Game Plan (14 page)

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Authors: Karla Doyle

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Erotica, #General Fiction

BOOK: Game Plan
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“I don’t get why you’re so determined to have this conversation.” The shoes got her full attention as she re-laced them around her ankles instead of looking at him. “Your family will flip out when they find out there’s ten years between us. For the record, I thought you were
in
your thirties when I met you.”

“And now I am.”

Her head snapped up as her mouth fell open. “By a day!”

“Tomorrow it’ll be two days.”

“You’re impossible,” she said after laughing out loud. “I like spending time with you, a lot. If it were just you and me in private, our ages wouldn’t matter. Other people, though…most of them will look at us and see nothing more than a cougar playing with a hot, young vet.”

“Fuck most people.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather not.”

“Me either.” Best if he dealt with the age issue in bite-sized chunks. “Today isn’t about most people, it’s a get-together with a bunch of my family and friends. Do you think
your
friends and family will judge me because of my age?”

“It’s not the same, Mason.”

“Sure it is. They might think I’m taking advantage of you…given that you’re so old and feeble.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” A halfhearted punch landed on his chest and stayed there as she smiled up at him. “Jerk.”

That’s what he wanted—Andie, relaxed and happy. He took her hand after closing the truck. Gave it a squeeze as they moved around front. “Seemed to me the people at the party so far all thought you were great. My sister hadn’t shown yet when you attempted your escape. Katie’ll kill me if she doesn’t get to meet you.”

“I don’t know…” She was caving, it was in her eyes. In the softness of her voice.

Time to seal the deal. “Think of it as my birthday present, since you didn’t get me anything.”

“That is so unfair.”

“Yeah, but did it work?”

She sighed. Rolled her eyes. Looked fucking adorable. “This time.”

He held the driver’s door open and followed her into the truck. “I promise not to use it again next year.”

 

Chapter Eight

 

“We’ve been gone an hour. They’re going to ask questions.” Agreeing to come back to the party suddenly seemed like willingly walking the plank. “And I’m a mess. And my hairbrush and makeup are in my tote bag, out back on the deck.”

“I’m on it.” He pulled out his cell and whipped off a text.

Next thing Andie knew, a young woman slipped out the front door, closing it carefully behind her. “That’s your sister?”

“The one and only. Katie-Kat, the little brat.”

Maybe that had been the case in earlier years. By the affection in Mason’s voice and the grin on his face, he clearly liked her as much as he loved her. Andie could already see why. Watching Katie make her way covertly across the yard was entertainment in itself.

“She’s going to get caught simply because she’s trying so hard not to.”

“That’s Katie.”

The truck’s rear door opened and Katie bounced into the middle of the backseat. “Here you go.” She dropped Andie’s tote bag on the front seat. “I’m not going to introduce myself, that way it’ll be more authentic when we officially meet. And don’t worry, I’ve got you guys covered.” She leapt from the truck, checked for spies and sprinted to the house.

“Wow, she’s got a lot of energy.”

Mason pushed the fabric of Andie’s dress up to her hips and lightly stroked between her legs. “You do all right in that department, yourself.”

“Uh-uh. You are
not
starting something parked out on your parents’ lawn.”

He laughed when she pushed his hand away. “I bet your heart rate went up just from thinking about having an orgasm right here, right now, where anybody could see.” He leaned in so his lips brushed her ear. “I bet you’re so turned-on by the idea, if you relaxed against the headrest, I could make you come in less than a minute.”

A few choice words and her libido shot higher than tonight’s fireworks would. This, less than twenty minutes after they’d rocked the back of his truck. “I’m not taking that bet.”

“I bet if I pushed
my
seat back, you could make me come in less than a minute.”

“I’m not taking
that
bet, either.” She located her brush and lipstick, got to work on de-sexifying her appearance. “You’re a bad influence, Mason Lang.”

“Meaning you seriously considered my offers.” He followed with a sizzling kiss that stirred parts that should be resting up for later.

“Mints,” she said breathlessly, then dug the roll from her bag and popped one. “Don’t want to have dick breath while chatting up your family.” She waved the package. “Want one?”

“Nah, I don’t have dick breath.” A wink later, he was out of the truck, coming around to open her door. As he always did. He kept her hand after helping her down. Squeezed it and put his lips to her knuckles.

