Charmed: A Prescott Novel (The Prescott Series Book 3) Page 13

  Her eyes widened when she saw the box in my hand.

  “This is for you.”

  “You bought me a gift? Why?”

  I handed her the box. “Because I wanted to.”

  “Thank you, Mason. I’m sure I’ll love it.” She placed it on the table and pulled the pink ribbon before sliding the cover off.

  All I could do was focus on her fingers as she lifted the top from the box. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest in hopes she’d like it.

  Gretchen pulled the black leather jacket out and slid it on. It formed to her body perfectly. She zipped it, and it accentuated her flawless body.

  “I love it. Thank you so much.” Her eyebrows lowered. “But why did you get me a leather jacket? It’s not that cold out.”

  “You’ll see. Come on.” Taking her hand in mine, I guided her outside.

  As soon as she saw surprise number two, she gasped. “You have a motorcycle?”

  My bike wasn’t very quiet. I was shocked she didn’t hear me roll up on it. I’d been keeping it in the garage at my apartment complex, and had been given clearance by the LAFD to retrieve it.

  She trailed her finger along the leather seat. “It’s beautiful, Mason.”

  Pride swelled in my chest. This bike meant a lot to me. It had kept me company when I was finding my way in a new state.

  “Thank you. I bought it when I first moved here. It needed work when I first bought it, but that was the fun part.”

  I walked around and picked up her second surprise. A pink helmet with Princess written in script on the side. When I held it up, she laughed.

  “You bought me a helmet too?”

  “Got to protect that beautiful head of yours.”

  CHAPTER 17

  ~ Gretchen ~

  “Thank you, Mason. You didn’t have to go to all of this trouble.”

  The way he smiled made my heart flutter. Yes, Mason McDermott was one of the good guys, one that I could easily fall for. Once I was all suited up, Mason slid on his black helmet.

  Watching Mason straddle the bike was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. His leather jacket cinched at his waist, making his shoulders look even broader. He held out his hand, which I gladly took.

  “Swing your leg over and hold me around my waist. Don’t let go, lean when I do, and have fun.” He shot me a quick smile before revving the bike.

  Holy shit, this was amazing. The way I held him close, and my thighs touched his as the powerful machine vibrated between my legs, it made me sad we hadn’t ridden this bike before.

  We definitely had an uncanny connection. Yes, of course, we were friends, but it seemed like more than that. My heart raced faster when he was in the same room, my mind was content when we were near each other, and my libido spiked anytime our skin touched.

  My lady parts ached for Mason, but my brain was my vagina blocker. A woman would have to be dead and buried not to get turned on by his touch, but damn, Scott had screwed me up more than I’d realized. Not understanding how someone could drop so quickly the person they’d been with for three years had messed with my head.

  Mason rounded corners smoothly, but when we merged onto the highway, my nerves kicked up a notch. The faster we went, the tighter my grip became. I was confident I’d crack a rib or two of his by the time we reached our destination.

  Apparently, driving between vehicles was allowed in California, because several bikers were doing it. Loud rumbling caught my attention as I looked to my left and saw what I’d like to refer to as a biker gang. All I could picture was Sons of Anarchy. When one of them caught me gawking, he nodded and flashed me a smile. Definitely not Charlie Hunnam, unless he’d lost a few teeth since the last show aired. Clearing my thoughts of hot biker dudes from fictional TV shows, I concentrated on the hot biker my arms were wrapped around.

  We exited, and Mason began to slow down right before he kicked it up a notch. Not realizing I’d closed my eyes, imagine my surprise when I opened them and we were on Hollywood Boulevard. Yes, what I knew as Mann’s Chinese Theatre was right in front of us.

  Mason righted the bike and helped me off before dismounting it himself. Excitement ran through my veins when I realized why he’d stopped here. Marilyn’s handprints.

  I squealed and handed him my helmet to rush to one of my dream items.

  “Look, Mason. They fit.” I was on my knees, my hands where Marilyn had left her imprints. “Take a picture. I need to tweet this one and put it on Instagram.”

