Make Me Believe: Unbelievable, Book 3 (7 page)

Which meant that he was due to show up any time, but she’d found a good excuse not to dine with him tonight. She was going to have to cut this off soon, and she ignored the way that depressed her. She sighed and set the broom aside, glancing around at the two other stylists who were cleaning up for the night. Then her gaze took in the rest of the salon, making sure everything was in place. It was, and it looked great—just the way she wanted it. She’d renovated when she’d purchased the building, retaining the feel of the old barbershop inside like she had outside, while updating to the sleek standards of a modern salon. The result was a little bit country, a little bit rock and roll—perfect for Celia.

The bell over the door jingled, and she didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Mason. After three weeks, her body was attuned to him. She glanced back and her heart turned over at the little smile that softened the sharp angles of his face. He only used that look on her, and she refused to let herself consider what that might mean. He was not going to win this campaign of his. She knew better than to go down that road again. If she had to remind herself—and him—of that on a regular basis, then that was how it was going to be. She should just cut her losses and run, but she hadn’t been able to do it. Yet. She was enjoying this thing with him too much to walk away. She would, she had to, but not now. It was a stupid, dangerous game she was playing with her own heart, but she couldn’t make herself stop yet.

He stepped up behind her, closing his hands over her shoulders and kneading out any tension from being on her feet all day. She moaned, her head dropping forward. He kissed the nape of her neck. “Hey, you’re closed Sundays and Mondays, and that’s where my days off fall this week, so let’s do something. Go to the coast and spend the day on the beach.”

“Nope.” She pulled away from him, though she didn’t want to. It sounded like a great time, but with a man like Mason, if she gave an inch, he’d take a mile. Or ten.

Picking her purse up from the counter in front of her chair, she caught him watching her in the mirror. He narrowed his gaze at her, assessing, looking for chinks in her armor. “Fine, no beach. I’m taking you next door for dinner right now.”

“But…”

He folded his arms, arching one dark brow. “Tell me you have plans. Don’t stop and think about it, be honest.”

“I have plans,” she retorted defiantly.

Suspicion filled his expression. “What are they?”

“I’m going to eat at Aubrey’s.” She’d invited herself over in order to avoid just this situation with Mason. He’d done this to her before…if she didn’t have a ready excuse to avoid him, he managed to get his way.

Irritation, frustration and calculation flipped rapidly across his face. Then he grinned. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I’m sure Price wouldn’t mind some family time.”

“Shit.” The urge to stomp her foot and launch a hairdryer at his head was almost irresistible. There was no getting around him. If her hormones didn’t do her in, he did. There were only so many fronts she could fight on.

Another growl erupted from her, and she spun for the door. “Jerry, can you lock up for the night?”

“Sure thing, sugar lips,” he sang out from the back of the salon, a note of glee in his voice. Of course he was happy. Mason had won round seventy-five of this game between them. At this point,
all
of her stylists were rooting against her.

They had a great time at dinner, of course. Aubrey showed off her skills as a chef, and the food was amazing. Seeing Mason with his brother was endearing. They told hilarious stories of their upbringing in Los Angeles, and it was another facet of his personality falling into place. Celia shouldn’t like it, but she did. She couldn’t have asked for a better evening, until Mason insisted on walking her home since it was after dark. Her protests were shut down by Price—there was no arguing safety with the chief of police.

Once Mason had her to himself, there was no doubt for either of them how the night would end.

Hours later, they sat propped against her headboard, naked after yet another round of mattress gymnastics. She’d broken out her favorite wine, and he’d run next door to get some dessert. Crumbs were the only reminder of his chocolate silk pie. A moan of utter delight poured from her as she finished the last bite of her blackberry cheesecake.

“The waitress said that was your favorite, but I had no idea
how
much you liked it.” He stared at her mouth while she swallowed the creamy sweetness.

“I’ve told you before, they know me there.”

He took their plates and forks to set them on the side table. “I thought I’d just gotten lucky with the first server, but they all seem to know you.”

She patted his shoulder. “Welcome to small town, USA. Everyone knows everyone here. Give yourself another couple of years and you’ll adjust.”

