“I don’t think I could eat another bite.”
Mason’s smooth laughter floated over her. “It’s the movies, Em. You gotta have popcorn at the movies.”
His fingers brushed against the skin of her neck as he helped her with her coat and Em didn’t withdraw. No inappropriate reaction. No . . . fear. He’d taken a potentially terrifying experience for her and managed to make it casual. Even fun. Em smiled to herself, realizing that she was. She was having fun.
***
Em couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in a movie theater. When they walked in to find two different couples already going at it in the back row before the lights even went down, Em panicked. Was that what he was expecting?
She took her seat, anxiously rubbing her hands together in her lap as Mason somehow managed to pack in the popcorn. How he could possibly eat any more was beyond her. She felt like she might explode just watching him. Their entrees had been enormous, but she’d forced herself to clear the plate, all too aware of the fact that you can never be sure when and what your next meal might be.
The theater darkened and Em held her breath, prepared for the inevitable freak out she was bound to humiliate herself with, but Mason kept his eyes glued to the screen and his hands on the popcorn bucket. By halfway through the movie, when he hadn’t made a single move to kiss—or even touch—her, Em began to relax and really enjoy the show. He’d lean over to make the occasional joke or comment, but that was it. She could deal with that.
When the lights came back up and Mason stood to gather their jackets, her racing heart eased up a bit. She’d done it. She’d survived her first real date. Still, she was anxious to get back to Ash’s. All that anxiety was exhausting and she felt like she could sleep for a week.
Her eyes began drifting shut on the ride home and when they pulled into the drive, Em had to drag herself out of the truck. Mason walked her to the front porch, where she stood awkwardly trying to figure out what came next. She couldn’t just invite him in. It wasn’t her house. And yet, he seemed to be waiting for something.
“I . . . um . . . had fun.” Em winced at her stupidity.
“Me, too.” Mason grinned, seemingly amused by her floundering.
It wasn’t going to get any better by standing there opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water. Best to just get it over with. “Well, thanks. Good night, Mason.”
“Good night, Em.”
She was about to reach for the door when his hand wrapped around the back of her neck. Mason reeled her in as his head bent to meet hers and she stiffened, fight or flight instincts kicking into high gear. His eyes flicked from her lips to meet hers and he froze.
“You’re not ready for this.”
“No. I’m not. I’m sorry, Mason.” Her voice came out breathless, mainly because she’d forgotten how to breathe.
He released her, taking a step back and Em inhaled deeply.
“No apology needed. We’ll just try again next time.” Em hesitated to agree, unsure she’d ever be ready to kiss anyone other than Jay. “Or am I being too presumptuous? Do you not want to see me again?”
“No, I do. I just—”
“Good because I do, too. There’s this band playing downtown next Sunday that I think you and Ash would enjoy. You should both come. It’s my birthday. We can celebrate.”
“Oh, okay. Sounds like fun. I’ll let her know.” Em back toward the door, feeling guilty over how badly she wanted to put it between them.
“And Em?” She paused, glancing back at Mason’s sincere expression. “We can take as long as you need. I’m not in any rush.”
***
Saturday morning brought with it an unseasonal warm spell. After collecting the mail, she sprawled out on the ancient wooden swing on the porch, that was more than likely to give her splinters, to sort through it. All of her mail—not that she really got mail—still went to Jay’s address, so she was really only sorting out the junk for Ash. That’s why she was surprised enough to sit up and take notice of the envelope addressed to her.
The only other time she’d received something here it had turned out to be a very useful gift from Mason, so she didn’t know why she was so hesitant to open this one. Perhaps it was the way her name was handwritten in sharp, harsh letters that almost look like a threat in themselves. Or the fact that the handwriting wasn’t familiar. It wasn’t Mason’s, and it certainly wasn’t Jay’s. Who else knew where she was?
Carefully peeling back the flap, she let the contents fall into her lap. Paper. Plain white paper. Nothing scary there. Em flipped it open and gasped.