“Have you told her about your engagement?”
“No, and I think it’s best if we don’t even bother,” I remark, wiping down the counter.
“That’s a shame. Don’t you want her to be a part of it all?”
I spin around and lean back on the counter. Shaking my head, I answer, “No. I haven’t spoken to my mother more than a dozen times in the last two years.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It really is, but Mason reminded me that not all mothers are like mine.” An “ah-ha” moment hits her, and she decides to change the subject. She moves around the kitchen, knowing where everything is and doing most of the work. I feel like I’m not being useful. Then again, I’m sure that’s what she wants. I love her genuine motherly demeanor. Mason was right all mothers are different, and his mom is pretty stellar.
“Do you plan on working after you and Mason marry?” she asks, pulling out a cutting board and a large knife. “Can you cut the tomatoes?”
“Sure.” I rinse the tomatoes and begin cutting. “I need to find a job again,” I remark. I don’t want her to think that I’m just going to use her son.
“Why?” she asks turning on the grill top on the stove.
“Our relationship caused a bit of anger from the owners, and well, I was fired,” I answer honestly because I know it’s going to come out, unfortunately.
“That’s lousy, but I meant why would you want to work when you don’t have to. It’s going to be hard with all the grandbabies you two are going to give me.” She smiles playfully.
“I just graduated from college, so at this point, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m letting Mason lead the way for now.”
“I wish I had more kids, but after learning about my husband, I’m glad it was only Mason.” There’s a story there, but I’m not sure I should ask. I finish up the tomatoes for the salad and toss them in with the rinsed mixed lettuce.
“I’m sorry about your husband.”
“I’m sorry I wasted so many years with the cheating bastard,” she mutters out. Wow, Mason didn’t mention that, but then again, it’s not something you go bragging about. “Sorry, let’s not dampen the mood. I just want you to know that Mason is nothing like his father.” She pours herself a glass of wine and I can see that the past still burns. I can’t imagine being in that position after raising a family.
“I hope that we have several kids. I grew up without siblings and my step-siblings were nothing more than strangers to me,” I admit. Thinking of having Mason’s babies hits me straight in my chest. I can imagine little boys looking adorable with their father’s light eyes and dark brown hair.
“You never got along with your step-siblings?”
“No, the first ones were already adults in my mother second marriage, and my latest step-sister hates me.”
“Really, I can see why.” Before I can be offended, she adds, “You’re beautiful, sweet, and educated.”
“She’s educated and beautiful,” I add.
“Yes, but if she felt like you were competing for her father’s love or maybe a boyfriend’s attention, she would hate you.” I can’t help but laugh at that.
“What? Did one of her boyfriends fall for you?”
“No, but she wanted Mason and Mason wanted me.”
“Ah. That explains getting fired,” she replies. “Dinner’s ready. Do you want to call Mason for me? Wait better yet, I’ll do it. If you go, he’s going to be attacking you again, and the food is going to get cold.”
Chapter 14
Mason
I did my best to let the two of them bond, but I couldn’t wait for my mom to leave. As soon as she pulls out of the gate, I’m on Winter, claiming her mouth in a delayed kiss. For three hours, I barely had a stolen peck or two, and I’m going through withdrawals.
“How about we go celebrate upstairs?” Winter suggests.
Shaking my head, I have a whole different suggestion. “Take off your clothes, right here, right now. I want to Christen the tree.” Winter stares at me for a minute, biting her bottom lip nervously before finally grabbing the hem of her creamy sweater. Her tits bounce when her arms go over her head and then jiggle some more as she brings them down again. I strip out of my clothes, growling in the process like a possessed beast. Pulling the throw out of the ottoman, I lay it over the tree skirt. Then I drag my beautiful fiancée to the floor. On our knees, we share kisses, licking and biting gently until I lower her onto the throw. My hands move up and down her sides, caressing her taut breasts. I drop my head and suck on her nipple through the lacy cream-colored bra.
“Thank you, Winter. Thank you for being mine,” I whisper, kissing her all the way down to the waist of her yoga pants. I drop kisses on her mound over the fabric causing her to squirm from the sensations. “You smell so damn good. I need your pussy. Are you ready to come for me, Winter?”