Sweet actions like that gave her a little fit of butterflies. The stunning roses he’d brought, the words that came with them. Making her breakfast. Holding her hand every chance he got. Not trying to control what she wore or how she acted…she’d sure misinterpreted his comments about her dress earlier. He’d let her bratty moment slide without question, but she really needed to get a handle on her baggage before she scared Mason off permanently—a prospect that made her stomach clench. Bit by bit he was worming his way into her heart. And that was dangerous, because he couldn’t stay there. In the end, there’d be a big hole.

“What did your sister mean by having us covered?”

“Go along with whatever she says. Katie’s good at managing things.”

Oh, sure. Agree with whatever a total stranger made up about her. No problem.

The house was empty when they went in the front door. A miracle, given the amount of noise coming from out back. Andie deposited her purse and tote bag by the door in case she needed to grab it and run again.

Mason shook his head. “I don’t think so, babe,” he said, moving them to a cupboard in the kitchen. She stuck out her tongue and he laughed as they rejoined the party on the deck.

“Well, there you are. I was about to send out a search party, see if you’d gone down and fallen in the lake. Without telling anybody where you were going.” Mason’s mother added a dose of stern to her last words.

Enter Katie, waving her cell. “My bad, Mom. I forgot to tell you when Mason texted me a while ago.” And cue Katie’s cover story. “Andie thought she’d left the iron plugged in, so they had to cruise back to her place. Make sure her house didn’t burn to the ground.”

All the huff disappeared from Mary Lang’s demeanor. Not only did Katie lie convincingly, she’d chosen the perfect excuse. Women don’t take the threat of an unattended iron lightly. And it could’ve been true. Andie had hurried home on more than one occasion because of that nagging feeling that some appliance might still be on, plotting to overheat and throw itself at a flammable surface.

Easy as that, everybody resumed party mode. The
official
introduction to Mason’s sister. Another to her handsome fiancé. Talking, eating and a generous amount of drinking followed. Nobody leered or made insinuating remarks. That she and Mason had argued, gone off to make up with incredibly intense sex, then snuck back in, didn’t occur to anybody. Other than Katie, perhaps. If she knew what they’d gotten up to, she didn’t let on. Maybe she was used to covering for her brother and his dates. Not a good place for Andie’s mind to go since she had no business being possessive or jealous.

By evening, the Lang’s backyard had fifty people in it, maybe more. There were people everywhere—in the pool, filling every chair, hanging out on the lawn with plates of food. Every branch of his family had representation. Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews. Even Mason’s last surviving grandparent, Grandma Millie, who’d proven she could down firecracker shooters faster than Katie’s fiancé. Several times. Friends and neighbors rounded out the crowd. Not one of them seemed fazed that Mason’s girlfriend, as she’d repeatedly been called, was clearly older than the popular vet. Kind of gave her hope.

“Sooo, Andie,” Katie called as she hauled Logan away from the makeshift bar and his eighty-six-year-old nemesis. “Mason tells me that you’re a fabulous dressmaker.”

“Fabulous?
Really?” She eyed Mason. All he did was shrug.

“No, he’s not that good with words.” Katie snorted. “What he said is that you’re super busy making a bunch of wedding dresses and stuff. Not so eloquent, my brother. I added the fabulous part because I’m sure that’s what he meant. Right?”

“You know it.” Again, the affectionate tone of voice. Plus, he wrapped his arm around Andie’s waist and squeezed. Here was a man who knew how to keep all his ladies happy.

“Did he mention my wedding? Probably not, he’s been pretty grumpy about anything love-related…until recently.” Katie gave them a completely over-the-top wink. “Anyway, it’s a New Year’s Eve ceremony. Formal but not traditional. Trendy, but easy on the bling. I’d love to get something unique instead of off-the-rack, for me and my girls.”

Wow, Katie could talk. Fast. Like, impossible-to-interrupt fast. But after the comment about her bridal party, which sounded rather like she was referring to her ample endowments, Mason and Logan broke into laughter. Logan even tweaked the side of her boob.

“You guys are pigs.” Katie gave both men a shove. They used this as an excuse to put distance between their testosterone and talk of taffeta.

Andie envied them. Mixing business with socializing had the same effect on her stomach as finding out her regular lady doctor had been replaced with a hot male gyno—
after
the nurse had her gowned up and waiting in the stirrups.

