Turn Over(112)

I stormed out of the bathroom, grabbing the credit card off the bed on my way out of the suite.

“Hey, I’ll text you when my last meeting is over.” He tried to follow me to the door, but I closed it behind me, eager to make it to the elevator.

I didn’t need to be reminded where I ranked in Mason’s priorities.

I looked at the credit card in my hand as the elevator descended and smiled. If I was going to spend a day on my own, I was going to make it one hell of a day.



I knew it was late when I got back to the suite. Mason had sent three texts. I had given him enough time to set up five more contractor meetings if he wanted. My arms were loaded with shopping bags. I admired the new red polish on my toes. Red might be my new color.

I stepped off the elevator. Before I could use the room key, the door swung open.

“Where in the hell have you been?” He dragged me over the threshold.

“Shopping.” I dropped the bags in a nearby chair. “Meetings go well?” I walked into the bedroom, leaving him with my purchases.

“I called you. I texted. I didn’t know where you were.”

“You told me to shop. I shopped.”

He scratched the back of his head. His tie was on the bed with his jacket. He had pushed his sleeves up to his elbows.

“I also told you we were driving back as soon as my last meeting wrapped up. We should be halfway to South Padre by now.”

“I guess I lost track of time.” I shrugged.

“Get your stuff together. The valet is at the door.” His voice was low.

I didn’t know he could look angry. He always had a smile. A look that made women forget their own names. But right now he looked mad enough to enter a cage fight.

I packed my things, zipped the bag, and walked to the door. The valet had already loaded my shopping bags onto the brass cart.

Mason tipped him after the car was packed. He revved the engine and peeled out of the drive before my seatbelt was even fastened. He turned the radio up, blasting music through the streets of San Antonio.

I didn’t bother to look at him. I knew he was mad at me, but I wasn’t sorry. If I kept him off his precious schedule for a couple of hours, he deserved it. He had made me feel like an idiot. Like a weak, emotional, trusting fool. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

I stared out of the window while he drove us south to the island. Other than when he dropped his phone charger, neither of us spoke a word to the other. The music was loud enough to make speaking impossible.

The tires kicked up bits of gravel when he spun into the parking lot. He jumped out of the car and raced to the trunk. I grabbed my purse. He was already making his second trip to the top of the stairs with my bags when I stepped out of the car.

“I think that’s everything.” He slammed the trunk closed.

“Yeah, that’s everything.” I turned for the staircase, when I felt his hand on my arm.

“Before you go. You want to tell me what that stunt was you pulled today?” His eyes were fierce, brimming with storm clouds.

I shook off his hold. My racing heart was about to betray me again. “You told me to shop. I shopped.”

He chuckled. “That’s how you want this to go?”

“I don’t want it to go anywhere.” I dug into my bag for my wallet and retrieved the credit card. He’d know soon enough how much I had added to his balance. I handed it to him.

“Really?” He walked to the driver side. “I guess I was wrong about you.”

I glared at him across the car. “That would make two of us.”

I thought he was going to hop in the car and drive off. Drive away and let me wallow in the shitty decision I had made sleeping with him, skipping work to spend a day with him, trusting him with my family secret.

But he crossed in front of the engine. “I don’t know what I did to you to deserve what you put me through this afternoon.” He hung his head. “But I’m glad you’re all right. Good luck to you, Miss Paige.” He tapped on the hood of the car. “I’m sure you’re going to take the reporting world by storm.”

“What do you mean put you through?”

He stopped, his eyes landing on me. “It was fun, Miss Paige. We agreed when it wasn’t fun anymore we wouldn’t drag it out. This afternoon was not fun.”

I felt tiny prickles of panic sweeping through my chest. What had I done? It wasn’t anger that was swirling in those piercing eyes. It was worry. Fear.

“Wait, Mason.”

He closed the car door. “I’m sure I’ll see you on the island some time.”

“No, wait.” I threw my hands against the door, making it impossible for him to roll up the window. “Were you worried about me?”