My Best Friend's Brother(7)

"Where are we headed?" I asked.


"You'll see."


We pulled into this little shack of a place that sat right on top of a  rolling hill. Not a soul was in sight except for a waitress who sat us  at our seat and a chef in the back. A bartender was sitting at the bar,  waiting for our drink orders, but all I could do was gawk at the view  from our seat.


It was nothing but grass, trees, rolling hills, and sky, and I was absolutely mesmerized.


"I found this little place while I was joyriding my first day in Dallas," he said.


"I had no idea this place existed. It's incredible."


"Wait until you try their steak," he said, grinning.


There were two glasses of red wine set in front of us, and I quickly  picked it up and put it to my lips. I felt like he was trying to peel  back my layers with nothing but his gaze. I knew his end game would be  sex. It always was with men like him.


The question was, though, was that my end game, too?


"So, where do you go after Dallas?" I asked.


"Ah, here and there a bit. We're almost done with the interview part of this process."


"What process?"


"Rehabilitating my image or some such nonsense," he said. "But enough about me. Have you always lived in Dallas?"


"Yes," was all I offered.


"Is your family from around here?"


"Yes. Where's your family from."


"Oh, here and there," he said.


He was being guarded, and it was painfully obvious. He wanted to know  all about me without offering up a bit of detail about his life. I was  not about to break down my walls for some playboy and tell him my own  personal sob story while he sat there and tried to be some sort of  shoulder while my emotions poured forth from my broken soul.


I wasn't playing into that hand tonight.


The dinner was pretty stunted with neither of us opening up to one  another. The conversation was light, painted with topical conversations  like the weather and places we wanted to visit someday. Apparently, he  didn't want to visit anywhere. He wanted to buy an island and make it a  place people visited.         

     



 


Fucking shocker there.


But at the same time, there was this overwhelming desire. Even though I  offered up absolutely nothing about myself personally, his eyes sparkled  every time I spoke. His foot kept scooting closer and closer to mine  like he was trying to get as close as he could. Maybe it was my third  glass of wine talking or maybe it was how lonely I realized I'd been for  quite some time now, but I realized what my end game was.


I realized if he offered up his home, I'd go back with him.


"Tell me, do you have plans after this dinner?" he asked.


"You mean going home and sleeping so I can prepare for tomorrow's interview? Yep."


"Sounds so boring. You don't strike me as a boring woman," he said, grinning.


"What did you have in mind?" I asked.


"Well, I wondered if you would reconsider my offer."


"What offer?"


"The offer to accompany me back to my house," he said.


He was leaning forward like he was anxious for my answer. I lost myself  in his piercing green eyes and his chiseled jawbone. I could cut glass  on the slope of his cheek, and suddenly, I couldn't take my eyes off the  veins bulging in his neck.


"I think I would enjoy reconsidering that offer," I said, grinning.


"Wonderful."





Chapter 6


Mason


I had her right where I wanted her. It took a damn bit of work, but I  finally got her to cave. I took her to my vacation home in Dallas that I  kept off the radar from the press, and I could tell she was shocked the  moment we pulled up to it.


"Wait a second, I thought you were visiting Dallas?" she asked.


"I am. I don't live here permanently. Our headquarters is stationed in Los Angeles."


"So, whose house is this?" she asked.


"Mine," I said, grinning.


"So, you have a house in a place you don't frequent much?" she asked as I opened her door for her.


"Who says I don't frequent much?"


"Quit with the shit. Why are you staying in a hotel when you have a house here outside of Dallas?" she asked.


"It's a newly acquired home. I've always enjoyed Dallas. I've got a bit of family in the area."


"Really? Who?" she asked.


"Well, we're estranged now, but I bought this home in the hopes of  trying to repair things between us. Consider it a hope-based purchase."


That was all I offered, and it was more than I'd offered over dinner.  The curious look she sent me told me she was wondering what might've  happened to my family, who they were and why I was estranged from them.


I ushered her through the front door of my country home, and she took it  all in as she entered. It looked like most of the plantation houses in  the area. White with dark shutters. A wrap-around porch. The hardwood  floors were new, but a lot of the old character of the place had been  preserved delicately.


"It's a beautiful home," she said.


"Only because you're in it."


She whipped around at the sound of my voice and I nodded for her to  follow me. I was holding two wine glasses and a very expensive bottle of  red wine. I knew it wasn't smart of me to have any more alcohol, but I  wanted to relax her as much as possible before the festivities began.


"Care for another glass?" I asked.


She sat down next to me on a cozy little couch near a window that  overlooked the backyard. Sprawling acres of land draped heavily in the  darkness of the Dallas countryside. The stars came out to play,  twinkling as I pressed a full glass of wine into the palm of her hand.


"To good times with beautiful sights," I said.


"To reparations with families that don't deserve us," she said


We clinked glasses, and I studied her intently. I crossed my leg over my  knee as my eyes danced all over her body. She kept her sight trained on  the window, probably wondering why in the world I had a couch facing  it. But I was more interested in her toast and where the statement had  come from.


"I drink my coffee on this couch in the mornings. At least I will, when I'm here more often," I said


"Have you not stayed here yet?" she asked.


"Nope. I'm breaking it in now," I said, grinning.


"I take it the sunrise is calming over the trees?"


"The sun doesn't actually rise on this side of the house, but it does set over here."


"You drink coffee in the evenings?" she asked.


"Doesn't everyone?"


We giggled together, a light sound that filled the stale corners of the  house. I found myself wanting to know more about her. About her family.  About her upbringing. I wanted to know what she was like as a kid. If  she ever had aspirations this great. I wanted to know what her  five-year-old self wanted to be. Maybe a ballerina or a princess.         

     



 


"Does your family not deserve you?" I asked.


"What?"


"Your toast. I have a feeling you weren't just talking about me," I said.


I could tell she was pondering the statement or pondering whether to  answer it truthfully. I sat there and watched her, hoping she would  simply cave in.


"I'll answer if you answer," I said.


"No, they don't."


"Why's that?" I asked.


"My father was dealing drugs out of our garage, and instead of my mom  leaving him to come get me, she let the foster system raised me."


"Funny how some moms do that," I said.


"Do what?"


"Abandon their kids."


"Is that what your mom did?"


I paused as my hold on my glass tightened. For a split second, I thought  I was going to break it. I thought the glass was going to shatter all  over the couch, and the red wine would stain the fabulous suit clinging  to my body.


A body I saw her eyes quickly stealing glances at.


"She left when I was sixteen. We had a falling out when she married a man I hated and had a daughter I hardly talk to."


"You have a half-sister you don't speak with?" she asked.


"Yep. Every time we talk, she just wants me to reconcile with Mom. Not my train to start. She's the one who left."


"Why did she leave your father?" she asked.


"No clue. Figured he might've cheated or something, but he swears he  didn't. My Dad's a good man. A hardworking man. She had no reason to  leave him."


"Sometimes, for women, it isn't always that easy," she said.


"To give up something that could be so good for you?" I asked.


I could tell that question cut farther than I meant it to, and she took a  very big gulp from her wine glass. It was obvious she was done with  this conversation and all the avenues it could possibly take. And I  didn't blame her. I was delving into territory I wasn't comfortable  talking about, either, so I decided to turn the evening down toward the  track we both knew this was going to take.


You know, if she didn't slap me against the face first, but that was a  chance I was willing to take to feel those legs wrapped around my body.