“We taste good together,” I say.
“Better than sex.” He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, the remnants of humor on his face fading into something more serious. “Everything is better with you, Callie.” His voice takes on a gruff edge, one that incites a surge of warmth through my chest until my throat constricts and I have to close my eyes to hold back the emotion.
Rather than respond, I scoot close and wrap myself around him, clinging hard. “Promise you’ll come find me after this is over, okay?” I pull back just far enough to peer up into his face, hating how my voice has thickened with emotion and my eyes start to burn with hot tears. It’s only been a couple days, but it feels like we’ve known each other so much longer. Tonight is going to be our last night together for I don’t know how long.
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away, baby,” he says.
“God, I can’t believe I found you.”
His lips curl into a slight smile. “Me too. I must be luckier than I think, huh?”
He pulls me tight again, and I press my nose into the crook of his neck, greedily inhaling his scent. Then I sigh and pull away.
“We should get a move on so we can eat and pick up food for Nina. You want to shower while I go put on coffee?”
I begin to stand, but he clings to my hand, giving me a mournful look. “No shower sex?”
I roll my eyes. “We’ve done almost nothing but screw all weekend. Not that I’m complaining, but we should probably start adulting for a change.”
He snorts a laugh as he rolls off the bed and ambles toward my bathroom. In the afternoon light, I catch sight of a dark bruise on his side that wasn’t there before. But he doesn’t seem bothered by it, and I get distracted by his perfect ass flexing beneath his koi fish tattoo with a mesmerizing rhythm that makes me second guess my choice not to join him.
“You don’t think screwing like champions is adult enough? I must not be trying very hard,” he calls back through the door.
“You know what I mean. Our friends need us. I’ll be back with coffee in a few.”
I slip into a robe and wander back downstairs, humming softly at the enticing scent of fresh coffee. It isn’t until I reach the kitchen and stop in front of the coffee maker, blinking in confusion, that I realize it smells so good because it’s already brewing. Not only that, the pot is nearly full of hot, steamy, hazelnut-scented heaven.
“What the hell?” I mutter, my brain still muzzy from all the sex endorphins.
“I thought you two might want something warm to drink. We can always break out the whiskey, though, if you need something stronger.”
I whip around and stare, heart pounding. “Mom? How— How long have you been here?”
She’s seated in the cozy armchair closest to the fireplace, her own steaming mug in hand. Raising it to her lips, she blows gently while arching a single perfect blonde eyebrow. “Long enough, my dear. Long enough.”
28 Mason
I take a deep breath when I step out of the shower, inhaling the sweet aroma of coffee wafting up to the second floor. I don’t think I’ve ever been so relaxed. My situation is still a dark specter at the back of my mind, and Booth’s shooting weighs on me, but with Callie’s company, it’s all begun to feel manageable. She makes me believe success is possible, not just with the assignment, but what comes after: bringing Zoe home and figuring out how to be a dad to my daughter. She makes me believe I can actually have my life back.
I’m slipping on clean socks when two voices reach my ears and I pause, cocking my head to listen. I don’t remember hearing anyone come in after us, but with the noises we were making, I could’ve easily missed it. In fact, I’m pretty sure I threw the deadbolt the second we were inside, right before pushing Callie against the wall.
Stepping lightly in my stocking feet, I ease to the open doorway and listen, then curse under my breath. Katherine Longo’s voice is a harsh mirror to her daughter’s, so similar but with an edge of maturity and command that makes Callie’s normally authoritative tones seem soft by comparison. They’re arguing, and I wince when I hear my name.
“Mom, Mason and I met long before he even knew you existed. He isn’t with me because of you. You have no idea what he’s been through. What he’s going through.”
“Callie,” the senator begins in an exasperated tone, “you don’t know everything. Very dangerous people want him dead. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“What about him? Do you even give a shit whether he gets hurt? You have the power to help him, so help him. Do what you should’ve fucking done for Chris.”
I hear an intake of breath that I imagine came from the senator, but nothing follows besides the fridge opening and closing, followed by the clink of pottery. I’m loath to interrupt the mother-daughter stand-off, but since I’m the topic of conversation, I decide it’s justified.
I pad down the stairs, but don’t see them until I round the landing and can set eyes on the kitchen island. They’re positioned at opposite ends of the long stretch of gray granite counter, staring daggers at each other so hard they don’t seem to register my presence. The senator’s knuckles are white where she grips her earthenware mug, and from
