I sipped my coffee, loving the peace and quiet. The farm was in the perfect spot, not too far from Humptulips, but still removed enough to afford privacy.
The mountains loomed in the distance, the view breathtaking on a clear day like today. This was truly heaven on earth.
I wondered why Mason bought the farm. He didn’t strike me as a lavender farmer. And where did he get the money to buy it? It couldn’t have been cheap. There was a lot of land surrounding it, and the house and barn were massive. Even though the house still needed some work, it was solid, and the necessary improvements mostly cosmetic.
When my mug was empty, I put it in the dishwasher and turned it on. My next stop was the barn, where I played with the puppies and tried to get my sweatshirt back from the baby goat. My attempts were unsuccessful, and I lost a shoe when I went inside the stall. I gave up when the little demon tried to eat my hair.
Loki followed me around, his tail wagging, his tongue lolling. I made sure to tell him how gorgeous he was and petted him in between escaping the demon baby goat and playing with the puppies.
It was midmorning when I went back inside the house and started looking for a vacuum. After opening a few closets and a door that led to the basement, I found an old dusty vacuum in the storage space underneath the stairs. It still worked, and I went through the whole house—except the basement—which I would snoop around in later.
I had to empty the vacuum catchment out twice, and it was a pain to get the heavy old giant up the stairs one-handed, but I was determined and refused to sit around another day and do nothing. Especially not with Mason on my mind. Being idle wouldn’t lead to anything good. My arm was healing well, and I was ready to stop being a patient and instead start pulling my weight again.
After I took a late lunch break with Loki, I searched for a mop and bucket. I eventually found them in the laundry that was sitting just off the kitchen. The room was oversized and had a new washing machine and dryer, but it was also filled with at least a month’s worth of dirty clothes. I rolled my eyes, wondering how many clothes the man-child had that he didn’t have to do any laundry for so long.
So I added laundry to my to-do list and put on a load before I started mopping the floors. The house was dusty from the renovations, and I had to change the water three times. But once I was done, it smelled fresh and I hadn’t once thought about jumping Mason—or little Mason—as soon as he walked through the door.
Okay, that was a lie, maybe I thought about it once when I was waiting for the bucket to fill with water. And when I mopped the living room. And then again when I wiped down the kitchen. Okay fine, it was three times. But no more than that.
The washing was done, and I hung it up outside and put in another load. It was nearly dinnertime and getting dark, but Mason hadn’t turned up yet. I wondered if I should start on dinner. I was pretty good at making mac and cheese. Or I could order pizza.
I ended up doing neither, instead I turned on the TV and watched the news. It was past eight when the front door opened and Mason walked through. I was starving and cranky and nearly cried in relief when I spotted the takeout bags in his hand.
He was sorting through the mail when he walked in, then looked up when he heard me get up from the couch.
“Please tell me you’re going to share that food,” I said, my eyes on the bags. The smell told me it was Chinese and my mouth started watering.
“Grab some plates and a beer, and I might consider it,” he answered. I wasted no time and dashed to the kitchen.
He had barely put the brown bags down when I was in the living room, holding out his beer.
“Thanks,” he said and took it, giving me one of his smiles that made his whole face light up.
I stared at him, imagining what it would be like to run my tongue over the dimple in his chin. Thankfully the smell of the food pulled me back to reality. I got the containers out of the bags, all seven of them, and took the lids off. After I shoveled a mountain of food on my plate, I looked up at Mason, who was watching me with a smirk.
“Don’t judge me; you got most of my favorites,” I said.
I moaned when I took the first bite, savoring the sweet and sour flavor.
The sound made his eyes heat up. His attention made me swallow the half-chewed food in my mouth.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I looked back at my food, hoping he wasn’t expecting me to eat like a rabbit.
“I am. But I think I enjoy watching you more,” he said and filled his own plate.
We ate in silence while watching a game, and I managed to finish the whole plate.
“Are you missing a sweatshirt?” he asked after we’d both put our plates down and were watching the game. Well, he was watching, I was studying his profile, wondering if I should bring up what happened last night or just go to bed. I didn’t expect him to ask about my clothes. I’d already had a whole conversation about last night in my head, and I figured he would want to talk about it as much as I did. I was ready for the conversation but didn’t know how to bring it up.
“A sweatshirt? What? Why? I mean no,” I answered.
“I found one in the
