Page 67 of I Heart Mason Cartwright
Mason
Dumbest thingI’ve done this week? Agreeing to stay at Willow’s instead of getting a hotel room or a vacation rental. Shit, even staying at my mom’s would have been smarter. Instead I’m spending the bulk of my time in a place that’s not remotely mine, trying to make AshLynn—who I can’t stand—happy. And avoid my feelings for Willow which are growing stronger every day.
Now dinner with a dress code? It’s not a special occasion or holiday. Why do we have to dress up? AshLynn, of course, bought a new outfit for tonight, and she started getting ready almost an hour ago. We still have an hour before we have to leave to meet them.
My mom is naturally pretty and low-maintenance with her beauty routine, so it wasn’t until I started dating that I realized just how long a woman can take with her pre-outing rituals. I used to find it fascinating, now I find it annoying.
I reach over to pet P-Tink, who’s sitting next to me on the edge of the deck. I’ve got a beer, P-Tink has a chew toy, and I’d say we are both pretty damn content. This has got to be one of the greatest locations for a house, ever. The serenity of the water, with the views of the city in the distance, trees all around for privacy, and just the edge of the beach connecting you to anyone else.
I’ve thought about buying another place near my mom and staying in one place for a while. But there are still so many things I want to do, so many places I want to see. A place like this though, I could stay in a place like this. For a first-time renovator, Willow has a lot of really good ideas for what she wants to do with the house. It will be amazing when she’s through. Correction, whenweare through. She credits social media for most of her ideas, but she’s talented. She has an instinct for how to best maximize space and take advantage of the natural elements already surrounding the home.
Speak of the devil.
“Hey, I just wanted to make sure you were good with tonight. You know clothing-wise.” Willow stands over me, concerned look on her face.
“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ve got something I think will work, just black slacks and a button-down, but they’re wrinkled. Do you have anything to help with that?”
“I have a steamer you can use.”
“Is that like an iron?”
She laughs. “Yes, only easier. I’ll show you how to use it.”
I stand to go into the house, P-Tink in tow.
“She really likes you,” Willow says of her dog and me.
“I think you have that backward,” I say. “I really like her.”
She smiles, almost like she’s grateful that someone likes her dog. “It’s just surprising is all. I mean, I know I haven’t had her for long, but usually she’s glued to my side when other people are around. And with you she’s different.”
I like knowing that.
I follow Willow inside the house and she shows me how to use the steamer so that I can get the wrinkles out of my clothes. I find it funny that she has a clothes steamer, but no furniture. Although, I totally get her wanting to wait and see how the house turns out before selecting furnishings.
I clean up and dress in the other spare bathroom, the one without a shower. So I make do with soap, a washcloth, and some cologne. I exit the bathroom on one side of the house, buttoning my cuffs. At the same time Willow exits the other bathroom on the opposite end of the house.
In a towel.
I watch her dart down the hall: hair pinned up, damp skin, and amazing legs. Not that I haven’t seen her legs before—I have in shorts. But something about being in a towel, fresh out of the shower, makes a girl look really fucking sexy. I don’t look away.
“I see you,” a voice says behind me. I turn spotting Zach waving a finger in my direction as though scolding me.
“I wasn’t . . . I was just . . .”
His eyebrows rise.
“Yeah, all right, but I was just looking. And it was a quick glance.”
He nods. “Hurt her, and I kill you. And by I, I mean nasty, rotten people that I hire to do my dirty work for me.”
“How will I . . . I’m—you know—engaged to her sister.”
“Right.” He draws the word out as he brushes past me, then turns. “You want to talk about that?”
Before I can answer we hear, “Mas-ey!” trill down the hall. I give Zach a chin nod and head to the room I’m supposedly sharing with AshLynn.
I knock lightly and open the door. AshLynn is standing there in a lacy bra and thong, staring at the bed. Three dresses laid out before her. Each still with the tags on.
