Written in the Stars Page 18

  “Oh yeah. Do the panties match?”

  “You’re assuming I’m wearing panties.”

  “You’re killing me.”

  “You did mention that I’d be the death of you.”

  “Yeah, with slow torture.”

  Grace pointed to the zipper on her jeans. “Go ahead and find out.”

  Mason went to his knees and a moment later he tugged her skinny jeans down to her ankles. “Oh God, a thong.”

  “I’m not really a fan, but I’m wearing it for you.”

  “Thank you very much.”

  “I have several colors and styles.”

  “I will be trying to guess every time I see you.”

  When he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the tiny triangle of black silk, Grace gasped and held on to his head for support. The wall felt cool against her back and this seemed so naughty in the middle of the afternoon. He toyed with the lace sides with his thumbs, sending a parade of shivers dancing down her spine. “Oh!” His warm mouth felt so sensual through the thin silk, but she wanted him against her bare skin. ­“Mason...”

  “Put one of those endless legs over my shoulder.” Knowing just what she wanted, he pulled the thong to the side and slid his tongue back and forth, bringing her closer and closer until waves of pleasure rippled through her. Dazed, she clung to him. He seemed to know her hot spots and found some she didn’t know she had. Grace found herself being open and free with him in a way she’d never been before. She knew that it was because she was falling in love with him, and it scared her a little bit. But before she could dwell on her thoughts, he stood up and tugged his shirt over his head. After shucking his boots, he made quick work of shedding his jeans until he stood before her in black boxer briefs.

  “Baby, take them off me.”

  “Gladly.” Grace had the boxers down his legs with one swift tug. When his erection sprang forward, she put her hand around him, loving the steely hardness beneath the warm, smooth skin. “I want you,” she said, and looked into his eyes while she stroked him.

  “You’ve got me,” Mason said. She could tell that his statement went beyond sex, but she wasn’t ready to tell him how she felt. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Mason, and she suddenly felt as if she was in too deep already. “Gracie, don’t look at me like that,” he said, but when she opened her mouth to try to...what, explain? What could she say that he didn’t already know? “Just kiss me.”

  “Mason,” she began, but he covered her mouth with his, and she gave in to the passion. When she was in his arms, all of her fear melted away, and she told herself that this would all work out some way, somehow. When she wasn’t with Mason, she was thinking about him, a sure sign that this was love and they could make this work. Couldn’t they?

  Mason stepped back and ran a gentle fingertip down her cheek and across her bottom lip. She smiled, thinking how it was so amazing that such a big, strong man had this tender, gentle side. “Stop thinking, Gracie. Just live in the moment and let yourself go.” When she nodded, he slipped on a condom and then pulled her back into his arms. He kissed her worries right out of her brain, until all she could think about was making love to him. “Wrap one leg around my waist,” he said in her ear.

  “Bossy pants,” she said, but immediately complied. Her breath caught when he entered her, and she clung to his shoulders. “Oh, Mason,” she said. When he kissed her neck, she tilted her head to the side and thought that this was how love should be made, on impulse in the middle of the afternoon. She inhaled the scent of his aftershave...spice, musk, and a hint of the outdoors. His silky chest hair teased her breasts, and she loved the ripple of muscle when he moved. When Grace wrapped her other leg around him, he held her up with his strong arms, big hands beneath her bum. When he pressed her back against the wall, Grace urged him on, faster, harder, until she cried out and buried her face in his shoulder. She felt him stiffen and shudder with his release, and then he laughed weakly.

  “God...”

  Grace remained wrapped around him, inhaling shaky breaths. “I know...that was...God, there are no words. Afternoon delight?”

  “Delight is way too tame. Afternoon mind-­blowing, amazing. I could keep going.”

  “Really?” She raised her eyebrows and bit her bottom lip.

  Mason laughed. “I mean the description. The rest of me needs to recover. Although being with you has my body doing things I didn’t know were possible. You just turn me on something fierce.”

  Grace laughed and then realized that he was still holding her up against the wall and she must be getting heavy. “Mason, you can put me down now, love.”

  Mason kissed her and then helped ease her feet back to the floor. He rested his forehead against hers as if trying to gather himself together. “That beats the hell out of a coffee break any old time.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you. But now we must get back to work, Sir Brewmaster.”

  Mason tilted his head. “Oh, so I’ve been upgraded to Sir Brewmaster?”

  “I do believe you deserve the lofty title.”

  Mason nodded and then started gathering up his clothes. “I think I like it.” He gave her a lingering kiss. “I’d better get dressed before we start getting some deliveries.”

  “I’ll pull myself together and then do some work on the Facebook page. Then I’m going to meet with Sophia and Mattie and do some last-­minute tweaks with the menu. We’re going to keep it simple and focus on the ale.”

  “Smart thinking.”

  “I have my moments.”

  He kissed her again and then brushed her hair from her face. “I like having moments with you, Gracie. And I want to have a lot more of them.”

  “Me too.” Grace smiled, but after Mason walked out of the office, she tried not to let thoughts of her limited future in Cricket Creek get in the way of her happiness. During the launch of the brewery, she felt energized and in her element. But once everything was up and running smoothly, the challenge would end and she would crave something new. What could this lovely but laid-­back town offer her that could fill that void?

