The Suite Spot (Beck Sisters #2)(53)

Avery snickers. “I don’t think any of them would complain about him being at book club every month, especially Gail.”



* * *



Mason and Daniel emerge from the trees not long after Courtney’s golf cart turns out of the driveway. Each man is leading a small child by the hand. Maisie is cuddling Fred against her neck, which means she’s exhausted beyond measure, but Leo is practically vibrating with energy, a peanut butter jar of fireflies clutched in his hand.

“We … messed up,” Daniel confesses. “Leo is high on s’mores and Maisie is amps-to-eleven cranky.”

Maisie breaks away from Mason and runs to me. First she hugs my legs as if we’ve been apart for days, then begins to pummel my thighs with frustrated little fists. “I want to go home.”

I pick her up. “You are home, baby.”

“No. I want to go to our other house, where Oma lives.”

“She has a new house, remember? We helped her move there. This is where we live now.”

Maisie rubs her nose against my shoulder. “I don’t like it.”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Mason looks stricken. Like he did something wrong.

“This is normal for her,” I say. “Don’t take it personally. You did great.”

“We’ve got cleanup,” Avery tells me. “Get her to bed.”

True to form, Maisie falls asleep in my arms on the way to the house. I don’t bother undressing her or putting her in pajamas. I take off her sneakers and tuck her into bed. Yōkai leaps onto the bed and settles against Maisie’s back.

“Thanks,” I whisper to the cat, who responds with a baleful glare.

I return to the brewhouse, where Mason has dismantled the projector and screen, and Avery has collected the blankets to keep them from getting damp with dew. Daniel is washing the dirty glasses in the taproom while Leo runs in circles singing “ashes, ashes, we all fall down” before collapsing onto the floor.

“Chocolate after bedtime was not my best-ever plan,” Daniel says. “But on the bright side, he’ll probably sleep late.”

I pour the dregs of the wine bottles down the drain. “Today was a long day, and even best friends need to take a break sometimes. I’ll keep Maisie home tomorrow.”

Mason and Avery come in from outside, and the four of us finish cleaning up the taproom. Avery scoops up Leo mid-spin. “Time to calm down, little man. We’re going home.”

After thanking them and saying good night, Mason and I are alone in the taproom.

“Hi,” he says, catching my hand and reeling me in.

I smile, my heart taking flight. “Hi.”

He takes my face in his hands and when he kisses me, it feels like a relief. Finally. I slip my arms up around his neck and his arms encircle my waist, pulling me closer. His tongue dips into my mouth and we kiss for ages.

“Oh God.” We’re interrupted by a voice. Avery’s voice. “I’m so sorry. I forgot my purse.”

It’s too late to pretend like we weren’t making out, so Mason holds me in his arms as she scurries across the room to where her small suede bag is lying on the couch, and back to the door.

“I didn’t see a thing,” she says, throwing an excited fist in the air. “But I knew it! I love you both. Bye.”

Mason touches his forehead to mine when she’s gone, laughing a little. “We are never going to hear the end of this.”

“I know.”

“But we were never going to be able to keep it a secret,” he says. “When I’m with you, I remember what it feels like to be happy, and anyone with eyes is bound to notice.”

“You are so good for my ego.”

“Glad to hear it.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Your ego deserves it.”

“We should go in the house.”

He releases me from the circle of his arms and takes my hand. “That was subtext … right?”

“If you want it to be.”

Mason grins. “I definitely do.”

We pause to lock the brewhouse, then walk to the house. Thin, wispy clouds sail through the mostly clear sky. Stars are everywhere. And the air has just a kiss of breeze.

“Have you ever done it outside?”

“Done what?” he asks, despite shooting me a grin that tells me he knows exactly what I mean. “Fishing? Baseball? Mowing the lawn?”

I elbow him in the side, laughing. “Jerk. You know I’m talking about sex.”

“I have never had outdoor sex,” he says. “Have you?”

“No.”

“Wanna try?”

“Yes.”

“Wait right here.” Mason sprints back to the brewhouse and returns with one of the red polar fleece blankets, then leads me to a small hollow at the back of the house between two overgrown lilac bushes. This time of night there’s no chance anyone will see us, but I appreciate the tiny nod to privacy.

“If we didn’t need to stay close to Maisie,” he says, spreading the blanket on the grass, “I’d take you deep into the woods and do unspeakable things to you.”

I kick off my sandals and lie down. “Ooh, like what?”