Written in the Stars Page 14

  Or fall in love?

  No, she didn’t think that anything or anyone could ever keep her in one spot without having her going completely stir-­crazy. She treasured her freedom. Didn’t she? Okay, if she was honest with herself, perhaps not completely. Grace sighed, thinking that the charm of this small town must be getting to her. Sophia had as much as said the same thing. And there could be compromise. Mattie and Garret were a shining example of how to blend two very different lifestyles together.

  “Okay, then, this is getting you a big fat nowhere.” Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t in Grace’s nature either, so she pushed up to her feet and headed to the bathroom to wash away the tracks of her tears. “Just look at you,” she said after viewing the black mascara running down her face. “You’re one hot mess, Grace Gordon.” After scrubbing her face and patting her cheeks dry, she picked up her tablet and decided she’d listen to some music and maybe do a bit more research. No matter how much Mason didn’t like it, she was determined to make the brewery a success in the best way she knew how. It wasn’t just about protecting her investment, but also about helping Mason see his dream come to fruition. But she didn’t want to let him know that her investment had anything to do with wanting to help him personally. Part of the emotional tug was that he was a Mayfield. Grace had gotten to know warmhearted, loving Mattie in London. Mattie’s stories of the antics of her brothers had entertained Grace but also gave her a glimpse into the close-­knit Mayfield family.

  But it was Mason who drew her in like some magnetic force that she couldn’t control.

  When he walked into the room, Mason commanded her full attention, something that was difficult to do. A brush of his fingertips, a lingering look, the sound of his voice, stroked her senses in a way that she’d never experienced. And they had kissed only...once. What would it feel like to be naked in his arms with his mouth exploring her body, inch by inch?

  “Oh dear Lord.” Grace grabbed a bottle of water and headed outside onto her back deck. A stiff breeze and gray clouds rolling across the horizon indicated a storm warning, but she didn’t care if it poured down rain. The wind caressed her face and lifted her hair, bringing the earthy scent of the river and woods her way. She inhaled deeply, thinking she would miss having nature wrapped all around her once she headed back to the city.

  Grace turned Pandora on to the Billy Joel channel, her go-­to guy when she was in a mood. Like the storm brewing, her mood was an odd mixture of anger, disappointment, and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Oh yeah...desire. After a long sigh, she gave her bottle of water a look and decided she needed a glass of wine. Crossing her fingers that she had a bottle of her favorite red, she went back inside and located a nice Cupcake merlot. After pouring a glass, she looked at the bottle and decided it might be the kind of night to consume the entire thing, and so she picked it up and took it with her.

  The first glass of wine made her feel mellow. She sat back in the lounge chair and looked out over the water, letting her mind wander here and there. After consuming her second glass, she started singing along with Billy to “Only the Good Die Young.” She sipped and sang, carefully avoiding a look in the direction of Mason’s houseboat. Who cared if he was home or not? Who cared if he hated her marketing plan? Who cared if she was falling in love with him?

  “What?” Grace sputtered.

  She sat up straight, nearly sloshing red wine over the rim of the glass. “Now, just hold on.” She inhaled a deep breath and carefully placed her glass on the small table beside her lounge chair. Okay...the important word here was falling. She was falling for him. Not in love...yet. She would just have to stop the in love part from happening. She could do that, right? “No.” She shook her head, knowing that falling in love didn’t work like that...or at least she didn’t think so. All she knew was that she’d never felt like this before, and she needed to put on the brakes.

  The trick was going to be doing her job in an efficient, impersonal manner and leaving how she felt about him out of it. “This requires a list.” Grace picked up a pen and stared at the blank sheet of paper. “Okay...okay, I’ve got one.” She wrote number one and circled it. “Do not think about kissing him. Stop ogling his very fine bum. Do not be sucked in by his killer smile or his sweet Southern drawl.” She tapped the pen against her teeth. “Aha.” She nodded slowly. Stay at least five feet from him so you can’t get a whiff of his aftershave. Do not think that his broody, sulky demeanor is somehow sexy. Above all else, stop falling in love with him! Grace tossed her pen down and dusted her hands together. Ha, piece of cake. She took a big gulp of wine in celebration.

  In fact, Grace was so pleased with herself that she was starting to get hungry. Thinking that some fruit, cheese, and crackers would go nicely with her wine, she stood up and walked through the double doors, nearly bumping into...“Mason!” Grace shrieked. “You scared the daylights out of me!” She backed up in order to adhere to her five-­feet-­away-­from-­him rule. She’d already caught a whiff of his aftershave, and she already had kissing him on her mind. “Damn.”

  “Sorry. I knocked, but I was drowned out by your duet with Billy Joel. I know I shouldn’t have come in, but the door was open, so—”

  “Why are you here?” Grace bluntly interrupted, and then turned Billy Joel off.

  Mason shrugged. “I couldn’t resist your singing. Your voice carried across the lake.”

  Grace narrowed her eyes at him, digging deep for the not-­thinking-­about-­kissing-­him rule, number one. Of course he had the nerve to look super hot in a plain black T-­shirt and basic Wranglers. “Since when do you crack jokes?”

