Delivering His Gifts: A Mountain Man's Baby Christmas Romance(9)

My cheeks flushed at the unintended hint toward my sex life.

I stammered. “Just, well, I know I can come off as cold sometimes, especially toward men.”

“Well, I can’t say that I blame you. Many men are assholes,” he said.

“Exactly. Sure, I know not all men intend to do women harm, but I’ve not been the best at picking them, that’s for damned sure.”

I took another sip of my cocktail. It had tasted of cranberry juice and some tropical fruit flavors, but it was nothing but melted ice now, with barely a hint of flavor. I contemplated ordering a second one but decided I shouldn’t let my guard down. Mason seemed like a great guy, and I’d heard nothing but good things about him around town. But he was still a man, and if I was interested in him, it made me think there had to be something wrong with him – red flags I was ignoring in favor of staring at that chiseled jawline and broad shoulders.

As if the bartender could read my mind, she walked over and asked, “Would you like another?”

“I think one is enough,” I murmured, handing her my cup of melted ice. “But thank you.”

“No problem, sweetie,” the woman said. “Let me know if you need anything else. A water, a Coke, maybe?”

I didn’t really want my time with Mason to come to an end. “A Coke would be nice, thank you.”

“Sure thing. One Coke coming right up.”

The waitress was a pretty young thing with a thin waist and large breasts. Her red hair fell to the middle of her back in long ringlets. She was gorgeous and likely just old enough to be working in the bar. Most of the men in the place were staring at her body, but not Mason. His eyes were on me. Attention like that could do wonders for the self-esteem - not that mine was low or anything. I knew I was pretty. But I also wasn't a twenty-one-year-old redhead with a tiny waist either. I’d had a kid and at least ten years on the waitress.

“So you never answered my original question.”

“What question was that?” he asked, taking another pull from his beer.

“Why did you go into the service and decide to become a medic?”

“Oh yeah, well, it’s not the most interesting story, let me tell ya,” he said with a shrug. “My dad and grandpa were both in the military, and my brothers and I always looked up to them. My oldest two brothers - Graham and Sam are twins and they went into the Navy like our father. The rest of us followed suit when we were old enough to join. For me, I wanted to follow our grandpa, who I was really close to. He was also a medic and his stories about serving in World War II always fascinated me, so when the time came to enlist, I figured why not follow in his footsteps?”

“And was it a good decision?”

Mason sighed and leaned back into the booth. He stared off into space for a second, not focusing on anything. I thought he might not answer me, but eventually, he said, “Yes and no. There are experiences that made me who I am today. Good experiences. I learned a lot. But there were other experiences I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I’d prefer to leave it at that.”

“And you’re certainly within your right to do that,” I said.

He’d not asked me much about my life or Greg, and I appreciated that he didn’t dig into my personal life. I owed him the same respect, even if I did have a desire to know more about my handsome, strong client.

“So you’ve always liked dogs?” he asked, obviously happy to change the subject.

“Not just dogs, all animals,” I said. “My family ran a small farm, and I grew up with chickens, turkeys, goats, and a couple horses too. We had several acres of land, and my mom was a softie. She always took in stray dogs and cats. We had so many, most of them animals that were overlooked or abandoned. Dogs missing limbs, cats missing eyes, you name it.”

“Sounds like you take after your mother then,” Mason said with a genuine, sweet smile.

“I did. She was an amazing woman.”

“Was?” Mason cocked an eyebrow.

“She died of breast cancer five years ago, sadly,” I said softly.

“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s never easy losing a parent.”

“You’ve had that unpleasant experience as well?” I sipped my Coke, and because of the seriousness of the topic, I wished I had some rum to put in it.

“Yeah, my dad died not that long ago,” he said. “Which is what brought me to Liberty, in fact.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. He was looking for my half-brother, Jack. He never found him, but my brothers and I did - it was my father’s dying wish.”

