A Song I Used to Know, page 22
“I want—” No. “I deserve a chance at a family that doesn’t hate or resent me.” The first tears fall.
Dammit.
Mason stands, reaching for me, but his mother gets between us and surprises me with a hug.
First, I freeze. Moments later, I relax into Miranda’s soft but sturdy embrace.
“What I said was unconscionable,” she tells me, her voice breaking. “I was scared and didn’t understand. I know better, now. Mason corrected so many of my assumptions, and I’ve had time to digest this. I’m so sorry for ruining a precious moment for you. I only hope you can forgive me one day.”
We stay in the embrace for a silent minute before she steps back, sniffling.
“I hope you’ll let me spend some time with you,” she says. “I promise I’m not a horrible person.”
“Well,” I say, wiping my face with my sleeve, “if you can bear to be seen with the skanky nanny, I guess that would be fine.”
Miranda stares stone-faced, unsure how to respond, until Mason laughs so hard he snorts. She shakes her head, trying to portray agitation when she’s clearly amused.
“You two really are perfect together, aren’t you?” she says, wagging her fingers at us. “I’m going to find my grandson. At least when he teases me, it’s adorable.”
“I don’t know. I think I’m pretty adorable,” I say.
Miranda shakes her head and smacks Mason’s shoulder on her way out of the kitchen, but does so with an ear-to-ear grin.
The moment Miranda is out of range, Mason rushes in.
“I love you,” he says between kisses. “You’re friggin’ magnificent. You know that, right?”
I clutch his wavy hair in my fingers as he lifts me onto the countertop. His hands slide under my shirt as my ankles lock behind his thighs, binding him closer to me. If I trap him here forever, I’ll never tire of the taste of him or the way he gently but deliberately explores my body, igniting tiny fires with every touch. I arch into him as his hands press against my spine, and he moans into my mouth.
He breaks away, breathless. “How the hell am I supposed to leave for work now?”
I laugh, pulling him into a hug, guiding his head onto my shoulder.
He catches his breath as I twist a curly lock around my finger.
“There’s a hitch to the whole Max thing,” I say. “I couldn’t tell you in front of your mother.”
Mason pulls back, raising a quizzical brow.
“I have to live with them until the wedding.”
“Or…?”
“Or…” I shrug. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you, but Max said, ‘We do this proper, you hear?’ and I found myself saying, ‘Yessir.’ If you want to try and renegotiate with him, you’re welcome to, but you should know when Nancy tried to tell him he couldn’t make rules for me, he said, ‘The hell I can’t’ and then muttered something about you being a weasel. So… I mean, do what you will, but I have no desire to argue with that man.”
Mason’s forehead falls to my shoulder as he laughs. “He went into dad mode, huh?”
“It was terrifying but also somehow endearing.”
He laughs harder. “I think it’s amazing he cares so much. You deserve that.” He stands tall, bringing his lips within an inch of mine, framing my face with his hands. “And yes, I noticed you finally allowed yourself to say you deserved something back there with my mom. I’ve never loved you more.”
My fingers get lost in his hair as I pull him in for another kiss. When we part, he braces his forehead against mine.
“Well,” he says. “I guess nothing about our relationship has really been…conventional. Not by modern standards, anyway.”
“Yeah, I hear sex and living together typically come before a proposal.”
He sucks in a small breath. “You hear? You mean…?”
“I’ve never had a relationship before. Not really. And after what happened with…in the music room… There hasn’t been anyone I loved or trusted enough to consider intimacy. Until you.”
Unable to decipher the sigh that comes from his mouth, I freeze. I’m not sure how what I’ve just said could possibly hurt him, but something tells me it has.
“There’s a lot more to a relationship than sex,” he finally says. “It can wait.”
I release the breath I’ve been holding. “Yeah?”
“Of course. For as long as you need. Or want.” He kisses me again. “Every minute with you is already perfect, with or without that particular connection. What we have, Stevie? It goes so far beyond that. That day I met you, some broken, buried part of me woke up. Like all this time, what I needed to be whole again was you. Where you live isn’t going to change that.”
Before I find his mouth again, I take a moment to let those words wash over me, trying to absorb them. This kiss is somehow even better than all we’ve shared before, and I’d love to stay here, his chest pressed to mine, our tongues dancing, our hands roaming. I want it all, forever. But when my head bumps against a cabinet, and I laugh, I open my eyes just enough to catch sight of the clock.
“Babe,” I say, cringing.
“Hm?”
“You’re gonna be late.” I tip my head toward the clock. He whips around.
“Oh, shi—” he stops himself when he finds Daniel standing behind him. “Shoot,” he revises, picking his toddler up for a hug. “Well, you’re a sneaky ninja today, aren’t you? Where’s Gramma?”
“She coming. She say her knees old and slow.”
He laughs. “I’ve gotta get to work, monster. I love you.”
“Love you, Daddy.”
I hop down from the countertop and take Danny in my arms. Mason rushes around, gathering his things.
“Stevie?” Danny asks.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Did you like your new guitar?”
Mason stops mid-rush, deflating with a sigh.
“What guitar?” I ask.
