Page 61 of I Choose You

If I sit and think about it for too long, I start questioning everything. I don’t want to second guess my time with Mason. I just want to…enjoy it.

“It’s her birthday, Mase. I want the day to be about her.”

He sniffs and folds his lips into his mouth to hide his disappointment. “I know.” His voice softens. “I get it. I don’t want you to think I want to hide us because there’s not one part of me that wants to keep you hidden.”

I should recoil at his words, grimace at the underlying meaning, but we went over this when I invited him to come. I shared my reservations early on, so he knew what to expect. Does it bother me he’s not one hundred percent for keeping it a secret? Yes. But I don’t want to rush into something I’ll regret later.

“I know,” I say quietly. “We should get inside before she starts calling and asking where we are.”

Mom reaches across the table and flattens her palm on Mason’s cheek. Love and adoration come through in her affection, and my heart tugs at their silent exchange.

She’s going to miss him as much as I will.

“You sure you can’t stay in little ole Maine?” This is the fourth time she’s asked since we’ve been here, and Mason plays it off with his charm each time.

“Ah, come on, Della.” Her hand drops when he leans his elbows on the table. “Tell you what, next year I’ll buy your birthday cake. I’ll spring big for one of the fancy ones. We can do a flamingo or bedazzled purse. Those are up your alley, right?”

I laugh loudly because my mom isn’t into either of those things, and he knows it. She’s more of the laid-back, farmgirl type than anything. She’d be more excited to see a cake that looks like a sewing machine or a dated kitchen utensil than anything.

Mom pushes her chair out and stands, messing Mason’s hair up on her way to the sink. “I thought your brother was the one who joked.”

I prop my head on my hand and watch as Mason grins, the scar along his jaw stretching. My hand begs to reach out and trace it, to run my finger along his skin.

“Where do you think I learned it from?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder to where she stands.

Mom washes her hands before shifting what’s left of the cake back into the box. “You sure you don’t want another piece before I put it away?”

“I couldn’t eat another bite if I tried,” Mason says. “Especially not after those steaks you grilled for us.”

Mom smiles, then looks over at me as she licks the icing off the knife we used to cut the first piece. “What about you, honey? You’ve been awfully quiet. Need another slice?”

I shake my head. “No thanks, Mom. Why don’t you let us clean up? You cooked for us. Go find something for us to watch, and Mason and I will tidy the kitchen.”

“That actually does sound quite nice.” Her brown eyes relax when she closes the cake box. “You want to watch anything specific?”

I softly smile as I get up from the table. When I get to her, I pull her into a hug, wrapping my arms around her waist and squeezing. “You pick. It’s your day.”

When she rears back, she puts her hand on my cheek. The same way she did to Mason and pats it gently. “Love you, honey.” Then she drops her hand and wipes them on the hand towel hanging from the stove. “Shouldn’t take you two long in here. I’ll be in the living room.”

Mason gets to his feet and pulls her into a side hug when she tries to pass. She pats his chest, then skedaddles to the sofa. Mason waits until she’s out of sight before he strolls over to me while cracking his knuckles. In an instant, his hands are on my hips, and a flush creeps down my neck. My stomach warms, erupting with scalding hot lava when he grabs hold of my waist and slowly drags my ass to his groin. My breath wavers.

“Just thought you should know that I can’t get you out of my head,” he says quietly in my ear, running the tip of his nose along the backside of my neck. His hands slide to the front of my body, and he rubs them down my thighs.

I lean into him, my arms and legs turning jelly-like.

Truth is, I can’t get him out of my head, either.

It doesn’t help when his hands glide back up and sneak under my shirt. His fingers are cold against my skin, making me jerk back into him.

“Careful,” he whispers. “Unless you want to see my arousal the entire time we clean up.” He gyrates his hips, pressing said excitement into my ass.

My breath hitches as I lick my lips. My neck cranes to the side, and just like that, his mouth moves to pepper kisses along it. A throaty whimper works itself out of me and he hushes me, bringing his hand to cover my mouth.

I should care that this is happening in my mom’s kitchen, but what’s best for me flies out the damn window when he touches me.

His other hand moves to yank my shirt away from my shoulder, his teeth nipping into me. Warmth pools in my abdomen immediately, making my panties slick and creating another moan I can’t quite keep quiet.

“Shhh,” he sounds, lifting his mouth from me. “I’m stopping before you give us away with your loud mouth.”

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