“Rachel!” He watched Rachel’s eyes twinkle and look from Lena’s face up to him.
“What? It’s true.”
“It’s irrelevant. I told you her name was Lena and you’ll leave it at that.”
Rolling her eyes, Rachel walked to stand on the other side of their mother’s bed. She leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “How you doing today, Mom?”
He watched as his mother reached up and patted Rachel’s cheek. “I’m doing great, sweetheart. I like the purple,” she said, fingering the tips of Rachel’s hair. “Very dramatic.”
“Thanks! Charlie hates it but is that my fault? No. And like I told him, it’s only hair and if he doesn’t quit calling me Barney I’m going to shave my head and he can start calling me Sinead instead.”
Lena glanced up at Mason, overwhelmed. He couldn’t blame her; Rachel was a handful and a whirlwind. Usually when someone first met her they spent the whole time trying to decide if she crazy or insane. The short answer was yes, to both.
“Stop flapping your mouth for a second Rachel and let me introduce you properly. Dr. Lena O’Donnell, this is my baby sister and head pastry chef, Rachel,” he told her, slightly exasperated.
Lena nodded. “That’s why you seem so familiar. I saw you that first night when . . .” she trailed off and was going leave it at that but no such luck—Rachel was right there to bury him.
“When he kicked you out after like, what was it Mase, fifteen minutes? If that?”
He heard his mother gasp and looked down to see the questions in her eyes. Just when he thought Lena would fly off the handle and storm out in a fit of rage, she did the complete opposite. She burst into laughter. Loud laughter, and he saw that she was nodding at Rachel, who too was laughing as if they’d shared the best joke in the world.
“Oh,” Lena said clutching her side, “That was a horrible night. He was so mad at me.” Then she started laughing again, “He didn’t have a clue what my name was.”
Rachel chuckled then nodded her head. “I remember him telling me that and he also told me you Googled him. I knew right then I’d like you.”
Lena looked at him with pure joy in her eyes and all of a sudden he didn’t mind that her hilarity was at his expense. He grinned and she mouthed at him silently, she likes me.
Leaning over, he kissed her by her ear and whispered, “So do I.” He felt her shiver a little, and then his mother asked, “You’re on Google, Mason?”
And with that, they all burst out laughing.
Chapter Seventeen
A few days later, Mason called asking if she’d be free anytime this week. Lena had told him she was off on Friday and Monday this week, so he invited her down to the restaurant on Thursday night. She wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea. After all, Exquisite was the place where things tended to go downhill for them. Every time she set foot in that place, she seemed to end up leaving in shame. However, things felt different between them now. When she’d left to go back to her office after visiting with his mother and sister, he’d leaned over and kissed her gently, telling her that he’d see her after work. At first she was going to tell him she couldn’t because she had work the next day but then he reminded her, the flower shop.
So for the last few evenings she’d gone down to Precious Petals and closed shop with him and then they had driven over to see Carly. It was amazing how every day it got a little bit easier. Still, she didn’t think she could do it on her own yet. Just knowing he was in the car, or sometimes he came up with her to the resting site, gave her the courage she needed to go over and just, be.
So she’d called him back this morning and agreed to come down.
“So what time did you want me there?” Lena asked.
“As soon as you can be here. I’m manning the bar tonight so I wouldn’t mind you sitting in one corner for me to look at.”
“That’s a little bit of a sexist comment, don’t you think?”
She heard him laugh softly. “How is it sexist? I’m not saying you can’t sit there and look at me all night as well.”
Sighing, she answered with feigned annoyance. “Oh, all right, then. I’ll try to be there by seven.”
So here she was.
Mason noticed her the minute she stepped through the door. She had a different feel to her tonight than she had before. She seemed calm. He watched as she scanned the dining room, looking for him no doubt, when her eyes finally moved to the bar and locked with his. Raising a small hand, she waved in his direction. Feeling a smile slide onto his face, he beckoned for her to come over with a raised hand. He watched as she made her way toward him. Tonight she was in a bright siren red dress. It was cut straight and high across her collarbone and had sleeves that came down three quarters of her arm. The dress hugged her breasts and nipped in at the waist before falling gently off the hip to land mid-thigh. As she walked, the dress swished around her legs and gently brushed by her thighs, drawing his eyes down her legs. Her hair, he noticed, was pulled back at the nape of her neck and seemed to be twisted some way to remain contained in a loose bun. Altogether, the end result was sophisticated and sexy as hell. Finally, she stopped at the end of the bar and smiled slowly at him.
“Evening, Lena.”
Her lips, which were slicked with the same shade of red as her dress, pulled up a notch in a smile that almost took his breath away. “Evening, Langley.”
“You look amazing.”
She looked him over quickly, and then her pretty green eyes came back to land on his. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” She paused and then asked softly, “Where should I sit?”
Mason looked down the bar and noticed no one needed his immediate help. He then turned back to face her. He walked over to the very end of the counter and stopped, leaning his hip into the curve of it.