“You got a guitar and I got a yuka lilly and we’d gonna learn to play!”
“A ukulele, huh?” I ask, looking from Daniel to Mason, who turns to me with a resigned smile.
“Surprise?” he mutters, turning his hands up.
“Surprise!” Danny calls. “Happy birfday!”
I chew on my lip, shaking my head, wondering how in the hell I got so lucky, as Mason mouths, love you, then runs out the door.
We’re nearly a month into our routine, and I still turn to mush every night when Mason comes home, snatches me up, and pulls me onto the couch with him.
Sometimes we cuddle and talk. Other times we kiss until I’m dizzy. Either way, it’s always the best part of my day. Mason is the best part of my everything.
I sit relaxed against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart and a Lumineers song drifting from my phone, letting the stress of school, work, life—all of it—melt away.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he whispers.
“Happy quiet,” I add, smiling.
He huffs a laugh, then wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer. “Guess you got what you wanted, huh?” Shivers run down my spine as his hot breath ghosts over my neck.
“Just about.”
“But not everything?”
Shaking my head, I pull away from his embrace. As our eyes meet, my heart goes ballistic, and I have to look at my lap in order to continue. “I’ve been thinking…” I pause the music on my phone, trying to clear my head.
“You can tell me anything,” he says, his fingers grazing my chin. “Always.”
With a heavy sigh, I look right into those chocolate eyes and let it out. “I want to adopt Daniel. Legally. After we’re married.”
He has no initial reaction other than stunned silence. No facial twitches. No hand gestures. Is he even breathing?
“Mase?” No response. “Look, if you’re not ready to talk about this, we can shelve it. But I just…” I’ve practiced this in the mirror a dozen times, but in this moment, all my pre-planned, eloquent remarks are scattered in broken, useless shards, floating aimlessly in my brain. I can’t grasp a single one.
“I know a piece of notarized paper can’t change or add to what’s already in my heart. So maybe this seems silly or unnecessary. But I don’t ever want that boy feeling like he and I aren’t family in every sense of the word. You know?”
In the silence that follows, my heart slowly descends into my stomach, and my hands begin trembling. Next, my chin quivers. Still, Mason offers no verbal response. Embarrassed and on the verge of melting down, I stand from the couch.
“I should go,” I say, my voice pinched at the back of my throat. “Sorry for springing that on you.”
I make it two steps before Mason’s hand curls around my wrist.
“Stay.” Such a gentle demand, I can’t disregard it, even if I’m about to ugly cry all over him.
He pulls me back to the couch so I’m straddling his lap.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” I whisper.
“It’s not that,” he says, his fingers gently brushing my cheek. “It’s just that I should have told you… My first wife… She…”
“What?”
“It’s hard for me to talk about her. Also, I just don’t like talking about her because I don’t ever want Danny to hear me speaking negatively about his mother. Even if it’s accurate.”
“I respect that, really. You don’t need to tell me everything.”
“But I should have talked with you about her, so you’d know. So she isn’t this unspoken barrier between us, causing awkward conversations. That’s not fair to you.”
He takes my chin in his thumb and forefinger, his eyes burrowing into mine.
“Stevie, of course, I’d love for you to adopt Daniel. I’d consider it a privilege.”
“Yeah?” I ask, still trying to steady my emotions.
“Hell yes. I mean…Stanford, Stevie.” He shakes his head as I try to work out his meaning.
“What?”
“You gave up Stanford to care for a man who never truly grasped how amazing you were and how damned lucky he was to have you. You let go of your dreams to be there for him when he needed it, like he never was for you. I can only imagine the lengths you’d go to for Danny. You love fiercely, Stevie Rae. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
I wipe the back of my hand across my wet cheeks, sniffling.
“I love you so much,” he says. Yet there’s that dark look again like something’s haunting him.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table. Twice.
“Uh-oh,” Mason says. “We’ve angered the parents. Haven’t we?”
Technically, I don’t have a curfew. But anytime I’m out past eleven, Nancy texts me, just to make sure I’m okay.
“Come on,” he says, nudging me. “I really want them to like me. It would probably help if you went home on time, so they stopped assuming I’m…you know…”
“What?” I ask, smirking. “Defiling me?”
He lolls his head back. “You’re killing me, Stevie,” he says, deep and husky.
I kiss his neck. “Right back at’cha.”
He grabs me and bolts forward, pinning me under him on the couch. His tongue parting my lips, his hips lowering onto mine, the heat rising from his skin, and yet all these layers between us. It’s insufferable.
My hands slide under his shirt, and he revs up the intensity as my nails dig into his back. His lips trail down my neck to my collarbone but freeze as they reach the curve of my breast. He collapses against me, exhaling.
“I’m sorry,” he says, breathless, then rolls off the couch and sits on the floor.
I release an exasperated breath and blink at the ceiling before turning onto my side, propping my head on my palm. “Why? What just happened?”
He shakes his head. “I want this, Stevie. You have no idea…” His thoughts trail, and he laughs, brief and humorless. “It’s just…”
With my free hand, I brush his cheek, then rake my fingers through his hair. He’s been growing it back out, and it’s once again long enough to stay tucked behind his ears. Not every girl’s cup of tea, for sure. But for me…it works.