“So, you grew up in Cedarville?”

Now there was an unintentionally loaded question. She shifted on the mattress, the springs squeaking under her. “More or less, yeah.”

“More or less?” His gaze rested on her, and she could feel the force of his curiosity, but she didn’t tend to talk about her past. Or her future. The present was the part that mattered.

“Yeah.” She hunched her shoulder, doing nothing to encourage this line of discussion.

Of course he didn’t take the hint. He nudged her arm. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“Why do you want to know?” She turned her head to meet his gaze head-on.

Green eyes narrowed, he studied her face for an uncomfortably long moment. “Because I want to know you.”

“All I’m willing to offer is sex, so that seems like a bad idea. I try not to borrow trouble.” Because it was going to turn up eventually, so why go looking for it? She’d rather not. “Apparently, I need to remind you—again—that
we are not dating
.”

“What, you’ve never had a
friend
with benefits? It might surprise you how fun it can be—we could end up somewhere good even if neither of us gets exactly what we want.”

“Oh.” How sad was it that she hadn’t even considered that option? When was the last time she’d been surprised by something
good
? She couldn’t remember. She had things she’d worked her ass off for, but a nice gift from fate? Maybe never.

Letting a few beats of silence pass, he continued the conversation. “So…you sort of grew up in Cedarville, but not really? People here talk about you as if you’d been here your whole life.”

“Hardly.” She sighed, plucking at the edge of a pillowcase and debating whether she should tell him anything about her life. It would open the door for something she’d been trying to avoid for weeks—hell, the last
year
. Letting him in, even a little, was a scary thought. Then again, he could ask just about anyone in Cedarville and they’d tell him anything he wanted to know. They did know her here, her past, but as she’d told him, such was a life in a small town. “I stayed here with my aunt Grace during the summers. My mom passed away when I was fifteen, so I moved here and finished high school.”

“No dad?”

“He took off when I was about six.” She shrugged, a short laugh spilling out of her. “What can I say? Bad taste in men runs in the family. Aunt Grace was married five times, mom had just dumped number four before she died, and I’ve been hitched twice. Unfortunately.”

“What happened?” There was no judgment in his voice, no demand, which was the only reason she was willing to answer.

“The first one was my fault. After my mom passed, I went a little rebellious. My aunt was good to me, but she was strict and I didn’t want to listen to anyone or follow anyone’s rules.” She took a sip of her wine, letting the mellowness of it roll over her tongue. With any luck, it would take the edge off of the pain slicing through her. “I hooked up with the town bad boy, we eloped to Seattle, and three years later, he still wanted the sex, drugs and rock and roll lifestyle. I was too young and stupid to know what I wanted, but I knew it wasn’t that. So, I dumped him and enrolled in a community college for business and cosmetology.” That had been a rough time in her life. She’d stumbled through figuring out who she was, and she had the emotional scars to prove it. Her heart wrenched even thinking about it. “I worked my ass off, but it was the first time since my mom died that I felt like I wasn’t completely…lost.”

“I’m sorry.”

Just that. No outpouring of sympathy or censure because she’d been a dumb kid. It was comforting, and her chest warmed.

She offered him a lopsided smile. “Thanks. It was a long time ago.”

“His loss.” He reached over and ran a comforting hand down her shoulder. A shiver went through her, half in longing for his empathy and half in utter awareness of him as a man. “I bet he’s still smoking pot and strumming his guitar.”

She laughed, and it felt like it straggled past a weight that had been pressing down on her chest for far too long. When was the last time she’d actually
talked
about this to anyone? Everyone knew about it—secrets were impossible to keep in Cedarville—but no one had ever wanted to discuss it with her. Not that she would have welcomed the topic, because, well, her past wasn’t great, so why not focus on what was good? Right now was awesome.

“How did husband number two happen?”

She sighed. “You know, I don’t really like to dwell on this stuff.”

“I told you about me… I’m just hoping you’ll return the favor.” He squeezed the back of her neck, letting her fall into silence for long minutes.

