Jerk face, the most adorable jerk face in the world, is standing next to her and smirking innocently at me withan arched eyebrow.
Forcing a smile, I say, “Sure, let me get my coat.”
The ride into the neighboring town is quiet, the sky is cloudy, and the weatherman predicted snow for this afternoon. Mason’s big truck is so spacious inside that it’s easy to keep a large distance between us.
But that doesn’t mean that his familiar spicy and manly smell isn’t invading my senses and reminding me of every time he’s touched me. Memories of his naked chest, arms and wrists keep passing through my thoughts.
I keep my gaze on the scenery outside the passenger window, my palms tucked between my knees.
As we pass by the horseracing track, I notice there are so many cars that they are parking in the grass close to the horse stables. I didn’t think the horses race in this type of weather. Maybe the track is being used for something else this weekend.
The Christmas tree lot is a sea of green with trees of every shape and size to choose from. When Mason puts the truck in park, he says, “Wait there.”
The part of me that is angry with him for his comment about us not being able to get any closer wants me to open the door and get out. To prove to him that I don’t need his fake chivalry.
I knew when he took me to his hotel room that it was just sex, I get it, but I guess after seeing him every day I’ve become fond of having him around. I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t sting a little when he voiced that we couldn’t get any closer than just sex. I just need to remind myself that’s all I am to him, that’s all I’ll ever be to him.
Unable to help myself, I push the door open and hop out just as he gets around the front of the truck. I don’t need chivalry from a man who is just using it for an endgame.
I know, I’m a total hypocrite.
He comes to a stop next to the tire as I push the doorclosed, I pull my stocking cap over my ears and mumble, “I got it.” I don’t look at him as I walk past him.
His lips tip up and he waits for me to walk past him into the sea of trees.
“So, what are we looking for?” I ask as we walk down a lane of evergreens.
Instead of his usual work boots that he wears in the barns, he has on military boots with his jeans. Combined with the Carhartt work coat and his ball cap, he looks even bigger and hot as hell.
I wish he didn’t have this effect on me.
His head moves slightly in my direction, but I can’t see his eyes behind his aviators. “Marley likes them tall and fluffy.”
I nod my head, and we walk in silence as we look over each tree that we pass.
After a short while, he says, “What about you?”
Pausing to look at a tree, I let the aromatic evergreen limb slip from my hand as I continue walking, “What about me, what?” I’ve been avoiding looking at him as much as possible and keep my eyes on the trees.
The path is suddenly blocked, and I whip my head to see him standing in front of me. “You’re mad at me.”
What do I say? Do I look for a resolution for the anger and hurt that I feel from his comment yesterday, or do I deny and hold him at arm’s length until he leaves?
I have no right to ask anything of him, not even for what will probably be a fake balm to the sting his words left. There is no reason to pretend anything with him, we’re nothing to each other, staying angry will probably make everything easier, especially when he goes back to work.
Convincing myself to appear indifferent, I take a deep breath, “There’s nothing to be mad about, let’s just get this over with so I can go back to work.”
He takes his sunglasses off and folds them, his blue eyes never leave mine, and for several moments he is quiet. His eyebrows pinch together for just a second and then his jaw ticks like he is battling with himself about something. “About what I said last night.”
Rolling my eyes, I try to step around him, “Don’t worry about it.”
His arm shoots out in front of me and his hand is on my hip, pulling me closer and making me tip my head back. His face softens, “I am worried about it. I didn’t mean for it to sound the way it did, I don’t think of you as a convenience. In any way.”
All the air in my anger balloon starts to leak out and I shrink a little, the warmth in his eyes almost looks like affection, I can’t think of him like that. All I can do is nod.
“Am I forgiven?” His voice is soft and the little voice in my head that craves closeness, and a normal life is screaming ‘YES’.
For some reason tears prick my eyes, the emotion surprising me, and all I want to do is lean into him, into his strength, for just a minute. Just a minute to feel like a normal woman talking to a man. I look away and blink back the tears as I remind that desperate little voice just who we are.
