Fall by Winter

Mason nodded once. “I’ll be there at ten.”

That was a booty call time, and I didn’t even care. Actually, it was for the best. The boundaries had been set. It was adult, casual, no-strings fun. I wouldn’t have to open up and let him see the complications of my life, and I got to worship the body of the sexiest man alive from a safe distance, emotionally.

Mason had put several feet between us and was collecting his breath, hands planted on his thighs, when Brady and Aurora turned up around the corner.

My heart was still hammering.

“Ha! He has the ball,” Brady said in triumph. “You’re fucking weird, Mom.”

I huffed and straightened my clothes.

I wasn’t weird. I was…passionate and resourceful? Something like that.FiveThe eleventh hour was for cold feet.

William had been here to pick up Aurora after dinner, Brady had returned to Seattle, and I’d called Sharon for support.

The first thing she noticed when she arrived was the bouquet of wildflowers on the kitchen island.

She read the note and quirked a brow at me. “‘From your new neighbor’?”

“Mason left them on the porch yesterday when I was out with Brady,” I replied, pouring us some coffee.

“Uh-huh. And you think he’s only interested in something casual?”

“Well, of course.” I frowned and carried the mugs to the island. “It’s what I want too, for the record. I’m more and more certain that I never want a real relationship again.”

“Why?” She didn’t understand. She never had. “If you mention your nonexistent baggage, I fucking swear.”

“It’s the little things, all right?” I blew out a breath, frustrated. “I’ve become so comfortable these past two years, and I’m tired. You have to remember, I spent the last ten years of my marriage raising two kids and acting as William’s caregiver. I walked on eggshells, constantly afraid something would trigger a depressive episode for him. I have this bone-deep weariness in me—and no matter how much I love trying new things and being social, once the energy drains out of me, I…” Damn. I removed my glasses and scrubbed my hands over my face. “I’m too tired to shave my legs all the time, too tired to put in contacts, too tired to give a crap.”

I put on my glasses again and stared at the flowers Mason had given me. They were so beautiful, and I didn’t even know where he’d found them at this time of year. I’d always liked daisies—and lavender, for that matter.

“I think, at the end of the day, I want someone who leaves. Someone who goes back to his place so I can relax properly.” If I got lucky, Mason could be that person. The ink on his divorce hadn’t dried yet. “I don’t think Mason will protest. I sincerely doubt he’s looking for anything serious, but we apparently do have this weird chemistry between us.”

“Oh, so you’ve noticed it now, too?” Sharon smiled wryly.

I chuckled and reached for the honey on the condiment tray at the center of the island. “I have half a mind to open the door in PJs and a wax strip above my lip. Then he’ll see how sexy aging truly is.” I shook my head and ignored her mirth. “Seriously. I gave William my best years—physically, at least. Now, every part of me requires more maintenance than my first car did.”

Sharon grinned a little and took a sip of her coffee. “I don’t know, I love that part of marriage. Jim and I have teamed up against our enemy—the kids. He makes sure I don’t have a stray hair on my chin that the boys can point out and laugh at, and I interrupt to give him a rest whenever he does anything strenuous with them.”

It sounded lovely. Enough so that her words caused a pang of loss in my chest. Or perhaps it was wistfulness, because William and I hadn’t been that kind of team.

I touched my chin absently. Those little hairs were there sometimes.

“This is my nemesis, though.” Sharon held up her arm and touched the soft flesh under her bicep. “No amount of exercise will remove this damn flab.”

I felt her pain. For me, it was the mommy pooch. “Unlike me, you look good in a bikini,” I said. “I have to wear Spanx if I want to put on anything remotely formfitting.”

She shook her head. “Men don’t care about that, especially with your tits and ass.”

“Oh, these?” I pushed mine up to demonstrate where they’d once been.

She laughed and waved me off. “Listen to us, complaining like grumpy old men.”

I snickered, holding up my mug. “At least we have our health, or some such bullshit.”

“That’s the spirit!” She clinked her mug to mine and took a sip.

I sighed and followed suit, then checked the clock on the microwave. Mason was due in an hour. For now, I was good on maintenance. I’d showered, shaved, trimmed, plucked, waxed, and exfoliated.