Mason averted his eyes, staring at the beer bottle in front of him. There was a sadness there, one I wished I could wipe away.

“Alright, let’s change the subject to something not so depressing,” I said.

Mason looked up at me, and there was a curious look on his face. He studied me for a second before saying, “You made me promise I would only talk about work and I—”

“We’ve already discussed this, Mason. It’s fine. I’ve changed my mind.”

“I just want to respect your wishes, Danielle.”

The way my name rolled from his tongue sent chills down my spine. His southern drawl was so damned sexy, he could recite the alphabet and I’d go weak in the knees. But something about hearing my own name… well, that was a whole other level of hot right there.

“You’ve been a perfect gentleman, Mason. Thank you.”

Mason turned the bottle around in his hands.

“What?”

“Well, I need to drive at some point, and since it’s getting late, I figure I better stop drinking.”

Again, I didn’t want the night to end. Even though I knew, at some point, we’d have to part ways and I’d have to go back to my lonely house without my daughter and try to sleep. It had been so long since I’d been out with another adult, especially an adult man, and I hated to admit it, but I was having a good time.

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from saying something I’d regret. I stared down at the table where someone had carved their initials - A.M and C.F, wherever you are, I hope you’re still together, I thought to myself, running my fingers over the heart that encircled the letters. At least let there be some hope for love.

“What’s that face for?” Mason asked.

I tried to look as casual and normal as possible when I met his gaze again. “What face? It’s just my usual one,” I said, forcing a laugh.

“You just looked a bit sad, that’s all.”

Sad because I don’t want the evening to end, yes, but I’m not going to tell you that.

“I don’t get out of the house much. I mostly work and take care of Skyler and all the critters. Most of the time, the rescue is filled with animals, and while I have a few volunteers, I do most of the work myself.”

“So you’re saying you’re having a good time?” He had a smug look on his handsome face.

“Yeah. I am,” I admitted with a smile. “It’s rare that I get to socialize with adults, and it’s nice.”

He continued staring at me with a crooked smile on his face. “This was nice, Danielle,” he said slowly. “Thanks for taking the time to come out with me.”

Was nice. He was already talking in the past tense, meaning the night was coming to a close. Dammit.

“No, thank you,” I said. “For pulling me out of the house and giving me much needed adult time.”

Mason slapped some bills on the table - more than enough to cover my drinks and his. I reached for my wallet and paid for my own anyway. It would just mean the waitress would get one hell of a tip.

Mason slipped out of the booth, and I followed him. We’d taken separate vehicles. I had parked my car beside his pickup truck, so we walked between the two of them to say our goodbyes.

Except I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

“Well, I guess…” Mason started to say something, but I placed my fingers against his lips to silence him.

“I’m not ready for the night to end yet.” My voice came out breathy, and it didn’t sound like me.

“What do you want to do?” Mason asked. His voice was deep and low. His eyes narrowed, as if he knew what I was about to say but didn’t want to make any assumptions.

I bit my lip and stared up at him, unable to find the words myself. I licked my lower lip, imagining what his tongue would feel like in my mouth.

I didn’t have to imagine for long.

That look was enough of an answer as any, and Mason took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. His beard tickled against my face; his kiss was soft and sweet. Hesitant, even.

He pulled away, and I audibly gasped, “Nooo, please…”

“Are you sure?” His grey eyes were almost black.

“I’m sure,” I said.

“Sure sure? Because earlier you seemed to want to keep our meeting professional and—”

I didn’t let him finish his sentence. I pressed my breasts against him and stood on my tip toes, kissing him and silencing him for good.

There was no argument from Mason, no more asking to be sure I wanted this. My hand grazed his crotch, bringing a low groan from his lips. My eyes widened as I felt the size of him through his pants. My Lord, I thought, I want this man so much. I could feel the heat growing between my thighs, the need to have him inside me taking over, making me forget about anything and everything else in that moment.