“Fuck,” I whisper.
Tonight was too much—too much ofeverything.
Mom and Blaire had a conversation I couldn’t follow about dishes. Apparently, Blaire’s grandmother collects the same type as my mother. Wade fell into a conversation with my date about bridges. She talked whiskey with Boone and chatted away with Larissa about country music all the way back to the car.
It was surreal—not because Blaire could hold an effortless conversation with everyone in my family, but because it seemed right.
She fit in. She blended right in with the familial dynamics, even going as far as to silence Boone with a look when he started to get out of hand with a story about a woman named Gia. She acted the part of a member of the Mason family, and I liked it.
“You’re getting in so deep,” I warn myself.
I know she’s leaving and going back to her career. It’s more than a job to her. It matters. She has a fucking degree to practice law. She’s not going to throw all that into the wind and stay here.
I don’t even necessarily want her to stay.
Do I?
I don’t know what I want.
I know that having her in my home makes me want to come home. I know that seeing her hanging out with my brothers settles me. I know that the idea of curling up in my bed next to her in a few minutes is something that I’ve looked forward to since I left this morning.
But I also know that all of this shit has caused my work to slip. And I can’t have that.
“And that brings me right back to reality.”
I tug on my wet hair and feel the burn in my scalp.
There are a million things I need to be doing tonight instead of going to bed with Blaire. I need to go over our proposal to Landry. I need to call Wade and see what he decided to do today. I need to pore over the dollars and cents and make sure I’m investing my family’s wealth in the right way.
No woman is worth losing millions of dollars over.
Period.
I can’t risk it.
My heart sinks as the water shuts off.
Just enjoy it while you can.
Blaire comes around the corner with a white towel wrapped around her body. Her hair is still wet, but towel-dried enough that it’s not dripping. Her skin is flushed from the heat of the shower, and I want nothing more than to pause time.
“Hey,” she says softly. “I figured you’d be asleep by now.”
“I have to go downstairs and work a little bit first.”
“I get that.”
She walks across the room and stands in front of me. Her lips twist around as if she’s trying to figure out what to say. It’s only when she glances over her shoulder and then back at my bed that I realize what she’s thinking.
She doesn’t know where to go.
“Come up here,” I tell her as I scoot back toward the headboard.
A few seconds later, she’s crawling across the mattress. I stretch out and open my arms so she can curl up next to me.
She doesn’t hesitate. Her body molds to mine as her head rests on my shoulder. My fingertips trickle down the length of her arm, taking in the softness of her skin.
The room is quiet. The air is humid from the shower but cool. I kick the blanket folded on the edge of the bed up and tuck it around us.
