Page 62 of I Choose You

I spin on my heel, instantly saddened over him pulling away. “You love my loud mouth.”

His eyes create a line, moving from mine, down to my lips, and back up again. He drops his forehead to mine. “I love many things about you. Your mouth isn’t the only thing.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and try to ignore the rampant beat of my heart. “What else do you love about me?”

“Everything.”

I smack at his chest, and he laughs. “Too vague. You’re supposed to be buttering me up, you know.”

“I am?” I can feel him cock a brow with our foreheads touching. “What am I buttering you up for?” He moves a hand between my legs and cups me where I wish he would have touched a minute ago. “This?”

When I giggle and wiggle under his touch, he moves a hand to my face. His finger lightly traces the skin below my lip. “Or these? I’ll gladly accept either.”

I smile. “I’m sure you would.”

“Does that mean you’re at least going to kiss me?”

I fold my lips into my mouth to hold back my grin. “Nope.”

He crouches slightly to get a better look at me. His expression twinkles with amusement. “You think this is funny?” Then he cages me against the counter and props a leg between mine. All over again, warmth runs through me, and I bite down on my lip. “It’s not fun, is it?”

Without warning, he pulls my lip free and dips down to press a kiss right on my lips. I have half a mind to pull away, but he distracts me in the best of ways. His lips roam over mine, and I happily run my tongue along his when it meets me in the middle.

A timid growl rolls into my mouth as I wind my arms around his neck.

“Easy there, tiger,” Mom says suddenly.

My eyes fly open. I twist my head to the side and see none other than my mom standing in the doorway. Embarrassment covers every other emotion in me. When I look back at Mason, he’s quiet as a mouse with a grin playing at the corner of his lips.

Mom snaps a hand over her face when I look back at her. “Oh. Sorry. I wasn’t supposed to see that, was I?”

“Um…”

I can’t formulate words.

Can’t put a sentence together to save my life.

“I wanted a water,” she explains. “You know I love a delicious cake, but that icing was a little too sweet, so I wanted to wash down some of the sugar.” She says it so nonchalantly. Like she didn’t just walk in on Mason slurping my tongue into his mouth.

What the heck is it with people finding us in kitchens together?

“Honey,” she says, separating two fingers to peek through. “Would you mind bringing me one? I promise I won’t interrupt again.”

“Sure,” I squeak, then clear my throat. “I’ll bring one right out. Bottle or glass?”

“Glass, please,” she says. “With a little ice. There’s some in the freezer.”

I nod, unable to get another word out.

She turns on her foot to walk back into the living room. Before she’s out of sight, she turns. “Oh, and by the way, I approve.” She lifts a hand, rocking it side to side. “Took you a little long, Mason, but I forgive you.”

Mason beams with a smile wide enough to blind an entire state. “Thanks, Della.”

“She’s my baby girl,” Mom reminds. “Make sure you read between the lines.”

My cheeks turn fire engine red at Mom’s warning.

Is this actually happening?

---