Page 33 of Black Roses

His eyes fill with compassion. “Okay, so no birthday.” He leans over and blows out the candle, removing it from the dessert. He picks up my champagne glass and hands it to me. “To us, then. To completing the Boston Marathon—a distinguishable accomplishment only a select few can claim.”

How he can manage to pull me from the depths of self-abhorrence, I’m not quite clear on, but at his remark, I crack a tiny smile and take my glass from him. “To you, for making it possible for me to finish.”

We clink glasses and drink. I down the whole thing in three swift gulps. Mason laughs. “Ahhh, so I’ve found your drink. Unreasonably overpriced champagne it is.” He pours me another. As I watch the bubbly liquid effervesce in my glass, I remind myself what happened the last time I drank too much around Mason. I ended up panicking and punching out the valet. I vow to limit myself to two glasses—enough to loosen me up and allow me to enjoy the evening Mason is trying so hard to orchestrate.

“Come on.” He gets a forkful of Tiramisu and offers it to me. “It’d be a shame to waste this dessert that in no way, shape or form even begins to resemble a birthday cake. I’m not even sure why they brought this, I mean what idiot serves Tiramisu for someone’s birthday? This is obviously an ‘I finished the marathon’cake.”

I laugh and take the bite, holding his inviting stare. I’m not sure what it is that makes it so intimate when one person feeds another. Mothers feed their kids all the time. So why then, when he pulls the fork slowly from my mouth, do I feel a shockwave traveling all the way from my mouth to the very core of my being?

I take a sip of my champagne and try to form a coherent sentence. “Actually, it means ‘lift me up’.”

“Uh, what?” He loosens the top button of his blue dress shirt and I realize he’s just as flustered by my bite of cake as I am.

“I lived in Italy for six months,” I explain. “Tiramisu means ‘pick me up’ or ‘lift me up.’ So, you see, itisappropriate. You literally lifted me up in the race and forced me to continue. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to truly thank you for that.” I fiddle with my bracelet, twisting the charm around it on my wrist. “As a matter of fact, I have a lot more to thank you for than just the race. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say it, but I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

His face lights up as he digs in and offers me another bite. “Believe me, Piper. It’s been my pleasure.”

Someone clinks a spoon on a glass and our attention turns to the table beside us. We watch a man make a toast to his son who is graduating from law school. My eyes fall on Mason as he longingly witnesses the exchange between father and son. We cheer along with the other patrons and raise our glasses in toast.

When the applause dies down, I reach across the table and place a sympathetic hand on Mason’s arm, relishing the electrified heat that I’ve come to expect with our touches. “I’m so sorry about your parents. I can only imagine how horrible that must have been for you. I’m sure they would be proud that you’ve accomplished so much.”

He nods, not taking his eyes off my hand that still rests on him. He covers my hand with his other one, holding it in place on his arm. “Thank you. I’ve learned to live with it. It’s a part of who I am. But I won’t let it define me.” His eyes capture mine, burning into the far reaches of my mind as if he knows my deepest, darkest secrets. His thumb caresses my knuckles, sending a comforting warmth through me. “Bad things happen to good people, Piper. We just can’t let our past dictate our future.”

I pull my hand back and he instantly releases it, smiling over at me, almost like he senses my fear of being held down. He picks up his drink and touches the rim of it to mine. “So, where am I taking you next Saturday, Piper?”

chapter fourteen

mason

Jarod delivers our orders, interrupting the conversations at the table, and it reminds me of last night. The waiter had shitty timing. I never did get an answer from Piper about a second date. Then when I took her home and walked her up the stairs, this two-hundred-twenty-pound quarterback was afraid to repeat the question for fear of rejection.

I didn’t try to kiss her. I wasn’t going to push my luck. I was grateful she didn’t run out on me after all the mistakes I made seemingly putting my foot in my mouth more than once. She wasn’t ready. But she was conflicted, I could tell. As we stood on the porch, she kept staring at my lips, a sure sign she was thinking about kissing me. There was nothing more I wanted to do in that moment. The pull was so strong I had to physically restrain myself by grabbing the railing behind me. Her lips were so soft and vaguely pouty. Simply perfect. And since I’d touched them earlier when I wiped the barbeque sauce from them, I knew exactly what I was missing.

I only hope I have another chance.

But as I watch Jarod serving the food, I notice his eyes never stray far from Piper. He wants her. What if I’ve opened up the door to her dating and now he’s going to take the opportunity I’ve afforded him? Why the hell did we have to have brunchheretoday? Why not Maple Creek or Long Island?

“Hey, Piper,” Jarod says, putting her omelet in front of her. “Are you working later?”

She shakes her head. “No. Not until tomorrow.”

His faces falls in disappointment. “Oh, well, me too. I guess I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” she says, smiling up at him.

Smiling. It’s a rarity for Piper Mitchell. Why is she smiling at him? As I ponder it, she looks over at me to catch me staring. Her smile gets bigger. And just like the fucking Grinch, my heart expands and almost bursts through my chest. I think for a brief second that maybe I’m the one who put the smile on her face. Perhaps she’s simply in a good mood after our date? She seems relaxed today. Carefree. Dare I say . . . happy.

I glance over at Jarod, who is still paying close attention to our table. Probably because the owners and his manager are all in attendance. I’ll give her the day to think about it. Then I’ll catch her at the gym tomorrow. Before she comes to work. Before the tatted-up boy has a chance to ask her out and butt in on my girl. Because that’s exactly how I see her.Mine. I can’t bear the thought of anyone else being with her. Touching her. But deep down, I know that’s exactly what happened in her past. And not in a good way.

I start to lose my appetite.

“So, how’d it go last night?” Griffin elbows me from his seat next to mine, whispering so nobody else can hear. “If I had to guess, pretty damn good. I’ve never seen Piper wake up in a good mood. That woman is not a morning person.”

“Really?” My previous thoughts fall away as a smile threatens to split my face open.

“Yeah, I’m telling you the girl was walking on cloud nine. She even made coffee for us. That’s a first. Whatever you’re doing, just keep on doing it.”

“Did she say anything?” I ask, hesitantly.

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