  “Don’t think about it,” she whispered as she tugged her clothes back on. But not thinking about it wasn’t fair to Mason either. Grace sat down on the edge of the desk and thought about how her mother had been unhappy because the men she married lived a much different lifestyle than she wanted. But most important was that neither Rick Ruleman nor her father was ever around. Although her mother always presented a positive attitude, even in the worst of times, Grace could see the loneliness lurking in her eyes. Her mother was an amazing, successful woman and deserved happiness. Grace gripped the desk and swallowed hard. How on earth did one combine the two very different backgrounds and lifestyles without being doomed to failure?

  But it can be done, a voice whispered in her head. Just look at Garret and Mattie, right? Who would have ever thought that her rebellious brother could have been tamed by a sweet-­natured small-­town girl? And who would have guessed that Mattie would have followed him to London on her own, prepared to live in a foreign country just to be with the man she loved?

  “It can be done,” she repeated firmly, planting a seed of hope in her heart. Now all she had to do was let it grow.

  15

  Taking Care of Business

  MASON LOOKED AROUND THE TAPROOM FOR THE MILlionth time and shoved his fingers through his hair, making the shorter cut stand on end. Or maybe his hair was already standing on end and he didn’t know it. Although this was a soft opening, with only close friends and family invited, his stomach decided that it would be fun to do a few flip-­flops along with a few dips and turns along the way. With a groan he reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of Tums. After popping one in his mouth, he grimaced at the chalky taste. He didn’t think it was even possible to be this damned nervous. What the hell? He’d fished tournaments with thous
ands of dollars on the line, racing back to the weigh-­in station with only seconds to spare, and hadn’t been this torn up.

  Mason looked across the room and spotted Grace behind the bar drying glasses. She, on the other hand, seemed to be as cool as a damned cucumber, humming along to the music, completely in her element. Everything, from the upbeat tunes being piped in through state-­of-­the-­art speakers to the variety of appetizers paired to go with the ales, was perfectly organized and ready to go. And she’d slept like a baby last night, while he’d tossed and turned.

  So what was he so uptight about? As if on cue, Grace looked up. Flipping her dish towel over her shoulder, she caught his eye and gave him a reassuring thumbs-­up along with a bright smile.

  Mason retuned the gesture, wishing he felt as at ease as Grace appeared. It occurred to him that he could never have pulled this off without her in a million years. When he’d decided to convert the old boathouse into a brewery, all he really thought about was brewing kick-­ass, award-­winning ale. All of this other promo stuff was just beyond him. His family never had to promote Mayfield Marina very much, just an ad here and there or sponsoring local events and Little League baseball teams, so this hoopla wasn’t something he’d thought about. In truth, he’d been concentrating on the quality of the beer so much that he hadn’t given this evening all that much thought, until, well, pretty much now. What had seemed so far in the future was suddenly upon him. The dream he’d been working toward for the past two years was unfolding before his eyes, so what the hell was suddenly his problem?

  Mason glanced through the window to the brewery, thinking that was where he’d rather be right now instead of in all this party-­atmosphere crap. Once the taproom was up and running, he’d leave the bartending to Danny and Colby, content to stay behind the scenes for the most part.

  But it occurred to Mason that although he’d never been much of a party animal, unlike Danny, at one time he did enjoy the bonfires and gatherings at the marina. But back then he’d had Lauren on his arm and he’d been in a different place, a different frame of mind. But after he’d had to curtail his fishing career, he’d pulled back from everyone, including Lauren. His sullenness hadn’t given her the right to cheat on him, but Mason knew that the end of their relationship was partly his own damned fault.

  The difference between Lauren and Grace was that Grace had been drawing him out of his broodiness, as she called it. But the cloud that had all but disappeared suddenly hovered above his head without so much as a damned storm warning. Really bad-­ass timing, for damned sure. Shake it off, he thought. Shake it the hell off!

  Gracie reached behind the bar, put on a witch’s hat, and struck a pose. Although Mason had to admit that she looked cute, he didn’t return the second thumbs-­up. Try as he might, the whole Broomstick Brewery still didn’t exactly sit well with him, but he’d sort of refused to think about it and stayed in the brewery and out of the taproom. Mason knew that Gracie was right about her creative marketing plan to bring women into the fold. But now that the witch theme was staring him in the face, he felt uncertain.

  But when Grace’s smile faltered, he felt like an ass. She’d been working her tail off for this night, tirelessly, all the way down to having the flying-­witch logo on napkins and T-­shirts to give away. And while Mason truly appreciated all that she’d done for the brewery, she still drove him crazy with her need to be in control. He wanted to rein her in, but the problem was that he was so completely in love with her that he found more joy in her smiles and laughter than in squashing her ideas, many of which he found a tad out there. One of his continual worries was that his buddies were going to laugh their asses off at the witchcraft thing.

  Mason’s down-­to-­earth dad had raised his eyebrows at the Broomstick Brewery concept, but his mother was too caught up in grandma duties with Lily to care about the name. And Danny was the biggest surprise of all, buying into the whole thing, including calling his amazing chocolate porter Black Magic. Mason glanced at the logo painted on the wall and felt an unexpected flash of anger.