“Yeah. Okay.” She picked up a pillow and brushed a hand over it, wiping away an invisible crumb. He
had
shared his past with her. It seemed only fair, when he put it that way. “So, I was a stylist in Seattle for about eight years and I was doing really well—”

“What made you come back here?” He jumped on the opening, and she fought back a smile.

She bumped his shoulder with hers. “I’m getting to that, Mr. Pushy.”

“Right, sorry.” He shot her a quick, self-deprecating grin. “Keep going.”

Any urge to smile passed as all the ugly memories came flooding back. She swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “One day I got a call from Aunt Grace. She was sick. Breast cancer. It had already metastasized and spread…everywhere. There was nothing they could do for her except make her comfortable. So, I came back to live with her until the end.” Her heart cinched so tight it was all she could do not to cry. Even five years later, it hurt to have lost that old lady. The last of her family. Gone. Her throat closed, saltiness burning at the backs of her eyes. She realized her hands were balled in the pillow, and she consciously relaxed her grip. “It was the least I could do after she took me in as a hellion teen, you know?”

“Yeah.” His fingers tangled in her hair, brushing the short strands away from her face.

She cleared her throat, not allowing herself to lean into his touch. But she wanted to. God, she wanted to. “Husband number two was her doctor. I was still grieving over Grace, and he’d been through the end with me. It just seemed natural, easy. We were together for a couple of years, and we were both workaholics. I was trying to get Occam’s Razor off the ground and he was a doctor, so we were like ships passing in the night. We never saw each other.” Her shoulder twitched in a shrug. “It didn’t really surprise me when he left me for one of the nurses at the hospital. It did surprise me how little I cared.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” She braced herself before she turned to look at him. She had no idea what she’d see in his eyes—sympathy or pity or anything in between. Having put this behind her and not talking about it meant she didn’t know how other people saw her. Usually, she wouldn’t care, but somewhere in the last few weeks, his opinion had become important to her. More important than she’d like to admit. But there was only compassion in his green gaze. Of course, with his past he understood. He continued stroking her hair. His lips were a hairsbreadth from hers, he was so close to her now. “So that was the end of my second marriage.”

“I’m sorry.” He brushed his mouth over hers, the sweetest kiss she’d ever had. It made that hot moisture burn her eyes again.

She threw herself into his embrace, wanting the comfort that he offered, wanting anything that would distract her from the devastating emotions she’d dredged up. She shouldn’t go there, shouldn’t give in, because it would only weaken her more in this relationship war they waged, but right then, she couldn’t give a flying rat’s ass about
shoulds
.

The way he touched her was gentle, as if he feared she might break, as if she were precious to him. Her heart stumbled at the thought, and she wasn’t sure if it was in longing or in terror.

He broke his mouth from her, raining kisses over her face. “Have I told you today how beautiful you are?”

“No.” A dart of mischief went through her, and she seized on that instead of all the other things she couldn’t handle right now. Avoidance was her friend. “I know something you’d think was even more beautiful.”

That made him laugh. “Nothing is more beautiful than you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She wiggled out of his arms and moved toward her dresser, knowing he stared at her ass the entire time, and loving it. He made it clear how much he wanted her, all the time. It was erotic having him watch her, made everything else fade from her mind. Desire swam through her, warmed her body from the inside out. Her nipples gathered into peaks, the lips of her pussy dampening with moisture. Yes, this was how she wanted it. This was how it should be. Not to avoid pain, but just for pleasure.

She pulled something out of her dresser drawer and tossed it to him. His hand snapped out and caught it, then looked down at it. Evil anticipation twisted through her, and she just waited.

After a moment, his entire body froze, then a shudder wracked him. He slowly held up a sheer teddy. “Holy shit.”

“My normal lingerie is for myself.
That
kind of thing is for sleepovers.” She arched an eyebrow. “Should I get changed for bed?”

As if they hadn’t been in bed for hours, but that was entirely beside the point.

“Holy shit,” he said again. He looked up at her, his erection rising to impressive proportions, his mouth working for a long moment before he spoke. “So…you think I’ll think you’re even more beautiful wearing this?”