"Is that why I haven't seen you at the bar?" He stuck his hands in his pockets, a casual motion, but there was a real hint of curiosity behind the words. "You live too far away?"
Truthfully, the apartment I was subletting for a few months wasn't too far away from the bar, but…
"Were you planning on seeing me again?" I asked.
"I would have liked to." There was no teasing in his voice, nothing suggestive, but from the way his eyes glinted, I knew he was thinking about what might have happened if I had come by again.
Mason was definitely up for round two.
I fought a flush and fiddled with the leashes, securing them around my wrist.
"Do you really own this many dogs?" he asked.
"I'm dog-walking," I explained.
"Can I pet them?" he asked.
I nodded.
Mason knelt down and gave the Pomeranian a vigorous rub up and down his back.
"Who's a good boy?" he cooed with a boyish grin.
The dog's tail wagging increased tenfold. He licked at Mason's hands, slobbering all over him, but Mason didn't seem to mind. Instead, his grin grew wider.
"You really love dogs," I noted.
"I love all animals," he told me, looking up from his crouch. "I always wanted a pet, especially a dog, but my parents…" He trailed off, his eyes going dark as a cloudy expression crossed his face. Then he gave a little shrug and returned to petting the dogs. "I'd love to have a job where I get to play with these little guys all day."
"It's just a side gig," I explained, wondering at his reaction. "I've got to get to my real job before noon."
"That's a better start to the day than mine." Mason stood back up and wiped off his hands by rubbing them on his thighs, leaving dog saliva and fur all over his jeans. "I just spent an hour fighting with the bank. Running around with these guys at a dog park would be the highlight of my day."
"Do you want to come with me?" I said.
I hadn't planned on saying it. The words just came out. But the moment they left my mouth, I realized I meant them. I wanted to continue talking with Hottie Mason.
It wasn't just because I was planning on round two. It was the childlike enthusiasm he'd shown when petting the dogs. It was the straightforward way he'd said he had hoped to see me again.
And it was the note of regret in his voice when he mentioned his parents. What had put that regret there?
Mason looked to me with surprise before his lips curled in a smile.
"I'd love to come, if you think they won't mind me tagging along," he replied.
The dogs were currently winding themselves around Mason's feet and pawing at his legs, apparently wanting more petting and scratching.
"I think they'd be happy to spend more time with you," I said.
From the look he gave me, Mason and I both knew I wasn't only talking about the dogs.
Four
"So if thisis your side gig, what's your main gig?" Mason asked.
The dogs seemed content to walk at a more sedate pace now that Mason was with us. I had no idea why the Pomeranian zoomed like a maniac when I was in charge, but after Mason offered to hold his leash, he'd calmed down to trot easily at his side. Maybe the dog just liked him better.
"Traitor," I mumbled under my breath.