Resolution (Mason Family 5)

I roll my chair away from my desk so she can get a better look. Her hair drapes down her back in messy waves.

She looks at me over her shoulder. “This is … my house,” she says softly, her eyes shining. “Isn’t it?”

I nod.

She looks back at the sketch and drags her fingers over the edge. “I mean, it’s not done, I don’t think. But this is … This is exactly what I was thinking.”

My chest burns with relief and a bit of pride.

Those words are the ones that I always yearn to hear. To know that I’ve read the client well and can anticipate their needs before they know them for themselves.

And the fact that I nailed it with her? Fuck.

I roll closer. I shift her to the side so that I can see the paper.

My face is next to her hip, and as much as I love architecture, I can barely concentrate.

All I can feel is the soft curve of her body. I breathe in coconut and her natural musk. I hear her little breaths in the quiet of my house, and I struggle to detach myself from Dara and focus on … anything else.

Anxiety fills the hole in my heart as an overwhelming dread begins to build inside me.

Stop this, Wade. Stop this now while you can.

“This is where you would have your coffee in the morning. At eight o’clock,” I say, teasing her.

She points at a part of my sketch. “Is that an atrium?”

“It is,” I say, my voice low. “You have to think about the way the sun moves through the sky. So having a sunny room for your coffee in the mornings would make sense here.”

I don’t have to look at her to know she smiles. I can feel it somehow. Can she feel the way her smiles make me want to smile too? I don’t know.

I’m better off not knowing.

“Your office could work over here,” I say, pointing at the paper. “Or we could move things around and put it here, next to the master bedroom.”

“My office?”

“Yeah.”

She leans away, a grin growing on her face. “Like an actual office-office?”

“Are you not the CEO of your business?”

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “I guess I am.”

I shrug. “Then let’s give you CEO space to work and grow your business.”

She looks at me with a glimmer of disbelief. “I … I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No. It’s just … it’s been a long time since someone believed in me like that.”

Her voice starts to crack, and her eyes start to blur. I have no idea what to do with that, although I’m fairly certain that it’s not my fault this time.

Thank God.

She looks so beautiful, yet so … alone.

How can she seem so lonely when I’m sitting right here?

“Come here,” I say without a hint of the reservation that my brain screams at me to heed.

She moves toward me and I turn her around. Gently, I arrange her on my lap.

My heart pounds so hard that I’m sure she can feel it. I war internally with a mixture of instincts—both to move away and to pull her closer.

One wins.

I sit back in the chair, scooting her with me, and wrap my arms around her.

My mouth is hot, my swallows nearly painful. It’s so fucking strange to feel so at peace yet so conflicted.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I also can’t do anything else.

“Can I tell you something?” she asks.

“Sure.”

She pulls her knees up into the chair too. “I’m not sure about this house.”

I flinch. “Okay.” I gather myself. “What are you thinking? I can do anything, Dara. I told you. I’m the best.”

“No. Not like that. Not what you designed. I love that.” She grins sadly. “There are moments when … I’m not sure I should accept it.”

“From your grandfather?”

She nods.

“May I ask why?” I ask.

She lays her head on my shoulder. I splay my hand against her hair and hold her tight to me. I choose to ignore the red flags popping off like a bull fight and just … be.

I can gather the red flags later and burn them.

“Like you of all people want to hear about it,” she says, snorting.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I know what it means. She’s right too. Still, I’m a bit offended.

“Let me put it like this—anything that has to do with my grandfather includes a lot of emotions, and I know how you are with intimacy in relationships.”

That motherfucker again.

“I hear your judgment,” I say, my voice wary.

“And I feel yours.” She looks up at me. “You exude this aura of inaccessibility that I know is intentional.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you.”

“True. But this isn’t some random question. This matters.” Her lips dip. “So when you blow me off … I’d rather not do that on this one.”