“I reserved this seat just for you,” he said with a grin. She followed him over and around the very end to the stool that would have her facing down the bar.
“Thank you.”
“Hmm, you’re welcome,” he replied as she hitched herself onto the chair, flashing him a glimpse of a smooth naked thigh. “You’re going to distract me tonight in that dress.”
Placing her small black clutch on the counter, she rested her arms on the bar. “Am I?”
“You know you are. That dress is a killer, Lena.”
She laughed at him softly with such carefree joy in her voice it gently stroked over every inch of him, including his cock. Taking a deep breath and telling himself to calm the hell down, he asked her, “So what can I get you to drink?”
“I’d like a White Russian, please.”
Nodding, he moved away to get what he needed and mixed, it all the while extremely aware of the woman in red.
Lena was looking at his ass. So what? She couldn’t help it; it was right there. He’d turned away to make her drink and that had put his very tight, very nice ass on display. He was dressed in the usual tonight. Tight black fitted slacks and a black button-down shirt tucked in at the waist. On the shirt by the pocket was the word Exquisite. Lena felt the side of her mouth pull up at that. How appropriate that he should be wearing a shirt that declared to the world how sinfully attractive he was. Like a fine wine, he was simply exquisite. He finally turned back and walked over to her. She let her gaze follow him, enjoying the moment to flirt and relax. His hair was pushed back and his eyes seemed almost to sparkle under the soft lights. When he stopped in front of her, she was trying to remember how on earth she’d managed to end up dating such a gorgeous man.
“One White Russian,” he told her with a smirk.
She reached across and took the glass from him, then lifted it to take a sip. When the liquid hit her tongue, she didn’t even realize the sweet creamy mixture had made her moan softly. He leaned down toward her and said softly. “Okay, you can’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Moan,” he almost hissed at her. “You can’t sit there in that dress, drinking drinks from a straw and m
oan if you expect me to work.”
Biting her lip, she showed her teeth in a wicked grin.
“I mean it,” he demanded.
“Okay, okay,” she agreed reluctantly, putting the drink back on the bar. “I guess I can contain myself.”
He laughed. “Well, that’s nice to know, Doctor.”
Smiling, she sat back and looked around the restaurant and the bar. “This is the quietest I’ve ever seen it here.”
“Yeah. Thursdays are usually steady but nothing like Fridays and Saturdays. How was your day?”
She turned back to face him and wondered when they’d become so comfortable they were asking the everyday questions, she found she liked it.
“It was good. I finally got to see a young patient go home today. He isn’t out of the woods yet, but little Robbie was good enough to go home for a while.”
“Well, that’s great news.” He paused and then said softly, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get down to the flower shop today.”
Looking at him across the bar, standing under the soft glow of the lights, she smiled and shook her head. “Don’t apologize. You have a business to run. I probably needed a day off, anyway. I appreciate you sending someone over there for me.”
“You’re welcome. Anytime, Lena. If there’s anything I can do, don’t ever hesitate to ask me,” he told her sincerely.
She nodded and then lifted her drink again, being careful not to let out any pleasurable noises.
“I will. So, Langley, now that you have me here, what would you like to do with me?”
His grin could only be described as mischievous and she found herself returning it.
“Well. I was thinking we could play Twenty Questions.”
Arching a brow at him, she looked down the quiet bar, then back to him.
“Okay. I’m game.” She paused and then asked, “Who gets to start?” After all, she had liquid courage to get her through.
“You can,” he said easily, leaning a hip against the bar and watching the dining room for a moment.
“Are there any rules?”
“Well, you can’t ask me something you already know, but other than that. Nope.”
Sitting up tall, she nodded once and then asked, “When did you decide you wanted to be a chef?”
He looked as though he was trying to remember then he gave her a huge smile.
“My dad used to cook in our house. Mom, well she did everything else. When I was a child, my father would make me help him prepare the meal and telling me that my mother, his wife, did everything to look after him. Was always there for whatever he needed, and the least he could do was feed her.” He paused and then chuckled. “I’ve been feeding beautiful women ever since.”
“I bet,” she murmured. “Your mom and dad sound like they had a wonderful marriage.”
He nodded. “Yeah, they did. You would’ve never met a couple happier to be with each other.”
“That’s beautiful. It must’ve been difficult on her when she lost him.”
“Devastating, but we pulled through and she goes and talks to him every day, so it makes her feel like he’s still here. He’s actually in the same place where Carly is, so you probably ended up helping her in a sense. She couldn’t avoid him.” Pausing, he grinned over to her. “Okay, my turn.”
Lena braced herself for his question and then laughed when it finally came.
“What was your first impression of me?”
Mason watched as she laughed. Great, he thought. He thought back to their first meeting and how she’d effectively told him he was a moron in front of the waiting room and pissed him off so badly he couldn’t get her out of his mind.
“Sure you want to hear this?” she asked.
