AllFreeNovel
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As Mason and I stand here, maybe closer than we’ve ever been, my attraction dials up to danger zone levels. It’s all I can do not to wrap my arms around his waist and attach myself to him like a bumper sticker.
His cologne, like something produced in a woodsy lumberjack pheromone factory, invades my senses. I do my best to hide the deep inhale I take.
Meanwhile, I muststillcarry the stench of skunk, because I see Mason’s nose twitch.
Stupid skunks! Not cute. Not cute at all. You suck, skunks!
I back up half a step. “Istillsmell?”
“It’s better,” Mason hedges, then tilts his head, inhaling deeply. His forehead creases. “Now you smell a little like … garlic?”
After dinner with Mary, I raided John’s pantry even though Google said tomatoes probably won’t counteract skunk spray. A deep dive down a Reddit hole and I found a few people who swore it worked on their dogs when they got sprayed. Good enough for me!
The only issue was that John didn’t have any plain canned tomato sauce. Which meant I ended up using Sweet Garlic Marinara.
Which means now I smell like skunk spaghetti in front of my dream guy.
“Were you about to knock on my door?” I ask hopefully, trying not to look too eager. Which I absolutely am.
“Yes.” Mason shifts, putting his hands in his pockets then taking them out again, like he can’t figure out what to do with them.
Is he … nervous?
He’s changed from his incredibly sexy work clothes—which consisted of khaki pants that barely contained his muscular thighs and a button-down shirt—to his incredibly sexy casual clothes—joggers and a fitted Henley. Even better than his work clothes.
But then, I don’t think Mason could wear anything that wouldn’t include the words “incredibly sexy” in front of it.
Mason wearing incredibly sexy overalls.
Mason wearing an incredibly sexy polyester suit.
Mason wearing an incredibly sexy potato sack.
When he shifts his weight again, my attention is drawn to his feet. I almost fall over in shock.
“You’re wearing the socks I gave you!”
A faint smile lights up his features. “I am.”
“You like them? I wasn’t sure. I mean, who gives socks as a gift?”
Mason glances down at his feet, size thirteen. I know because I looked inside his shoes once when he was having dinner at my mom’s. I’m always planning ahead.
“I like them,” he says.
These simple words shouldn’t fill me with so much pleasure, but they do.
“Good.” I grin, and Mason gives me a slow smile back. One that wraps around me like a heated blanket.
“Are you ready to decorate the tree?” he asks.
I laugh. “I thought you’d never ask. Literally—I didn’t. That’s why I ran into you. I couldn’t wait in here anymore.”
“Sorry,” he says, running a hand through his dark hair, leaving it sticking up in places.
I’d fix it, but that’s beyond my personal touch clearance. It’s a restricted area, and I don’t have a security badge. I also happen to like Mason looking ruffled.
Then again, the idea of touching his hair sounds—