  Other pedestrians and tourists walked by me. Some stopped, probably waiting to do what I was, but they could wait. There was no way in hell I wasn’t getting this picture.

  Mason grabbed his phone out of his pocket. “Smile.” He held up the phone.

  “Wait,” I said, and he lowered the phone. “Is my hair messed up? Do I have helmet head?”

  He laughed, not answering my question at all. “You’re gorgeous. Now, smile.”

  We walked for blocks, putting our hands in various indentations. Mason put his in James Dean’s, but Mason’s were bigger. The same thing happened with Johnny Depp’s, although I had to try that too. I mean, come on. Johnny Depp had his hands there.

  “Looks like you have pretty big hands.” I winked, and Mason just shook his head.

  “You know what that means, right? Big hands, big—”

  “Gloves?” I laughed, and he shook his head.

  He texted me the pictures so I could post them, but not before I took a selfie of us. Then I uploaded the pictures complete with the appropriate hashtags:

  #hwood

  #marilyn

  #meandmason

  #bighandsbiggloves

  #jdeppishot

  #omg

  #ILoveLA

  * * *

  “That was absolutely fantastic.” I walked in the house carrying bags of tourist trinkets and, of course, my helmet. We never made it to the restaurant where Mason had a reservation, but we did grab a quick burger at In-N-Out before heading home.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  Mason set his helmet on the counter while mine was still in my hands. Not wanting to set it down yet, I looked at the way Princess was airbrushed on it. Realization hit that he had put more thought into this gift than Scott had on that stupid pen he gave me.

  My eyes welled with tears. How could I have been so dumb? Yes, they say love is blind, but why had I stayed with a man who apparently had been looking for a way out? Was it because I’d been so engrossed in not wanting to admit I’d made a mistake with him, or because I’d wanted to prove my family and friends wrong?

  All the joy I’d felt came crashing down on me. A single tear rolled down my cheek as I finally released the packages and set them on the kitchen island. Still holding the helmet, I sat on the sofa.

  “Gretch? What’s the matter?” In an instant, Mason was by my side. His hand went on top of mine.

  I shrugged. Letting out a breath to calm my thoughts, I turned to him. Another tear slid down my cheek, and I quickly whisked it away.

  “Is it me?” I asked.

  His brows lowered. “Is what you? I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. Care to clue me in?”

  Our fingers were now laced together, making me feel a bit confused.

  “How did I miss it? How was I the only one who didn’t see it? How did I fall for a man who I thought loved me and clearly didn’t? Why didn’t I listen to everyone?”

  The muscles around my mouth tightened and my chin quivered. Not wanting to burst into a full-blown meltdown, I swallowed hard, trying to find my bearings. My chest heaved as I tried to keep my emotions under control. I hadn’t actually cried over Scott or the fact that he had broken up with me.

  Mason took the helmet from my hands, set it on the coffee table in front of us, and pulled me into his arms. With my head on his chest, his heartbeat pulsed against my cheek. I felt his lips in my hair, which I was sure was matted to my head. His hands rubbed my back, and the smell of h
is leather jacket plus his natural scent did heady things to me.

  “It isn’t you. You’re a beautiful woman inside and out. Any man would be lucky to call you his.”

  Not wanting to use his shirt as a tissue, I leaned back and looked at him. His face was serene, honest. We both leaned in, and I licked my lips in anticipation. When I opened them, Mason pulled back, and the lack of our connection was missed in an instant. All I wanted was to be in his arms, to have him hold me the way a man should. But apparently he didn’t want that.

  Mortification mixed with embarrassment hit me like a lightning bolt to the chest. Another man who didn’t want me. He’d just said any man would be lucky to have me, but it was evident he didn’t want to be that man. We were friends—that’s all. Friends.

  “I’m sorry, Mason. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. We’re friends, and that wasn’t fair of me.” As quickly as I could I stood, picked up my helmet and began to gather my things. “Thank you for tonight. I’m sorry if I ruined it by turning into a girl.”

