Spicy with a Side of Cranberry Sauce (2 page)

She poured herself a glass of cold water and held it to her forehead. It wasn’t hot outside, but she was still flushed from her unexpected encounter in the grocery store. As soon as this week was over, she’d give Mason a call and see about the tour of Denver he’d offered her. She had two potential interviews there and one in Boulder. Maybe she could make the trip a blend of business and pleasure.

Hearing a vehicle pull into the driveway made her stomach clench. That had to be one of Martha’s sons. She set the glass down, fearing she might drop it or shatter it in her hands. She forced the image of Mason from her mind as she took a deep breath.

She waited for Dad to call her into the living room, but no one came to the front door. She sighed at the false alarm, grateful for a few extra minutes of peace.

I hope Martha’s sons like me
. Because one false move could upset Dad, and he might decide the whole thing was a wash and stop seeing Martha. She didn’t want that to happen. Their first Thanksgiving in fifteen years was going to be perfect, damn it.

Finally the front door opened and closed with a loud thud. “Mom?” a voice called.

Martha’s son sounded entirely too familiar.

“Ames, come in here, honey,” Dad said.

She braced herself and walked through the swinging door into the dining room, then turned the corner into the living room and froze when she saw Mason in the entryway. His goatee and five-o’clock shadow begged to be touched, just as they had in the store, but she couldn’t give in to the urge now. Shit. Mason was Martha’s son. She stood staring at him for entirely too long, it seemed. But she couldn’t make her brain work enough to move her body forward or act normal.

The only guy she’d met in the past two years to actually make her blush…

“Amy, this is my son, Mason,” Martha said, her back to Mason’s shocked face.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Amy employed her teacher voice. It was her default defense.

“You too,” he said.

Mason’s arms were weighed down with groceries. She thought she spotted a can of cranberry sauce in one of the bags. He must have gone somewhere else to get it. That was why she got back to the house before he did. She wanted to laugh at the idiocy of the situation.

“Here, let me help you with those.” She walked across the room with halting steps. When she reached out to grab a few bags, his fingers brushed against hers, zinging her with electricity.

“Ah, leave the digits attached, please.”

Oops. She looked down at the tangled mess she’d made of the plastic wrapped around their hands. She’d been distracted staring into his face, imagining rubbing her cheek against the stubble. But that was out of the question now. Their parents were dating, for Christ’s sake. Which meant she had to keep her hands, and her cheeks, to her damned self.

She took two bags from him and turned away, rushing through the dining room and into the kitchen before the parents picked up on the weirdness. He swiftly followed her. The door swung closed behind him as she put the bags down on the counter.

“Holy shit,” she murmured. She turned to stare into those electric blue eyes.

“Um, not exactly the way I would put it, but yeah. That about sums it up.” His Texas drawl danced over her skin, making her shiver. He could
not
make her react like this. She closed her eyes, needing to block him out visually to even attempt to focus.

“So…your dad and my mom?” The disbelief in his voice stung, and she opened her eyes so she could glare at him. What the hell was wrong with her dad?

“They dated at the University of New Orleans,” she said. “They reconnected a few months ago at the UNO alumni event.”

“Funny, Mom’s never mentioned him.”

What was with the anger in his voice? “Well, that’s not my fault. So stop looking at me like it is.”

His eyes widened. “Don’t get me wrong, darlin’. I really wanted to see you again. This just wasn’t what I had in mind, ya know? Thanksgiving’s always been a family holiday for us. No offense, sweetheart, but you ain’t family.”

How
dare
he? He didn’t even know them. Would it really kill him to give her dad a chance? She tried to tamp down her temper. Fighting with him would only make things worse. She knew that.

“Whatever you expected when you showed up here, I’m really sorry that Dad and I have screwed that up for you. But you’re going to have to put on your big-boy panties and deal with it.” Instead of placating, her voice came out a challenge, a demand. And louder than it should be.

“Keep your voice down,” he said, the words practically a growl. But she refused to back off.

“Don’t you talk to me like that. You have no right.”

