The Suite Spot (Beck Sisters #2)(51)

“Thanks, and yeah, the left is mine.”

“This is a little weird.” Mason turns down the bedding on the right side. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept with anyone I wasn’t married to.”

“Look at it this way,” I say, slipping under the covers. “You won’t wake up with anything to regret.”

One corner of his mouth kicks up in a grin as he gets into bed beside me. “I mean, I might regret not making you come.”

His words do absolutely nothing to kill the aching need between my thighs and my face flushes with heat, but I’ve gone so long without sex that a little longer won’t kill me.

I hope.

He lifts his arm so I can settle against his chest. I haven’t done this with anyone in a long time either. His skin is warm and comforting against mine.

“Any rules I need to know?” Mason asks.

“Spooning is welcome. Touching me under my pajamas without consent is not.”

“Noted,” he says. “And same.”

I stretch my arm across his waist, snuggling in a little deeper. “Perfect.”

“Can I kiss you good night?” He reaches up and turns off the light.

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

His mouth finds mine in the dark. The kiss is brief because neither of us can keep from smiling. He touches his lips to my forehead. “Night, Rachel.”

“Sweet dreams.”

I shift onto my side and Mason curls up behind me, his arm pulling me close. His mouth is beside my ear as he whispers, “They won’t be nearly as sweet as this.”





CHAPTER 18



Meraki

Greek

“when you pour yourself so wholeheartedly into doing something with soul, creativity, or love that you leave a piece of yourself in your work”



I thought waking up in bed with Mason might be awkward, but no … it’s every bit as glorious as I imagined. In sleep, his face is relaxed and beautiful, and it makes me want to figure out how to keep it that soft in the waking hours. I don’t want to disturb him, and it feels creepy to watch him sleep, so I turn over and doze off.

The next time I wake, it’s when my phone dings with a text message from Keith, the construction worker. I’m ready to start on the cabin. Where are you?

“Oh shit. It’s after eight.” I throw off the covers and scramble out of bed, my brain foggy and unable to figure out what I should do first. “I’m late.”

Mason’s laugh is deep and husky from sleep. “Call in sick. I’m sure your boss won’t mind.”

“I need to get started on the cabin and prepare for book club tonight,” I say, rummaging through my dresser drawer for a clean pair of shorts. “And … God, I have to get Maisie to Avery’s house.”

“Rachel, relax.” He gets out of bed. “You go do the cabin; I’ll run Maisie uptown and do as much prep work as I can for book club.”

“Oh no! What am I going to do about Maisie tonight? I completely forgot that Avery will be here with me at book club.” My anxiety ramps up. “Maybe she—”

“Take a breath.”

I pause and inhale deeply.

“Daniel and I will handle it,” he says.

“I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“I’m offering,” he says. “Let me help you.”

“Okay. I’ll go get Maisie dressed, and maybe she can eat a Pop-Tart or—”

“Rachel. Stop.” Mason takes me by the shoulders and ducks his head until we’re eye to eye. “Trust me. I’ve done this before.”

“You’re right. Thank you.”

He gives me a fast kiss. “Go.”

I dress quickly as he leaves my bedroom. Wash and moisturize my face. Brush my teeth. I go to Maisie’s room, where I find her putting socks on Yōkai’s paws.

“We have to move fast today because I woke up late,” I say, praying this won’t be one of Maisie’s stubborn days. “Let’s get dressed.”

Five minutes later, we tramp down the back steps—with a now sockless Yōkai—and into the kitchen, where Mason has made us egg-and-toast sandwiches, neatly wrapped in paper towels. There is no tea and I wonder how he feels about that.

“Do you want to ride to Leo’s house in the truck today?” he asks Maisie.

“In the back?”

He laughs. “No, ma’am, but I’ll carry you on my back to the truck.”

Maisie scrambles up on one of the kitchen stools and launches herself onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. He grabs the egg sandwich, takes the keys for the truck from their hook by the door, and winks at me. “I’ll see you later.”

When they’re gone, I slip on my shoes and head out to the cabin, where Keith is waiting. He’s an older man with graying hair and work-worn hands.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” I say. “Thank you for the wake-up text.”

“Where do you want to start?”

“Let’s get all the furniture in place first, then I’ll know where the artwork should go,” I say. “Once that’s done, I can do all the fluffy stuff myself.”

I finish my breakfast sandwich on the way to the storage pod, where I have everything arranged by cabin. We make several trips, carrying furniture, artwork, lamps, rolled-up rugs, and boxes of textiles. Keith is patient as I consider and reconsider the placement of the sleeper sofa, coffee table, and chair, creating a small seating area within the larger space. Finally I’m satisfied. We break for lunch, and when we return, he mounts the curtain rods and installs one of the crystal chandeliers. We hang the dancing bears print above the bed and crisscross the badminton racquets over the sleeper sofa. I took Lucy’s advice and bought a vintage-look Parcheesi board from an Etsy shop, which Keith mounts to the wall in the kitchenette. Once all the drill dust has been swept, I send him back to his regular job and do the rest myself—making up the bed, arranging throw pillows, stocking the kitchen drawers with utensils and appliances, hanging the curtains, and supplying towels and toiletries to the bathroom. When I finish, I head to the taproom to see how Mason is coming along with book club prep.