Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 104458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
It would definitely give her the wrong idea. And while Mason had been forced to do a lot of shitty things in his life, he had never deliberately hurt a woman, and he feared that this path would only lead to pain for Daisy McGregor. She was too damned nice to be hanging out with a guy like him. He had tried the long-term relationship thing and decided it wasn’t for him. These days, he tended to fuck and flee, and maybe that made him an asshole, but the women he usually associated with knew what to expect from him. They were happy enough with the short-term arrangements he preferred. Somehow, he didn’t think Daisy McGregor was the kind of woman who indulged in that type of fleeting sexual encounter. Still, he was committed to this now and had to see it through, so he beckoned the waiter over and quietly requested the bill, asking the guy to include Daisy’s drinks on his tab.
“My drinks have been covered . . . Hen night,” she elaborated for the waiter, who nodded his understanding. “Anything in addition to that will be taken care of by my sister. The bombshell in purple over there.”
“No problem, ma’am,” the guy responded and then asked Mason to hold on for a couple of minutes while he retrieved the bill.
Mason and Daisy stood waiting without speaking, the ease of the last few minutes suddenly replaced by a weird tension and awkwardness that told him she was as uncertain about this so-called date thing as he was. Mason was thinking of ways to back out gracefully when Daisy, with the forthrightness that he was beginning to recognize was stock in trade for her, just came out and said exactly what he’d been thinking.
“This probably isn’t a good idea. I won’t hold you to it,” she said with a rueful smile, and he noticed her dimples for the first time. They were cute as hell.
“What do you mean?” he asked perversely, despite knowing exactly what she’d meant.
“I mean going to MJ’s with you is a dumb idea; we should both just head home.”
“I don’t think it’s a dumb idea, and you’re not getting out of it that easily.” Mason was aghast to hear the words cross his lips, and he wondered why the hell he had uttered them when he basically agreed with everything she had just said.
“I’m just saying that we’ve probably exhausted all topics of—” He interrupted her before she could finish her sentence.
“Nonsense. We’re going to MJ’s.”
“Anybody ever tell you that you’re incredibly bossy?” she asked, not doing anything to disguise the irritation in her voice, and he grinned.
“All the time.”
“Fine, but I’m calling it now, this is probably the worst idea in the history of the world.”
“Anybody ever tell you that you have a tendency to exaggerate?” he fired back at her, and she shoved her dark-rimmed glasses back up her nose and rolled her eyes.
“About a billion times a day.” He grinned at her response. The waiter returned with his bill, and Daisy excused herself to go to the powder room.
“Hey, Daisy,” he called as she turned away from him. She stopped and glanced back over her shoulder. “No ducking out the bathroom window.”
She snorted and waved her hand dismissively before walking away.
“I’ll wait outside,” he said as she headed toward the back of the pub. She held one thumb up to signal that she’d heard him but didn’t look at him again.
Mason settled his bill, leaving a hefty tip for the grateful waiter, and grabbed up his leather jacket before heading out the door. He stood just outside the pub, facing the empty street as he listened to the muffled sounds of laughter and music coming from inside. Riversend had a population of only about three thousand permanent residents. It was very much a summer tourist destination, and the quiet little town went into hibernation during winter. There was no nightlife to speak of, and most people commuted to the larger outlying towns for work every day. Mason appreciated the tranquility of the place so much more now than when he was a restless, borderline-delinquent kid. And even though the years away had defined his character and broadened his worldview considerably, it was good to be home. Back when he was a kid, he had felt trapped, but now—knowing that he could leave any time he wanted to—he felt a sense of belonging.
Aside from the bustling pub behind him and the bright light coming from the always-busy MJ’s farther down the street, the tiny town’s main road was quiet. Riversend was sleepy and peaceful and—after years of violence and craziness—exactly what Mason needed.
It was a brisk late May evening, and he could see his breath misting in front of his face. The cloud of steam was reminiscent of smoke and made him yearn for one of the cigarettes he had given up more than a year ago. He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and swayed back and forth on his heels as he continued to wait.