“What didyou need to talk to me about?” Mason asks, not bothering to drop his hand after we turn the corner, out of sight.
“Hmmm? Oh, nothing.” I shake my head, trying to force my mind to focus on Mason’s fingers. They’re warm on my back, only a few inches above the rise of my jeans.
Unfortunately, I’m still with Brandon. As happy as I am that Mason provided an escape, I can’t help but wonder what Brandon was going to say.
What about us? What about Sadie?
Something’s not quite right with the whole situation, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what. Or maybe I can—Brandon’s dating someone who isn’t me.
“How long did you date?” Mason asks, his voice as casual as can be.
Startled, I abruptly stop. “What?”
He turns, his eyes bright. “Brandon. ‘Good friend.’ Guy who looked like he was going to murder me just for touching you.”
I stretch my neck, not particularly wanting to have this conversation. “We never dated.”
His eyebrow creeps up, and his face crinkles with incredulous mirth. It’s a good look on him—boy next door with a roguish charm. “You sure about that?”
Sighing, I turn to face him. “The timing was never right.”
“Do you like him?” He cocks his head to the side, studying me like an impartial observer.
Irrationally amused, I laugh. “Most guys avoid these sorts of conversations like the plague.”
Mason edges closer, which makes me eye him with suspicion. “I sing about love for a living. I’m no stranger to the topic.”
My mouth goes dry, and I can’t seem to pull my gaze from his as I answer his original question, “No…maybe. Okay, yes. We’ve known each other forever. It’s all a bit murky.”
“Which explains why such a pretty girl is so jaded. How long were you and Sadie friends before she started dating Brandon?”
“We weren’t.”
And finally, I’ve thrown him. Mason thinks about my answer for several long moments before he finally asks, “How in the world did you form your bake-off partnership?”
I go into the whole story about Riley and her posters and Sadie’s grandmother. Mason is surprisingly easy to talk to. I even admit why I transferred home from Texas, though I feel like a fool for saying it out loud, especially tohim.
We’ve ended up by the massive stone fireplace, on a pillowy leather love seat by the windows.
My knee is up on the cushion, with my back against the armrest, and my whole body is angled toward Mason. I’m still wearing my apron—I never took it off after the judging, and I toy with the long tie, rolling it between my fingers.
“So, your sister’s in love with me, huh?” Mason says with a wicked grin.
“No. Riley wasinfatuatedwith the idea of you, with your heart-stopping smile and the pretty lyrics in your songs.”
He taps my knee and leans forward. “You think my smile is heart-stopping?”
Forget his smile; the look he’s giving me right now is enough to make me melt.
I bend forward. “You tend to only hear what you want to, don’t you?”
“Usually.”
Suddenly, I realize we shouldn’t be doing this. Mason might have been bumped to host, but he’s still a guest member of the HBN team. I don’t want to give anyone a reason to think that there’s more going on between us than there is. If they do, and they push hard enough, Tammy might decide I’m causing a conflict of interest, and Sadie and I will be booted out of the competition.
Reading my mind, or possibly noticing my hasty scan of the area, Mason chuckles under his breath and leans back so he’s not so close. “I think it’s all right.”
We’re mostly alone except for a few of the lodge employees and an occasional crew member. Most of the contestants are still in the dining area, obsessing over the comments made during judging. Some of the teams, like Chrissy and Christy’s duo, are sharks, and get enormous amounts of joy from people doing poorly.
