Double Dealing(119)

His voice trailed off and he looked me in the eyes. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like they were watery.

I must be imagining things, I thought. Mason never cries.

“One day what?” I asked, my heart in my throat.

Mason dropped his hand from my cheek and turned away from me. “Nothing.”

He walked over to his computer and sat down. “You can go now. I have shit to do.”



* * *



Mom set the pot roast she was holding down in the middle of the table and placed her hands on her hips. “Why do you always have to be so difficult?” she demanded, breaking me out of my reverie.

I nearly gagged. Me? Difficult? What planet was my mother on? “I’m not being difficult, Mother,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m just standing up for myself.” Besides, I was doing my best to avoid Mason. Out of sight, out of mind. That was my motto, and that’s how I planned to get over my crush.

I just hope seeing him today doesn’t send me back into a tailspin, I thought.

“I asked you to go see what was keeping him. What does that have to do with standing up for yourself?” Mom demanded.

Ugh. “Mason can do what he wants, Mom. I’m just here to enjoy myself, not play messenger for you.”

I sighed. She really wasn’t going to stop until I’d done as she asked.

“Melissa is doing great in her studies,” said Hugh Gardener as he walked into the dining room with his wife and Brian trailing him. “So good that she thinks she’ll finish a semester sooner than she thought.”

“Oh really?” asked Brian as he came around to the head of the table. It never ceased to amaze me how much Mason looked like his father. Brian could be mistaken for his older brother if not for the gray streaks in his hair and the wrinkles around his eyes. “That’s wonderful. I think the same thing will happen for Carly with her journalism pursuit. She’s such a hard worker.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Hugh said, pulling out a chair on the left side of the table and sitting down. “She’s always been a very driven young lady. I’m sure she’ll make a great journalist.” He beamed at me.

“Thank you, Mr. Gardener,” I said politely.

“Oh hi, Carly,” Anne Gardener said as if it was her first time seeing me that day, grabbing a seat next to her husband. “How have you been, dear?”

I flashed a fake smile. “Fine,” I replied. “Just setting the table for Mom.”

“Such a good girl,” Anne complimented.

My fake smile widened.

My mom beamed at our guests, giving no hint that she’d just been bitching at me just a few seconds earlier. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Thank God,” Hugh said, rubbing his stomach. “I haven’t eaten all afternoon.” He frowned. “Where’s Melissa?”

“I think she said she had to use the bathroom, dear,” Anne replied.

Anne flashed a smile at my mom. “You’ll have to forgive him, he forgets things sometimes.”

“Now, now Anne,” Hugh said. “Don’t’ go spreading rumors.”

Anne playfully tapped her husband on the arm. “You know I’m just playing.”

Hugh grunted noncommittally. “Right.”

“Carly, can you go up and see what’s keeping Mason?” asked Brian. Though he tried to hide it, I could hear the anger in his voice. Mason, with his cocky attitude and massive ego, always made sure he was the last to arrive. “I told him to be down here by now.”

I bit my tongue. I usually had the temerity to defy mom, but I often did as Brian said, especially now since he was paying my tuition.

“Okay,” I said cheerily, flashing another fake smile at the Gardeners. “Be right back!”

As I walked out of the dining room and into the hall, mom had to get the last word in.

“You should’ve done it already,” she hissed under her breath as I passed her.

I kept walking right on by, and even managed to keep the fake smile on my face. But as soon as I hit the stairs, my grin morphed into a scowl.

I should’ve never even came, I thought sourly. Then I wouldn’t have to be subjected to this crap.

“Mason!” I called as I reached the top of the stairs. “It’s dinner time.”

Of course I received no response.

“Mason!” I called again, moving toward his room.

When I reached his door, I was about to knock when I heard music and the sound of . . . creaking wood?

I slowly turned the knob, surprised that it was unlocked, and swung the door open.

A gasp escaped my lips. Chiseled ass, strong muscular thighs, powerful hands squeezing breasts. And Thrusting. Lots of thrusting.