Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 93751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Mason held up a hand, laughing. “Whoa. I can only keep one question in my head at a time. I’m not really used to talking about myself.”
“Now’s as good a time to start as any,” Hannah retorted with a grin, feeling more relaxed now that she was on safer ground. “I want to know everything about you.”
He told her about his life in the lower Hudson Valley and about his two older brothers, both of whom had gone into the family construction business. He talked of his parents, who were still alive and well. He lit up when he talked about second grade, where a cooking class was offered four times a year. He’d loved every session more than the last. He’d even asked Santa for an Easy Bake Oven.
“Me too,” Hannah exclaimed, laughing with delight. “I loved making tiny brownies and cookies in that thing. And making my family eat them.”
Mason asked her questions in turn about her early life, her children, her writing career, her exposure to BDSM prior to coming to The Enclave. They shared funny stories about their awkward teenage years and serious recollections about difficult times in their lives.
Their talk was easy and animated, and Hannah couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so relaxed and happy. As clichéd as it sounded, it was as if they’d always known each other.
The room had darkened as they’d talked, the sun setting without their noticing. The wine bottle was empty, Hannah pleasantly buzzed. “What time is it?” she asked.
Mason looked at his watch. “Oh, shit. It’s already eight fifteen. Still want to go to Uptown Café? I’d just as soon order pizza so we can keep talking.”
“I like that idea,” Hannah agreed, not wanting to break whatever lovely spell had wrapped itself around them, capturing them in its warm, lifegiving glow.
Mason pulled out his phone. He typed something quickly, thumbs flying, and then looked up at her. “Mellow Mushroom?”
“The best in Asheville,” she replied with a laugh. “The Holy Shiitake Pie?” It was her favorite pizza at Mellow Mushroom, with an olive oil and garlic base, covered in fresh shiitake and portobello mushrooms, along with caramelized onions, mozzarella and white cheddar cheese, finished with fresh chives and shaved Parmesan.
“You have to ask?” he quipped.
They continued to talk until the delivery guy arrived at the door forty minutes later. They returned to the kitchen and proceeded to inhale the pizza, liberally sprinkled with red pepper flakes and washed down with fresh lemonade.
It was after eleven when they finally pushed back from the table.
“Gosh,” Hannah exclaimed. On the one hand, she didn’t want him to leave. On the other, she was relieved that the decision would be made for her. “I guess you need to head back. You have to be up in seven hours to get breakfast going.”
“Actually, I don’t,” Mason replied. “I texted Anthony before I ordered the pizza. Told him they’d need to fend for themselves for one more day.”
“Oh,” Hannah said, feeling suddenly hot and cold all at once. Her body thrilled at the implications of his words, but her mind was suddenly on high alert. What was he expecting now?
“I’m so glad you came to see me,” she ventured. “I’m happy and relieved we were able to talk things through. This has been a wonderful night. But I’m not sure…”
“Hey, it’s cool,” he said, placing his huge hand on her arm. “Zero pressure, Hannah. I can sleep on the couch, even get a motel room, whatever. I just didn’t want to have the obligation of meal prep hanging over my head in the morning.” He grinned, adding, “The chef needs a day off now and then. And there’s this amazing new breakfast place I wanted to take you to in the morning. They make these blueberry blintzes that are out of this world.”
His easy manner set her at ease. He wasn’t expecting her to fall into bed with him. He didn’t plan to retake control as a Dom. Because, even while the idea was deliciously thrilling in the abstract, she just wasn’t ready.
“Okay,” she agreed. “I have a guest bedroom. I might even have a spare toothbrush.”
“No need,” Mason said, getting to his feet. “I brought an overnight bag.” At her raised brow, he added with a grin, “What can I say? I was a Boy Scout.”
A half hour later Hannah was in her big bed, alone, her door closed. She’d wrestled with herself over whether or not to ask Mason to join her. It had felt odd, even wrong somehow, to invite him into the bed that she’d shared with Andy for so long. Yet, she wanted to lie with Mason, to snuggle against him as he wrapped his strong arms around her.
Their mutual declaration about falling in love made her want to squeal with excitement, but also with terror. Had they really said those words aloud? Was she ready to commit to another man? Would she ever be?