Page 20 of Grateful for You
Piper
The remainder of the meal was surprisingly painless. I felt weirdly at peace and safe here in this house. I had no idea whether to attribute that to Mason’s hand on my back, Athena at my feet, or simply the fact that, by finally facing my monster head on, I had come to realize he wasn’t as scary as I thought.
Yes, he could hurt me. Perhaps, he could bruise me. Mark me. Scar me. But this time, for the first time, I would bruise him back.
As we finished eating the main course, Mason half stood, pouring more wine into everyone’s glasses. Carey placed a palm over her glass and shook her head. “Someone’s got to drive all these guys home.”
Mason laughed and nodded. “Guess that means my driveway will be full of your cars for the evening.”
“Hell yeah,” Wren laughed, patting his palms to his stomach.
As Mason’s bottle hovered over John’s wine glass, pouring another drink, he asked, “Where are you visiting from, John?” Mason smiled again—that damn smile that could win the hearts of men and women alike.
“Washington, DC. Just passing through.”
My breath hitched as Mason paused, pulling the wine bottle up and glancing at John carefully. I was impressed by his composure… if I hadn’t known Mason and been watching him so closely for the last twenty-four hours, I wouldn’t have noticed the pinch of awareness in his body language.
“Oh, yeah? What do you do down there?”
“I’m the top-selling real estate agent in Arlington.”
I had to physically restrain myself from rolling my eyes at him. How many times had I heard him identify himself that way? He couldn’t just say:I’m in real estate.
Beside me, Mason inhaled sharply, and as his breath hitched, I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face. The questions radiating off of him were so potent—and I knew the second I made eye contact, the truth would be written all over my face. This bravado I’d been holding onto so well would shatter like the top of crème brûlée.
“I heard that it’s currently a seller’s market…” Mason said, bating John.
“Oh, that’s a misnomer. The market speaks to every seller, you just have to be listening.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.Beneath the table, Mason’s hand skimmed my knee and gave me a little squeeze. I blinked, tears threatening, burning the backs of my eyes as I glanced over at him for the first time since the conversation started.
In that gaze, I didn’t see anger or betrayal over the fact that I hadn’t told him… I only saw compassion. And concern.
Mason’s brother broke the moment of silence. “Isn’t that what you said you used to do, Piper?”
I cleared my throat and, beneath the table, threaded my fingers into Mason’s. “I did. For years until my partner cheated me out of my promotion.”
John snorted. “When you play the game right, no one can cheat you out of anything if you don’t let them.”
I gave a small laugh—a simple exhale through my nose. “You would think, wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t think, Iknow.”
Of course you do, you arrogant son of a bitch.
“No one can cheat you out of anything if you fight for it hard enough,” he continued.
I smiled back at him in that same arrogantly disarming way he did to me for years. “Some things,” I said, “aren’t worth fighting for.” We stayed locked in that combative stare for a few seconds before I gave Mason’s fingers a quick squeeze and stood. “Who’s ready for pie?”
The tension around the table had grown thick and even Wren, who seemed like a pretty carefree, clueless guy seemed to be picking up on the fact that something was terribly wrong here.
“I’ll help you,” Mason said, standing.
“No, no,” John said, tossing his napkin onto his plate and stacking it with Carey’s and Wren’s empty plates. “Let me. You’ve done plenty, hosting today. Taking a bunch of strangers into your home.”
“Stranger,” Mason said, his voice darker than I’d ever heard it. “Singular. Everyone else at this table is a friend… ormore.”
“Right,” John said. “Silly me.”
