Page 16 of Promise Me Not

Mason freezes, Deaton halfway to his chest, his eyes snapping over to lock on mine. “Chase texts you?”

I don’t know why, but my cheeks flame. Before I can respond, Mia starts talking, but I tune her out and stand, grabbing the baby seat and dusting off the Lamb Chop toy Deaton dropped onto the sandy blanket the second Mason smiled at him.

I turn to Mason again, an excuse of Deaton needing a change on the tip of my tongue, but Mason has already spun on his heels, headed for the water’s edge. He drops onto his butt right there, shifting my son so he’s standing between his bent legs, his little feet pressed into the wet sand.

Deaton’s face is in my line of sight, and when he smiles wide, shoving his hands in his mouth because he’s so excited he doesn’t know what else to do, a low laugh leaves me. I suck ina deep breath, set the things back in the sand, and move to join them, because how could I not?

Nerves fire off in my stomach, but I count through it, doing all I can to keep myself from running with my tail between my legs.

Mason doesn’t look up as I lower beside the pair, but when Deaton turns his smile on me, stomping his feet and sending little speckles of wet sand all around, he laughs and glances my way.

Our eyes meet, but he swiftly averts his gaze.

After a moment, he asks, “Think he’ll be too cold if his feet touch the water?”

That’s right. He hasn’t gotten to see him enjoy the water yet this summer.

I shake my head. “No, he loves the water, even as chilly as it is.”

“Yeah?” Mason grins but keeps his attention on Deaton as he spins him so he’s facing the ocean. Mason shifts, walking on his knees the three feet forward to where the waves die out against the sand. “Okay, little man, here it comes.”

I bite back a smile at the uncertainty in his tone. When Deaton jolts, his eyes bugging wide as a small, surprised whine escapes, Mason panics, tugging him straight into his chest and looking to me in, well, panic.

A laugh leaves me instantly, and slowly Mason relaxes, a low chuckle pushing past his lips.

“Here.” I reach out.

Mason holds on to Deaton a second longer, almost like if he hands him over, he has no idea how long it might be before he gets the chance to hold him again, and it’s heartbreaking.

It’s your fault, Payton.

Hesitantly, he passes him to me. I turn Deaton to face me, and when a wave comes, I make an excited little sound, widening my eyes and opening my mouth wide.

Deaton tenses from the cool water but just as quickly starts stomping his feet, fighting to bend at the waist so he can slap at it with his palms. I hold him back at first but end up setting him on his butt between my legs so he can play for a few minutes.

“He’s a total water baby,” I say, though I’m not sure why I’m whispering. “Bath times are his favorite times.”

When I look at Mason, he’s not looking at me. He’s smiling softly at my son, and a heavy sense of longing washes over me.

“Look how strong he is now, sitting up all by himself,” he notes, reaching out to splash at the water with him.

“Yeah.”

He must hear the happiness in my voice, because he looks at me then, an agonizing tenderness in his gaze. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“No.” My denial is too fast. Too rushed. Too loud.

“I’ve been here four times this summer.” Mason’s brown eyes hold mine. “You were gone every single one of those times.”

“My internship at Embers Elite is demanding and?—”

“And you wrapped that up in May, freeing up your schedule until it starts again at the end of summer.” He studies me. “We talked all about it…when you were still taking my calls and answering my messages.”

My lips clamp closed, and I swallow. A gust of wind kicks, and a piece of hair falls into my face. Instantly, his hand lifts, but as if he didn’t even know it was happening, he frowns and drops it back to his lap.

A heavy ache settles in my bones, and I don’t know if it’s because he was going to touch me or because he didn’t.

Clearing my throat, I push to my feet, taking Deaton with me. “I should get him cleaned off and?—”

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