He took a step closer to her, the groceries forgotten on the island behind him. “So that sweet kindergarten teacher I met at Hanson’s, she was just charming me out of cranberry sauce, huh? You don’t have any idea what my mom’s been through the past few years. Your dad shouldn’t be taking advantage of her like this. It’s not right.” This time his words were more deflated.

She’d liked Mason’s sweet manner from the start, but clearly that had just been an act to pick up women. Because the man now standing before her was anything but sweet. Frustration and distrust burned in his eyes. She couldn’t blame him for being hurt if Martha hadn’t told him she had a new man in her life. But that wasn’t Amy’s fault, and she wasn’t going to let him convince her it was. His brow was furrowed, his lips drawn tight in a scowl.

“My dad isn’t taking advantage of anyone. Martha’s the one who asked us down here. She suggested it. Not him. I know the divorce was tough on her, but don’t you think it’s good that she’s moving on?”

“Don’t talk about my mother like you know her. You don’t know the first thing about her. Or my family.”

God, she had to fix this.

“I need you to leave my dad alone. Whatever’s going on in your family and with your mother, it has nothing to do with us. So please leave us out of it.”

“Oh, but you’re both right in the middle of it. You saw to that when you showed up.”

She so didn’t like this side of him. Where was the cute flirty guy who helped her carry her stuff to the front of the store? She didn’t want to fight with him, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Trying to give them both a few moments to cool down, she grabbed the turkey pan out of the bag on the island. But she had to resist the urge to slam it against his head and knock some sense into him. After turning away from him, she reached to set it on top of the fridge. He moved in close behind her. Trying to intimidate her into leaving?

Not a chance.

He could be as frustrated with their being here as he wanted behind closed doors. As long as he didn’t upset Dad. She backed up and slammed her body into his. She wasn’t going to let him scare her off. He grunted and stiffened with the impact. She turned and gave him a little shove, her hands on his chest. She studiously ignored how warm and hard his pecs were beneath her fingers. She didn’t have time for an attraction to Martha’s son, especially if this was really what he was like. So why did the heat from his skin seem to infuse hers, taking over her blood and making her legs weak?

“What did you think was going to happen when you barged in here like this?” he asked.

“Your mom invited us down here weeks ago.” She needed to try another tactic. Make him realize that she and her father weren’t the bad guys. But every time she opened her mouth, something snarky came shooting out. “I’m sorry if she didn’t tell you.” She tried to sound sincere, but she couldn’t. Indignation made her incapable of sincerity.

“You don’t sound sorry. You… Damn it.” The words were forceful, and as he gazed down at her, the anger in his eyes changed to something darker. Desire swirled in the bright blue pools, turning them a deeper shade. Her mouth went dry. She tried to drop her hands, but he moved with her, pancaking her between his body and the wall. Her hands stayed firmly on his pecs while his arms caged her in on either side of her head.

“Look, whatever we thought after our not so chance meeting, that’s off the table now. Never going to happen.” She wouldn’t let them succumb to the heat swirling between them. She would
not—

Amy stopped thinking as Mason lowered his head to hers. He crushed his lips against hers, and she moaned, her eyes sliding closed.

She moved her hands up his chest and neck, snaking them into his curls and holding him close as his hot mouth devoured hers. He pushed his body into her, and she slid her tongue out to lick across his lips. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, and she was glad for his body so tightly pressed against hers and for the wall behind her. If not for both, she would have melted into a puddle of need at his feet.

He drove away all her uncertainties about the holiday. Pushed aside her fears and her hope and left her open and raw to his explorations. Her world narrowed to him. His mouth on hers, his hair beneath her fingers, his hard chest pressed into her breasts. She never wanted him to stop. But when Mason pulled back from the kiss, she could think again.

How dare he kiss her?

She’d been fighting with him, damn it. But she’d kissed him right back. Now her breathing was shallow, her face flushed. And it wasn’t all from anger.

“Sorry,” he whispered. But he didn’t move back. And she didn’t ask him to or push him away the way she should have. Instead she stared into those blue eyes, almost a deep midnight now. She shivered at the heat burning there. Honestly, she couldn’t even remember what they’d been fighting about. She let go of his neck and leaned back against the wall, putting a few inches of space between them.

