Yeah, I still have to figure all this stuff out, but for the moment, knowing that my wedding has been canceled and not feeling anything loom over me in terms of today’s needs, I feel like I can kind of relax for a little bit. A rarity for me.
It’s not like he’s letting me leave and as of now, it’s not like I have anywhere I need to be. It’s not like I haven’t protested and told him the truth about the witchcraft, the fact that I don’t believe this is real. If he’s choosing to believe it and wants to give me a retreat with great food, a relaxing setting, and life-changing sex? I’d might as well soak it in for a little while at least. Reality will come crashing in as it always inevitably does. And he can’t say I didn’t warn him.
Though, I already know that when the crash happens, despite me trying to protect myself, it’s still gonna hurt like hell.
***
Mason jolts up out of what seemed like a deep sleep, looking tweaked.
He catches me staring at him from the pillow beside him and shakes off a stupor.
“Your phone dinged twice a few minutes ago and you didn’t move. Delayed reaction?”
“Your mother’s here. So are you, astonishingly.” He looks down at his stomach. My hand is splayed there.
“Nobody rang the bell.” I snatch my hand away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. He grabs it and brings it to his mouth, eyes crinkling as he does.
“She’s just pulling in.” He releases me and then rubs his eyes while throwing his legs off the side of the bed. He rises and stretches.
God, he’s got sexy back muscles.
“How do you know she’s pulling in?” I ask.
He touches the side of his nose, then leans over and kisses me.
He lifts his phone from the table beside the bed and glances at the screen.
“Gotta take a leak; can you answer when she rings?”
“Yeah, I…”
“But no getaway attempts.” He leans over and kisses me again, rumbling against my throat with a low growl that pulls goosebumps up on me. “Don’t make me chase you again today or I might have to punish you.”
He heads for the bathroom, leaving me tingling.
“Threatening me might make me want to run,” I warn, but there’s no fire in my voice. Not angry-fire at least. I’m feeling quite turned on instead.
He pitches a grin over his shoulder at me and goes into the bathroom while scrolling his phone. He doesn’t close the door.
“Maybe I’ll run just to see what you’ll do about it,” I tack on with haughtiness.
He pokes his head back out and with a sexy, dark look informs, “I look forward to that.”
Now my face is hot. Burning hot, because I’m now thinking about what Ivy said on the phone about being punished with sex and the look on Mason’s face when she said it. It sounds like fun.
My phone vibrates. I find it on the carpet and lift it to see a text from Mom.
I’m here.
The doorbell rings.
I’ve been lounging in Mason’s bed in just my tank top and thong. I quickly pull my jeans on and rush down the stairs.
When I open the door, Mom is wearing a blinding smile with her eyes dancing. She’s holding a bag with the Apple logo on it and her minivan is backed into the driveway behind Mason’s truck. The hatch is open, and it’s jam-packed with stuff.
“Trouble finding it?”
“None. Thankfully you gave me your coordinates instead of directions,” she teases.
I snicker. It’s the truth; I’m terrible with directions.
I look my mom over. She looks good today. Better than I’ve seen her look in a while. With the stress in her life the past year, it seemed like she was suddenly aging more rapidly. But today, for a change she doesn’t look tired. She suddenly looks younger. Like her worry lines are becoming laugh lines. It’s like she’s got a new spring in her step as she comes in. And it’s refreshing to see… seeing what my mother used to be like before my father fucked her over.
My sister and I look like Mom. But I’ve got Dad’s dark hair and Ivy got Mom’s blonde. We have Mom’s eyes. Our brother has Dad’s eyes and Dad’s hair. When we were kids, Dad joked that my sister was Samantha and I was Serena from the TV show Bewitched. The blonde sweet one and the dark-haired vixen. Dad always dropped comments like that about me and it wasn’t until recently that I realized how much it bothered me to be referred to as the evil twin.
But truthfully, Ivy is the sweeter one. The dainty little lady. I’m bigger, older, louder and bossier, but that mostly comes from being so protective. Protective of everyone around me.
“Amie. This place!” Mom wanders in with her eyes pivoting and mouth dropped open as she takes it all in.