Page 78 of The Snuggle is Real
I glanced his way, properly looking at him for the first time since he’d entered the room.
“Mason!” I grabbed his arm. “You shouldn’t be painting in those clothes. You need to take them off.”
He glanced down at the slacks and burgundy sweater he’d put on for his meeting with Nick.
“You trying to teach me how to strip again?”
He lifted his gaze to meet mine and a jolt went through me. I let go of his arm before I did something crazy like pull him to me.
His cheeks turned pink. “Sorry. Bad joke.”
I huffed a little laugh. “It’s okay. I walked right into that one.”
“You really did,” he said with a smirk.
My phone alarm went off, and I checked the time. “Shoot. I have to get over to the park to help tear down the brew fest.”
“Okay, no problem. I can finish this up on my own.”
“I’d stay if I could,” I said, hating to leave a job unfinished. “I’m just hoping these festival odd jobs might turn into something more official next year, so I can’t really afford to say no.”
“I know, Ford. I wouldn’t want you to say no.” Mason took the paint roller from my hand. “Go. You’ve been a huge help.”
I hesitated when I got to the doorway. “When’s your date?”
“What?”
“The matchmaking? When will you meet the guy?”
“Oh. Uh, I don’t know. Nick said he might be able to set something up by next weekend. Why?”
Good question. I didn’t have an answer.
“I better go. See you later.”
I collected Charlie and headed for my pickup. It was late afternoon, just shifting toward evening, and bitterly cold.
But it was a welcome distraction from the heat that Mason stoked in me. At this point, I didn’t know what to make of it.
Did I want him, even though I’d never wanted a guy before? The kiss had rattled me. That much was clear. It had replayed in my mind more than once, and each time I’d shut it down because I was straight. Always had been.
But now my chest was tight and every time he talked about this potential date, I wanted to punch a wall.
So, did that mean I wanted him—or just that my ego was hurt that Mason wasn’t pining over me?
Working at Mason’s place was easier during the week. He’d given me a key so I could come and go while he was at work.
Sanding hardwood floors was a mind-numbing task. I put on headphones and pushed the sander, the vibrations rattling through me and giving my arms a good workout, but I could listen to music and block out all thoughts, which was a plus.
I’d made it to Wednesday afternoon, when Mason had texted to let me know he probably wouldn’t see me that evening because he was going out that evening.
I’d fought back the impulse to ask if he was going on a date.
To askhim, anyway.
But I couldn’t resist the curiosity plaguing me. I scrolled through my contacts, found Nick, and hit Call.
He answered on the second ring.
