“That’s why you’ve always kept Katrina in the best friend zone,” Levi went on while Mason digested everything he had to say. Things he knew but rarely verbalized or liked to think about. “Because that way, you can keep Katrina close and not worry about doing something stupid to make her leave you. But that’s what best friends do. They stick around during the tough times, they support you and always have your back. And they forgive you when you’re an asshole.”
That last part made Mason chuckle. “And we all know that’s happened a time or two.”
“Or a dozen,” Levi added with a smirk. “My best advice? Don’t be that asshole and repeat your hit-it-and-quit-it pattern with Katrina and give her a reason to put any more distance between the two of you. This is your chance to get things right with her, and the fact that you came back from Vegas and haven’t reverted to your manwhore ways tells me that maybe she’s the one. Hell, maybe she’s always been the one and you’re just now opening yourself up to the possibility.”
As scary as that sounded, Mason nodded in agreement. That’s exactly what it felt like—like he was finally allowing himself to be emotionally vulnerable for the first time in his life, but he had no idea where Katrina stood. For all he knew, she’d already moved on to Blake, and her time with Mason in Vegas was nothing more than a distant memory.
He swore beneath his breath, refusing to even consider that possibility. Nor was he going to let some other guy get between him and Katrina. Not without a fight.
Mason glanced at Levi, curious about a few things his brother had left unsaid. “So, since you’ve psychoanalyzed me, how come you’ve never had a serious relationship before?”
“Who says I haven’t?” Levi shot back.
His brother’s quick reply caught Mason by surprise. “Well, considering I’ve never seen you date a woman for any length of time, either, or bring one around for Clay and me to meet, I just thought you were being discriminate. See, I know what that big word means,” Mason joked. “Or maybe you’re saving yourself for marriage.”
Levi laughed out loud. “Not even close. I’m just more discreet than you.”
Mason watched his brother finish the rest of his orange juice spritzer and push the glass across the bar. Levi had gone through all of high school without a girlfriend—that Mason knew of—and right after graduating at the age of seventeen, he’d joined the Army with Clay’s consent and served in the military for four years. He’d been back for over two years, and was now a cop with Chicago P.D., and there was no woman in his life to speak of.
“Were you seeing someone in the military?” Mason asked, wondering if something had happened during that time.
“Tonight was all about you, not me,” Levi said, smoothly skirting the issue as he stood up and clapped Mason on the back. “My intervention here is done, and now I can get back to House of Cards with a clear conscience, knowing I saved my brother from doing something stupid that he might regret later. Oh, and no charge for the therapy session.”
“Here’s your payment,” Mason said, and gave Levi the middle finger.
Levi just shook his head and chuckled as he headed out of the bar, leaving Mason alone once again. But at least this time he wasn’t wallowing. No, now he was strategizing and thinking about a game plan to win over the one woman—the only woman—he wanted in his life.
* * *
When Mason arrived at the shop the following morning at ten a.m., he was feeling upbeat and optimistic about Katrina and the day ahead, despite the fact that she’d gone to dinner with another man the night before. He carried a to-go drink tray with two large coffees he’d stopped and picked up on the way to work—a straight black brew for him and Katrina’s preferred steamed caramel latte—along with her favorite apple-and-cream-cheese Danish.
As he stepped into Inked, he was greeted by the sight of a dozen red roses on the front counter in a crystal vase and Katrina s
tanding there in a cute black mini-dress and lace-up thigh-high boots he immediately fantasized about having wrapped around his waist while he fucked her against the counter. Yeah, his dick supported that idea one hundred percent.
She had a big smile on her face . . . but it wasn’t for him. No, it was a result of the small card she was reading that had come with the flowers that Blake had no doubt sent.
So much for surprising her with a coffee and pastry. His meager gifts were no match for the vibrant, gorgeous arrangement that had probably cost a small fortune. Clearly, Blake was staking his claim, and Mason exhaled a deep, calming breath so he didn’t overreact and say something stupid that would just cause Katrina to withdraw from him even more. His goal was the opposite, to reestablish the friendship that meant so much to both of them, and build from there.
But Jesus, he hadn’t expected to have to compete with wealth and sophistication and a guy who knew how to woo and romance a woman. Those were skills Mason had never had a need for, but he realized that he definitely needed to step up his game if he was going to compete with someone of Blake Cavanaugh’s caliber.
He came up beside Katrina, and she quickly stuffed the card she was reading back into the envelope before he could see what it said. She buried it into her purse that was still on the counter, then turned around to face him with a flush on her cheeks and her expression flustered.
From reading Blake’s note, he wondered? Shit. He hated that another man could have that effect on her. Jealousy tightened across his chest, and he refused to allow his mind to conjure up images of Blake and Katrina together, doing those things that only Mason wanted the privilege of doing with and to her.
“Hey,” she said with a forced smile, her demeanor reserved, as if she wasn’t sure what to expect from him this morning.
“Hey, yourself,” he replied with a genuine smile while doing his best not to act like a possessive dick, which would only put her guard up even more. “I got you a caramel latte and a Danish,” he said, handing her both.
“Thank you,” she said, this time sounding truly pleased by the thoughtful gesture.
He tossed the to-go holder in the trash and took a sip of his strong coffee. “How was your date with Blake last night?” See, he could totally be civilized about the situation.
“It was . . . good,” she said, much too vaguely, and wouldn’t quite meet his gaze.
What the hell did good mean? Mason didn’t push. Wouldn’t push. But fuck, he wanted to. Badly. So, instead, he said, “I’m glad you had a good time,” then headed over to his station to set up for his first appointment of the day.
When he casually glanced back to the front counter, he caught Katrina watching him with a frown as she took a bite of her pastry. Obviously, she hadn’t expected him to act so rationally, and even Mason had to admit he was impressed with himself because it had taken every ounce of control he possessed not to carry her off to his private office and put his stamp of ownership all over her the best way he knew how.