Chapter 17: Chapter 17

JAMIE

Ezra, ever the gentleman, held the hotel suite door open. His usually stern face softened as Mason walked in, cradling a sleeping Penelope in his arms. The poor little thing had been fighting sleep all evening, finally succumbing to it on our way back.

I glanced at the clock and a wave of tiredness hit me. It was past ten, way past Penelope’s usual bedtime. Despite spending most of the night seated, my legs felt stiff and I found myself longing for the comfort of the queen-sized bed.

“I’ll get her changed and into bed,” Mason whispered, careful not to disturb Penelope’s slumber. “Why don’t you head to bed? I won’t be long.”

I nodded in response, a silent thank you hanging between us. Watching him with Penelope, the way he held her, the bond they shared, it tugged at my heartstrings. They had weathered so much together, and I couldn’t deny that I was a part of their struggles.

“Let me help you to your room,” Ezra offered, breaking the comfortable silence.

With a grateful smile, I let him guide me to my bedroom.

“Thank you, Ezra,” I sighed, sinking into the plush bed. The soft mattress seemed to swallow me, instantly erasing the day’s fatigue.

“Of course,” he replied. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

With a final nod, he left the room, closing the heavy oak doors behind him.

A sigh of relief escaped me as I sank deeper into the bed. Alone in the room, I allowed myself a moment of reflection, replaying the night’s events in my mind.

The way my red dress had flowed to the floor, Mason’s handsome figure in his tuxedo—an image that would linger—and Penelope, twirling in her pink dress on the dance floor, the center of everyone’s attention.

A content smile played on my lips as I closed my eyes, the bed’s comfort a welcome embrace. I drifted off to sleep, clutching the sweet memories of the night.

A soft tickle on my cheek and a gentle murmur of my name stirred me from my sleep.

“Jamie…” It was Mason’s voice, a low rumble that vibrated through me.

I blinked open my eyes, clearing away the remnants of pleasant dreams to focus on his face. He sat beside me on the bed, a teasing smile on his lips.

“You looked like you were having a good sleep,” he said, amused.

A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “This is becoming a habit, you waking me up,” I replied, my voice a husky whisper. The memory of the night, the way he looked at me, danced at the edges of my mind. “I’m sorry I fell asleep on you again. I guess I was tired.”

His smile softened, making my heart flutter. “Don’t apologize,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from my face. “You look beautiful, even when you’re snoring.”

A playful glint sparked in my eyes as I smiled. “I was not snoring. I was having a nice dream—it was about you.”

“Really?” he drawled. “Tell me, what happened in this dream?”

His gaze held a playful challenge, daring me to elaborate. I bit my lower lip, meeting his eyes. “Well…,” I began. “How about I just show you?”

I reached out, my fingers trailing through his hair. His gaze held mine as I gently combed his hair back from his face. Mason responded by moving closer, the anticipation building with each inch. Our lips met in a soft, tender kiss.

After the other night—what happened on our date, I wasn’t sure how far I wanted to take things between us. But right now, all I knew was that I wanted to kiss him.

The kiss deepened, fueled by a sudden surge of desire. My fingers brushed against the crisp white of his shirt, the first button undone before I even realized what I was doing.

He gently pulled away from our kiss, his stormy brown eyes a whirlpool of desire and confusion. “Jamie, I thought we agreed to take things slow.”

“I thought so too,” I whispered back. I couldn’t quite pinpoint why I had changed my mind. Maybe it was the events of the evening—the way he looked at me in that dress, his eyes brimming with desire. All I knew was that in that moment… I wanted him.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I nodded in response, leaning in to capture his lips once more. Electricity sparked between us.

My fingers deftly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a sight that was both exhilarating and daunting. His chiseled torso, highlighted by the moonlight streaming through the window, was a sight to behold.

Mason shifted above me, his weight a delicious pressure against my body. His lips, warm and sweet, trailed down my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His kisses continued their journey, a slow burn igniting a path down my chest, pausing between my breasts. My breath hitched.

In that moment, everything else ceased to exist. There was only him and me, the feel of his body against mine, the taste of his skin, and the overwhelming wave of desire that threatened to consume us both.

***

The morning sun, a playful beam of light, snuck through the gap in the hotel curtains, nudging me awake. I turned to my right, expecting to find Mason beside me, but the bed was empty.

I sat up, glancing around the room. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, but Mason wasn’t there. I reached for Mason’s white shirt at the foot of the bed, slipping it on over my lingerie from the night before. The cotton fabric clung to my skin, a reminder of the previous night’s passion.

Using my walking stick for support, I made my way to the bedroom door, each step on the plush hotel carpet sending a dull ache through my legs.

I pushed open the door. “Hello…” My voice, raspy from sleep and tinged with unease, echoed through the suite. The silence was deafening, no sign of Mason or Penelope.

~Where could they be?~

The sound of the suite door opening snapped me out of my worry. A wave of relief washed over me as Penelope’s familiar giggle filled the room. I turned to see her bounding toward me, a wide grin on her face. Mason followed behind her, balancing a coffee cup and several bags.

“You’re awake,” Penelope exclaimed, throwing her arms around me in a tight hug. The bags she was holding groaned in protest.

“We brought you breakfast,” she announced proudly, pulling away from our embrace.

A smile spread across my face, filled with gratitude and relief. “Thank you. I’m starving.”

