“You ready?” he asked, slipping his watch on.
“As I’ll ever be,” she replied, fusing a chipperness he suspected wasn’t real.
The drive to Springdale was quiet. Not the awkward, tension-filled silence of people who’d fought, but something closer to two people walking a high wire, afraid any unbalance would send them tumbling.
And again, he wasn’t clueless. Simply cautious.
They arrived at the restaurant and pulled up to the valet station at the front entrance. Mason circled around the front of his car, tossed the keys to the attendant, and opened the passenger door for Shonda. A smiling employee gave her a respectful nod, indicating she must be a regular.
Inside the grandiose restaurant, they pushed through the throng of would-be diners to reach the host stand. The man behind it studied them for a moment too long, as if sizing them up. “I’m sorry, sir. There’s a two-hour wait.”
Mason slid him a fifty. “You sure? Will you check again?”
The host glanced down, then said, “I may have been mistaken. The wait is only an hour and a half.”
Irritation surged. The fucker was an extortionist!
Shonda was biting her lower lip to keep from laughing.
With a resigned sigh, Mason slid another fifty across the stand. “And now?”
“Yes, I see. Here, I can seat you in approximately one hour.”
He was ready to reach across the podium when a distinguished older gentleman approached, his eyes locked on Shonda. A warm smile lit his face.
“Hello, Bella. When did you get back in town?”
“Hello, Papa.” Shonda stepped into the bear hug he offered, while Mason stood frozen. “I arrived this afternoon,” she added.
“You should’ve called. I would’ve had a table waiting,” her father said with mock sternness.
“I thought it would be more fun for Nico to play with my date.” She laughed.
There was an unapologetic glint in Nico’s eye.
“You’ll never find a husband if you torment the men you date,” her father scolded. “Come, I’ll take you to the private dining area.”
Color rushed to Shonda’s cheeks. “I’m not looking for a husband, Papa.”
Given her blush and her father’s skeptical expression, Mason wasn’t sure he believed her. The room grew hot, and he stopped himself from loosening his collar.
“Nico, give his money back,” Shonda ordered.
“No.” Mason lifted a hand. “He earned it.”
The sparkle in her eyes made it worth every dollar. He placed a hand on her lower back as they followed Luigi through the restaurant.
Their meal was extraordinary. One masterful dish after another arrived at their table. And Mason, a devoted foodie, couldn’t get enough. Italian cuisine happened to be a favorite, and tonight, the flavors practically brought tears to his eyes.
The dessert sampler was clearly Shonda’s favorite. The noises she made rivaled those from their earlier shower. He sipped his wine, mesmerized as she spooned a bite of tiramisu between her lips and closed her eyes in bliss. Next came the dark-chocolate gelato. Each of her reactions heightened his arousal. There probably wasn’t anything about her that didn’t turn him on.
Mason was so caught up in his Shonda Dessert Porn Fantasy, he didn’t register Luigi’s approach.
A firm hand clamped down on his shoulder, and he instinctively adjusted his napkin. Luigi’s booming laugh told him the move hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“What are your intentions toward my daughter?”
Mason sputtered wine across the table.
