Sometimes Never (27 page)

             
I take a look at myself in the full length mirror. My stomach flutters. The pink shoes match the pink in my hair almost perfectly. I thought the white would wash me out since I’m already so pale, but with my dark hair, it actually contrasts nicely. The dark eyeliner makes my eyes look bluer and the thin straps show off my shoulders and collar bones. Areas I know Mason likes for some reason. I tug the bottom of the dress afraid when I walk my scars will be visible.

             
I sigh. He already knows about them. He’s touched them. Kissed them. I feel the heat move up my neck and over my face with the memory. I take a deep breath and turn away from the mirror.

             
“Get down there,” Annie urges. “I can’t wait for him to see you.”

             
She heads down before me, nearly running so she doesn’t miss Mason’s reaction, which is exactly the one she was hoping for. He stops, midsentence, as I round the corner. Eyes go wide as they slowly study me, head to toe and back up again. My heart beats quickly, waiting for him to say something.

             
Standing from the couch, Mason clears his throat. He doesn’t look away from me as he says, “I’ll see you later, Guy.”

             
Guy chuckles. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He frowns as I laugh. “No, seriously, there isn’t much I wouldn’t do. Shit. Don’t do anything I would do, either.” He takes two steps after us, running his hands through his hair. “You aren’t going to a movie, are you?”

             
I bite my lip and glance up at Mason. He’s still staring at me. He takes my hand and shakes his head. “Nah. No movie.”

             
“Okay. Good,” Guy sighs. “She has to be home by twelve.”

             
Mason pauses, finally looking at him. “I know. I’ll have her home on time.” He smiles at Guy’s disheveled appearance. “I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

             
“Bye, Dad,” I tease as I kiss Guy’s cheek.

             
“Ha. Ha. Ha. You’re so funny, Hope.” Guy crosses his arms, but kisses the top of my head. “Have fun,” he says.

~***~

              As soon as we hit the bridge, I realize where Mason’s taking me. I smile at him and he squeezes my hand. “The Pond?”

             
“The Pond,” he agrees. “I like it there.”

             
“I do too.” A shiver runs through me as the memory of our first time there replays in my mind. I glance up at the dark clouds and wonder how long we’ll have before the rain hits. Maybe it’ll pass us by.

             
Pulling to a stop, Mason turns to me. “I don’t really know what to say about this.” He gestures at me before brushing his fingers over my hair. He regards me nervously and my stomach tightens. “I want to tell you you look beautiful, but I know you don’t like that.” He dips his chin toward his chest and presses his lips together. “Is it all right if I say that I couldn’t breathe for a minute when I saw you? Or that it took every last ounce of self restraint to not start making out with you in front of Guy and Annie? Because the only thing that held me back was the idea you wouldn’t like that very much.”

             
I grin at him and make a show of looking around. “They aren’t here now.”

             
Mason leans into me, trailing kisses from my ear to my jaw. When he moves to my chin I drop my head so he meets my lips instead. I open my mouth against his, parting his lips in the process. He murmurs something indecipherable and sinks into the kiss. I twist my fingers into his hair and he groans, pulling away slowly.

             
He licks his lips, one corner pulling up, showing off the dimple that I will never get enough of. “I’m all for staying in the car kissing you, but I packed you a picnic. Are you hungry?”

             
Oh, yeah, but not for food. “Starving,” I whisper.

             
Mason stares at me so intensely my pulse picks up. I watch his throat as he swallows and a little high pitched noise bubbles in my own throat. My chest is moving quickly as my breathing accelerates. The desire building in this car is overwhelming.

             
We move at the same time, crushing into each other. Mason’s hands cup my face as he kisses me hard. I scramble closer until I’m in his lap, the steering wheel against my back. He slides his fingers down my neck, my chest, my stomach. Glides them under my dress. Over my thighs, around my hips. He grips my back and pants against me.

             
“I cooked for you,” he says in between kisses. His voice is thick, causing goose bumps to raise the hair on my arms.

             
“You cooked?”

             
He nods, his lips moving against my neck. “Ravioli.” He flicks his tongue over my pulse. “Bread.” He nips gently at my shoulder. “Chocolate.” He skims his nose over my collar bone.

             
“Chocolate?” I breathe.

             
“Mm-hm.” His warm tongue slides into the indent below my throat and I tremble. “I could feed you and then I could kiss you. I wouldn’t mind doing both at the same time. I want to taste chocolate from your lips.”

             
Oh. Hot. Damn. Yes, please. I nod as his mouth devours mine.

             
“Best date ever,” he utters. I laugh and climb off his lap. “Wait here while I set everything up.”

             
I watch Mason as he spreads a dark blue blanket out on the grass and then empties the contents from a large box. He lights candles, placing them along one side of the blanket and I smile. He’s trying so hard. I can’t believe he cooked. I didn’t even know he could. After he’s satisfied with everything, he turns back to the car, opening the door for me.

             
“This is awesome, Mason. I love it.”

             
He arches a brow and sighs. “Don’t commit to that just yet,” he replies. He guides me to sit and opens a container. “Mushroom ravioli with homemade tomato sauce.”

             
I try not to recoil from the evil container, but seriously, mushrooms. I cringe and Mason laughs that full body laugh. “I told you I was going to introduce you to veggies.”

             
“Mushrooms are fungus,” I squeak. “Not food. We can readdress this when I have an infection. And even then, I think I’d rather die.”

