I stare into those cool blue eyes, fear holding me back. As completely weird as it sounds, I think what I need isn’t words or grand gestures. I need to feel the truth. In my gut. I have to know if the man I love is truly standing right here in front of me. If I have that, then I can leave the door unlocked.
I get up and walk over to Mason. “Kiss me.”
“Sorry?”
“You heard me. Kiss me.”
He doesn’t hesitate. Mason lowers his head and presses his mouth to mine, kissing me deeply. I place one hand on his cheek, noting the thick texture of his beard over his strong jaw. It takes a moment for me to let go and simply try to feel, not think or analyze. But when I do, it’s there. Heat. Magic. My body responding to him at a primal level that feels so right and perfect and sexy and, fucking hell, so good that my panties are getting wet and my nipples are getting hard and his hands are gripping my hips in that way that makes me feel like he owns me and he knows it and he wants to fucking take me right here and—
I push away and break the kiss. “That’ll do.” Panting, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, my lips and face flushed with heat. Jesus. My heart won’t stop racing.
Mason’s brows shrug in confusion; his hurried breaths match my own. “What was that?”
I know he’s not asking me what that was. A kiss. He’s asking what just happened. What does it mean?
“It means that I’m agreeing to get to know you. All of you. On my terms. At my own pace.” I want a fairy tale, but it has to be real.
He’s about to say something, but we’re interrupted by the sound of a screaming baby.
Olivia appears in the living room. “He pooped.” She pushes Russ toward Mason. “Mason, meet Russ. Russ, meet your daddy. Buh-bye. Call ya later!” Olivia hightails it out the front door.
I look at Mason, whose arms are stretched out gripping Russ under the arms like he’s some weird object Mason doesn’t know what to do with. Suddenly Russ locks his big brown eyes to Mason’s and the two just stare at each other like they’re mesmerized.
“Mason, I’d like you to meet your son,” I say softly.
“He’s beautiful,” Mason says, like he’s never seen anything so amazing. Then Mason’s blue eyes fill with tears.
Must be the smell? Nah, Russ is really gorgeous.
I take a deep, soul-filling breath. Yes, he is beautiful. I stare at Mason gushing over his son. I didn’t think anyone would ever love this baby as much as I do. Now I see that I was wrong.
And somehow I know that when he grows up, he’ll be generous, dedicated, and independent, but most of all, he’ll know that love is everything.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Oh, come on, Ginnie. She’s not going to bite you.” Holding the reins, Mason rubs the sides of his scruffy jaw, trying not to laugh. Meanwhile, I’m gaping into the eyes of a Godzilla-sized brown horse named Sprinkles with white speckles on her legs. Not even Mason’s smokin’ hot fuck bod, in a tight white tee and worn button flies, can tear my attention away, which is saying a lot. It’s been taking every ounce of self-control I have not to give in to my attraction for him. Especially when he gives me those smoldering looks.
Still, a deal’s a deal. We had the one kiss back in New York. I told him there wouldn’t be another until I knew for sure how I felt because lust isn’t enough. But, damn, do I lust this man. Now I’m wearing thin, and not because of my attraction.
It’s been over a month since Russ and I moved back to Colorado with my mom. Mason followed the very next week, and we’ve seen each other every day. Sometimes he takes Russ for walks in the stroller. Sometimes we all eat dinner with my mom and her ever-knowing eyes that secretly urge me to get on with it and make Mason mine again. She knows I love him, but I’ve been too scared to jump right in.
Still, that doesn’t mean that the tension building between us hasn’t been excruciating. I can hardly stand the swoon sensation I get when I see Mason hold Russ and the two make goo-goo-bros-for-life eyes at each other.
Then there’s the fact that Mason is more dedicated to Mr. Wish, Inc., than ever before. Only now, it’ll be run out of Colorado.
Turns out, he never sold this ranch. Also, turns out that when Mason was young, he wanted to live somewhere quiet and peaceful with horses. The busy demands of his parents’ business and social life wasn’t his speed. A place like this was always his wish, and when I found that out, it cemented in everything Mason said: he and Marus were never different men. I think that’s why he first offered me this horse ranch as my wish. It was his way of sharing something about his true self, the one who was waking up.