  I let out an insincere laugh while he stared at me with sad eyes. Great. Now I’d made him feel bad.

  “Tonight was one of the best nights I’ve ever had, and I’ll never forget it.”

  Before I knew it I was in my room, leaving Mason downstairs. As soon as my door closed, I let out the sob I’d been trying to contain. I stripped out of my clothes, threw on a tank top, and climbed into bed.

  With one pillow supporting my head and another scrunched up between my arms as if it were a body to hug, I stared into space. Pictures on the walls were blurred by my tears.

  I needed to pull myself together. It wasn’t like me to get this upset, especially after spending time with a wonderful man who just wanted to help me check off some of the things on my list.

  Right as I was closing my eyes, I heard a soft knock on my door. There was only one person it could be. Thankfully, my tears had stopped.

  I sat up and pulled the duvet cover over my hips since I was just wearing a pair of boy shorts and a tank top. “Come in.”

  Mason slowly opened the door and peeked in. “Can we talk?”

  “Yes.”

  He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up in a messy bed-head sort of way. On most people it would look horrible, but on him, it was anything but. His expression serious, he sat on the foot of the bed.

  Before he could speak, I said, “But let me first apologize for ruining our night. I know all you wanted was to make me happy, which you did. You have no idea how much tonight meant to me.”

  A genuine smile appeared on his face. “First, you didn’t ruin anything. Second, if anyone should feel bad, it should be me.”

  My forehead crinkled as I narrowed my eyes. “You have nothing to feel bad about. You made a couple of my dreams come true tonight. Not to mention the motorcycle, which was an added bonus. There’s something about a man on a Harley.” I glanced over at my helmet and pointed. “And that, that was the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.”

  “I don’t know about that, but there was no way I wasn’t protecting you.”

  “No, it was.”

  I slid over to the side, giving him the opening to sit next to me, which he did. I was under the covers and he was on top of them. He put his arm around me just as he did on the couch, and gentleness shone brightly in his hazel eyes.

  “Do you realize how long I’ve wanted to be with you?” he asked, and my pulse quickened. “Don’t answer that, because I’m going to tell you.” Once again, our fingers were intertwined. “When Drake asked me to go to the baseball game last year, I knew it was for Lucy. For him to let her know that he cared enough to have her best friend there. But as soon as I saw you, I knew.”

  “You knew? Knew what?” I worried my bottom lip with my teeth.

  “That you were the reason I was there. He may not have known it. Hell, he’d probably kick my ass if he knew the thoughts that ran through my head when you smiled at me. Shit, all of your brothers would have my head on a platter if they knew. Lucy was the one who picked up on it, because I can’t hide anything from her.”

  He placed his hand on my face, palming my cheek, and I leaned into it, cherishing the warmth.

  “Mason, why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Why? That’s easy. You had a boyfriend. There’s no way I’d put you in that predicament. It wouldn’t be fair, plus I thought you were happy with him. Then I remembered the way your face lit up when Drake bought you cotton candy, and all I could think of was I wanted to be the one to do that. Tonight, I almost felt that way. I was the spun sugar that made you smile. Well, me and Marilyn Monroe.”

  He laughed and added, “Seeing you happy was all I ever wanted. We’re friends, and if you want to cry on my shoulder, then do it. I’ll always be your friend and will be here for you, even when we’re three thousand miles apart. I’d be more than happy to ring in every New Year’s with you, if that’s what you wanted.”

  His long legs stretched out as we both leaned against the headboard and looked at each other.

  “Here’s the thing.” I fiddled with the edge of the sheet. “You mean a lot to me, Mason.” He went to speak, but I held out my finger. “Being with you does make me happy. In fact, I didn’t realize how unhappy I was until I began to spend time with you. Tonight, it just hit me in a way I wasn’t prepared for. And yes, that helmet. You didn’t just buy me protective gear; you had it custom designed for me.” Thankful that my tears had dried, I said, “I just never knew what I was missing. All I do know is you make each day better. So, thank you for letting me slobber all over you.” I blew out a long, exasperated breath. “We’re friends, right?”

