“And this sudden decision has nothing to do with the fact Aria recently moved to Dearborne?”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Bennett supplies, pleased that his wife came to the same conclusion.
If the movie wasn’t blaring over the inground speakers, we’d hear crickets. That’s how quiet Mason gets. It also tells me everything I need to know.
I never understood why he and Aria broke up. He was head over heels for her. Completely smitten. Their relationship’s demise is the one thing Mason has never talked to me about. Looks like he may want a second chance.
“Shit, babe. We need to get going. Flight leaves in two hours,” Bennett says, looking at his phone.
A flustered Harper panics because they were supposed to leave for the airport an hour ago. “Dammit. Come on. The car is already packed. No time for goodbyes,” she says, but Bennett stops to hug both Mason and me bye before being yanked away.
Mason slings his arm around me. “Think they’ll make it?”
“Fighting Houston traffic at six? Who knows.”
“That thing is cool. I want one.”
Mason regards the inflatable screen that is the size of a drive-in movie theater’s with envy.
“You live in an apartment,” I remind him.
Not wanting to leave a mess for someone else to clean up, I pick up everyone’s discarded plates and Mason snags the glasses left out, and we carry them into the kitchen.
“Not for long. I found a small two-bedroom bungalow near the McIntyres. I made an offer on it yesterday.”
“Mason, that’s amazing. And I get first dibs on a sleepover,” I tell him as I put the dirty dishes in the sink.
“Trash bin?”
Mason tosses in the soda cans once I pull out the cabinet door that contains the trash and recycle bins.
He leans a hip on the counter island next to me. “This place feels sterile. It’s a little creepy,” he comments, taking in the pristine white cabinetry and quartzite countertops.
Fair observation since I had similar thoughts about how empty and lonely the entire house feels. It has no personality. Nothing that offers the warm, comforting, welcoming feeling you’d expect of a lived-in home filled with family. It’s basically a massive house of bare bones.
“It’s called modern chic. And stop evading telling me the real reason you’re moving back to Dearborne.”
He expels a loud puff of air. “I screwed up with her. Badly. And I’ve regretted it ever since. And before you ask me if making such a huge life decision is worth it, I will assure you, it is. Even if she doesn’t give me a second chance, I’d still make the move.”
“Because of the job offer?”
He nods yes.
“Okay.”
One simple word of acknowledgment.
“Thanks, Dee.”
A raised voice outside the kitchen catches our attention. Then another, this one deeper and more masculine.
Mason and I look at one another.
“Mike and Angel?”
“No,” I reply.
The deep voice belongs to Jordan, the sound close. He and Daniella must be in the hallway right outside the kitchen.
