“I know you must be tired.”
“Luckily he takes care of them, but it’s a lot of fucking dogs. Come on.” Xeni followed her out the back door and was struck breathless again when she glanced around the yard. They’d bought paper tablecloths and cute disposable flatware, but Xeni wasn’t expecting floral centerpieces and candles and more twinkling lights. She also didn’t expect the sight of Mason in full Scottish formal wear playing with a toddler and puppy to catch her so off guard. She grabbed the railing and pretended she was protecting the hem of her dress instead of stopping herself from falling down the stairs.
“Miss Palila, can you come inside and help mommy get ready?” Liz asked her daughter. The little girl held a fist full of something Xeni couldn’t see to her chest.
“Can Dirt come?” Palila asked.
“No, Dirt can stay outside. Come on. Daddy will back soon. We gotta get ready.”
“So Uncle Mason can get married.”
“That’s right. Come on.”
“Here,” she handed off whatever was in her hands to Mason, then shimmied past Xeni and made her way up the stairs.
“It’s your lucky day, Dirt.” Mason bent over and fed the golden retriever puppy a handful of treats before he dusted off his palms and turned Xeni’s way.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She walked across the grass, which was enough to send the little dog scurrying away. “No Dirt, come back.”
“He’s got a lot of work to do, that Dirt. I was trying to teach Palila a magic trick using the treats. Poor Dirt was sick of waiting for his reward.”
“I take it Palila picked out that name.”
Mason tapped the tip of his nose.
“Love it.”
“You’re a bit early. What brings you by the farm? You got plans here tonight?”
“I got a little antsy tearing my aunt’s house apart looking for that thing, so I decided to get ready. Then by the time I was ready, I realized how much time I still had and got antsy again waiting, so I just came over.”
“Well, you weren’t the only one who jumped the gun a little.” Mason motioned all the way down to his shiny black shoes and up to the socks wrapped around his large calves.
“You look sharp.”
“As do you. Thank you.”
“Uh, so I know this isn’t for real real just for play play, but I thought maybe we should have, like, one conversation about us before we tie the knot.”
“Not a bad idea. Someone should know about the illegitimate children I have scattered about this hemisphere.”
“Too soon, bro,” Xeni responded automatically, even though part of her wasn’t bothered by the innocent joke.
Mason’s expression blanked out. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”
“It’s fine. First things first. Let me see your hands.”
Mason was clearly confused, but that didn’t stop him from stepping closer and presenting Xeni with his upturned palms. She took his right hand in both of hers and turned it over. She looked closely at his neat and clean fingernails, and had to stop herself from running her fingers over his unexpectedly soft skin.
“Do they pass inspection?”
“Yeah… yes. Sorry, I have a thing with hands.” That was an understatement. She had a downright hand fetish. This whole arrangement was strictly business, but that didn’t stop her from imagining what it would be like to have Mason’s hands on her body or between her legs. That wasn’t going to happen though. Fingerbanging wasn’t part of the deal. She turned his hand to the side and saw a line of puckered skin that stretched halfway up his pinkie.
“What’s the scar from?”
“Waffle iron. Forty leaf peepers came through town and I was determined to get them all fed and out the door so they could stay on schedule. I paid the price.”
“Honorable. I like it.” She dropped his hand and then took a step back, putting her arms behind her back so she wouldn’t be tempted to inspect any other part of him. She went on with her twenty questions. “Uh, what’s your pet peeve?”
