She backed away from him, her shoulders hunched and suddenly she felt very, very small. “It would mean he doesn’t approve of me. The real me. And that hurts.”
Mason didn’t say a word. He just stared at her, reminding her of how they used to be, their previous and strange relationship. She’d complain about her family or her life to him for hours and he’d just listen, not saying a thing.
She’d always liked it then. Her big, quiet Secret Service agent confidant. A man she could spill all her secret complaints to and he would never say a thing in return. Never reveal any of it to anyone. Just their little secret.
Now, though, she wanted a reaction.
“And my mother,” she continued, more than ready to go on a roll. “She’d tell me it was pretty, but use that condescending tone she always has when she only talks to me. She’s never believed in me my entire life, so why should I expect anything more?”
“Do you really believe your parents wouldn’t want you to be happy?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” The words burst from her and she breathed deep, almost relieved to get this all off her chest. “My father wanted a boy but he got me. He even named me after my grandfather, for God’s sake. Wishful thinking I guess.
And my mother, she’s never been interested in me. She’d rather redecorate the house, or go to lunch with her friends or go buy something, anything to avoid spending time with me.”
Mason took a step forward. His gaze was intent, serious and he reached for her, grabbing her hand. “Your father cares for you, Blake. He’s just watching out for your best interests. He doesn’t want you to get in any trouble.”
“It feels like he’s trying to keep me down.” She shouldn’t have mentioned her parents, her father. Now she was sad, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t want anything to bring her down during her sacred time with Mason.
Their time together was limited. She needed to savor it.
“You two are too alike.” He squeezed her hand and tugged her close, slipping his other arm around her waist. “That’s why you struggle and argue and frustrate each other. Maybe you should make a peace offering. With a painting made special for him. He could hang it in his office.”
“Oh, Mason.” Just the idea of that, presenting her father with such a personal gift, so fearful of his reaction, made her stomach flutter with nerves. “I don’t know if I could ever do that.”
“Well, think about it.” He kissed the tip of her nose, the gesture so tender, so sweet, it took her breath away. “You have a lot to be proud of, Blake. Don’t get too hung up on what everyone thinks and do what you think is right for you.”
“When I do that, I usually get in trouble.”
“That’s because you want to get in trouble. Do something that brings you joy, not something that brings someone else misery.”
When did he become so wise? Had he been wise all along and she hadn’t realized it?
“You’re so good for me,” she whispered, meaning every word. He was. He kept her grounded, and he was honest to the point that it sometimes angered her. But she needed that, needed someone who saw past her bullshit and found the real her.
She’d never been this real for anyone before. Not her parents, not her handful of supposed friends, not any of the men she’d been involved with, and there had been so few.
Blake couldn’t imagine her life without Mason now.
The flicker she saw in the depths of his vivid green eyes made her freeze, her heart crack the slightest bit. She’d said too much, gotten too serious and he was probably silently freaking out.
“Blake...”
“Don’t say it.” She cut him off, rested her fingers over his mouth, stroking his lips with a feather light touch. She loved his mouth, the things he said, the way he kissed her, touched her everywhere with those firm yet sensuous lips.
She loved everything about him. She loved him.
Panic set her heart to racing and she withdrew, turned away from him so he wouldn’t see the panic and the love and the heart-wrenching foolishness of it all written all over her face.
She studied the painting she’d started earlier. The painting that had brought her so much joy now left a bad taste in her mouth. Why did she have to go and let herself fall in love with him? He could never return the feeling, no matter how much she convinced herself he would.
God, she needed therapy. Or a drink. Maybe even a cigarette and she hadn’t smoked since college. Panic hit, full blown in its intensity, and she didn’t want to take it out on him.
What she really wanted was for this to never end and inevitably, it would. It had to. Everything good always ended for her. Why couldn’t she for once keep the good stuff going?
“What’s wrong?”
Blake turned at the sound of his deep voice to find Mason standing before her with a confused expression marring his handsome face. His dark brows furrowed, even his nose was wrinkled and all she could think was how adorable he looked.