Page 34 of Christmas With The Broken Mountain Man
The band shifts to a slow rendition of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," and Mason extends his hand. "Dance with me?"
I take his hand without hesitation, letting him lead me to the dance floor. His arm circles my waist, drawing me close as we begin to sway to the music. The familiar scent of his cologne envelops me—pine and leather and something uniquely Mason. I rest my head against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat.
"You look beautiful tonight," he murmurs into my hair. "Every man in this room is jealous."
"Let them be." I tilt my face up to his. "I only want one."
Something flashes in his eyes—possession, desire, something deeper I'm not ready to name. His hand tightens at my waist.
"Have I mentioned how much I like that dress?" His voice drops lower, just for me.
"You might have said something." I smile, enjoying his appreciation. "Wait till you see what's underneath."
His eyes darken. "Tease."
"Promise." I press closer, feeling his immediate physical response. "Maybe we should leave early."
"Don't tempt me." He spins me in a slow circle, bringing me back to his chest with practiced ease. "We just got here."
We dance through three songs, lost in our own world. The party continues around us, but all I see is Mason—the curve of his smile, the warmth in his eyes, the way he holds me like I'm something precious.
"I need to use the ladies' room," I tell him after our third dance. "I'll be right back."
"Want me to walk you?"
"It's twenty feet away." I nod toward the hallway. "I think I'll manage."
He hesitates, torn between protectiveness and not wanting to be overbearing. "Two minutes, then I'm sending a search party."
"Duly noted." I press a quick kiss to his lips before slipping away.
The hallway is quieter than the gymnasium, the music fading to a dull thrum as I make my way to the restroom. I'm washing my hands when the door opens and Riley enters, her cheeks flushed from dancing.
"Having fun?" she asks, touching up her lipstick in the mirror.
"The best." I dry my hands on a paper towel. "Thank you for inviting us."
"Are you kidding? The whole town's been waiting for Mason to find someone." She caps her lipstick, turning to face me fully. "He's different with you. Lighter somehow."
"I'm different with him too." The admission comes easily. "He makes me feel... possible."
Riley's expression softens with understanding. "Jax had the same effect on me. After what I went through with my ex, I didn't think I could trust anyone again. Then this grumpy mountain man barged into my life and proved me wrong."
The parallel to my own situation is striking. "How did you know it was real? That you could trust it?"
"I didn't, at first." She leans against the sink. "I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop—for him to show his true colors, to try to control me like my ex did. But it never happened. Instead, he just... loved me. Consistently, patiently, without demands or expectations."
Her words resonate deeply. Mason has been nothing but supportive, protective without being controlling, caring without being suffocating.
"It's only been a week," I say, voicing my deepest fear. "How can something this intense be real in such a short time?"
"Some connections don't follow normal timelines." Riley squeezes my arm gently. "When you know, you know. Trust that feeling, Destiny."
I want to. God, I want to so badly. But years of conditioning under Greg's manipulation make me wary of my own emotions, my own judgment.
"I should get back," I say, not ready to examine these feelings too closely. "Mason's probably scanning the exits by now."
Riley laughs. "That man is head over heels for you. It's adorable."
