Page 38 of Hammered and Nailed
He included a winking emoji.
Emery: Is that all you think about?
Mason: Apparently.
I sent an eye roll emoji.
Emery: So, dinner with my parents. Yes?
Mason: I’ll be there.
When I got to their house the next evening, Mason was already there, his pickup parked in the driveway of the sprawling brick rancher I’d grown up in. The big poplar tree dominated the yard, casting shade over the lush lawn, but the tire swing Dad had installed when I was a kid was long gone. I made my way up the steps and knocked on their front door twice before opening it and heading inside.
"Mom? Dad? I’m here."
"In here, honey," Mom called.
I followed the sound of her voice through the house toward the dining room, where I spotted Mason setting the table, wearing a black button-down shirt and jeans. When he glanced over at me and we made eye contact, he darted his tongue out to wet his lower lip and my whole body heated. It was going to be a long, long dinner.
I made my way into the kitchen, adjacent to the dining room. It also hadn’t changed much since I was a kid. The walls were still a soft blue, but instead of the cabinets being the ancient pine color, they’d been painted white to look more modern. Mom was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot. Her face lit up when she saw me.
"What can I do to help?"
Mom pointed with her stirring spoon. "Go help Mason set the table. Food will be ready in a few minutes."
I swallowed hard and headed into the dining room again. "Need help?"
Mason grinned wickedly and nodded. He glanced around before reaching out and pulling me close. I stumbled a step forward, into his embrace, and he rocked me with a dizzying kiss, plunging his tongue into my mouth. I kissed him back, my heart racing—partially in fear that we’d be caught before I had a chance to say anything to them, partially because of the intensity of his kiss. Mason nipped at my bottom lip before pulling away entirely. Breathless, I adjusted my hard cock in my shorts, eyes wide. Mason just smiled again and winked at me. I flipped him off in response.
"You two okay in there? It’s awfully quiet," Mom said.
"Yeah, everything’s great," I replied, snatching the napkins from Mason’s hand to set them on the table.
Mom poked her head into the dining room and fixed me with a look. "Honey, are you sure you’re alright? You look flushed."
"I’m great, Mom. Promise."
"You know, when you were a kid and there was silence, I knew there was trouble on the horizon. You boys getting into some sort of trouble here?" Her tone was lighthearted and teasing.
"No trouble here, Mrs. Wilson," Mason assured her. She nodded, satisfied, and ducked back into the kitchen. Mason’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. I glared at him, but there was no anger in it.
A few minutes later the table was set and Mom was calling us in to fix our plates. She’d made a pot roast, and I piled my plate high with meat, stewed carrots, and mashed potatoes. When we took our seats in the dining room, Dad pulled a check out of his pocket and handed it to Mason.
"Here you go. For fixing up the cabin for me."
Mason glanced at it and shook his head. "This is too much. The materials only cost half that."
"For your time."
"You really don’t have to do that, Mr. Wilson," he protested. "I don’t mind doing it for cost."
Dad shrugged and waved his protests away. "Eat up now, before it gets cold."
Mason nodded and stuffed the check in his pocket. We all ate in silence for a moment before Mom gasped and put her fork down.
"Emery Wilson." I looked up at her and she had her eyes narrowed at me. "Are thosehickeyson your neck?"
My hand immediately went to my neck where Mason had left the marks. "No," I lied.
