I was unfortunately never even under him.
“Oh, well that’s good to know, since there’s a chance he’s about to walk right in here.”
“What?” My head snaps in Dylan’s direction, then toward the front of the shop.
My eyes go round. Mason walks past the large window and reaches for the door. The grip on my coffee tightens.
What the hell is he doing?
“This should be interesting,” Joey murmurs as the chime sounds overhead.
I swallow uncomfortably, nearly choking on my own saliva.
Mason steps inside the shop, his hand now carrying the coffee he obviously went back for. He levels me with a perfectly casual smile, as if he didn’t just have his tongue in my mouth five minutes ago, then immediately notices the other two bodies in the room.
“Ah, it’s good to see ya again, mate. Didn’t catch your name yesterday.”
Joey takes Mason’s hand into a firm shake. “Yeah, you seemed a tad bit distracted with the chick next to me.” He shoots me a quick, cheeky glance, then turns back and jerks his chin. “It’s Joey.”
I smooth down the front of my shirt as the three of them exchange introductions. My cleavage pops out another inch. Completely accidental and not at all done for his benefit.
Mm. Maybe he’ll notice tomorrow when he stops chatting up my friends.
Mason gestures at Dylan’s belly. “When are you due?”
“A month. I’m hoping for sooner though. I’m so sick with this one.”
“This one? Don’t tell me you have more than one already. You look too young to be a mum.”
“Ha!” Dylan’s face lights up. Her hands form to her belly. “Oh, my God. You just became my second favorite male.”
Joey whips his head to the left, his eyes wide with alarm. “Second favorite? Excuse you?”
I cough into my fist, breaking up the gab fest I’m in no way a part of. Three pairs of eyes train on me as I slowly retreat toward the kitchen.
“I guess I’ll just go get to work, since there’s apparently no need for me to hang around up here.”
Mason’s mouth pulls down.
I quickly regret my half-serious remark as his noticeable remorse tenses up his features.
God, why do I even care? And am I seriously irritated that he’s taking a moment to be polite? What is wrong with me?
He takes a few steps in my direction. I halt at the corner of the display case.
Dylan pushes against Joey’s shoulder, urging him to walk. “Come on. I need your help with something in the back.”
“You never need my help,” he snaps, then smiles back at her before the two of them slip into the kitchen, leaving Mason and I alone.
I move my coffee to my other hand. I’m suddenly feeling restless and too hot to drink such a warm beverage.
Mason gives me a lazy smile as he slowly advances. “Little devil. You ran off.”
My feet shift underneath me.
Jesus, his voice. Like honey coating the back of his throat. Sweet and warm. His words slow to leave his tongue.
I force my mouth to close.
Oh, my God. How long was it gaped open for?
Barrier. I need a barrier.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask, swiftly moving behind the display case. I set my coffee on the back table and fold my hands neatly on the glass. “Your stalker level is quickly rising, you know. First the coffee shop, now you’re coming to my place of business. Should I alert the authorities yet?”
Mason cocks his head with a curious smirk, then moves to stand directly across from me. “Wait until I find out where you live.”
“What?”
He chuckles. “Relax, gorgeous. I’ll keep it professional, yeah? No house calls until you invite me.”
“Mm.” I cross my arms under my chest. “Don’t hold your breath on that happening.”
He smiles, then tips his cup back, taking a long swig of his coffee. His eyes never leave mine.
To keep myself from staring back like a hungry little fiend, I grab a bakery box and open the display case. My hand closes around a pastry.
He leans over, head tilting down to watch me. “You look cute back there, ready for work. How long have you been doing this?”
“A few years,” I answer, not looking up. “It started out as something temporary. I needed a job after getting fired from my old one and Dylan needed an extra hand during wedding season. I honestly wasn’t expecting to like it as much as I did. But almost immediately everything just seemed to click. I love the artistic side of it. The design process. How everything comes together. I don’t know. It’s not like I’m curing cancer or anything, but cupcakes seem to make people happy. I think happiness is therapeutic.”
I straighten with the box and set it on the case. Lifting my head, I lock onto Mason’s gentle stare.
“What?” I ask.
After a beat, he softly replies. “Nothing.” He leans forward and looks down into the box. “What’s this?”