jeans and an I ♥ New York T-shirt she’d received for running a 5K race. After pulling her hair up in a ponytail, she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Man oh man, she thought, glancing in the mirror. There was no denying she looked like a schoolgirl again. It was amazing how a little makeup and a sleek hairstyle could transform her appearance. But inside, she was still that unsure, guarded little girl.
At least it wasn’t horrible living here, and her father was making a gold-star effort on her behalf. She was trying like hell to keep an open mind, trying to put the past behind her, but her scars ran deep and it wasn’t easy to forgive and forget all she’d gone through here in Boone Springs. Not a day went by that she didn’t think about the baby she’d lost, about the child she would never know. It wasn’t Mason’s baby, yet she’d blamed him for rejecting her, destroying her confidence and causing her to run into the arms of the first man who’d showed interest in her.
A knock at her bedroom door shook her out of her thoughts. “Drea, can I speak to you?”
She opened the door and glanced at her father. Beyond him, down the hall, she saw four men standing in the parlor. What were Mason and Risk Boone doing here? The ranch foreman, Joe Buckley, and Dwayne, one of the crew, were also there. “Sure. What’s going on?”
Her father shook his head, his expression contrite. “I forgot about the poker game. We, uh, the boys usually come here on Tuesday nights. I’m sorry, Drea. I guess I’ve been so wrapped up in you being home, it slipped my mind. Should I send them away?”
“No, Dad. Of course not. I don’t want my being here disrupting your routine.” The irony was that as a kid, she’d always felt like a disruption in his life. She got in the way of his drinking.
“They brought dinner. Pizza from Villa Antonio. Will you come out and eat with us?”
What could she say? She liked Joe; he’d always been decent to her, and Dwayne was her age. They’d gone to school together. She didn’t like breaking bread with the Boones, but she was hungry and she couldn’t hide out in her room all night. “I suppose I can do that.”
She walked into the parlor with her father and the men took off their hats. Everyone said hello but Mason. Hat in hand, he gave her a long stare and nodded.
“You still breaking hearts in New York, Drea?” Risk asked, his wide smile almost infectious. Risk was a charmer and she’d always been a little wary of him. He was too smooth for her liking.
“I don’t know about that, but I like to think I’m killing it in other ways.”
“I bet you are.”
“Good to see you, Drea. You’re looking well,” Joe said. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, it has,” she said. “How’s Mary Lou?”
“Doing fine.”
“Please tell her hello for me.”
“Will do,” he said, smiling.
“Hey, Drea,” Dwayne said. “Missed you at the ten-year reunion.”
“I know. I just couldn’t get away, but Katie caught me up to speed on everyone. Congrats, I heard you just had a baby.”
“We did. Heather and I named him Benjamin, after my father.” He took out his phone and showed her a picture of his son.
“He’s precious.”
“We think so, too. Thanks.”
“So you and Mason are gonna work together on the fund-raiser.” Risk shifted his glance from her to his brother, a twinkle in his eye. Was he trying to cause trouble, or just being Risk? She didn’t know how much his family knew about her history with Mason. True, it was old news. But not for her.
“That’s the plan,” Mason said, eyeballing her. “After the game tonight, I’d like to talk to you about it.”
“We don’t usually finish up too late,” her father interjected. “It’s a workday for everyone tomorrow.”
“Okay, fine.” She’d just have to put on her big girl panties. She couldn’t postpone it any longer. She’d gotten herself into this and she had a job to do.
Mason gave her a nod and they all sat down at the dining room table. As she chewed her pizza and drank iced tea, every so often she’d steal a glance Mason’s way, and each time, his coal-black eyes were on her, as if she was the only person in the room. He made her jumpy. She didn’t like it one bit, and she fought the feeling.
But there’d always been something between her and Mason. Well, maybe it was all one-sided. At age seventeen her feelings had started out as hero worship for a guy six years older than her and had grown from there. Until he’d shot her down and humiliated her.
After dinner, the men got serious about poker, and Drea busied herself cleaning the kitchen, collecting and trashing pizza boxes and setting the coffeemaker timer to brew a dark rich roast in two hours. The guys had brought beer, something Drea knew her father had insisted upon. He wasn’t going to spoil their night because he had a drinking problem. A tall glass of iced tea sat in front of her dad and he seemed fine with it.
Three years clean and sober.
God, she hoped the worst was behind him now. But there was always doubt in her mind, and maybe her father was trying to make a point by showing her he was a changed man.
During the game, she disappeared into her room and flipped open her laptop. She stared at the screensaver, a golden Hawaiian sunrise, wishing she could jump right into the picture.
But no, that wasn’t going to ever happen. Was that kind of serenity even real?
She clicked open her spreadsheet and calendar and got busy working on items for the fund-raiser. There were dozens of moving parts for the big push and she was beginning to make headway.
After twenty minutes or so, she was totally engrossed in her work. A knock at her door broke her concentration and she jumped.
It wasn’t her father’s light rapping. No, she knew who it was. Ugh. She got up and yanked open the door, ready to face Mason.
Immediately the woodsy scent of his cologne wafted to her as she looked into his dark eyes. It was hard to miss the broad expanse of his chest as he braced his arms against her doorjamb, making her feel slightly trapped. “Hi,” he said.
She’d expected him to be demanding, to insist they get to work, to pressure her. But that one word, spoken softly, surprised her and her defenses went up. “Mason.”
“I, uh, I know it’s late, but we should probably talk. If that’s okay with you?”
It wasn’t late. It was barely nine thirty. On really busy days, she’d often work until midnight. But things in Boone Springs were different than the big city. The pace was slower, the nights shorter, and the mornings came earlier. “It’s fine.”
“It’s a nice night. Why don’t you grab a jacket and meet me out back?”
She blinked. She didn’t want to be alone with Mason on a moonlit night, but she wasn’t about to