  “I was serious.” Mason took a step forward and Grace took a giant step back, nearly out the door.

  “My singing is pretty horrible.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “You didn’t have to agree with me.” She tilted her head to the side. “So did you come here to laugh at me?”

  “No.”

  “Give me singing lessons?”

  “No, although you could use some.”

  “Ha, very funny.” She narrowed her eyes. “What, then?”

  Mason shook his head. “Okay, I confess. I can resist your singing.” When he smiled, Grace closed her eyes and fisted her hands at her sides, mentally going through her list of rules. She was on number three when he said, “What I can’t really resist is you, Gracie.”

  “No!” Her determination to stick to her list was only so strong. Opening her eyes wide, Grace turned and fled out the door, which of course didn’t lead to an escape because she was surrounded by water. Unless she opted for a cannonball into the river, she had no place to go. When a gust of wind picked up her list of rules from beneath the pen, she lunged for it. “No!” The list fluttered away like a bird in flight before taking a nosedive into the water once the wind died down. “Oh, bollocks!”

  Mason hurried over to stand beside her. “Was that sheet of paper something important?”

  “Extremely.”

  “Do you want me to go in after it?”

  Grace gave him glance. “Into the water? Are you quite mad?”

  “Angry?”

  “No, mad as in crazy.”

  “I ran out into a raging storm, remember? I don’t mind jumping into the river, but the current is taking your extremely important paper away fast.” Mason gripped the railing, clearly willing to take the plunge. “Speak now.”

  “No! Don’t!” The knowledge that he would jump into the river on her behalf made her want to break all of her rules at once, beginning with kissing him. “Perhaps it wasn’t nearly as important as I thought.” She gazed at Mason while her brain warred with good sense and potent desire. Good sense was losing by a long shot. “Mason,” she began, but he shook his head.

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Say anything.”

 
Grace gave him a slight smile. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t usually work for me.” She longed to take a step closer and put her hands on his solid chest. She wanted to bury her nose in the soft cotton of his shirt...and most of all she wanted to be in his arms kissing him.

  “You drive me insane, you know.”

  “Wait—­do you mean that in a good or bad way? Because it can go in either direction,” she tried to joke, but her voice came out soft and husky.

  “Both.”

  Grace tried to look away, but those blue eyes of his held her pinned to the spot. Her heart thudded and good sense left the building for good.

  “And you’re totally ruining my careful plan.”

  “Hey, the Broomstick Brewery idea will work,” she said, trying to steer this visit toward business and get back to her rules. “I’m quite sure of it.”

  “Maybe.”

  She arched an eyebrow.

  He sighed. “Okay, probably, but I’m not thinking about or going to talk about the brewery right now.”

  “So what plan are you referring to, if not a business plan?”

  “My grand plan was to give you the cold shoulder so you’d get pissed off at me and stay away.”

  “What kind of bizarre plan is that?”

  “Well.” He shoved his fingers through his hair and gave a short chuckle. “The plan was designed to protect me from getting hurt. See, if you stay away, I can’t kiss you.” He reached over and ran a gentle fingertip down her cheek, which made her want to tilt her head into his palm—­but she wanted to look into his eyes and grasp just what he was trying to tell her. “And...,” he began, but hesitated, as if not sure if he should divulge the rest of his plan.

  “Carry on. I must know the rest.”

  “My plan would keep me from falling for someone who has no intention of staying.”

  Grace’s heart thudded and she thought of her own set of silly rules floating down to feed the catfish. So they’d both been trying to stay from each other. Grace pointed to the river. “That paper had a list of rules concerning pretty much the same thing. I think we’re on the same sad page.”

  “Really?”

  “I suppose so, yes.”

  “Interesting, but Danny had a better idea.” The sideways look he gave her made her feel warm all the way to her toes.

  “Are you going to share Danny’s little tidbit with me?”

  Mason looked at her for a heartbeat and then nodded. “Danny told me to give you a reason to stay, Gracie.”

  “Oh.” She glanced away so he couldn’t see how close to the mark he’d just hit. “Is that so?”

  “Maybe that’s all you ever needed.”

  Mason’s statement startled her. Could he be right?

  “You make a strong point.” Unable to stop herself, Grace put her hands on his chest. She felt his warm skin through the shirt. He felt solid, strong, and real in a way that no man had ever felt to her before. He wasn’t playing games but being honest. God, he was such a good guy, and she didn’t want to hurt him. “But, Mason, I can’t give you any promises. I know my nature, and—”

  “Hey.” Mason put a fingertip to her lips. “I’m not asking for any promises. Just a chance. Forget about the brewery right now. Why don’t we give this thing between us a fighting shot? In case you haven’t noticed, a lot of so-­called visitors end up moving to Cricket Creek, Kentucky.”

  She smoothed her hands over his chest. “So your brother changed your mind?”

  “He gave me a different point of view. But no, you changed my mind. After you left, I wondered how I could be crazy enough not to kiss you. What in the Sam Hill was I thinkin’?” He looked at her mouth as if it were the most interesting thing on the planet, and then gazed into her eyes. “Seriously.”

