Chapter 14: Chapter 14

JAMIE

Once we’d polished off dessert, Mason and I made ourselves comfortable on the living room couch. The room was bathed in the warm, flickering light of the fireplace, casting playful shadows around us. The air was filled with the soothing strains of classic jazz, emanating from an old record player tucked away in a corner.

The ambiance was just as perfect as our dinner had been. Now, as we sat close together on the couch, I felt a wave of nervous anticipation. Would Mason make a move?

Did I want him to kiss me again? Absolutely. The mere memory of his lips on mine sent a delightful shiver down my spine. But was I ready for what might come after the kiss? I wasn’t sure.

I didn’t even know if he was expecting anything more. Maybe, like me, Mason wanted to take things slow, allowing our bond to deepen before moving forward. I quickly dismissed that thought, laughing softly to myself. Who was I kidding? He’s a man, after all. Patience isn’t exactly a virtue most men are known for.

Suddenly, Mason broke the silence. His voice was a low, husky whisper. “Barbara mentioned earlier that there’s a fundraiser coming up soon… She attends it every year.”

As he spoke about the event, I found my gaze constantly drawn back to him. I studied the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way his fingers idly traced the worn leather of the couch armrest. The air between us was heavy with unspoken desires, a silent question hanging in the balance.

“Would you be interested in going?” he asked.

“Sure, that sounds like fun,” I replied with a playful smile. The thought of attending a fundraiser wasn’t particularly exciting, but it did provide the perfect opportunity to wear my new red dress.

The memory of slipping into the vibrant silk, how it hugged my curves and flared dramatically at the hem, sent a thrill through me. But then, I thought about Penelope. With Barbara and Sid also attending the fundraiser, who would look after her?

“We’d bring Penelope along, right?” I asked.

Mason’s smile softened to match mine. “We can bring her,” he assured me, his voice warm and understanding. “I could rent a suite at the venue. That way, if she gets tired, we can take her up for a break, some quiet time.”

“It sounds like we could make a weekend of it. Stay an extra night and spend some quality time with Penelope… What do you think?” I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, anxiously awaiting his response.

Mason’s lips curved into a smile. “I think she would like that. I know I would,” he said. His comment made me blush.

“How about some wine? I think Sid left a bottle out.”

“Um, sure. Why not!” I replied, grinning.

Mason left the room to fetch the wine, and I seized the opportunity to check my reflection in my phone screen, ensuring my makeup was still intact.

While Mason was out of the room, I quickly checked my notifications. I didn’t want to be on my phone tonight, but I had heard it buzz a few times during dinner.

I had one missed call from Ethan and two messages. The first was from Jake, a picture of him and my dad at a casino, stacks of chips in front of them and smiles on their drunk faces. I couldn’t help but smile. Seeing them happy together, especially after everything that had happened, warmed my heart.

Losing my mom had hit my dad the hardest. She was his soulmate. Maybe he’ll never fully move on, but at least this was a start. The second message was from Ethan…

Ethan

I tried to call you. I’m sorry if I seemed off earlier. I didn’t want to lie to you. It was Carmen that was at my door. We went out for a catch up. She’s been asking about you, Jamie. She wants to give you a call??

I set my phone down next to me with a sigh. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It was bound to happen eventually. The question was, did I want her in my life or not?

Mason returned to the living room, carrying two half-filled glasses of red wine. He handed me one, knowing full well that this glass would last me an hour and still leave me slightly tipsy. But I was willing to take my chances.

“Thanks.” I lifted the glass to my lips, taking a sip. The taste was a revelation. It wasn’t just the dark berry flavors and the smoky undertone, but the way it lingered as it traveled down my throat. “Wow!” I exhaled. “I’ve never tasted wine this good.”

Mason’s lips twisted into a familiar smirk. “Trust me, you have. You just don’t remember,” he said. He turned toward the record player, his smirk still in place. “The wine is good, but I’m more of a rum guy.”

“I’ve noticed.” I teased him, even with his back to me. I could tell Mason was smirking at my comment. There was a playful energy between us that made me wonder if we’d always been like this, even before the accident.

Mason set a record on the player, a slow, smooth melody filling the room. I didn’t recognize the artist, but the music was undeniably romantic. The kind of music you’d dance to.

My eyes drifted to Mason, his broad shoulders relaxed as he leaned against the mahogany cabinet. I felt a sudden urge to ask him to dance, even though I knew I couldn’t really. I could only walk a few steps before feeling defeated. But the ambiance, the warmth of the wine, and the playful glint in his hazel eyes pushed my reservations aside.

“Do you want to dance?” I asked, my cheeks flushing a traitorous red. I held my breath as I waited for his response.

Mason’s eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face. “I don’t…,” he began, his voice hesitant. Maybe he was taken aback by my question, or maybe he was worried about my limitations. His sentence hung in the air, unfinished. “I don’t dance, Jamie.”

