End of story.
“I dare you, Peppermint,” I breathe against the soft touch of his lips.
His mouth moves slowly against mine; an explosion of pent-up feelings spew out of me like I’m an erupting volcano and he is the earthquake that triggered it. All the years I’ve spent enclosing the love I have for him with boards of hate and nails of fault fade away. I’m left with raw love and a grateful heart for the path that got us to this moment. The Mason of three years ago was not what I needed, but this Mason is. He’s sure, steady, and level-headed without losing his sense of humor and flirty nature. And his faults, which seem to primarily lay in his lack of patience, are not deal breakers to me.
And this is what our first kiss should have been like. What it should have tasted like…
Peppermint coats my tongue. My arms move to wrap around his neck while his other hand joins the one already pressed against my back. I joyfully press my body flat against his as he deepens the kiss with a low, rumbly groan.
We stand there, working in tandem to show each other just how much we mean to one another, soaking in each other as the world disappears around us. Three years was worth the wait. This version of Mason is everything I wanted and so much more.
A throat clears, and I release Mason from the jail cell that is my arms, though Mason does not let me out of his grip. We are breathing heavily, and I’m positive I’m wearing the same expression as him: fire burning in half-moon eyes that scream desire for so much more…
“Okay, let’s begin the next shoot, please,” the director calls again, clearly uncomfortable with PDA. I can’t blame him. It’s not for everyone...
Looks like the two of us don’t mind, however.
The corner of Mason’s lips twitches before he drops one hand from my back. He weaves his fingers through mine and gently squeezes as he pulls me impossibly closer, his fingers splaying across my lower back.
For the rest of eternity, there will be a Mason-sized handprint seared into my back.
“Let’s get this over with so that I can take you on a real date tonight, Karoline Renee Wright. One that we both view as a date. To the diner because I want to show you just what I should have done when you confessed to me three years ago. And I will warn you, it involves many sober kisses and innocent touches and me adoring you like you deserve to be adored. Be prepared,Little Ma’am.”
His use of my full name sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach, not to mention his straightforward intentions. And heaven help me, I can’t wait!
“Sounds like a plan,” I say, though my voice comes out hoarse, like I’m in desperate need of a gallon of water. I clear my throat. “Sorry. Yes, I’d like that very much.”
Mason walks us the short distance to where the camera man needs us for the next part of the shoot. I sneak a glance at Hadley, who is giving me two thumbs up. She then proceeds to make kissy faces, and I roll my eyes.
But I also smile.
I’m scared senseless, but this is Mason.
His favorite color is olive green. His favorite song is “I Walk the Line” by Johnny Cash. His favorite food is a medium rare steak with a big helping of mashed potatoes. He’s a flirt with a huge heart, and though a total ladies’ man, he is loyal to a fault. Not once over our years together did he ever cheat on a woman; in fact, he was the one mostly dumped.
Mason is kind, generous, and cares too much for his own good. He donates to a variety of charities, he is always interacting with his fans, even when he’s exhausted and tired after a show, and he is intentional with every move he makes.
Though I haven’t been around Mason in three years, my social-stalking has paid off. It’s like we never skipped a beat.
Masonhaschanged, and not once have I read an article where he got drunk or was caught drinking with friends or had wild nights with women.
His reputation has been spotless.
Mason Jonathan Kane is sincere.
The boy who left me three years ago is no longer in existence; in his place is a sure and steady, hardworking, dime of a man.
And I’m cashing in on him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mason - One Year Ago
“I’m going to builda home here.”
“There's no way,” Rob says, pacing a hole on the stage that’s in the process of being taken down. The summer heat is oppressing, much like my mood at the moment. Last night’s show here in Biloxi was a huge success, but that’s not why I want to move to Mississippi.
I saw her.
