Mason looks over at Isaac, and whatever my brother reads in Mason’s expression softens his face and he nods. “I’ll load up your stuff.” He walks away, leaving me in the capable arms of my boyfriend.
“Do you want to stay for a few more days?” His hands sift through my hair, and the caress soothes my aching heart.
“No, I’m ready to go back to Vegas.”
“Want to talk about what’s got you so upset?”
I shake my head and peek up at him. The truth is I’m not upset as much as I’m feeling the weight of defeat. His blue eyes, heavy with concern and worry, fix on mine.
“I’m okay, just”—I pick at the neck of his tee—“ready to make some changes when we get back.”
Like giving up looking for my sister’s killer and starting fresh, fighting for a life of my own. With him. If he’ll have me.
His eyebrows pop. “Changes? Mind sharing?”
“I want to quit dancing. I don’t know . . .” I shrug. “Maybe take some classes, pick up more hours at the Youth Center. I think Sylvia—”
The wind rushes from my lungs as Mason lifts me into his arms and spins me around. “Yes!”
I wrap my arms tighter around his shoulders, giggling into his neck as he yelps in excitement before dropping me back to my feet. “Are you serious?”
“Safe to say you approve?”
“Approve? Fuc—er—heck yeah! Are you kidding?” His gaze sweeps along my face, my eyes, cheeks, settling on my lips. “I want to kiss you so badly right now,” he whispers. “Your dad would probably shoot me; all these church people would, for sure, think we were going to hell.”
I tilt to the side and see the yard full of people, and after Mason’s outburst, most of them have their eyes on us. “Mase? I don’t really care what they think.” Pushing up on my toes, I drag my lips along his, and he flinches slightly before his eyelids close and he sinks into a sweet and tender kiss.
It’s open-lipped, but no tongue and filled with more meaning than any sexual encounter we’ve had before. It’s a promise, a vow that whatever these changes bring he’ll be there.
He rests his forehead against mine, his eyes still closed. “Let me take you home, Surfer Girl.”
The tenderness in his voice makes my chest feel like it could explode. I drag in a shaky breath. “Yes, please.”
Twenty-five
Mason
“Good morning, gentlemen!” I hold my arms out wide, gloved hands, ready to train.
Blake jerks to a stop and glares at me. “Baywatch? How long have you been here?”
He and Jonah, who just entered the training center, stroll over to the octagon where I’ve been waiting since seven a.m. Waiting and training.
“Couple of hours.” I roll my head around, keeping my muscles loose. “Getting an early start.” I squint at Blake. “Hey, did you just wake up?”
“Fuck off.” He turns to head toward the locker room. “I’ll be right back to kick your morning-glory pansy ass.”
I cup my mouth. “Take your time!”
“Eat a dick!” He gives me the finger over his shoulder.
“Man, that guy is grumpy in the morning.” I shake my head, unable to wipe the shit-eating grin off my face.
Coming off an epic few days with Trix, I’m a damn circus clown. Our plane got in just in time for us to grab a quick dinner and head to my place. We showered together and stayed naked as long as we could, that is, until she had to head home and start her plan for making changes. I was so pumped up with excitement over where our relationship is heading I came straight to work to train.
She’s not going to strip anymore. Even thinking the words makes me fuckin’ giddy.
“Alright, Baywatch.” Jonah crosses his arms over his chest, his eyebrows dropped low as he assesses my practically dancing ass. “What gives?”
“Can’t a guy just start the week out with a smile?”
“Sure he can, but there’s always a reason and nine and a half times out of ten that reason is a woman.”
I try to hide what I’m sure looks like a ridiculously goofy smile.
“Fuck.” He shakes his head. “Trix did a number on your ass, huh?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“You’re wearing it like skin, brother.”
“She’s pretty amazing.”
“Who?” Blake jogs up, wearing his training gear and slipping on his gloves. “The stripper?”
“Ex-stripper.” And that fucking grin is back. “She’s quitting.”
Blake’s eyebrows jump. “No shit? Good for you, man. Must have some kind of King Kong dick to get her to give up all that cash for you. Those girls make bank.”
My smile falls a little. “She’ll get another job. It’s no big deal.” We move to the heavy bags on the far end of the training center. “But yeah, I do have a King Kong dick, so that helps.”
Blake cringes. “Little slow on the uptake there, Baywatch.” He leans against the wall, studying me. “I’m serious though. She gives up that kind of green; you better be worth it.”
Am I worth it? Maybe not, but we’re worth it.
I’ll make damn sure we’re worth it.
He pulls an arm across his chest, stretching. “Can she afford her house, all her expenses, if she quits?”