When You're Back (Rosemary Beach #12)(9)

His hand rested on my lower back as he directed me toward the crowd. People stood around in groups, champagne glasses in their hands, as they talked among themselves. Diamonds glittered on the women’s hands, wrists, ears, and necks. Had Mase never been to one of these “barbecues” before? I figured he’d come to many of them. Why had he said Aida was over-dressed?

“Mase Colt,” a tall, broad-shouldered man with graying hair at his temples called out in a deep voice as we stepped into the light. “It’s good to see you. I wasn’t here for the last exchange. Hawkins said everything went smoothly, as always.”

“Yes, sir. Dad was pleased¸” Mase replied.

This was the second time he’d been referred to as Colt, not Colt Manning, tonight. I’d never heard him drop his last name before.

The man’s attention moved to me, and for a moment, I wanted to run and hide under a table. “And I see you’ve brought a beautiful woman.”

Mase’s hand remained on my back. “Yes, sir. This is Reese Ellis. Reese, this is Arthur Stout, a business partner of ours and the host of this ‘modest’ barbecue.”

Arthur chuckled. “That’s actually my wife’s fault. She can’t do anything small. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Reese. About time Mase had a woman on his arm. Every good man needs a good woman at his side. Been trying to tell Hawkins that for years, but he doesn’t listen.”

“When he meets her, you won’t have to tell him anything. It’ll just happen,” Mase said, making my heart thud and my chest feel warm.

Arthur Stout grinned and nodded his head. “Reckon that’s so. God knows that’s how it was with his momma. God rest her soul, she took a part of me when she left this world.”

“Arthur, honey, you must meet Chantel. She’s from the club. I was just telling you about our lovely tea the other day,” said a woman who looked only a few years older than me. The diamond on her hand caught the light and twinkled.

“Coming, darling,” he replied. “I must go. You two enjoy yourselves.”

I watched him go, then looked up at Mase, a little confused.

“Piper is his second wife. His first wife passed away ten years ago from cancer. He married Piper four years ago,” Mase said, understanding my confusion.

“But she looks so young,” I whispered, watching the woman cling to the arm of a man who had to be in his sixties.

“She was twenty-two when he married her. His son, Hawkins, is a year older than her.”

Ew.

Mase looked at my face and chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get a drink. Stout started his own brewery about seven years ago. He has some ciders you might like; I know you’re not a fan of beer.”

I walked with him toward the extravagant bar.

“There you are! I saw Aida earlier, and she said you were here. I wondered if you dropped her off and then went to hide.”

Mase stopped and turned his head toward the voice, just as I did. An attractive guy with short blond hair and pale blue eyes was walking toward us.

“Aida didn’t tell me you brought a date,” the man said as he stopped in front of us, looking at me with a pleased smile.

“Hawkins,” Mase replied, with a harder tone than he’d used with Hawkins’s father.

Hawkins grinned even bigger and finally looked at Mase. “Please tell me she’s another cousin,” he said.

Mase’s hand slid around my back, now gripping me at my hip as he pulled me toward him. “No. She’s mine.”

Hawkins kept smiling.

“Reese, this is Hawkins Stout. Hawkins, this is Reese Ellis,” Mase said, sounding annoyed.

Hawkins held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Reese Ellis,” he said.

I slipped my hand into his, wondering if we were going to shake, but he lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss there. I froze. I wasn’t expecting that.

Mase cleared his throat, and Hawkins’s gaze left me to look at Mase with amusement. “Easy. I understand,” he said with a smirk, then took a step back. “Enjoy your evening. We have several new brews you would enjoy.”

“Headed to the bar now,” Mase replied.

Hawkins gave me one last smile before excusing himself to greet other guests.

I started to say something but decided against it. Mase didn’t say anything, so I took his lead and walked toward the bar.

He ordered a beer, and I decided on the blueberry cider after trying a sample. Once we had our drinks, we turned to see Aida coming directly for us . . . or for Mase. She looked upset. Really upset.

“I need you,” she choked out.

“What’s wrong?” he asked

She looked pointedly at me and then back at him, pleadingly. “I can’t talk about it here. Please,” she begged.

Mase nodded. “OK, where do you want to go?”

“Somewhere we can be alone. I just . . . I can’t.” She covered her mouth and squeezed her eyes together dramatically. I wasn’t sure if I believed something was wrong.

Mase nodded toward the house. “Let’s go inside.”

She nodded, and then Mase’s hand was at my back, guiding me forward. I knew this wasn’t Aida’s idea of “alone.” I had started to say something when she saw I was following along.