“Hey, Ames, need some—” Dad stopped as he pushed through the kitchen door, his dark eyebrows raised. “What the hell?”

Mason closed his eyes and sighed, stepping back and turning to face Dad. Shit. Thank God Dad hadn’t come in ten seconds earlier. All he saw now was his daughter crowded against the wall.

She cleared her throat, and Dad stopped glaring at Mason, but only for a second. He turned his brown eyes on her, and she fought the urge to wilt beneath his gaze.

“I don’t know what the hell you thought you were doing, young man, but that’s not acceptable.”

“Dad, it’s fine. Don’t make a big deal.” She moved away from the wall and closer to Dad. She couldn’t admit to him that Mason hadn’t been intimidating her so much as seducing her…if rather forcefully.

“Amy,” he said.

Just one word made her five years old again. Dad
never
used that tone with her. It was almost enough to make her crack and tell him everything. She needed to smooth this over. If he thought Mason was a jackass, despite the fact that he might be right, Dad wouldn’t want to hang around. He’d made it very clear it was important she like Martha and her kids, so she would play nice with Mason if it killed her.

And there would be no more kissing.

“Martha wants to take us out to dinner. Why don’t you head upstairs and get ready? I’ll help Mason with the groceries,” Dad said.

It was clear what would happen as soon as she left Mason alone in the kitchen with her father. But she couldn’t see an easy way around it. She didn’t want to argue anymore with Mason. And she certainly didn’t want to fight with Dad.

“I’ll be upstairs, then,” she said. She sent an apologetic look to Mason over her shoulder on the way up the stairs.

Please don’t kill each other.

Why did you kiss her? Idiot
. Mason wanted to run up the stairs after her, but James stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

He stared at James, ready to take whatever consequences he had to like a man. It had been stupid to fight with Amy and worse to kiss her. Now he was being left to clean up the mess.
Thanks, Amy
. Though he probably deserved her desertion after the way he’d talked to her. And damn her for screwing up everything he’d planned to do with her from the moment she’d bumped into him. He hated it when people screwed up his plans.

“You want to explain what the hell that was all about?” James said. “And quickly if you don’t mind. Your mother has enough to worry about this week. She told me you were a good guy, Mason. But then I walk in and see this? You owe me an explanation and my daughter an apology.”

“I know this is going to sound awfully cliché, but it wasn’t what it looked like.” He racked his brain for a convincing line. “I was helping her put something on top of the fridge. She couldn’t reach. She turned and tripped me on accident. I grabbed the wall to keep from falling. That’s all.”

At least her dad hadn’t witnessed the kiss. There would be no talking his way out of that one. He shrugged, making sure all vestiges of desire were wiped from his face.

“You better make sure Amy is going to tell me the same thing when I get upstairs.”

“Yes, sir, she will. I tripped. That’s all.”

James nodded and turned from him, heading up after his daughter. The floor creaked at the top of the stairs, and Mason sighed. Amy had been listening to his cover story. She would tell her father exactly the same thing. Thank God. Not that he really cared what James thought of him. Hell, he didn’t even want James and his daughter here for the holiday. But Mom did. And he’d vowed to give her whatever she wanted this holiday season. Even if that meant being uncomfortable around Amy for the next four days.

“What is going on?” Mom asked, waltzing into the kitchen. Never one to mince words, his mother. He smiled at her. She looked better than she had the last time he’d seen her. She’d dyed her short curls back to red again instead of letting the gray take over. And she’d regained some of the weight she’d lost through her last year of marriage and the divorce. She wore a pair of pastel pants and a matching top. The peach color looked right against her tan skin. It was nice to see her in such a better state. Even with the scowl on her face.

“Nothing, Mom. Everything’s fine. Where do you want this?” He held up the cranberry sauce, trying to distract her even though it was futile.

She arched her eyebrows, and he knew he was in trouble. Mom stepped closer, snatching the can from his grasp and slamming it onto the counter.