“Why don’t you get the fuck out of my house?” Fury at him—and herself—pumped through her veins.
Though that anger was sorta tempered by the fact that she appreciated his attempt to take care of her—a nobody from nowhere who he didn’t know from Adam. Not one of her past boyfriends had ever looked after her when she was sick. One or two had managed to bring her soup on the first day of her illness before skittering off to do something more interesting. After that, she’d always been on her own. But boy, when they’d caught so much as a sniffle, they’d expected her to wait on them hand and foot. Hence the exes.
A low sound from outside caught her attention. It was barely there, maybe nothing more than a whisper on the wind, but she swore it sounded like laughter.
“Lucy,” Mason slapped the wooden spoon down on the counter, “you’re sick. You’ll feel ten times better after a hot shower. Right now, you have two options. You can be a good girl and take a shower on your own, or…” His eyes darkened, his green eyes looking almost amber for a moment. God, she really was sick. But even sick, she could appreciate the rumbling purr in his voice. “I can help you.”
He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her, sending a rush of heat to her cheeks. To cover her embarrassment, she barked out a contemptuous laugh.
“Oh, I’m totally gonna hop in the shower with a stranger in my house. This may be a small town, but assholes aren’t restricted to big cities. Dickheads can be found in the country too, you know.” She waved a hand in his direction. “Case in point.”
Mason opened his mouth—probably to argue though she was determined to win this confrontation—but then his nostrils flared and he turned toward the hallway. Lucy didn’t have a chance to ask him what he’d heard when a female voice echoed down the hall.
“Knock knock! Anyone home?”
The sound of little feet running quickly followed, and Charlie skidded around the corner into the kitchen. “Hi!”
“Hi,” Lucy grinned at the little boy, bemused by his sudden and unexpected appearance.
Charlie rushed up to her, glancing briefly at the dried blood on her sweats before launching into a rambling lecture on, well, everything.
“Morning! We came to see you! Does your leg hurt? I feel really, really bad. I didn’t mean to. I was just scared. And Ghost Kitty was going to get run over! I wanted to save her, even though I know I’m not supposed to like kitties. I was worried about her all night, but then on our way here, I saw her again. In your front yard! She’s so fat! And really cute. She’s grey and looks really soft. And fat! I want to pet her. I asked Mommy and Daddy if I could keep her, but they said I was too young. I won’t hurt her like I hurt you though, I promise. I’ll be really good. Is that bacon?”
“Charlie, leave her alone,” his mother chided.
Bonnie and Robert Tipton followed their son into the kitchen, stopping short when they spied Mason at the stove. Bonnie shot her husband a glance soaked with worry, but then she was all smiles and open arms.
“Mason!” She smiled wide and welcoming. “Bless my stars, I wasn’t expecting to find you here.”
Robert pumped Mason’s hand and leaned in, the move followed by the two exchanging low murmurs she couldn’t hear. Mostly because Charlie had started in about the cat again. All the commotion and activity brought on a wave of dizziness that sent her plopping into her seat. She remained in place and simply waited for Charlie to take a breath.
Lucy put her elbow on the table and propped her cheek against her palm. She sighed and tried to follow the action in her kitchen. Why she was surprised by this, she wasn’t sure. This was small town Georgia, after all, where everyone was always in everyone else’s business. Couple that with a healthy dose of guilt and the ever-present “bless your heart” Southern attitude, and it was no wonder strangers invaded her home. After so many years on her own, all the attention made her feel somehow… loved.
Lucy brushed the thought away with a shake of her head and focused on Charlie’s prattling. “…but she ran under your porch before I could get her. I hope she’s okay under there. Do you think cats are scared of the dark?”
“Charlie Tipton.” Mason’s stern tone reverberated around the room and everyone stopped talking, moving, breathing.
Charlie turned slowly, almost in slo-mo, dropped his gaze to his toes and shuffled over to stand in front of Mason. The Tiptons stood off to the side, clutching each other’s hands in a white-knuckled grip, practically trembling with nerves.
“What do you have to say for yourself, young man?” Mason’s voice was dropped low with a hint of growl.
A shiver of dismay wriggled up Lucy’s neck, standing the fine hairs there on end. Charlie gave a small shudder before answering. What the hell? She couldn’t make sense of the scene. It almost appeared as if they all were kowtowing to Mason. Good grief! He was just a park ranger, not a general!
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, eyes still focused on the floor. “I’m sorry for hurting Miss Lucy.”
The boy glanced over his shoulder at her, and she gave him a soft smile to let him know there were no hard feelings.
Mason interrupted their moment. “And?”
“And…” Charlie whispered. “And I promise never to bite anyone again.”
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
Charlie’s lower lip trembled, and his chest hitched as he bravely fought the tears. Anger bubbled inside Lucy. If she had been able to hear Charlie, Mason had. He was just being a jerk. She couldn’t believe his parents weren’t putting a stop to this nonsense. If they wouldn’t, she would.
“That’s enough.” She lurched from her seat and stumbled until she formed a human barrier between Mason and Charlie. She jammed her fists onto her hips and glared up at Mason. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, you big bully! Besides, how is this any of your business in the first place?”
The Tiptons gasped and Charlie whimpered, but she ignored them. She was determined to set Mason on fire with her glare. It didn’t work. Apparently, she still wasn’t a superhero. The only thing her snarling accomplished was to amuse the gorgeous man. No, she meant asshole. He wasn’t gorgeous. At all.
“And what are you grinning at?” she demanded.
He raised his hands in surrender and smiled even wider while taking a step back. “Not a thing.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes and then turned to Charlie. She leaned down—kneeling so wasn’t happening—and smiled at him. “Apology accepted, Charlie.” Then she glanced at his parents. “Thank you for coming to check on me, but I’m fine.”
“But your leg—” Robert started, but Mason cut him off.
“I’m taking Lucy to get the wound looked at just as soon as she gets cleaned up.”
She turned her glare up to eleven, but he still remained stubbornly incombustible. And grinning.
“Or rather,” Mason added, that grin somehow widening, “as soon as I help her get cleaned up.”
Ass. Hole.
Chapter Eight
The old Cherokee bounced down the rutted streets of Ashtown, each jarring movement drawing sharp breaths from Lucy. The Jeep’s lurching obviously bothered her leg, but he couldn’t do much about the condition of the road. And the situation was only going to get worse. The road to the pack house could be confused with the cratered surface of the moon. Yeah, she’d hate him by the time they arrived.