Page 10 of Revived My Heart

Don’t get me wrong, I have no doubt that if he ever stopped by, he’d have a thing or two to say, but there was no reason to worry, because nothing was going on between his mom and me.

“Really, Patty, it’s nothing. I was raised to help out where I could, especially to single women. Even though,” I told her, raising my hand to stop her, “you’re perfectly capable of taking care of things yourself. You have to admit; it was a little easier with me around than doing it on your own.”

I took a swig of my beer, giving her a pointed look, which she only nodded at.

“Well, then, Mason, let me toast to you for being my knight in jeans and boots.” With that, she took the beer, lifted it to me, then I watched as she downed it and I already could see how this night was going to go.

~ Patty ~

I probably should have stopped about two beers ago, but I was happy and excited. Everything was coming together for the diner and Mason and I, right now, were having a blast. We were joking, talking, flirting, and even dancing, all in the wonderful little sitting area of his cabin.

It was perfect, when it probably shouldn’t be.

It also felt right, when I knew it couldn’t be.

And it wasn’t even that Mason was giving me mixed signals, because he wasn’t. Everything that was going on in my end was simply my doing. But try as I might, I couldn’t shake it off.

Hell, maybe I was dumb enough that I didn’t want to shake it off.

But when he was like this, fun and carefree, it was hard to back away. And when I was in his arms, swaying to the music that I wasn’t sure when he put on, it sucked even worse. But again, this is all my fault, and that I knew.

“You’re a really great dancer,” he slurred a little, making me laugh.

“I like to think I am.”

“You also feel right in my arms,” he confessed, his lips brushing the top of my head. “Would you believe I haven’t danced like this with anyone since my wife died? We would do this all the time.”

“Yeah?”

I wasn’t sure what to say because information about his wife, his past, or mine, was scarce. We didn’t bring it up much, and it seemed like we were both content to leave it there.

“Yup. But I miss it. I just know I really like you here.”

“I like being here, Mason.”

How drunk were we that we were talking about this?

“Can I confess something else?”

“Sure, lay it on me, big man,” I told him, trying to focus on him and not the twin beside him.

“I really wanted to kiss you the other night, Patty.”

I stopped swaying to stare at him, blown away by that comment. Because the look in his eyes that night did not seem like a man who wanted to do that.

“I was scared.”

“Of what?” I asked.

“Of what you make me feel. It’s something I haven’t felt in a long time. Not since she passed. And I didn’t think I could feel it again.”

“Why are you telling me this now, Mason?”

“Because I really fucking want to kiss you right now. And I don’t want to worry about it.”

“Mason,” I started, cupping his cheeks and making him look at me, “no one is going to worry about it, least of all me. If you want to kiss me, then press your damn lips against mine and put me out of my misery already.”

“Misery?”