Thirty-Two and a Half Complications
Page 12
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“I want you to come to Thanksgiving dinner at my place.”
“Uh…”
“Give me one good reason why you can’t come.”
He didn’t answer.
“Then it’s settled.” I smiled, finally feeling happy about my first Thanksgiving dinner. “David’s invited too.”
“What about Mason?”
“Mason will love to have you there.” And I had no doubt that it was true. He would welcome them both. That’s one of the things I loved about Mason. While Joe looked down on Bruce Wayne as a man with a criminal record, Mason saw the same potential in him that I recognized. No, Mason wouldn’t be an issue.
It was Violet who worried me.
***
Chapter Four
Several hours later I stood at the entrance to Mason’s office, holding our lunch in two paper bags.
He was sitting hunched over a notepad on his desk, his pen in mid-stroke, when he sensed me in the doorway. A warm smile spread across his face. “I thought I smelled something good.”
I walked over to him and set the bags on the one small empty spot on his desk. “I know you’re smelling Merilee’s pork chops and not me. I’ve been digging up shrubs.”
He glanced up at me with a hungry look. “I thought you promised me a closed-door lunch.”
My stomach quivered. I loved how he could set me aflutter with nothing more than a look and a few words. “I guess you’re wanting me to shut the door then?” I teased.
“Yes.”
I turned around and closed it, then whirled around to face him. “I’m hungry.”
“So am I.” His voice was low and sexy.
The fluttering in my stomach increased. “Mason, your secretary is right outside that door!”
“May I remind you that you were the one to suggest the closed door?” He stood and hobbled toward me, then pulled me into his arms, his mouth hovering a half-inch from mine. “We can be quiet.” He kissed me and my knees went weak, which almost made me forget how hungry I was until my stomach growled loud enough for him to hear.
He lifted his head and laughed. “Your stomach has spoken. Let’s eat. So you brought me pork chops?”
“It’s your favorite, right?”
Mason gave me a quick peck on the mouth and took my hand. “You spoil me, Rose.”
“Isn’t that a girlfriend’s job?”
“Well, you do it exceptionally well.”
I grinned as we sat down and parceled out the food. “How’d the deposition go?”
He groaned. “I’d rather talk about your morning.”
“I don’t know that mine went much better.” I handed him a napkin and plastic ware. “Violet didn’t take the news about the money very well.”
“Then Violet should have made the deposit last night like she was supposed to.”
I glanced up at him in surprise.
“What?” he asked, stabbing the lettuce in the salad that went with his pork chops. “I pay attention to how you run the nursery. Violet handles the store and the books, including the deposits. You handle the landscaping jobs, deliveries, and collecting money from the job sites.”
He had paid attention. “She asked me to host Thanksgiving dinner this year, and I said yes. I hope that’s okay.”
“That depends on whether you agreed because you wanted to host it or because she guilted you into it.”
I lifted my club sandwich. “I wanted to do it. It’s going to be our first Thanksgiving together.” I offered him a soft smile. “I’d rather have it at the farm than at Momma’s house.”
“You know,” he said, scooping up a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “It’s telling how quickly you stopped calling it your home and started calling it your momma’s house. You made the switch practically minutes after you decided to move to the farm.”
I hadn’t thought about it, but he was right.
He lifted his fork. “I’m just glad—for your sake—that you decided not to sell the farm.”
Me too, even though we could have used the money for the nursery.
Mason grinned. “I love the idea of having Thanksgiving dinner at the farm, but you know I’ve existed on take-out for nearly a decade and can barely boil an egg. I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.”
“Violet’s going to bring some dishes too.”
He hesitated. “Would you mind if my mother came? This could be a good opportunity for her to visit. She’s mentioned coming down to help me find a place to live once I get my settlement, and I think they’re finally close to cutting a check. She can start screening places.”
His words sobered me. After the Crocker mess died down, I’d suggested he move in with me until he found a new place. We’d never intended for it to be a permanent situation, but the thought of him moving out made me sad.
I forced a smile. “Of course. I love your mother.” And I did. I’d met her twice now. The first time was before Mason and I started dating, when I was still with Joe. She’d been so kind to me, a sharp contrast to Joe’s mother, whom I met the following night. The second time I met Mrs. Deveraux was when Mason was in the hospital after our final showdown with Daniel Crocker. She’d pulled me into a hug and thanked me for saving him, tears running down her cheeks. Mrs. Deveraux had already lost her husband and daughter. I couldn’t stand the thought of her being home alone for the holiday. “Do you think she’d like to stay with us?”
