“Grab some plates and a beer, and I might consider it,” he answered. I wasted no time and dashed to the kitchen.
He had barely put the brown bags down when I was in the living room, holding out his beer.
“Thanks,” he said and took it, giving me one of his smiles that made his whole face light up.
I stared at him, imagining what it would be like to run my tongue over the dimple in his chin. Thankfully the smell of the food pulled me back to reality. I got the containers out of the bags, all seven of them, and took the lids off. After I shoveled a mountain of food on my plate, I looked up at Mason, who was watching me with a smirk.
“Don’t judge me; you got most of my favorites,” I said.
I moaned when I took the first bite, savoring the sweet and sour flavor.
The sound made his eyes heat up. His attention made me swallow the half-chewed food in my mouth.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I looked back at my food, hoping he wasn’t expecting me to eat like a rabbit.
“I am. But I think I enjoy watching you more,” he said and filled his own plate.
We ate in silence while watching a game, and I managed to finish the whole plate.
“Are you missing a sweatshirt?” he asked after we’d both put our plates down and were watching the game. Well, he was watching, I was studying his profile, wondering if I should bring up what happened last night or just go to bed. I didn’t expect him to ask about my clothes. I’d already had a whole conversation about last night in my head, and I figured he would want to talk about it as much as I did. I was ready for the conversation but didn’t know how to bring it up.
“A sweatshirt? What? Why? I mean no,” I answered.
“I found one in the barn that looked a lot like one of yours.”
“Wasn’t mine. Nope. Definitely didn’t lose it anywhere.”
“I guess the shoe that was in there as well doesn’t belong to you either? Size eight, pink?”
“I’m a size seven.”
“Right. So you also wouldn’t know why there was an extra blanket in with the puppies and the goat was wearing Arwen’s collar?”
“Who’s Arwen?”
“The dog with the litter.”
So that was her name. A bit strange for a dog, but okay. “How would I know? I guess you must have forgotten you did that last night. By the way, you must have also braided the pony’s hair.”
His lips twitched and he tilted his head. “Yeah, must have forgotten about that. My bad. That was a great idea I had there.”
I tried to hold back the smile that wanted to form. “It was. It must have been a damn good braid to last this long.”
He nodded, his lips tilting up in a smile that lit up his whole face. “I’m known for my braiding skills.”
I started laughing and flopped back into the couch. “Fine. I was out there, snooping. But all I found was a new barn and happy animals. No body parts or blood anywhere in sight. It was a bit of a letdown really.”
He nudged my side. “Guess you haven’t been to the basement then.”
“So why do you have so many animals?” I couldn’t help but ask.
He grunted noncommittally. “I didn’t want any animals. Love dogs and used to have a cat. But I work a lot, so it didn’t seem fair to them. I found Loki on the side of the road when I was driving home one night. His leg was broken, and he looked like he’d been to hell and back. Was only a puppy. Got him to the vet who fixed him up. Nobody came looking for him, and it was either me or the shelter. So I took him.”
That was a decent thing to do. I was impressed, but no way would I say that out loud. “What about the rest of them?”
Mason settled deeper into the couch. “The donkey, Lola, belonged to the guy I bought the farm from. He was going to get rid of her. But she’s old and nobody wanted to take her. So she stayed. The pony, Wilbur, is from the circus. Knows heaps of tricks and is an escape artist. So always make sure you latch the gate properly. He hurt his leg when the circus visited last summer, and it looked pretty bad. The vet remembered me and asked me to keep him in the barn until the circus owners decided what to do with him. That was a year ago and he’s still here. Arwen is one of my buddy’s dogs. He didn’t know she was pregnant until she gave birth. He lives in a one-bedroom apartment, so he asked me if I could take her. The horse, Fable, was dropped at my doorstep one night. No idea who left her there, but I kept her.”
Oh no, it was official. Mason Drake was a good guy—I was in so much trouble. I loved listening to him talk. I creepily watched his mouth the whole time he told me about his animals. I was also ready to reassess my life choices after listening to him. I had no home, no animals, no job—not really, since the one I currently had came with an expiration date—and no money. Mason was only a few years older than me and had his life together, more than anyone else I knew. It’s possible I could have grossly misjudged him.
