Page 54 of His Saving Grace

Mason swung down off his horse. His right foot hit the ground and his mouth twisted. Seemed like being in the saddle aggravated his leg. He stepped over next to her and Buttercup and lifted his hand to help her down. She was definitely not as graceful. She swung her leg over fine, but her other foot somehow got caught in the stirrup, and she ended up falling into him.

He grunted and staggered a bit at the unexpected full-body contact, wrapping his arms around her to stop her from hitting the ground face first. Mortification washed through her, and she buried her hot face against his chest.

“Sorry.” The apology was muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt.

“No problem.” His voice was gruff, deep. He slowly lowered her to her feet, and every inch of her softness pressed against his hardness. The entire way down. The ache inside her flared white-hot.

She stared up at him, not moving away, staying in his space. The pulse at the base of his throat beat fast. The urge to press her lips to it, to taste him, overwhelmed her. He leaned down, and she thought he was going to kiss her. She held her breath, more than ready. Then, at the last second, he pulled away and turned back to the horses.

Disappointment shot through her, the breath escaping her lungs in a rush. She tried to not let her frustration show, but she wasn’t sure she managed it. To cover, she turned away, running her hand through her hair. It was a rat’s nest, or at least rat’s nest adjacent. Not sexy.

With not much else to do, she wandered back into the meadow in search of her hat. Maybe she’d misread the situation. Maybe, in the cold light of day, he wasn’t feeling the same things she was. Maybe he was taking the talk with his mother to heart. Maybe this was nothing more than him just showing her around the property. All friendly like.

She picked a purple wildflower, tucking the blossom behind her ear. Maybe it would give her an exotic vibe. Without a hairbrush, there was little else she could do.

He’d seemed to enjoy himself in the truck last night. He’d also kissed the living daylights out of her on the porch. But then, he’d refused to come in. At the time, his reasoning seemed sound. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

Gah, she was totally over thinking this. Making herself crazy.

From now on, she was taking everything as it came her way. No analyzing, no picking everything apart, no jumping to conclusions. She was going with the flow and letting whatever would be, would be.

And now Que, Sera, Sera was stuck in her head. Because that wasn’t annoying or anything.

She spotted her hat and bent down to pick it up. She briefly debated putting it back on, but what was the point? Besides, she wasn’t sure her hair would fit back under it now that it’d been left to run wild.

She turned and her heart catapulted itself into her throat when she came face to face with Mason. Well, face to chest. Jesus, for such a big guy, he was as stealthy as a freaking ninja.

“Everything okay?”

“Yup,” she said and held up her hat. “Just grabbing my hat.”

He stared at her hard for a second and then nodded. The narrowed eyed look he gave her made her think he didn’t quite believe her. She smiled and forced the tension that had built in her shoulders out, pushing all the negative thoughts out along with it. She needed to be more mindful of her emotions and what she was projecting.

Why did he have to be so damn perceptive?

They wandered back to the horses and the beautiful spot he’d picked out, a tense silence pulsing between them. Why did she have to be such an over-thinker? Everything was good, she was happy, having fun, and then her stupid brain took over. Dammit.

When they got back to the shady spot, Mason untied the picnic basket and handed it to her. “You take care of this and I’ll take care of the horses. The creek water is clean and refreshing, so feel free to freshen up if you want.” He gave her one of those sweet smiles and some of her self-inflicted anxiety melted away. He then grabbed the horse’s rein and walked them over to the water, so they could drink.

The basket weighed a ton, so she placed it on the ground. She popped open the lid and found the same red and white checked blanket they’d shared the night before folded on top. She peeked underneath it and encountered a bounty of food. No wonder it was so heavy.

She spread the blanket on the grass and got down on her knees to begin unloading their dinner. There was fried chicken, potato salad, biscuits, slices of apple pie, cookies, strawberries, cans of soda, bottles of water, and a lovely bottle of red wine. It was enough food to feed an Army. Or at least the Callahans.

She looked up. Mason strolled toward her, his thumbs slung through the front belt loops of his jeans. Jeans that accentuated his long, lean legs. She indicated the bounty in front of her with a sweep of her hand and a cocked eyebrow.

He just smiled and shrugged. “Picnics are kind of our thing.”

Grace laughed. It was true. And the fact they had a ‘thing’ made her insides tremble a little. It had to mean something, right? He wouldn’t have said it otherwise.

Enough. That was not living in the moment and definitely over thinking things.

She scooted over to make room for him, since their picnic took up so much space on their makeshift table. He sat down with a groan, and she bit back a laugh. Part of her wanted to make an old man joke, but she wasn’t sure their relationship was at that place yet.

Looking down at her hands, she realized she did need to freshen up. She stood and walked to the water. Mason’s gaze licked at her skin the entire time. She added a little extra sway to her hips. Since she wasn’t facing him, she didn’t try to hide her grin. Maybe she hadn’t misread the situation, after all.