“Mase, if you want to keep waiting, we can. But I’m ready.”
He sets his jaw.
“I’m ready. So if something’s holding you back, just talk to me about it, okay? Because the whole will he or won’t he rip my clothes off thing is a fresh form of torture, and I’ve told you before, I’m not a masochist.”
His head bobs as he releases a barely audible laugh.
“That’s fair.” Silence hangs between us for a minute, maybe longer. “Stevie, I…”
He leans in, kissing my forehead.
“Your first time should be special.”
“Um, it’s you. I promise you it’ll be special. I don’t need some grand plan—”
“At the very least,” he says, “It should be on a bed. Without a toddler sleeping down the hall. And I want you to stay with me, fall asleep next to me. I don’t want some quickie on the couch where I have to watch you leave afterward.”
I bite down on my lips, making them disappear.
He scans my face, awaiting my response.
“Well,” I sigh, “when you put it like that…”
He plants another kiss on my forehead, then a softer one on my nose.
“But we’re both adults. It feels really stupid that we’re going along with Max’s house rules. Unless you’re trying to protect me from something…? Are you…? Are you having doubts about marrying me? About me moving in here?”
His eyes widen. “No, Stevie. Of course not.”
“So why are we doing this? Why are we having this conversation instead of making love in your bed, saying to hell with the house rules because I can just move in here? You’re doubting this.”
“Stevie, stop. Breathe.” He takes my hand in his, pressing it to his chest. “It’s me, okay. This is me. And I’m not doubting us or planning on going anywhere, okay?”
I nod, taking a deep breath. Mason isn’t like the other men in my life, who’ve all either died or hurt me. Or hurt me then died. This is Mason, who gave me a job and saved my life, who changed his soap and invited me to the cabin and who holds me like he needs it to breathe.
“The Caraways are your family,” he says. “I know how much you love them, which means I love and respect them. Let’s give Max some time to get to know me, okay? I’d hate for you to argue with him over something so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. You know? We’ve got time. We don’t have to rush this.”
“Is that why you still don’t want to talk about setting a date? You’re not rushing this anymore? You proposed on the first date, but now we’ve got all the time in the world?” I love this man, but he’s confusing sometimes.
“Stevie, there’s just some things I’m trying to work out. I want to give you the best life, and I don’t want to drive a wedge between you and your new family.”
His eyes hold mine with a feverish intensity. I can’t help but kiss him. It’s deep, long, and intoxicating.
“Fine,” I say as we part. “We wait a little longer. But I’ma need you to tone down your sex appeal at least eighty percent.”
He wriggles his brows, gesturing to himself. “I can’t turn this off, babe,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
“Then stop showering or something,” I tease. “Or I’ll have to impose a six-feet-apart rule.”
His mouth gapes. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I start singing “Don’t Stand So Close to Me,” and he tickles my sides. We’re moments away from tangling back together when my phone buzzes again. I roll my eyes, groaning and flopping back onto the couch as he hands it to me. I love Nancy, but the woman is a mood killer.
Nancy
Just checking in.
Remind Mason about dinner next weekend.
Heading to bed. You have your key?
Yes, I have my key. On my way. Promise.
Nancy
Thank goodness. I was trying to play it cool, but you had me panicking.
Sorry I worried you. Be home soon. xoxo
“She okay?” Mason asks.
“Yeah. Just…being a mom. And reminding you about next weekend.”
“Call me crazy, but I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’m sure you’re counting the minutes.”
“Stevie, I told you. If you love them, I love them. I want this. I want the awkward meeting of the in-laws and obligatory dinners. I want it all.”
He kisses me one last time, then helps gather my things and walks me to the door.
“I told you I don’t have classes tomorrow night, right?” he asks.
“Right, you and Dan have an appointment. Is it the counselor again? Is everything okay? Are there behaviors I should be looking out for or—”
He puts an arm around me, kissing my temple. “Everything’s okay. We’re just working through some adjustments. But it’s almost over, and then we can focus on you and me. Nothing but wedding stuff.”
As he hugs me goodnight, his hand slides into the back pocket of my jeans.
“If you’re putting money in my pants right now, I will cut you. I told you it’s too weird.”
“And I told you I’m not letting you work for free.”
“It’s hardly work. Stop sneaking your dirty money into my pocket every week. I don’t want it.”
“It’s not dirty money,” he teases, swaying me back and forth, touching his nose to mine. “If I were leaving it on the nightstand, that would be dirty money.”
I snort, shoving him away. “Goodnight, Mason.”
“Goodnight, Stevie Rae.” That smooth baritone threatens to melt me all over again, and I already told Nancy I’m on my way. Gathering every last ounce of willpower, I force myself out the door, my heart constricting as it latches behind me.
“Soon,” I breathe, pressing a hand against my stomach. “Soon.”
This semi-awkward dinner serves a dual purpose. It’s an excuse for Nancy and Max to meet the Shepards—all of them. Wes and Miranda included. But we’re also celebrating the fact that I accepted an offer on the house, and barring any unforeseen disasters, the buyers will close in a month.
