Frenemies

There was a pause. “We’re out of chorizo.”

“Grandma, I’m not making you another charcuterie board. All you all did was stalk poor Mr. Hawkins who just wanted to prune his rose bushes.” It was my turn to stop. “Oh, my God. You’re going to perv on Mason.”

Her silence gave her away.

“No. I’m coming home.”

“Imogen! We’ve been reading War and Peace for the last three weeks! It’s imperative that we have our snacks.”

“War and Peace? Are you shitting me? You’re reading Fifty Shades of Grey hardbacks with War and Peace dust covers you ordered off eBay.”

“How do you know that?”

“You used my eBay account!”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.” I pulled into the parking lot of the store. “I’ll get you what you need, but it’s the last time, do you hear me? You need to find a new place for your clandestine stalker parties.”

“It’s a book club, darlin’.”

“Whatever you say, Grandma. I’m going now. Bye.” I hung up before she could add another thing onto the list. Thankfully, she’d never worked out texting, so I knew I was safe with the list she’d given me on the phone.

I tapped out the items into the notes app on my phone and made my way inside, pausing to grab a cart on the way in. It took me mere minutes to get through the store, and I was about ready to check out when I paused and looked at the wine aisle.

Yeah.

If the Stalker Club was meeting at home tonight, I needed the wine.

All. The. Wine.

I scanned the aisle for my favorite Sauvignon. There was only one bottle left, and I darted toward it to grab it. My fingers touched the bottle at the same time another very male hand did.

“Well, this is awkward.”

Narrowing my eyes, I turned my face toward the man who was currently accosting what was clearly my bottle of wine. “You’re on my wine, Mr. Black.”

Mason’s lips twitched to the side. “On the contrary, Ms. Anderson, you’re on my wine.”

“No, I don’t think I am.”

“Maybe we can cut our losses and share it.”

“You’re as delusional as I was when you said, “I’ll call you.””

He dropped his grip on the bottle with a laugh. “Touché. I’ll give you this one.”

Damn right you will.

“Thank you.” I plucked the bottle from the shelf and nestled it into the cart with everything Grandma had demanded I buy.

Mason’s gaze followed my hand. “Girls’ night?”

“You’d think, but no.” I offered no further explanation.

He grabbed another bottle of Sauvignon that was more expensive and set it in his cart. “Your grandmother?”

“How did you guess?”

“She strikes me as a chorizo and brie kinda woman.”

“She spoke to you today, didn’t she?”

“She demanded my attention,” he said carefully, leaning against the cart. “Does that class as speaking?”

“In her eyes? Yes,” I said dryly. “What did she say to you?”

“That it was her turn to host the book club, so if I saw several excitable women at your house, I wasn’t to assume you were hosting a sex party.”

Yep. That was Grandma all right. “Sounds about right,” I admitted. “The food is for her; the wine belongs to me. I don’t think it needs any further explanation.”

Mason grinned. It was the same grin he’d given me when he’d seen me on my front porch, the one that made his eyes crinkle at the edges.

It gave me the willies. The good willies. Butterflies-esque-willies.

I didn’t like it.

I cleared my throat and steered my cart to turn it around. “Well, I need to get this to the local horny elderly chapter, so…”

“You can’t bring yourself to have a conversation with me, can you?”

I paused. “What do you mean?”

“You keep running away.”

“I do not. Your daughter needed—” I paused. “Where’s your daughter? Did you lose her?”

Mason laughed, dipping his head back. “No. She’s with her mom.”

I said nothing.

“At her mom’s house. Thirty minutes away.”

“Oh. I assumed you were together.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Why? Because all the people who have kids are together?”

“No, but nobody in their right mind would move with a child in tow.”

He grinned again, rubbing the side of his jaw. “We tried to convince Maya it was a bad idea, but she wanted to see the house. I viewed it without her, and she was pissed.”

“She’s like… four. How can she be so mad?”

“Almost.” Mason put another bottle of wine in his cart. “She’s four in a few weeks. I guess you’ve never heard of a threenager.”

“I don’t have children, so no.” I turned my cart fully. “So you’re not with her mom?”

Mason followed me to the end of the aisle where I browsed some cordials, pretending not to care. “No. We broke up a week before she found out she was pregnant. We tried again after that, but we were just friends. Still are, actually.”

“That’s good for Maya.” I put a lemon cordial I didn’t want in my cart and moved along.