Mary drifted over to fill the gap left by her son and future son-in-law. “I heard wedding. Whadid I misss?” Not the bar, apparently. She slurred as much as she swayed. She’d probably tip the scales on a breathalyzer machine before getting close enough to blow.

“Andie might do the dresses,” Katie said. “We just have to work out the details.”

Oh god. How’d they make that jump? “I’d be happy to meet with you sometime and show you samples of my work, references and a rough pricelist, though I’d need to work up a firm quote based on the intricacy of your designs.” Mentioning money scared off most acquaintances who thought she’d either work for free or at some secret, discounted rate.

“Can you drop some names of bigger weddings you’ve done?” This from Katie. Mary was too busy trying to focus on Andie’s face to speak.

“Sure. I did the bridal parties for the Almeida-Halliday wedding and the Jenner-Barrey wedding. I made all the dresses for the Paton-Thaler wedding, including the bride’s gown and both mothers.” Yes, she was boasting a bit, but Katie’d been the one to ask. Those jobs were the jewels in her business crown. Well-known families with enough money to buy the best of the best, and they’d chosen her to do custom work. Katie looked impressed. Mary, not so much.

“I remember you…” Mary aimed a pointed finger at Andie, but it wavered as much as its inebriated owner. “That liddle housse on Buller Street.”

“Years ago, yes. I’m on Paradise Avenue now. The address is on my card, I’ll run inside and get one from my purse.” Anything to get away from the wild-eyed stare.

Mary stopped her with a drunken grab on the forearm. “You hem pants.”

“Some. Less than I used to.” Where was this tangent coming from—or headed to—for that matter?

“Mason’s filled out since you first met him, hasn’t he?” Mary’s speech was getting clearer and her grip tighter. She gave an unfriendly laugh that turned most heads in their direction, Mason’s included.

“Excuse me?” Andie asked, trying unsuccessfully to free her arm.

Mason appeared beside her, gently prying his mother’s fingers loose. “Mom, what the hell? Let go of her.” He stood between them, one hand on each woman. Like a referee.

Andie’s stomach rolled. She’d let Mason—and her heart—talk her into coming back to the party. What a mistake.

“Mom needs a big glass of water and some food,” Mason said to his dad after he made his way through the party-goers. “And to walk away before she says something she’ll regret later.” Those words were directed at his mother.

“I’m jusstalking.” The hostess shook off the helping hands. And the advice. “Your baby cried the whole time you were pinning Mason’s pants. When was that…?”

“Mom, let’s go inside and make coffee,” Katie pitched in, her arm firmly around her mother’s shoulders.

But Mary wasn’t quite finished. Her eyes bulged as Katie hauled her toward the house. And her voice got louder—much louder. “His senior prom…twelve years ago…”

An acidic burn rose from Andie’s stomach. Up her throat, threatening vomit at the top. She looked up at Mason. Saw the shadow of the cute, gangly eighteen-year-old he’d been before becoming the handsome, muscular man of today. And she remembered. He’d stood in her little workroom, probably thinking about sneaking booze into the dance or getting laid in the backseat of a borrowed car. Her mind would’ve been on whether her baby would sleep more than four hours at a stretch, if her milk would wait for the clients to leave before it let down and if her husband would touch her again before she hit thirty.

The years between her and Mason suddenly seemed like an eternity.

“I remember those pants. They fit great.” Dozens of his friends and family goggling and he didn’t balk. Just smiled and took her hand. “Now
we
fit great.”

* * * * *

 

Andie woke to a face full of fur. “Good morning, pretty kitty.” Hugo purred his reply from his position above her head, his tail swishing across her cheek to tickle her nose. “Where’s your master?” And hers, for that matter.

Thanks to Mary’s alcohol-induced temporary insanity, they’d left the party before the fireworks display over the lake. After listening to the cracks and booms from his back deck last night, he’d suggested a shower before bed. She’d climbed in first. Mason had followed, carrying the tie from his bathrobe, with which he’d promptly secured her to the showerhead on the wall. First he’d used the handheld sprayer to make her come. He’d barely let her recover from the first orgasm before driving his tongue over her clit for a second. Then, hands still tied above her head and surrounded by mist and steam, he’d scooped her legs around his waist and fucked her against the tile wall. And it wasn’t even
her
birthday.

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