Except the doorknob sort of fell off in her hand. The fuck?
While she stared at the misshapen metal, Mason shoved the front door open and stepped inside. Lucy lifted her attention to Mason and then back to the useless doorknob before returning to Mason once more. Since she wasn’t about to get answers from a lifeless—useless—knob, she’d interrogate this jerk.
“What the hell happened to this?” She waved the doorknob at him. “And why bother knocking if you’re just going to break in anyway?” She snarled and hopped to her right, blocking his path.
Instead of answering, Mason jiggled the bag of groceries he carried and flashed her a shit-eating grin. “You could just give me a key and make it easy on both of us.”
Lucy snorted. “A key to a useless knob? Right.”
She remembered that small town residents could be interfering, overstepping busybodies but this was too much. She opened her mouth to tell him where he could shove his idiotic request when she caught sight of heaven in a plastic package within his bag. Her stomach grumbled, not-so-silently begging for the pieces of ambrosia he’d brought.
Okay, she still wouldn’t give him a key, but maybe she was acting a little too hastily. After all, the hottie brought bacon.
Bacon. Bacon. Bacon.
Rolling her eyes, she sighed and stepped aside to let him pass, but that wasn’t what he did. No, instead, Mason stepped into her space, crowding her against the wall and surrounding her with his presence. And thank God for that wall because her knees went weak as soon as a wave of his scent passed over her. It was woodsy and spicy and musky, all wrapped together with a deliciously muscular bow—powerful yet subtle. Was it his cologne? Or just his natural scent? Whatever it was, it had to be loaded with pheromones. From the moment the first tendrils teased her nose, she got all hot and tingly in all the right—no, wrong!—places.
Mason moved until no more than an inch separated their bodies, his heat scorching her with his nearness. He lifted his free hand and gently cupped her cheek. The touch set her skin on fire and the throbbing ache in her leg sped up to match her racing heartbeat. Soft pressure had her tilting her head back until she had no choice but to meet his gaze. Something she absolutely should not do if she wanted to keep her sanity. And keep her panties in place. But there was she was, her eyes locked on his, those soft green whirlpools sucking her in and refusing to release her.
“How are you feeling?” His tone was soft, concerned.
Terrible! Whether you know it or not, you got me all hot and bothered in my dreams last night so it’s your responsibility to fix it. We need a trip to Bangtown, STAT.
Lucy cleared her throat and fought to find her voice but only managed to whisper her response. “Fine.”
A muscle in Mason’s jaw twitched and then he nodded, releasing his hold—physical and mental. Free of his captive stare, she slumped against the wall at her back, digging her fingernails into the hard surface. He spun in place and then strode away from her, his heavy boots thudding against the wood floors. And all she could do was stare. Stare at that tight, firm, biteable ass.
No, bad Lucy. Bad.
Lucy wasn’t able to stop drooling until Mason disappeared into the kitchen, giving her back what little sanity she possessed. She didn’t like this guy. She didn’t even know him. Not really. Sure, during her conversation with Miss Violet she’d learned Mason Blackwood had helped build Ashtown into a vacation destination.
That didn’t mean he was trustworthy, though. Plenty of psychopaths fooled people into believing they were normal pillars of the community every day—politicians, religious leaders, Barney the Dinosaur…
No, wait. Barney just turned others into psychopaths as a form of self-preservation.
Lucy sighed and pushed away from the wall. As much as Mason tripped her trigger, she couldn’t let her guard down. Not even to honestly acknowledge her feelings about the man. Especially then.
Resolve freshly renewed, Lucy hobbled toward the kitchen, wincing every time she put weight on her injured leg. Before she even made it out of the entryway, Mason appeared out of nowhere and scooped her into his strong arms.
“What the hell!” she gasped and shoved against his chest in a pathetic effort to get away.
He ignored her complaints and wriggling, and strode toward the kitchen. She jostled against his chest, all too aware of the hard plane of muscle she was snuggled against. That warm, natural woodsiness enveloped her like a cocoon once more. All she ached to do was breathe deeply and savor that scent. Unfortunately, all she could manage was frantic panting.
Even as she fought him, she had to admit that the handful of seconds it took him to reach the kitchen table were some of the most blissful in her life. Not that she would ever admit being held by him was so delicious and comforting, even to herself. She even managed to convince herself that her reaction was due to the fever she’d been fighting since the previous night. Of course, that lie she told herself was proved false when he set her down in a chair and returned to his bag of groceries. A fierce disappointment gripped her heart the moment he released her, and it wouldn’t let go.
“So,” she said, mentally slapping herself back into reality, “is this the new routine? You break into my house, carry me around, and cook for me?”
Mason lifted a single brow as he pulled a dozen eggs from the bag. “Would you like it to be?”
“Only if I could have a couple more servants to feed me grapes and fan me with palm fronds.” Lucy laughed, just a little too brightly to be natural. The guy made her nervous. Sue her.
He turned and leaned one elbow on the counter as he gave her a sultry look, as if her every fantasy could be sated and all she had to do was ask.
Uh oh.
“You know I’m kidding, right?” She needed to get that out there. She didn’t want Mason fulfilling any fantasies—real or made up. “I definitely don’t want to you busting into my home every day.”
She didn’t care for the sly expression in his eyes, but he finally turned away with a barely audible, “Mmm hmmm.”
Pulling a frying pan off the rack hanging over the kitchen island, he opened the package of bacon and began laying them in the pan. “How many pieces do you want?”
“None.”
He froze and slowly turned to look at her in a mixture of utter bewilderment and horror. “You don’t like bacon?”
Her tummy rumbled again, making her feelings about bacon clear. No sense denying it. “Okay, I love bacon, but I can make it for myself, thank you very much. You don’t need to—”
“Thank God,” he blew out a harsh breath and dumped the entire pound into the pan. “For a minute there…”
“Listen, I really appreciate you bringing me food and all, but I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Or she was at least perfectly capable of calling an Uber to ferry her around Ashtown. Have credit card, will travel.
“Really.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, really. I’ve been doing it since I was a teenager.”
Mason’s lips pressed into a thin line, forming a white slash beneath his nose. “Lucy, you’re running a fever and you can hardly use your leg. You probably have an infection that needs to be treated. After I feed you, I’m going to take you to get checked out.”
Wow, the balls on this guy!
“The hell you are!” She knew she needed to see a doctor, but she’d be damned if she was going to let him take all the credit for being a hero. Pushing down hard on the table, she managed to gain her feet… and she didn’t even tumble over. Ha! Take that! “Mason—”
“How do you take your coffee?” He pulled jar of cold-pressed coffee concentrate from the bag.
Coffee sounded like heaven, but she balked just to be stubborn. “My mother taught me to never take things from strangers.”
“Light and sweet it is. Breakfast will be a bit, so why don’t you go get ready.”