Resolution (Mason Family 5)

And I wouldn’t mind riding his face regularly, either.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Rusti asks. “You’re blushing.”

I wave her off, and I certainly don’t tell her. Not that she doesn’t put two and two together, but I’m not saying it out loud. Because as soon as I do that, this thing with Wade will be over. I’m almost sure of it.

“Your phone is ringing,” she says, pointing at my vibrating device on the table. I pace over and pick it up. “Hello?”

“Hello, Dara.”

Wade’s voice is warm and smooth … and also sleepy. It fills me with the warmth of being in his bed with his arm around me.

“Good morning,” I say, feeling him out. “Did you sleep well?”

“Until nine thirty.”

I gasp like I’m shocked.

“Very funny,” he says. I know he’s smirking. “Thanks for the donuts and the note.”

I turn away from Rusti and grin. “Are you being facetious?”

“Me? Never.”

I laugh. “I’m sorry I snuck out. I didn’t want to wake you, and I had a ton of edits to do this morning and then a photo shoot tonight. It’s a retirement party or something, which is really odd to include a photographer, but whatever. They paid a deposit.”

The line goes silent.

“Wade?”

“Do you go to those things alone?” he asks, his voice hollow.

“Yeah. Usually.” I pause. “Why?”

He clears his throat. “I’m just curious. Is that safe?”

“I’ve done this for a decade, and it’s been fine. I don’t book things that feel off.”

I think he says okay, but I’m not certain.

“What are you doing today?” I ask, redirecting the conversation.

“Working.”

“You’re kidding! I’m so surprised.”

He chuckles. “Smart-ass.”

“Better than having a smart ass.” I run a hand along the curve of my butt. “Speaking of—my behind is a little sore from you smacking it.”

He doesn’t say anything. And as the moments pass, I start to flush.

Did I say the wrong thing?

Oh, hell. I just said that in front of Rusti, and she’s not going to let that go.

“Rusti is here,” I say. “I probably need to go and make sure your pal Cleo isn’t in my trash or something.”

“Sure. Yes. Of course. I just wanted to make sure that you made it home all right.”

My cheeks break out into a full-blown smile. “I did. Thanks for checking.”

“Have a good day, Dara.”

“You too, Wade.”

“Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

I end the call and turn around. Rusti is staring at me.

“Stop,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s just a … thing.”

She hums. “I’m sure.”

Me too.

I think.

TWENTY-NINE

WADE

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I search my briefcase again. Then my pockets. Then the middle console of my SUV for my office keys.

No luck.

“What the fuck?”

I always, without fail, toss them into my briefcase at the end of the day. I really only need them to get into the side door. Otherwise, I have to walk in the front and parade through the lobby on my way to my office.

People are very chatty in the mornings.

Since I have no clue where they might be and really no other choice, I gather my things and head for the main entrance.

The lights are already on, thanks to the cleaning crew that arrives as early as I do on specific days. It saves me from going back home and getting my spare set of keys.

I yank on the door handle and step inside. And then stop.

Eliza is sitting at her desk looking as bewildered to see me as I am too.

My brows shoot to the ceiling as the door swings shut with a pop behind me.

“Oh! Good morning, Mr. Mason.” She withdraws her hands from her keyboard and stiffens. “I didn’t expect to see you so early.”

“I’m here every day at this hour. But why are you here?”

A vacuum roars to life somewhere in the building.

“This is going to sound … a little obnoxious,” she says, glancing briefly at her computer screen. “But the files Stephanie left for me were a mess. And I can’t work efficiently when I have to spend five minutes finding a phone number or a project number or where to buy your Keurig pods. It’s really ridiculous.”

I regrip my briefcase and look at her with surprise—a gesture she must misinterpret.

“Don’t worry,” she says in a rush. “I didn’t clock in. I won’t clock in until six thirty like I’m supposed to. After yesterday, I knew I had to find time to get things in order, and I couldn’t do that during normal business hours. I … I hope you understand.”

Wow.

“I appreciate your effort,” I say. “It’s nice to see someone take such responsibility for their work.”

She smiles.

“Make sure you clock in. Now. You’re working. You should be compensated,” I tell her.

“Are you sure?”

There’s a hint of friendly conversation in her tone, as if this exchange somehow demonstrates a desire on my part to now discuss the weather when I arrive.

I start to walk away but then Dara’s voice trickles through my mind. Compliment her. I can almost see Dara give me the look that says—Don’t ignore me.