“No, but now I need to since you’re obviously laughing at me.”
“You made me so mad that day because I suspected my mom had sent those flowers and when I finally came out to see who was making me take them, well, my first impression was that you were freakishly tall.”
He felt his mouth open. “I’m not weirdly tall?” He paused. “Am I?” and that seemed to make her laugh even harder.
“Well, I was thinking that I am tall but you were looking down at me. I remembered thinking your mom must have stood you in a lot of manure.”
“That’s lovely, Lena,” he pouted.
She shrugged at him. “You asked.”
“So I did.” Shaking his head, he motioned to her. “Okay, your turn.”
“Hmm,” she murmured, pressing her cherry lips together. He decided he needed them on him by the end of the night. Then she grinned. “What do you like best about me?”
“Your ass.”
“I meant personality-wise!”
“Well, you didn’t specify.”
Sputtering a little, she looked past him. “You have a customer.”
He turned his head and saw the middle-aged man looking at them. He turned back to her, knowing she was expecting some kind of flirty question but he could wait for those, so he asked something he’d wanted to know for a while now.
“My question, and think about it while I help him. Why did it take you nine years to visit your sister?”
Lena watched as he moved down to the man at the middle of the bar. Could she tell him she wished it’d been her that night and not her sister? Could she explain to him and make him understand the level of guilt she felt whenever she thought about driving them across that street and having the car slam into them? She watched in slow motion, it seemed, as he turned and walked back over to her. Before he could say anything, she blurted out.
“Guilt.”
He tilted his head and asked, “Guilt? You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. That’s my answer.” She knew she was being harsh and probably a little bitchier than she should be so when he nodded and said your turn, she snapped out.
“Why do you want to date me?”
Without so much as blinking, he answered, “Because you’re so much fun.”
She looked at him, saw his serious face, and felt the sarcasm dripping off his words. “Hilarious, Langley.”
He arched a brow and leaned into the bar. “What do you like most about me?”
She deadpanned and replied, “Your ass.”
He grinned at her, “Be serious.”
“I am. You have a really nice ass.”
“You can’t steal my answers,” he said, pretending to be put out. Back to being relaxed, she lifted her glass and took another sip.
“Okay. Favorite color?”
“Blue, that light sky blue. But I’m also growing fond of forest green.”
“Ha! Google was right about that too. Not the green part.”
“They have my favorite color on there?”
She nodded.
“Hey, you weren’t supposed to ask me something you knew,” Mason told her with a mock frown.
Shrugging at him, she grinned. “I didn’t know it for sure. I wanted to confirm their sources so I knew if other important details were correct. You know like how many . . .”
“Stop,” he warned her. “You’re doing so well.”
She laughed and motioned to him. “Your turn.”
“What color panties are you wearing?”
Lena looked around, quickly feeling a blush creep up to her cheeks.
“Do they match your dress?”
“That’s two questions.”
“Well, technically they could be considered one.”
Taking one last gulp of her drink, she motioned for a second one and he grinned widely at her. “Answer me, Lena.”
“Fine,” she answered in a snotty tone, then gave as good as she got. “A cherry-red thong.”
She was happy to see his mouth fall open.
Mason couldn’t help all the images that were now flooding his head. Holy shit, he wanted to see it on her right now. In fact, he was ready to close early just so he could. Taking a deep breath, he placed a fresh dr
ink in front of her and then nodded, not quite trusting his voice yet. She seemed to understand because she reached out, took a drink, and then proceeded to blow his mind.
“How many times tonight have you imagined my lips around you since I sat down?”
He couldn’t decide how to answer that. Here she was sitting at the end of his bar dressed to drive him insane, wrapping her mouth no that was the wrong choice of words at this moment. Throwing around words and questions that had him imagining exactly what she’d intended, as though her words had a direct line to the actual part of his anatomy that he wanted those lips around. He felt himself go rock hard.
“At least once, now,” he managed to get out, and then coughed to clear his throat. “But I’m sure it’ll be crossing my mind a few more by the end of the night.”
Her mouth tipped up in a sexy smile and she licked those red lips, wetting them with her tongue and making him groan.
“Are you enjoying this?” Mason asked.
“Is that your question?”
He shook his head and took a deep breath. “Three years since you’ve had sex. Are you nervous about it?”
Her eyes boldly moved over his body and then came back up to land on his face. She shook her head. “That’s not the right word.”
“Oh? What’s the right word?”
“That’s two questions.”
He sighed, frustrated beyond belief. “Answer the damn question, Lena.”
She blinked slowly. “Anxious.”
Swallowing hard, he tried to keep focus. “Your turn, Lena.”
Knowing the drink had relaxed her, and she was saying things she usually wouldn’t ever say, was making this game interesting. At every turn, she went from innocent and shocked to hot and downright sexy, as she teased him with questions that were blowing his mind. The next one was no different.
“Ultimate fantasy?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Sexual or life goal fantasy?”