“Stop.” The word was breathless, husky, and reluctant.
“I want you.” The words were hoarse and sounded like they’d been tortured from him.
“You don’t. You can’t,” she protested.
“Why the fuck not?” She flinched, but his gaze remained fixed and unrepentant.
“This isn’t how this was supposed to go,” she whispered. “You’re not supposed to want me; I’m not supposed to like you. It was all supposed to remain neat and clinical.”
“Where do you come up with these bullshit rules?”
“They’re not my rules. They’re the dictates of modern society. You’re supposed to be with someone like Shar,” she burst out desperately, and he reared back in horror.
“You would wish a bitch like that on me?”
“Daff or Lia, then; you’re supposed to be with someone like them.”
“Will you stop trying to foist me off on to your friends and family? Shar’s a malevolent bitch. Your sisters are both completely insane, and they bore me to tears.”
Mason wasn’t sure why he was trying so hard to convince her that he wanted her. He considered it for a moment—the dull throbbing in his groin punctuating his every thought—and concluded that he was trying so hard because he was so hard. There was no logic to desire; it simply happened, sometimes between the unlikeliest of people. And it was occurring in spades between Mason and this contrary armful of femininity.
It would be better if she continued to believe that he didn’t want her. But, consequences be damned, he was tired of fighting his powerful attraction to her. And he now found himself wishing it weren’t so damned difficult to convince her of his sincerity, even while he knew that it was his reward for approaching her under false pretenses that first night. He was paying for that dumb move in spades. She didn’t give her trust easily, and he wasn’t sure how to earn it back.
“Good-bye, Mason,” she whispered, finality in her voice, and bowing his head, he admitted defeat.
For now.
CHAPTER NINE
“I can’t believe you’re actually going through with this,” Spencer said, shaking his head. Mason looked up from his duffel bag and glared at his nonplussed brother. The other man was dog sitting for the weekend and was there to pick Cooper up.
“Did you expect me to back out at the last second?” He shoved his shaving kit into the bag and followed it up with his brush—not really needed after he’d shorn his hair again last night—and aftershave. The expensive stuff.
“Well, yeah.”
“Why would I leave her in the lurch like that?” Mason glared at him.
“She forced you to do this. It was a sad and desperate attempt to get a guy like you to go out with her, and I doubt she’d be surprised if you bailed on her.”
“I’m going to say this once only, Spence, slowly so that it’ll penetrate even your thick skull.”
“Hey.”
“I like her, and after this farce of a weekend is over, I’m going to ask her out. For real. Got that?”
“You’re going to ask her out?”
“And she’s going to say no,” Mason predicted bitterly.
“Sometimes I don’t get you at all,” Spencer complained.
“Yeah? Join the fucking club.”
“Miss me?” The flippant question was the first thing Mason asked when Daisy climbed into his car just before midday. She smiled at him, keeping her expression painfully polite in an attempt to prevent him from seeing just how very much she had missed him. She hadn’t seen him since that afternoon at her parents’ place. He’d called her at work, sent her flowers, and kept up the pretense of their fake relationship, even while Daisy had barely put any effort into it herself. She scrupulously avoided her family as much as possible to evade any questions about the nature of her relationship with Mason.
The only person she could speak to with any honesty was Daff, and that wasn’t ever pleasant or reassuring because of her sister’s tendency to overdramatize and make everything about her.
“It’s not my place to miss you,” she said rigidly, and he removed his sunglasses specifically so that he could roll his eyes at her.
“Get that stick out of your ass, Dr. Daisy. It’s going to be a long journey, and I’d prefer it were a pleasant one.”
He had a fair point, and she tried her best to look chastened.
“Maybe I missed you a little,” she conceded, and he grinned broadly.
“I missed you too.” He pushed his sunglasses back up his nose, and Daisy drank him in furtively. He had cut his hair again, the waves that she had enjoyed just a week ago ruthlessly shorn away to leave only short spikes in its wake. He was wearing an open-necked white dress shirt, with those faded jeans she liked so much. She really had missed him. Everything about him: his irreverent sense of humor, his laughter, and his insightful observations. The way he tilted his head slightly when he was listening to her, as if her every word was interesting. He glanced around and raised a quizzical brow.
“No Peaches?” She shook her head.
“She’s staying with Lucinda this weekend. What about Cooper?”
“He’s with Spencer.” He watched as she clicked the seat belt into place.
“What does Spencer think about our so-called blossoming romance?” It was something she had been meaning to ask for a while. He shot her a chagrined look.
“He guessed the truth almost immediately.”
“Jeez, if Spencer could guess, then I don’t know how much chance we have of convincing everybody else,” she said with a wince.
“What are you trying to say about my brother?” Mason’s tone was inadvertently defensive, and her eyes widened in alarm.
“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, that sounded worse than I intended; I just mean that he doesn’t strike me as very—”