Page 39 of Game Plan

Andie woke to a face full of fur. “Good morning, pretty kitty.” Hugo purred his reply from his position above her head, his tail swishing across her cheek to tickle her nose. “Where’s your master?” And hers, for that matter.

Thanks to Mary’s alcohol-induced temporary insanity, they’d left the party before the fireworks display over the lake. After listening to the cracks and booms from his back deck last night, he’d suggested a shower before bed. She’d climbed in first. Mason had followed, carrying the tie from his bathrobe, with which he’d promptly secured her to the showerhead on the wall.

First he’d used the handheld sprayer to make her come. He’d barely let her recover from the first orgasm before pulsing his tongue against her clit for a second. Then, hands still tied above her head and surrounded by mist and steam, he’d scooped her legs around his waist and fucked her against the tile wall. And it wasn’t evenherbirthday.

She reached across the empty half of the bed, smiling as she grabbed for the clock. He’d flipped the face away when she pointed out that at half past twelve his birthday privileges had expired. They both knew the calendar date had nothing to do with her willingness.

Her arm brushed over a piece of paper, a note tucked under the edge of his pillow. A note with her name on it. She already knew he was at the clinic. They hadn’t given in to exhaustion until close to two, and he’d chosenthento tell her he had to be at work at seven. To tend to patients and boarders, a job his tech usually did. But being the incredible person that he was, he’d offered to fill in so she could go away for the long weekend. Even though it was his birthday.

Andie righted the clock and groaned. Quarter after eight. She glared at the uncovered window and the shafts of sunlight hitting the bed. Bare naked, he didn’t even have a curtain rod mounted. There had to be time in her schedule to make Mason some bedroom curtains. Whoa…that tangent needed reining in.

The man was a morning person. He got up early and didn’t require window coverings. Staying over once did not mean redecorating. Hell, she could sleep over every night for the next two weeks and it still wasn’t her place to make changes to Mason’s house. Because fourteen days from now she’d be gone. Back to her regularly scheduled life as a responsible, single mother. Sleeping in her own bed in a properly darkened room—alone.

She pushed the crappy thought away. Goose bumps rose as she dragged the edge of the note across her breasts, enjoying the scrape and tickle of the thick, stiff paper. Two words that also described Mason’s cock quite nicely. Every muscle ached, but it didn’t stop her needy parts from humming while thinking about him.

Mason had mentioned spending a lazy Sunday together. By lazy she hoped he meant lying on his back while she rode him three different ways. There were still plenty of things she wanted to try. She unfolded the note—maybe it’d tell her what time he’d be back, so they could get to work on that list.

Good Morning, Beautiful.

Leaving you alone in a bed is a tragedy.

XXO

(Is there a symbol for fucking? If not, there should be, so I can add it to every note I’m going to write you.)

“Oh god.” She pressed the paper to her chest, then read it again. And six more times before having a squealing fit between Mason’s sheets that sent Hugo running. Call her a hopelessly romantic sixteen-year-old…this note was going in her keeper box.

Chapter Nine

ANDIE

Andie opened the door expecting to find Katie on the other side. Alone, or maybe with a bridesmaid or two in tow. Instead she got Katie and Mary—and the urge to sneak a shot of Frangelico into her coffee.

“Please, come on in.” She ushered them through the house to the basement, where her dressmaking shop lived. The route bypassed most of the main-floor rooms, but she didn’t miss the way Mary gaped at the parts she could see. Including the lower level as they made their way down. Scott had insisted that every inch of the house be top-notch. Appropriate for a family of their standing. Gag.

Andie had two rooms in the walkout basement—one for client meetings and one for sewing. Both had large windows overlooking the professionally landscaped yard. The place was impressive, embarrassingly so.

The client area had a small sofa and a couple of chairs. Her visitors sat together, one relaxed and the other stiff. No big surprise there. Katie had stopped by Mason’s last Sunday afternoon, embarrassed and apologizing for her mother’s drunken behavior. When questioned by her big brother, she’d admitted that the sorry didn’t come from her mother. In the four days since, Mary hadn’t attempted to contact Andie. In a way, she respected that. An insincere apology was worse than no apology.

But today’s visit was business.Herbusiness, and she excelled at it. For the time being they were prospective customers, nothing more. She set a few albums on the table and pulled a chair across from them. Flipped open the first book and starting the walk-through, beginning with her most impressive jobs. She had Katie hooked after the first page. Mary appeared to be on board by the second set of shots.

They discussed styles and fabrics. Looked at swatches, pattern catalogues and bridal magazines. Andie sketched a couple of details from her head as the creative buzz took over. The gowns Katie wanted would be stunning once Andie had finished with them.

“You’ve come a long way from hemming pants in that single, tiny room.” Mary surveyed the upscale furniture and plush carpeting, her eyes landing on Andie’s desk and the framed photos there.

Back to that again, were they? “You’re right. It took a lot of hard work and commitment to get to this point.”

“And a wealthy husband.”

“Mom.” Katie leapt from the couch. “Stop being a bitch. Andie’s been nothing but nice to you. I like her. Mason really likes her. What’s your problem?”

Mary’s mouth tightened to a thin line. The gesture added years to her appearance. Andie made a mental note never to allow that expression to cross her face, especially ten to fifteen years from now, when she’d be Mary’s age.

“Katie, go easy on your mom. She’s upset because I’m not the ideal woman for Mason. I understand her concern.” She scooped the photo albums into her arms like a security blanket. “But Mary, you’re worried over nothing. I’m only dating him. It’s casual, not permanent.”

“So you’re using him.”

“That’s not what I meant at all.” Which didn’t make it any less true. She needed a new tactic. One that didn’t focus onher. “He likes me, yes, and I like him. We’re enjoying each other’s company right now, but I have no long-term expectations. I’m mature enough to know he’s not about to fall in love with me or get down on one knee.” She finished with a light laugh that neither woman returned.

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