  “I don’t know who Sam Hill is, but he’s a smart man.”

  Mason laughed and then dipped his head and kissed her.

  Grace melted into the kiss, and when he pulled her closer, the whole five-­foot rule blew all to pieces and fell like warm confetti sprinkling over her body. Make that warm, wet confetti. Oh wait, it was raining! Thunder boomed and the sky cracked open.

  Laughing, Mason grabbed her hand and pulled her into the cabin. “What is it with us and thunderstorms?”

  Grace joined in his laughter as they all but tumbled inside the cabin. She danced around when the cool air-­conditioning hit her. “I don’t know, but I sure want to get out of these wet clothes. How about you?” She started backing up toward her bedroom while crooking her finger at him.

  “Gracie!” Mason shouted just as she tripped over her forgotten running shoes.

  With a yelp she went down hard on her bum.

  “Oh my God! Are you all right?”

  “Well, I guess that’s what I get for trying to be sexy and lure you into my bedroom.” She shoved her hair out of her eyes and winced.

  When Mason extended his hands, Grace allowed him to haul her to her feet. “Just to give you a heads-­up, you don’t have to lure me anywhere. You’ve already caught me, hook, line, and sinker. How about that for using fishing terms?”

  “So all I have to do is reel you in?”

  “Pretty easy, huh?” he asked, but then without warning he swooped her up into his arms.

  “Mason!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Um, sweeping you off your feet. Is it working?”

  “You betcha,” she said with a laugh. Grace had never had a man carry her before. She was always too tall, but Mason carried her easily, without staggering, making her feel dainty and oh so feminine. Grace didn’t think she would like to be treated like a princess. She was supposed to be independent. But damn if she didn’t like it. A lot. Of course, she’d never dated a country boy before.

  Hold on...were they dating?

  Thoughts swirled around in her head fast and furious, like the wind and the rain coming down. When they reached the foot of her bed, he let her slide slowly against his body until her feet touched the floor. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he kissed her softly, lingering, and then pulled back and looked at her. “Gracie, I want this to be the start of something, or I wouldn’t be in your bedroom. I don’t take this lightly, just so you know.”

  Grace put her hands on his cheeks and nodded. “I already had that figured out,” she said. “And neither do I,” she added, and it was true. She’d never understood the appeal of casual sex, but she hadn’t stopped thinking about what it would be like to be naked in Mason’s arms.

  And she was about to find out.

  As much as Grace wanted to get out of her wet clothes, she couldn’t keep her eyes off Mason as he tugged his ­T-­shirt up over his head. The ripple of muscle made her want to moan, and so she did, getting a grin from him. His body was even more impressive than she’d imagined. Her gaze lingered, taking in his wide shoulders, defined pecs, and a lovely dusting of dark chest hair tapering to an enticing line south. She wanted to take that path with her tongue.

  Mason held the wet shirt in his hand. “Where do you want this?”

  “Anywhere but on your body. Drop it and carry on with the rest of it.”

  “You want to watch me undress?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Are you that easily entertained?” He reached for his zipper, and then looked at her.

  “No, I get easily bored, but I could watch you do this all day long,” she said, loving the rich sound of his laughter.

  “Then I’m flattered.”

  “You should be.”

  He laughed again, and then went for his zipper, going slowly just to torment her. But the lines of stress she’d seen on his face softened, and it hit her that he must be under so much pressure these days. Grace had learned from her mother that laughter was the best medicine, especially during the worst
of times. This was a man who put his own dream on hold to save his family’s business, and he deserved to be happy. She wanted to kiss away his worry, make sweet love to him, and then hold him close.

  When he tugged off his boots and then shimmied out of his jeans, Grace’s breath caught. He was, in a word, magnificent. No wonder he carried her with ease. She shivered with anticipation.

  “Baby, are you cold?”

  “I should be, but looking at you makes me warm all over. But say that again.”

  “Say what?” he asked while he started tugging at her tank top.

  “‘Baby.’ I like it when you call me that,” Grace admitted, and then felt a bit of a blush heat her cheeks. In her quest for independence, she’d shied away from endearments. Allowing herself to become attached meant having to settle down, and so when it got to the calling-­her-­“baby” stage, she was always ready to run.

  But not this time.

  Mason paused to look at her standing there in nothing but her cream-­colored satin bra and bikini panties. “You’re beautiful,” he said in a simple, straightforward manner. While Grace knew on an intellectual level that she possessed physical beauty, she hadn’t ever really felt that way. But she felt that way now.

  Mason slipped the straps over her shoulders, nearly but not quite exposing her breasts. Cupping her, he rubbed his thumbs oh so lightly over her cleavage, causing a hot shiver to slide down her spine. Brushing her damp hair to the side, he kissed her neck, teasing with the tip of his tongue, and began a sensual trail of light nibbles. With a flick of his hand, he unhooked her bra, and her breasts happily tumbled free, eager for his touch. When he sucked a beaded nipple into his mouth, Grace groaned. “God, here I thought that whole weak-­in-­the-­knees thing was a bunch of rubbish,” she said in a breathless voice, and then sank backward onto the bed.