Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Mason was there with a shovel in his hands, shirtless and wearing grey work pants. He was leveling out a sizable patch of dirt. The sun radiated down, highlighting his tan skin and the golden parts of his hair, making him look like a rugged, fallen angel, hard at work.
Desire curled through me the moment my eyes landed on him.
“Finn?” he asked, dragging his shovel over the dirt again. “I thought my massage appointment was tomorrow—”
He turned fully to see me then, doing a quick double take. His eyes hit mine. There was no turning back now.
Here goes nothing.
I held up the bag of food, shaking it in the air. “I brought you something.”
“You’re not Finn,” he said.
His brow furrowed.
After last night—and after reading that bitch of an article—I’d half expected him to come right to my arms for a hug when I showed up.
That… definitely wasn’t happening.
“Not Finn. Sorry to disappoint,” I told him, pausing across the yard from him.
I bit the inside of my cheek as I felt a little sweat come down the center of my back.
Yeah. He was surprised to see me. Maybe even a little standoffish at the idea of me showing up unannounced. Even from here I could see circles beneath his eyes, and his hair was messy like he’d just woken up. Maybe Kane was right about him taking a nap.
…And maybe I was stupid to show up at a man’s house out of nowhere.
A man who I barely knew, even if I’d felt some strange connection to him for one night.
Not your brightest idea ever, Sanocki.
Mason shoved the tip of the shovel into the dirt beside him, leaning on it and dragging his boot through the dirt before looking back up at me.
“I like the pink,” he finally said.
His eyes landed on my chest and then my forearms. I was wearing a light pink button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up—I’d wanted to look good for the first day of classes, even though there was no real need for it.
My shoes sank softly into the lush grass as I crossed over the lawn. Closer toward the house, there was a big, fancy stainless steel grill under an awning. The shimmering blue of a curved pool glinted in the sun, and there was a fire pit over on that end, too.
Mason had his own little resort paradise back here.
“Who’s Finn?” I asked, stepping onto the dirt patch where he was standing.
His baby blues landed on me, watching me close. “My friend.”
I held up a hand. “Alright, alright. Not going to pry.”
“He’s a massage therapist. Helps out with the horses most mornings around 6, too, when I’m still sleeping.”
“I can pretend to be him,” I offered, trying for a joke. “Want a massage?”
Mason clicked his tongue, leaning on the end of his shovel. “Nice try.”
His chest was broad and glistening with sweat from his work. His nipples hardened as a breeze went by, and I tried not to stare.
“What’s with the shovel?” I asked, nodding at the dirt.
“Oh. It’s hot tub time,” Mason said. “I’ve been putting off clearing a spot for one. God, something smells good. What is that?”
“Well, I brought you a sandwich and a cinnamon roll from Red Fox,” I said, “but now I’m wondering if that was the wrong idea.”
His expression softened a little, and he nodded down at the bag, surprised. “That’s nice of you.”
“Listen, I was at the diner and I saw that shitty fucking article, and—”
Mason waved me off, standing up straight again and grabbing the shovel. He pitched it into the dirt, slamming it harder than before.
“Don’t tell me Kane sent you with food because he was worried about me.”
“No, I got you lunch,” I said. “Because that article was bullshit, and because I wanted to bring you food. It’s just lunch. It’s no big deal.”
“Just a dumb newspaper.”
“But it’s okay to be pissed or hurt about it,” I said. “The shit that guy said about you. Do you even know who he is? Does he even know you?”
He furrowed his brow, looking off toward the far-off mountains and then back at me. “I’ve met him. Many times. Dad used to have him over for dinner here sometimes. I always thought of him like an uncle, growing up, but now he’s just an asshole.”
“Kind of makes me want to go find him and punch him,” I said.
He kept leveling out the dirt patch as I stood there. I watched his biceps and torso strain with the exertion, as he channeled all of his frustration into physical labor.
He finally stopped, taking a deep breath and pushing the shovel back into the earth.
“That’s really nice of you, Jesse. And bringing the food, too. Thank you.”
My stomach hardened. “Okay. I’m gonna drop this on the table and go. Thought you might want company, but I can see that you don’t.”