Page 87 of Fallen Hearts

Mason didn’t seem inclined to elaborate. And to be honest, I wasn’t inclined to ask additional questions. The more I heard about the pact, the less I liked it.

“Interesting,” I said again, for lack of a better word to describe the whole thing. “So tell me about the meeting.”

Mason licked his lips. No wing sauce remaining there. “I can do that. Or I can take you back to my place to explore this extra hot side of you I didn’t know was there.”

Clenching at my core, marveling at Mason’s ability to make me do that so effortlessly, I decided his plan was a solid one. “And then we’ll talk about the meeting.”

“Sure,” he said, hand raised in the air for Beck’s attention. “I can tell you about it from between your legs just before I lick”—his voice lowered—“that sweet pussy of yours like you just licked wing sauce from the corner of your mouth. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Screw waiting.

“Hey Beck,” I yelled across the bar. “Check, please.”

Mason’s low rumble of a laugh forced a smile from me, despite all that I’d learned about his future plans and college bachelor pact.

Problems for another day.

29

MASON

“Can I suggest some activities in the area?”

One of our Saturday check-in guests had just arrived. Although there was a self-check-in process—guests receiving instructions prior to arrival about their room and amenities, along with the key procedure—my father tried to greet everyone upon arrival. It wasn’t always possible since he stubbornly refused to hire someone just for that purpose, and though we still used his system, Pia and I had discussed modernizing it. Hiring someone at least during the day made sense.

Especially if I went back to the city.

“Sure,” the wife said. At least, I assumed they were married. Assumptions could be dangerous, though. Something I knew better than most. “We’re only in town for a night and have a few wineries planned this afternoon.”

“Tell me what wineries. And do you have a reservation yet for dinner?”

I talked to them for a few minutes, guided them to a different winery for their last stop and made a dinner suggestion. They left, holding hands and looking quite happy.

With no renovations on the schedule today for a change, I’d been looking forward to catching up with paperwork. And taking Pia out later tonight. It was only two hours into the paperwork that I regretted actually looking forward to it. Heritage Hill was going to need a miracle to get out of debt, and I’d turned down an incredibly generous offer last night.

“You really need an office,” Parker said, coming into the kitchen.

“I had one. Gave it to Pia.”

“Right.” Parker pulled a soda from the fridge. “But there’s plenty of places to set up another one in this place. Besides the kitchen.”

“I like the kitchen.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Job end early?”

Parker had planned to work all day. Plus we needed materials to start the windows—our next order of business on the punch list—hence the day off.

“Jack fucked up the kitchen cabinet order for our house. Not much left we can do without them, so…” He shrugged. “Afternoon off.”

“You really need to ditch him and get something going of your own.”

He waved me away. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll do that when you decide on a career yourself. Heard about the sale.” Sitting on a stool at the island, he cracked his knuckles… a habit of his that drove me nuts.

“One big decision at a time.”

“How much?”

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