mine. “Come on,” he said. I followed him inside the house. He headed toward the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“A beer would be good,” I said.
“Coming up.” A few moments later he passed the beer to me, his fingers brushing over mine with the lightest touch. I’d have sworn on a stack of bibles that it’d been intentional. I cleared my throat and took a quick swig of my beer.
“So what do you want to do tonight?” I asked.
He bent down to grab something out of the fridge but popped his head up over the door and raised an eyebrow at me. “Loaded question.”
Heat rose to my cheeks at his implication.
He came away from the fridge holding a platter of food and set it down on the granite breakfast bar. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“I’m starved.”
“I picked up some stuff to barbeque: steak, baked potatoes, and corn on the cob.”
“Sounds great. Can I help with anything?”
“If you could bring the beers out onto the deck, I’ll grab the food and we can chill out there while the food cooks.”
I grabbed his beer off the counter and followed him out to the deck. The ocean was quiet and serene and did a lot to calm my nerves. The sun hadn’t set yet but it had begun its descent. We didn’t get sunsets over the water on this side of the country but that didn’t make them any less beautiful. The sky was filled with a golden glow and wisps of gossamer clouds were highlighted in various shades of orange and red.
I chose a chair at the table closest to the barbecue and eased into it while Mason lit the gas and cleaned off the burners. He placed the potatoes inside and came to join me at the table. He leaned back in his chair, looking entirely at ease with his long legs stretched out in front of him.
“Are you from Virginia Beach?” he asked.
“Not originally. I moved here to live with my mom and her husband after I couldn’t get a decent job out of college. I was born in Indiana. Where are you from?”
“I grew up in Mississippi.”
“Where’s your twang?” I asked.
“I’ve done my best to lose it over the years. It wasn’t easy.”
“That’s a shame. There’s something sexy about a man with a Southern accent.” My bold statement surprised even myself.
“Dagnabit darlin’, you sayin’ you don’t find me all kinds a sexy without this Southan drawl?”
I laughed. “So what do you do for a living? What brings you to Virginia Beach?”
He shifted in his seat and looked uncomfortable with my question.
“I’m a songwriter.”
“Wow. Anything I might know?”
“Doubtful.”
I wasn’t sure how true that was given the fact he could afford to rent this beach house for a month. The royalty checks must have been rolling in at a pretty steady pace.
“And you’re here because…”
“Just to relax. I have a busy few months coming up.”
“What’s going to keep you so busy?”
“A lot of travel. Nothing that exciting.”
I let the subject drop. I was getting the vibe he didn’t want to expand any further on the topic. “How are you enjoying yourself?” I asked.
“So far so good.” His gaze slid from my face down the length of my body. Now I was the one who was uncomfortable. I didn’t know what to say but he saved me the trouble when he got up to add corn and meat to the grill.
We chatted about this and that and nothing in particular for the next twenty minutes while he finished cooking dinner. When it was ready we sat across from each other at the table directly overlooking the ocean.
“This is really good,” I said after digging into my steak.
“Thanks.”
Mason could add barbecuing to his list of impressive qualities. The food was so good I finished everything on my plate. I’d had a brief moment of wondering whether or not I should pretend to be a dainty eater but decided against it. Who was I kidding? I liked to eat and if we spent any time at all together he’d figure it out anyway. Why bother pretending?
It dawned on me
Jarrett Hallcox, Amy Welch
Sex Retreat [Cowboy Sex 6]