“That’s pretty far; if we just waited forty minutes, we could go to MJ’s.”
“We were at MJ’s last night.” He looked a little annoyed by her suggestion, but Daisy definitely did not want to be confined in a car with him for that long. Not with the crazy awareness and tension simmering between them. Okay, so the tension and awareness were probably totally one-sided, but why put herself through unnecessary stress?
“I thought the point was to be seen around town together.”
“People will see us coming and going together, and they’ll wonder. That is the point. We want them to speculate. If we’re always out at MJ’s putting on a performance, it’ll start to look unnatural.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she conceded, and he reached over to tweak a curl, but his hand lingered and he wrapped one of the strands around his finger, his knuckles brushing across her cheekbone in the process. She stilled at his touch, telling herself that it wasn’t a big deal. Still, the gesture felt alarmingly intimate, and he must have thought so too because he quickly withdrew his hand and resumed tapping the back of the sofa.
“Trust me, Daisy.”
“I’m trying.”
They were quiet for a long moment, the only sounds coming from the howling wind and rain outside and Peaches’s light snoring from one of the armchairs. Daisy finished her coffee as quickly as she could and reached out to take his empty mug before getting up to carry them to the kitchen. In the process she “accidentally” pushed her bra off the back off the couch. She ignored Mason’s knowing chuckle and rounded the couch to pick up the bra before retreating to the kitchen with mugs and underwear safely in hand.
“We should hit the road soon,” he said, stretching lazily as he spoke, and she nodded, shoving her bra into the junk drawer to retrieve later, before rinsing the mugs. “I hope you’re not scared of bikes,” he said, as he leapt agilely to his feet. Daisy paused in the act of drying her hands on a tea towel and stared at him in dismay.
“What?”
“Motorbikes. I hope you’re not . . .” His voice tapered off, and a snort escaped. His shoulders started shaking before he started to guffaw, huge “heeyucks” that had him folding his arms over his middle and doubling over. If he started slapping his thighs, Daisy would have to find a way to comprehensively kick his ass. “You . . . you should see your face.”
“Glad I amuse you,” she said stiffly. Not like she hadn’t been the butt of someone’s stupid joke before. He sobered almost immediately and took a couple of steps toward her.
“Hey, come on. I wasn’t . . .”
“I take it you weren’t dumb enough to ride a motorcycle in this weather?” she asked, and he shook his head.
“Daisy.” He lifted a hand as if to touch her, but she stepped out of reach and turned away.
“I just have to see to Peaches’s food. Feel free to wait in the car.”
“Daisy, come on . . .”
Shit. He hadn’t meant to offend her; he just liked her prickly and prim reactions sometimes. But this wasn’t prickly or prim; this was something else. He’d hurt her . . . again. And he wasn’t entirely sure how. He watched her gracefully move around the tiny confines of her kitchen and felt awkward as hell. Did he really need this kind of grief in his life? Why the hell was he putting up with her shit anyway? He couldn’t figure it out. He couldn’t figure her out.
“Look, I was joking, okay? I didn’t mean to offend you or upset you.” She stopped moving, her back still to him, and sighed before throwing back her head and staring up at the ceiling. For some kind of divine intervention perhaps? Who knew with her?
She turned to face him, her pretty eyes strained.
“I may have overreacted a bit, it’s just . . .” She paused, and he gritted his teeth in exasperation.
Just what? Jesus, and she called him frustrating.
“I’ve been the butt of someone’s joke too many times to count.”
“Oh.” Oh. Fuck.
“I’m stupidly oversensitive sometimes. I just thought you were . . .” Different. She didn’t have to say it. The unspoken word hovered between them, and Mason swore beneath his breath.
“I’m an asshole,” he muttered, trying—and failing—to keep the defensive tone out of his voice. “I told you that last night. But in this case the assholery was unintentional. Daisy, I didn’t mean to make you the butt of my lame joke. I enjoy your reaction to my teasing; you’re cute when you get all grumpy and righteously indignant.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “So the fishing thing wasn’t serious?”
“Nope. That was totally serious. We’re going fishing as soon as the weather clears.”
“But why?”
“Because I think you’d like it. And when we go camping, you and Peaches will love roughing it in the wilderness.” Her eyes widened, but something in his expression must have clued her in because her face cleared almost immediately.
“You’re teasing me again. Right?”
“Only partly. No way in hell will we be taking Peaches camping with us.” Another small frown from her, but by this time he was openly grinning, and a shy, sweet smile blossomed at the corners of her mouth.
“Stop that,” she grumbled good-naturedly.
“Now you’re getting it, babe.”
They left a few minutes later, and despite knowing that he’d only been pulling her leg earlier, Daisy was relieved to note that he had indeed arrived by car. The BMW. He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders as he hustled her to the car, keeping her shielded from the wind as he opened the door for her.