He Loves Me Not (Bunch-A-Blooms 1)

“Of course. Your secret is safe with me. I’ll hold my tongue until dinner Sunday.”

“What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Dad?” Mason asked.

He waved him off. “It can wait. I’m going to get out of your hair. It’s a Friday night. You two young people don’t need me around cramping your style.”

It’s already working.

Wrapping his arm around Petunia, he kissed her temple. “We’ll see you Sunday. And like I said, my lips are sealed.”

They walked him to the door, and the minute it was closed he slumped against it.

“I wasn’t ready for that.”

“You!” She slapped his chest. “What happened to Sunday?”

“He was going to give me the runner-up speech. I saw it coming. I had to do something. Look, our merger is already working.”

“Ugh. Don’t call it that, Mas.”

“What would you prefer I call it? Oh, I got it … our courtship.”

“That might be worse,” she mumbled as she pushed away from the door. “What do you have in here to cook? I’m starved, and I can’t handle plotting on an empty stomach.”

He struggled to hide the smirk. She was all in now. He followed her into the kitchen, peering over her shoulder as she looked into his fridge, and then his eyes drifted down to her round ass. He cleared his throat. His hand itched to cup it, but he knew better. Right now, she was on edge. He could wait; he’d grown good at that.

“So what are we having, little flower?”

“Nothing according to your empty fridge.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.”

She snickered. “Says you. You would have steak, though, you freaking carnivore. Do you have potatoes?”

“Yes?”

She looked over her shoulder. “Mason?”

“I have them in the cabinet. I’m just not sure if they’re still fit for consumption.”

“Go check. I’ll make a quick marinade for the steak, and we can get them soaking while we prep some side dishes on the grill. How does corn on the cob and baked potatoes sound?”

“Like you’re trying to get to my heart through my stomach.”

She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled as he walked to the cabinet. Everything about this felt right. Bending down, he pulled a sack of potatoes out of the bottom. The few eyes growing could be cut off, and with a good scrubbing, boiling, and seasoning, they’d be good to go on the grill covered in foil.

“I can salvage them.”

“If I get sick, you’re playing nursemaid.” He stood and walked up behind her, closer than necessary.

“Don’t I always take care of my girl?”

She set the steak wrapped in butcher paper down on the counter and shivered. “Mason.”

He didn’t miss the warning in her voice. But it was in his nature to push limitations. Placing an arm on either side of her, he rested his head on top of hers. “We’re going to be fine.”

“Define fine.”

“Happy, successful, and content.”