             
He laughs again as he wraps his fingers around a fork. “Just take one bite,” he says softly. “If you hate it I’ll take you to get a cheeseburger.”

             
I watch him poke at a ravioli and shiver. “Promise?”

             
“Promise.” He brings the fork to my mouth and I hesitate for only a second. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I pull up my big girl panties, close my eyes, and take the bite.

             
I open one eye and peek at his uneasy expression as I chew. Then I open the other eye. “Mmm. Oh, my Buddha, this is really good.”

             
Grinning, Mason leans in for a kiss, licking sauce from my bottom lip. “Delicious,” he mumbles. He hands me the fork and I dig in. He’s cute, funny, and he can cook. I think I’ll keep him.

             
“You said something about bread…?”

             
He nods, opening another container. “Zucchini bread. Also homemade.” He rips a chunk off the small loaf and offers it to me, laughing at the irate look I give him.

             
“You put a vegetable in the bread? That’s just sick.” I pluck it from his fingers and smell it uncertainly. But it smells incredible. I take a small bite. It’s almost gooey and tastes more like cake than bread. It’s so good. “What the hell? You’re a wizard.”

             
“I prefer warlock,” he says leaning in for another kiss. He apparently wants to taste everything on my lips. “I brought your grape juice as well.”

             
“Not homemade? I’m so disappointed.”

             
“Maybe next time. I’ll buy a juicer first thing tomorrow.”

             
“Where did this come from?” I ask between bites. “The cooking, I mean.”

             
He shrugs. “Mom’s Italian. She loves Italian food, but she can’t cook to save her life. Dad and I used to find recipes and try them out. Some of them I’ve made so many times I know them by heart.”

             
“Like mushroom ravioli?”

             
“No. Like homemade sauce and noodles. Mom hates mushrooms.”

             
I shoot him a look. Funny. Jerk. “Do you cook a lot?”

             
He looks out at the water and shakes his head. “Not a whole lot. I’ve taught Kel how to make a few things. Mom does most of the cooking now. Our menu is pretty small. We’re restricted to the few things she doesn’t burn.” He chuckles and finishes his last bite.

             
“Thank you for cooking for me,” I whisper. “I love everything. I love the food. I love this place. I love this whole night.” I tuck a curl behind my ear and glance down at my now empty bowl.

             
His fingers brush my cheek before lifting my chin. He caresses my lips with his thumb. I open my mouth enough for him to feel my tongue as I kiss his smooth skin. “I love your hands.” Mason’s body trembles in a way I’ve never seen, encouraging me to continue. I work my way over his palm, then wrist, leaving kisses up his arm. “I love your arms.” When I’m cut off by his shirt, I move to his neck. He growls and I feel it against my lips. “I love your neck.”

             
He shifts, taking hold of my head, fingers tightening into my hair. He brings his mouth to mine and kisses me with urgency. I lean into him, pushing him back until we’re lying down. “I love you,” he breathes. “I love you. I love you.”

             
I feel a drop of cool water hit my shoulder. And then another. I ignore it, too absorbed in the way Mason makes me feel. More drops hit my skin, picking up speed and I finally pull back. Rain hits my face and I hold my hands out.

             
“Of course,” Mason groans, “it would rain.” He sits up and starts shoving everything back into the box while I blow out the candles. By the time we get the blanket folded, thunder rumbles in the sky. He takes my hand and pulls me toward the car. “I’m sorry. I should’ve checked the weather.” He shakes his head as he opens the trunk.

             
“Hey,” I say grabbing the side of his shirt. “I like the rain.”

             
He slams the trunk closed and turns to me. It’s raining hard now, soaking my hair and running down my face. “I had this all planned out. We didn’t even have dessert.” He blows out a frustrated breath, sending a mist off his lips. All I can think about is how the rain will feel on his mouth. Against my mouth.

             
“Shut up,” I say as I pull him against me. “You can be my dessert.”

             
One of the things I love about Mason, he just goes with it. He embraces me, lifting me onto the top of the trunk and stepping in between my legs as our mouths come together once again. He moves to my neck and I let my head fall back. The rain cools my face and my hair clings to my arms. I push my knees into either side of his waist. His warm hands slide over my wet body and he moans loudly.

             
“Jesus, Hope. You have ruined me. I love you so much.”

             
I find his lips again, desperate for his kiss. His closeness.

             
Our eyes meet, gazes locking as the water plasters our clothes to us. Lightening illuminates the sky as more thunder shakes the ground, ending our moment. He takes my hand and we stumble into the car, drenched from head to toe. His white shirt sticks to him like an extra skin, revealing every defined muscle in his arms and abdomen. His dark hair lies across his forehead, dripping over his eyes. He’s never looked more gorgeous.

             
Mason grins widely. “All right. I can officially say I love the rain.”

31

Mason

              God, Hope looks amazing wet. And that little white dress—yeah, I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes on the road. She smells so good too. Her raspberry scent mixed with the rain fills the car. I can’t tell if I’m in Heaven or Hell. I’m fighting the urge to pull over and find out.

             
Hope turns the heat on. Her teeth are chattering and that helps sober my desire some. But she looks damn good shivering too, so not by much. I take her cool hand in mine. “I’ll get you home,” I assure her.

             
“I don’t want to go home.”

             
I glance at her. “You’re freezing. You’re soaking wet. You need to get something warm and dry on.”