Scanning the area, I assumed we were as alone as we would get. Clearing my throat, I leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “I need to talk to you. About a professional job.”
Thomas stopped putting food on his plate and stared at me. “As opposed to an unprofessional one?”
“What?” I was confused.
He waved his hand. “Never mind. What kind of professional job do you need? And for the record, as you know, I’m not a hitman. I drive the getaway car.”
I jerked my head toward him, eyes wide and almost giving myself a muscle cramp. “Crap,” I moaned, rubbing my neck. “I didn’t mean that kind of job.”
Thomas’s smile met his eyes as he reached up to squeeze my taut muscle. Never breaking his gaze, he tried to put me out of my misery. “Okay. Now I’m worried. Are you okay?”
I went back to rub my neck, but he knocked my hand away. “Stop. I know what I’m doing. I’m a professional.”
I snorted. “Did you have to go undercover to work as a massage therapist or something?”
“Not even close,” he said, digging his thumb into my muscle. Like some muscle wizard, the pain eased off. “Better?” he asked in a tone that drew my stupid heart to him.
I tilted my head side to side, then nodded. “Yeah. That’s pretty cool.”
He gave me the smile that reached all the way to his beautiful eyes. It was the one that drew me to him in Sacramento. “What’s going on, Champ?”
God, I loved it when he called me that.He’d given me his own special nickname to remind me I was a Super Bowl champion too. “It’s a long story, but I need some information about someone.”
Seemingly unfazed, he went back to putting food on his plate. “Is that so? Who are we looking for?”
Here we go. He was either going to think I was crazy or pulling his chain. “Me. I think I was stolen.”
His jaw twitched as he looked at me. “Well, I’ve got good news. I found you. You’re right there.”
My eyes narrowed as he gave up the ruse and laughed out loud. I tried unsuccessfully to keep from smiling, but it was impossible. This entire thing sounded crazy, I knew that. And after all the heavy feelings, it felt good to laugh with him again. Just standing in his proximity was enough. “I was being serious. A lot has happened since you’ve been gone.”
Thomas got himself together. His eyes lost some of their humor as he looked at me. “I’m sorry I left you for so long. I should have called. I’ve never had someone ask me to find them, and it struck me as funny. It’s been a long week.”
He never had to apologize to me. “It’s okay. I understand. You were busy.”
His eyes swept the crowd of people. “Let’s go inside and talk. Then you can tell me what’s going on.”
A heavy breath left my chest as I followed him toward the back sliding door. The weight began to lift as we headed inside. Everything was going to be okay now that he was back. I just knew it.
Chapter 4
Thomas
Something had Mason tied in knots. From the moment I met him over a year ago, there was something about him that drew me in. Around his friends, he was like a fly on the wall, but get him alone, and he was as loquacious as anyone else. It made me wonder why he didn’t show that side to everyone. He was fun as hell and made me laugh without even trying. To say I enjoyed our unexpected friendship was an understatement. I’d missed him when I was in Ireland, and evidently, he felt the same way.
We found a place to talk in the dining room. I spread my napkin across my lap, then picked up my fork to disassemble the chicken shish-ka-bob. “Tell me what I missed?” The first bite of rosemary and garlic burst across my tongue, making me hum. Mason’s eyes met mine before he looked away. “Good, huh?”
I nodded, then pointed at his plate. “You should try it.”
“Yeah.” He stared down at his plate, then pushed the food around as if he were looking for the perfect bite. But I knew what that meant. Whatever was on his mind was heavy, and he needed to get it off his chest.
“Stop stalling. What’s going on? You know you can tell me anything.”
“I’m not stalling. Not really.” He paused, then attempted to change the subject. “How was Ireland?”
I raised a brow. “Green.” I motioned for him to start talking. “Come on. You’re making me nervous. And I don’t get nervous.”
He sighed and sat back in his chair. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.”
