“Okay, but you don’t get any points for that question,” I joke as I push the glass door open with my arm.
He laughs as he pulls my hips closer to his side and kisses the top of my head. The sun is starting to set with a deep blue hue across the sky and pink clouds streaking diagonally along the skyline. It’s beautiful and distinctly more perfect than anything I’ve ever felt in California.
“What’s your favorite movie?” Mason asks, still holding my hip as we make our way down the sidewalk. I smile, happy he cares about little facts like that about me.
“You can’t laugh.” I look down at our feet as we walk toward the end of the street. My toes are hot pink and make me feel young. I think about the chances of me stopping into a drug store and finding a darker shade, something that might make me seem a tad more cultured.
“I won’t laugh, just tell me,” Mason says against my temple.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I stop in the middle of street and look him square in the eye, trying not to push back the little bits of hair that have fallen across his face.
“Pretty Woman.” My answer comes out bashfully, and I hate how my face flames up.
“Pretty Woman?” Mason stares down at me, his eyebrows raised. “As in the one where the slapper gets a rich man to fall in love with her?” His cunning side smile is back, and under the dimming sky, it’s magnificent. Heat swims through me as I bask under his grin, knowing I no longer have to resist it. I pull on his shirt to bring him close and kiss him.
“Yes, that one,” I laugh, releasing him and walking ahead of him. “What’s yours?”
Mason’s long strides match my own, and he’s already caught up to me. We finally reach his dad’s car. With a small laugh, he opens my door and gives me a knowing grin.
“The Boondock Saints.”
I let out a laugh as Mason walks around the car and climbs in. Once he situates himself, he gives me a confused look.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re referring to the movie about the two Irish brothers, right?” I say through a small crack in my voice. I love laughing with Mason, love how free and easy it feels.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” he agrees in an accusatory tone while he navigates a large traffic circle.
“You know they’re not both actually from Ireland, right?”
With narrowed eyes, he puts his blinker on and gives me a quick glance. “What do you mean?” His brows have come so close together, it almost looks painful.
“Norman Reedus isn’t Irish,” I explain, hoping not to crush the moment, but secretly waiting like a little devil to revel in the knowledge he didn’t know this little piece of trivia.
“You’re codding me.” Mason’s accent erupts in a full belly laugh. I have no idea what ‘codding’ means, but I have a feeling he doesn’t believe me.
“It’s true! Norman Reedus is from Florida.” It doesn’t really matter, but I love that it’s got Mason so up in arms, shaking his head back and forth and grumbling in what I can only assume is some form of Irish.
“All this feckin time.” He’s still shaking his head, and I’m still laughing into my hand. He looks over at me with those green eyes lit up in amusement.
“You think this is funny, do ya?” he asks, reaching over to grab my thigh.
I let out a loud laugh and throw my head back.
“Mason don’t pinch me!” I scream as his hand moves up my thigh. I’m grabbing hold of his arm like it’s a life preserver in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
“No pinching, what about tickling? Are you ticklish anywhere, Charlotte Kelley?” His voice is dripping with sex and insinuation, and it’s all I need to encourage his roaming hands.
“Do you think I’m going to count those two questions as part of your total? Because I’m not,” I say around a husky breath that shouldn’t be as husky as it is, but Mason’s fingers have traveled further north.
The headlights bounce off the small side garage door at Mason’s parents’ house as we pull into the driveway. He releases my leg to downshift and pull up the e-brake. I open my door and meet him at the front door.
“You ready for this?” he gently asks as he traces my bottom lip with his finger. I let out a little sigh at his proximity.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I had no idea what ‘big’ question he might have for me, but I was ready to answer it and be vulnerable with him. I just hoped he was as well.
***