Penelope beamed, clearly pleased with herself. “We also got you a coffee. Dad’s holding it.”

She playfully nudged Mason. “I think he might have…sampled some on the way up the elevator.”

“I was just making sure it was good,” Mason defended himself with a chuckle, handing me the coffee cup. “I promise I left most of it for you.” He winked.

A blush crept up my neck as I accepted the coffee from Mason. I took a cautious sip, the sweet taste of chocolate syrup battling the strong, invigorating taste of coffee.

“This is really good,” I admitted, trying to act nonchalant despite the butterflies fluttering in my stomach from the events of last night. “Thank you both for thinking of me.”

I turned to Penelope, a smile playing on my lips. “So, what’s for breakfast? Anything good?”

We spent the morning at the table, munching on delicious pastries and chatting about everything under the sun, until noon. Penelope, always full of energy, suggested a trip to the beach. She had never been, which I thought was a travesty.

Everyone should have beach memories.

When Penelope mentioned the beach, I pictured a classic beach day with sandwiches in a cooler and a sun-warmed towel. Those were my memories. But I soon discovered that Mason’s idea of a beach day was quite different.

We had our own private section of the beach, complete with a luxurious beach cabana that stood like a white oasis amidst the sand. It was a pleasant surprise.

Instead of a flimsy beach umbrella offering little shade, we had our own comfortable haven. The cushions were plush and inviting, a perfect respite for my weary body.

Above us, a crisp canopy stretched out, offering a shield for Penelope’s tender skin from the harsh sun.

Mason let out a chuckle. “You’ve slathered her in sunscreen, what, three times?”

“You can’t be too careful,” I responded, gently rubbing the lotion behind Penelope’s ears. “All done.”

I placed her sun hat on her head with a soft touch. “Go on, sweetheart. Play.”

The rhythmic lullaby of the waves coaxed me into a tranquil state as I watched Penelope play in the sand. Her bucket, a vibrant red, was brimming with golden grains.

With a swift yet careful motion, Penelope placed the bucket on the sand. Her face lit up with a smile as she admired her creation.

A matching smile spread across my face as I watched her, a profound sense of connection blossoming within me. Our bond was finally taking root.

I sighed, slipping out of my lightweight shirt to reveal my black and white striped bathing suit. It was a more comfortable choice than yesterday’s backless dress.

I knew, in my head, that the opinions of others shouldn’t matter. I should wear what makes me feel good, scars and all. But the nagging self-doubt lingered.

I couldn’t help but wonder what people thought when they saw my scarred back, exposed for all to see.

I leaned back against the cushions, the ocean breeze playfully lifting the brim of my sun hat. I turned to Mason, a knot of nerves forming in my stomach. “So,” I started. “About last night?”

Mason, previously engrossed in his work emails, looked up, a curious smile on his face. “Do you regret it?”

His question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken possibilities. I shook my head, my blonde curls dancing in the breeze. “No, I don’t regret it,” I confessed. “I had a good time last night.”

A spark of desire flashed in Mason’s eyes. “Me too,” he replied, his gaze soft yet intense. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

I laughed lightly, my cheeks flushing. “I don’t doubt it.”

My phone buzzed for the second time since we arrived at the beach, pulling me from the moment. I pulled it from my bag and unlocked the screen. Two missed calls.

“Who’s trying to reach you?” Mason asked.

I shook my head, a cloud of worry dimming my previously sunny mood. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “It’s strange. I had missed calls this morning too. I’ve already checked on my dad, and he’s okay.”

Mason reached over, his hand resting gently on my thigh. “If it’s important, they’ll call back,” he said, firm but comforting. There was a protective edge to his tone that I found reassuring.

Penelope’s return was a welcome distraction. She was a tornado of sand and laughter, throwing herself at Mason, who scooped her up and brushed the sand from her legs.

The day at the beach had left me drained. Penelope’s infectious energy had kept Mason and me on our toes, building towering sandcastles and splashing in the waves.

Now, at eight o’clock, she was tucked safely into bed.

Mason, despite his fatigue, was on a late-night Zoom call. The low murmur of his voice drifted in from the study, punctuated by the occasional click of his keyboard.

I studied my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My skin had a healthy, sun-kissed glow beneath my cool silk nightgown. My hair, still damp from my shower, seemed lighter than before our beach trip.

I wanted to look nice for Mason when he finished his call.

As I reached for my evening skincare products, the cool touch of my moisturizer against my cheek was soothing. Looking in the mirror, I noticed a subtle but undeniable change in my reflection.

It wasn’t just the beach glow, but a spark in my eyes.

My phone buzzed on the bathroom counter, pulling me from my thoughts. The unknown number. The one that had been calling me for the past two days.

With a sense of unease, I reached for the phone. I had no idea who was on the other end, but I was about to find out. I accepted the call and pressed the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” I said. A flutter of anxiety stirred in my belly.

“Jamie…” A woman’s voice came through the receiver. “Jamie, please don’t hang up. I just want to talk.”

At first, the voice didn’t ring any bells. But when she said my name again, recognition washed over me like a tidal wave.

“Carmen,” I exhaled. Memories of our shared past rushed back to me—days of innocent laughter and playing dress-up as kids, the giddy excitement of decorating our first cramped apartment together.

But then, a shadow fell over those memories. Our fight, the one I can’t recall, but was told by others was terrible. It was so awful that I had completely excised her from my life.

What could she possibly want now?