“Oh, so you can dance… You just don’t want to,” I replied, a teasing smile on my lips.

Mason stood in front of me, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his tailored trousers. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, sending a shiver down my spine. He shook his head, his hazel eyes sparkling with a playful challenge.

“All right, I’ll dance with you. But on one condition.”

Here we go again.

I smiled. “All right…hit me! What’s your condition this time? Another date, a movie, maybe bowling—” I trailed off, laughing. “I honestly can’t picture you as the bowling type.”

My playful jab seemed to catch him off guard. Amusement flickered across his face before he straightened up, his gaze meeting mine.

“A dance,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “for a kiss.”

My breath hitched as he walked toward me, the space between us closing with each step. The kiss had been on my mind all night. When would it happen? What would come after?

Before I could react, he was crouching in front of me on the couch, his closeness both thrilling and intimidating.

“I want you to want it as much as I do, Jamie,” he murmured, barely audible. “I don’t want you to hold anything back. What do you say?”

His hazel eyes held mine, a burning intensity that took my breath away. It was true, I had been holding back. He knew it. I could see it in his gaze.

“I think I can handle that,” I replied, accepting his challenge.

With that, Mason stood up. He took my hand in his, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through my already shaky nerves. His fingers intertwined with mine, his grip gentle but firm, a silent promise of support.

As he led me to the center of the living room, a flicker of doubt danced on the edge of my excitement. Was this a good idea? What if my legs gave out? What if the wine I’d gulped down messed with my balance?

But those worries faded as Mason’s arms wrapped around my waist. His cologne, a mix of citrus and something distinctly masculine, filled my senses. He pulled me close, his body a solid barrier against any potential stumbles.

Looking up into his hazel eyes, I felt something. A strange sensation, a mix of butterflies and a curious sense of familiarity, fluttered in my chest.

Was it a memory?

Or just the intoxicating feeling of being this close to him?

***

I was cozily nestled on our bed, my ears tuned to the sounds of the house. Mason’s footsteps echoed from the hallway, returning from Penelope’s room. Penelope had been jolted awake by a bad dream and had wandered into the living room while we were dancing. She was still half-asleep, clutching her teddy bear, when she asked Mason to help her fall back asleep.

Now, it was my turn to uphold our agreement. The kiss!

The bedroom door creaked open and Mason appeared in the doorway. My heart pounded a steady beat in my chest.

His eyes swept the room before settling on me, curled up in the center of the bed. A slow smile spread across his face, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken desire that hung in the air between us.

“Did she fall back asleep okay?” I asked nervously.

Mason nodded, his smile growing as he took deliberate steps toward the bed. “She’s fast asleep now, mumbling something about a talking dog and a flying princess.”

A soft chuckle slipped from my lips. “Sounds like quite the adventure. I wish my dreams were that exciting.”

Mason reached the edge of the bed and sat down. For a moment, the unspoken agreement hung heavy in the air. A dance for a kiss… That was our deal. Not that I minded kissing him again. I was hoping we would end the night with a kiss.

But what worried me was what might come next. Was I ready for more? Was I ready to sleep with him after waking up from a coma?

I was about to find out.

Mason reached out and took my hand in his, his thumb gently stroking my palm. My breath hitched in my throat, and with a nervous smile, I met his gaze.

“My turn,” I whispered, the words barely audible but filled with a newfound confidence.

I leaned into him, closing the gap between us, my eyelids fluttering shut as his warm breath tickled my cheek. My lips brushed against his, a soft touch that sent shivers down my spine.

A soft sigh slipped from my lips as I melted into the kiss. His tongue danced with mine, tasting of rich red wine and spices. My hand reached up to cradle his face, my fingers tracing the sharp angles of his jaw. It was a kiss unlike any I had ever experienced.

Mason responded by deepening the kiss. A groan rumbled deep within his chest, a sound that sent a wave of pleasure through me. He pulled me closer, his hand sliding down my back to press me against him.

But then, his fingers grazed the part of my body I despised the most, the jagged scars on my back, their ugliness, the sensation of someone touching that part of me.

I’m not ready for this.

The intimacy and vulnerability of the moment suddenly became too much. I pushed against Mason’s chest, my hands flat against his shoulders. The kiss broke, leaving me slightly breathless.

“I can’t…,” I blurted out. My words tumbled over each other in a rush.

Mason looked at me, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. My cheeks were flushed and hot, the heat of my embarrassment palpable.

A heavy silence stretched between us, until he finally spoke in a husky whisper. “Are you okay?”

I nodded in response, unable to articulate the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

Mason turned away, sitting on the edge of the bed. He let out a sigh, a sound tinged with regret. He ran his hand through his dark hair, a gesture that spoke volumes about his frustration.

“It’s my fault. I apologize. I got carried away, moved too fast.”

“No,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I guess I just need a little more time.” I offered a weak smile. Despite knowing Mason would understand, I couldn’t help but feel guilty.