Page 165 of Stolen Moments

She scrunches her nose. “I think I’ll pass on the marathon and the death-defying mountain climbing for now.”

She cups my jaw in her soft palm, and like the addict I am, needing more of her, I lean into her touch.

“Thank you. I appreciate your support. And who knows, maybe someday … I’ll get back to you on the second business idea.”

“Rylann’s going to kill me,” I groan.

She drops her hand and throws her head back as she barks a laugh. “I’d be more afraid of Scarlett.”

“True.”

She props her cheek on my shoulder, and I kiss the top of her head, sinking into and absorbing the comfortable intimacy of our dinner. Of us.

I had hoped she’d ask me to stay and eat dinner with her, but this is better than I ever expected. I run my fingers over her braid, and she shivers at my touch.

“Eat your dinner, Em.”

“Yes, Mr. Bossy.”

I growl and she laughs, diving into her tacos without a care that she just made my cock harder than steel with that response.

Fuck, I missed her—this—so much.

I smile to myself as I come up with ways to make her pay for it later.

Chapter fifty-three

Emery

After dinner, I convincedMason to hang around to watch an episode of our favorite show. Not like that was hard. It was cute watching him try playing it cool.

The episode ends, and we continue to sit side by side on the couch. We are snuggled up, with his arm around me and my head on his shoulder. Another episode starts to play, and I can’t bring myself to hit stop.

I want him to stay. I missed him so much these last few months. In the days since he’s apologized and confessed his love, he has managed to heal a considerable amount of the damage he caused to my heart by walking away. Every time he texts, calls, and sends me a small gift or dinner, he’s showing me he’s here for me. He tells me he loves me constantly.

I want to say it back, but I’m scared, and the words end up getting caught on the tip of my tongue. I do love him. With all my heart. I’ll tell him when the time feels right, and it will for sure be in person. I want to see the look on his face when he hears the words back for the first time.

His fingers glide over my shoulder, searing me through the fabric of his shirt—the one I wear almost every night. I could tell by the huge grin on his face that he recognized it when I opened the door. He likes me inhis clothes.

I splay my hand over his chest, feeling his steady heart beat beneath, running my fingers over his shirt in mindless circles. My core throbs, begging for him to touch me. I shift, letting my hand brush over the noticeable bulge in his jeans. My body hums as the energy between us grows hot, crackling and licking at my skin.

Mason adjusts himself beside me, drawing my eyes to his.

With his free hand, he tilts my chin up. “Em?”

“Hmm.”

“I need to head out.” His voice is gruff and sultry.

I can’t stop myself from pouting at his attempt at leaving. I’m not ready for him to go, even though he probably should.

He presses my bottom lip down with his thumb. “Don’t give me that face.”

“What face?” I won’t admit it to him, but I’m annoyed. He can’t leave; he hasn’t even kissed me yet.

Mason chuckles and presses a chaste kiss to my mouth that makes my lips tingle and the throb between my legs intensify.

“You’re cute. Now, up you go. Time to walk me to the door.” He scoops me up in his arms, bridal style, and strides to my front door.

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