  “Isn’t that what you want?”

  His tone insinuated that this was all on me, and I supposed it was, although there were so many times I’d wished we were more. Wished I could let myself go, open my heart again, and maybe find love.

  But the timing was off; our timing was off. Pros and cons quickly filled my head as I weighed what I wanted to say. God forbid I should make him feel bad, but he asked if I wanted to be friends with him, and there was only one answer to that.

  “You’re becoming one of my best friends,” I said. “So, of course.”

  More thoughts on what could be played in my mind. Better to put them to rest. A tug-of-war between my brain and heart commenced, leaving me confused. Part of me wanted him to disagree, and the other part, my sensible side, nodded her head.

  “Then friends it is.” He kissed the top of my head, gave me a quick hug, and stood to leave. Before he walked through the door, he looked back at me. “Sweet dreams, princess.”

  “Sweet dreams, surfer boy.” I finally let out a genuine laugh.

  “Man. Surfer man.” Mason shook his head, smiled, and closed the door behind him.

  Yes, he was definitely becoming my best friend.

  CHAPTER 18

  ~ Mason ~

  Today was the day we were starting on our trip. I’d called Lucy to let her know we’d be away, and asked her to let Drake know. Naturally, Lucy was all giggles and made me promise to tell her what happened between Gretchen and me, but when I told her Gretchen and I were just friends, she informed me she’d just call Gretchen herself to get any and all scoop.

  Drake, on the other hand, gave me a rundown of what to do and not to do.

  Mainly, what not to do. “Don’t hurt my sister, don’t drive too fast, don’t leave doors unlocked, don’t leave Gretchen alone in a strange place.”

  The last one was a given. I’d never leave her.

  What plagued me was the fact she’d be the one leaving as soon as her vacation was over. Not knowing when that would be screwed with my head, but I wasn’t going to worry about that right now. This was our time to have fun, and that’s what I intended to do.

  Gretchen looked as if she was skipping as she made her way down the stairs. “I’m so excited!”

  All the angst over what had transpired between us was go
ne. Thank God.

  She continued bouncing through the house, ending up in the kitchen. After she had grabbed about six bottles of water out of the fridge, she spun around to me.

  “What else?” Her gaze went to the ceiling. “Oh, I know.”

  Before I knew it, she was gone. All I could do was shake my head. Gretchen had turned into the Tasmanian devil. I was sure she could burrow a hole in the floor at the rate she was going.

  She ran back in and held up a bag of Sour Patch Kids. “I had these in my room.”

  “You keep candy in your room?” I walked to my duffel bag and zipped it shut after tucking a pair of hiking boots inside.

  “No. I mean, well, just these. If I keep them down here, I’ll eat the entire bag.”

  That made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but I just gave in. If there was one thing that did make sense was Gretchen didn’t need any sugar to hype her up any more than she already was. Even though she was acting like a crazy person, she made me smile. Better crazy than sad.

  “What do you say, surfer man? Are you ready to hit the road?” She started singing, “Hit the road, Jack, and don’t you come back—” Then she stopped abruptly and looked at me. “I’ll call Jack and the gang from the road.”

  “You do know that song is not about a road trip, right?”

  She stared at me like a deer in the headlights, so I just continued where she had left off. “I already talked to Drake and Lucy. If you talk to your other brothers, let them know their oldest one already lectured me on how to keep you safe.”

  Gretchen waved her hand in the air, completely dismissing what I’d just said. “Safe, schmafe. I want to have fun. Safe is for pussies.”

  My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. “Have you been drinking?”

  “Nope, not yet. I did have a Red Bull, but that doesn’t affect me too much. Are you ready?”

  Yeah, right. Doesn’t affect her.

  “Yes, let’s go.” Before she could grab the keys, I snatched them off the hook on the wall. “I’ll be driving, princess.”