  “Want to get out of here for a minute?” Grace called over to him. “You look like you need a breath of fresh air.”

  “People will be arriving in a couple of hours,” Mason protested with an edge to his tone that he didn’t like but couldn’t seem to stop. “Fresh air will have to wait.”

  Grace came from around the bar and walked his way. “Hey, you can relax. Everything is more than ready. Mattie, Sophia, and Mum will be bringing over trays of cheeses, fruit, and finger sandwiches.”

  “What the hell is a finger sandwich?”

  “Sandwiches made of fingers.” Grace laughed. “Come on, you know, fun-­sized beauties that will fit on party plates. Roast beef and baby Swiss cheese, country ham on Mattie’s melt-­in-­your-­mouth biscuits, turkey with a tangy cranberry spread that’s really amazing. Mattie loved getting the menu together. She plans to leave the sandwiches on Walking on Sunshine’s menu, available for early happy hour as soon as she gets her liquor license and can have your ale on tap at the bistro.”

  Mason nodded and reminded himself that the success of the brewery was going to be an asset to more than just him. He was going to add employees at the brewery, but he would need bartenders in the taproom as well.

  “Garret is going to provide some casual live music outside around the fire pit. I just looked again and the weather is going to dip down into the upper fifties, a perfect night for being outside. I checked everything off on my clipboard.” She dusted her hands together and gave him another smile. “We’re good to go, so you can stop with the scowls.”

  “When will Colby and Danny get here? Will they be enough at the bar?”

  “Sophia is going to pitch in once the food is delivered, and she said that Avery offered to help out too.”

  “Are you paying all of them?”

  “They said they work for beer and food.” She gave him a nudge. “Come on, Sir Brewmaster, snap out of your mood.” She snapped her fingers in front of his face.

  “You’ve got everything under control,” Mason said, but then looked away, trying to keep his odd mood from upsetting Grace. She didn’t deserve it.

  “Except for you.” While her tone was light, Mason could hear a measure of hurt in her voice as well, and he hated to be the cause. He suddenly wished he were out on the lake fishing.

  Grace put a hand on his arm. “What’s wrong, love?”

  “Nothing.” Everything.

  “Talk to me.”

  “Grace, there’s nothing to say. I’m just a little bit on edge. I’m sorry,” he said, but it sounded lame to his own ears.

  “Hey, it’s normal to be nervous for something like this. It’s the night you’ve been working toward. But honestly, I don’t see what could possibly go wrong. Tony’s wife, Trish Marino, is coming by to cover the event for the Cricket Creek Courier. She’s such a sweetie that I just know the review will be great. She’s going to bring some pizza and desserts from River Row Pizza in exchange for putting some of their menus out on the tables. Nice, since they will be carrying our beer on tap soon, so it’s really smart cross-­promotion. I’ve been amazed at how the businesses support each other around here.”

  “Well, a few years back this town was struggling big-­time. Working together was the only way to keep local mom-­and-­pops afloat, and as you know, the marina was one of them.”

  “Mason, all of Cricket Creek is proud to have a craft brewery here. It’s a perfect addition to the town, when you think about it. You should feel so good about adding this sweet operation that will enhance the lives of locals and attract tourists. Everybody wins. Especially you.”

  “If not for you, I might not be up and running,” Mason said, trying to give her the props that she deserved, but his tone came out stilted and all wrong.

  “Oh wow.” Grace shook her head and then dropped her hand from his arm. “I ge
t it now,” she said quietly. “I forced this Broomstick Brewery theme on you and now you resent me for it. And now that the opening is upon us, the realization is smacking you in the face.”

  “You know I was dead set against the witches theme from the beginning. I didn’t pull any punches.”

  Grace waved her hand in an arc. “This isn’t a whim. You know damned well that I put lots of research into this marketing plan. You have to have a hook. Have to stand out.”

  “Oh, it stands out.”

  “Everybody else thinks it’s brilliant.”

  Mason remained silent.

  “Except you. If you hated it this much, why on earth didn’t you stop me?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Mason looked up at the ceiling and then back at her. “You were impossible to stop. And I haven’t forgotten that you’re the boss of marketing.”

  Grace gasped. “Oh, so that’s what this is all about? Listen, when you signed on the dotted line, we became a team. I don’t know squat about brewing beer and you don’t know a thing about marketing.” She patted her chest with the flying-­witch logo on the front so hard that her hat slid to the side. “A team! I’m not your boss. I’m in charge of marketing. And you said that you wanted to protect Shane McCray’s investment. That meant coming up with something creative and memorable. Drawing in women who already love craft beer and especially those who haven’t given it a try. We talked about it! You know all of this. I can’t believe you’re saying this rubbish to me right now! What’s gotten into you, Mason? This isn’t like you at all.”

  He couldn’t answer because he didn’t know.

  “Wow.” She tossed her hat at him. “All right, then. I’m out of here.” Grace turned and then stomped away. She walked through the door without looking back, and he didn’t blame her.