“Uh…”
“Give me one good reason why you can’t come.”
He didn’t answer.
“Then it’s settled.” I smiled, finally feeling happy about my first Thanksgiving dinner. “David’s invited too.”
“What about Mason?”
“Mason will love to have you there.” And I had no doubt that it was true. He would welcome them both. That’s one of the things I loved about Mason. While Joe looked down on Bruce Wayne as a man with a criminal record, Mason saw the same potential in him that I recognized. No, Mason wouldn’t be an issue.
It was Violet who worried me.
***
Chapter Four
Several hours later I stood at the entrance to Mason’s office, holding our lunch in two paper bags.
He was sitting hunched over a notepad on his desk, his pen in mid-stroke, when he sensed me in the doorway. A warm smile spread across his face. “I thought I smelled something good.”
I walked over to him and set the bags on the one small empty spot on his desk. “I know you’re smelling Merilee’s pork chops and not me. I’ve been digging up shrubs.”
He glanced up at me with a hungry look. “I thought you promised me a closed-door lunch.”
My stomach quivered. I loved how he could set me aflutter with nothing more than a look and a few words. “I guess you’re wanting me to shut the door then?” I teased.
“Yes.”
I turned around and closed it, then whirled around to face him. “I’m hungry.”
“So am I.” His voice was low and sexy.
The fluttering in my stomach increased. “Mason, your secretary is right outside that door!”
“May I remind you that you were the one to suggest the closed door?” He stood and hobbled toward me, then pulled me into his arms, his mouth hovering a half-inch from mine. “We can be quiet.” He kissed me and my knees went weak, which almost made me forget how hungry I was until my stomach growled loud enough for him to hear.
He lifted his head and laughed. “Your stomach has spoken. Let’s eat. So you brought me pork chops?”
“It’s your favorite, right?”
Mason gave me a quick peck on the mouth and took my hand. “You spoil me, Rose.”
“Isn’t that a girlfriend’s job?”
“Well, you do it exceptionally well.”
I grinned as we sat down and parceled out the food. “How’d the deposition go?”
He groaned. “I’d rather talk about your morning.”
“I don’t know that mine went much better.” I handed him a napkin and plastic ware. “Violet didn’t take the news about the money very well.”
“Then Violet should have made the deposit last night like she was supposed to.”
I glanced up at him in surprise.
“What?” he asked, stabbing the lettuce in the salad that went with his pork chops. “I pay attention to how you run the nursery. Violet handles the store and the books, including the deposits. You handle the landscaping jobs, deliveries, and collecting money from the job sites.”
He had paid attention. “She asked me to host Thanksgiving dinner this year, and I said yes. I hope that’s okay.”
“That depends on whether you agreed because you wanted to host it or because she guilted you into it.”
I lifted my club sandwich. “I wanted to do it. It’s going to be our first Thanksgiving together.” I offered him a soft smile. “I’d rather have it at the farm than at Momma’s house.”
“You know,” he said, scooping up a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “It’s telling how quickly you stopped calling it your home and started calling it your momma’s house. You made the switch practically minutes after you decided to move to the farm.”
I hadn’t thought about it, but he was right.
He lifted his fork. “I’m just glad—for your sake—that you decided not to sell the farm.”
Me too, even though we could have used the money for the nursery.
Mason grinned. “I love the idea of having Thanksgiving dinner at the farm, but you know I’ve existed on take-out for nearly a decade and can barely boil an egg. I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.”
“Violet’s going to bring some dishes too.”
He hesitated. “Would you mind if my mother came? This could be a good opportunity for her to visit. She’s mentioned coming down to help me find a place to live once I get my settlement, and I think they’re finally close to cutting a check. She can start screening places.”
His words sobered me. After the Crocker mess died down, I’d suggested he move in with me until he found a new place. We’d never intended for it to be a permanent situation, but the thought of him moving out made me sad.
I forced a smile. “Of course. I love your mother.” And I did. I’d met her twice now. The first time was before Mason and I started dating, when I was still with Joe. She’d been so kind to me, a sharp contrast to Joe’s mother, whom I met the following night. The second time I met Mrs. Deveraux was when Mason was in the hospital after our final showdown with Daniel Crocker. She’d pulled me into a hug and thanked me for saving him, tears running down her cheeks. Mrs. Deveraux had already lost her husband and daughter. I couldn’t stand the thought of her being home alone for the holiday. “Do you think she’d like to stay with us?”
