All she wanted was to see you before you left.”

His handsome face relaxes, his mouth lifting at the corners. “You tell me this every year, and I still always get her something.”

“Yeah,” I say, holding her birthday cake box steady in my hands when I slide out of the car. “And you never listen.”

He purses his lips. “This is Della we’re talking about. Momma Jones—”

“Don’t call her Momma Jones.” My face twists in aversion.

He slams the door shut, locking the car with his key fob. “You never tell Luke not to call her that.”

“That’s different.”

He laughs, tossing his head back. The movement extenuates his neck, making his Adam’s apple more prominent. “How do you figure?”

I walk quickly along the path leading to Mom’s apartment. Thankfully, it’s only one set of stairs since the icing on the cake is already getting dewy. I wasn’t thinking when I ordered from a shop in Quaint. I didn’t take into consideration that we would be blasting the heat in the car our entire drive here.

I glance through the see-through plastic and take note of the tiny dots of perspiration on the ivory flowers bordering the lettering. It reads Happy Birthday, Mom! in bold, beautiful yellow lettering. I smile to myself, knowing she’ll brighten up from seeing her favorite color alone.

“Hello?” Mason’s long legs have no problem keeping up with me. He even skips a step when we make it up the staircase. “How do you figure it’s different?”

I look over at him as we make it to the landing, and my heart surges, beating against my chest in an effort to get closer to him.

How is he so damn handsome? If I didn’t care so much about making my mom’s birthday perfect for her, I’d throw this damn cake over the railing and drag him back to the car. “Because you’re you, and he’s him.”

He smirks slightly, but not enough that I don’t notice the fire burning luminously under his lashes. He’s always giving me this look. The one that tells me he would back me against the wall and have me if time and privacy allowed.

It’s only natural I break out in a sweat. I’m still getting used to our intimacy, the way he looks as if he wants to devour me like I’m his cake. “We’re about to see my mom,” I blow my bangs away from my face. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Slowly, he steps closer, extending his hand until it rests on my hip. Even through our thick clothing, I can sense the weight of it. He arches a brow, but there’s a teasing lilt in his voice. “Like what, Kenz?”

“You know, like what,” I say, lowering my voice as he does exactly what I pictured in my head a moment ago. He walks me backward until my back hits the wall of the exterior steps of the apartment building. He looks at the box in my hands, and I know he’s thinking about tossing it over the railing, too.

“Mason.” It comes out breathy, which totally screws with the underlying tone of warning I initially planned for.

“Mackenzie.” His voice is no louder. It’s quiet and calculated and steals the air from my lungs.

The building around fades. It’s him and me. And this box of cake. “I hate it when you call me by my full name.”

He angles his head to the side. “Really?”

I nod.

“How come you never told me?”

I shrug. “It wasn’t important until now.”

He looks at me, and I swear he steals half of my soul as he does. “No?”

“No.”

“Can I kiss you before we go in?” he asks, his gaze flicking down to my mouth. We did this already. Kissed in the car before we got out. “Or you could get over it and let your mom know we’ve been fooling around.” He stands taller at the prospect of me letting the cat out of the bag. Only, I’m not ready to.

Luke freaked when he initially saw us together. I don’t want my mom doing the same, especially when today isn’t about us. And while we’ve taken on the appearance of a couple, we have yet to add the title.

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