When I'm Gone(34)

I didn’t want to stay here. Couldn’t we wait for a server to walk around with one of those trays? But then I doubted he wanted the fruity drinks they were serving that way. “Champagne is fine,” I replied.

He squeezed my side. “I’ll be right back.”

Just as I’d feared, women seized the opportunity and approached him as he walked away from me. He was polite and didn’t seem interested, but it was still hard to watch. Because those girls wouldn’t be nervous when he touched them. They’d have sex with him behind a palm tree out here if he wanted them to. That was what I had to compete with.

Besides, I had a twisted darkness inside my past that I would never be able to fully tell Mase about. They didn’t have that kind of problem. They were free to enjoy their bodies and make men happy. I felt sick.

A blonde wrapped her arms around Mase and kissed his cheek. He gently pushed her away, but he continued to talk to her as he got our drinks. I couldn’t watch this. I moved my attention to anywhere else. Harlow and Grant had already left with Lila Kate; they hadn’t stayed at the party long. There was no one else I knew. Mase had introduced me to several people, but I didn’t really know them.

I would not glance back at Mase. I was also considering taking off my sundress. But these women had bodies much nicer than mine. They were thin, with no added padding in their bottoms. And their boobs were all nice and round and perfectly positioned on their chests. Not too big or too small.

Taking off my dress might be a bad idea after all. At least, Mase wouldn’t be able to see exactly how imperfect my body was. God, I hated this feeling. I never compared myself with other women. At least, not in the past. Now here I was, doing it.

My gaze went back to Mase. He was now holding two drinks and headed my way. The blonde was gone. He seemed annoyed. I hoped it wasn’t because he was here with me but could be having sex right now with a number of willing, beautiful women.

I could lose him.

So very easily.

And I’d just gotten him.

When he finally reached me, he handed me the champagne. “Once you finish that, are you ready to go? I’m ready to have you alone. I’ve done my duty and shown my face here.”

I had the urge to throw back the flute and down the pink bubbly drink. I was ready to leave, too—before Mase got an offer he couldn’t refuse. I was thankful for his ranch out in Texas. I didn’t imagine there were gorgeous, model-thin heiresses throwing themselves at him there.

“Yes. I’d like to go when you’re ready,” I admitted.

Mase studied my face a moment, then took the champagne from my hand. “I’ll buy you a bottle at the store if you want more. Let’s go,” he said, putting the flute down on the table nearest to us and leaving his untouched small glass of amber liquid there, too.

His hand settled on my lower back, and he led me through the crowd as he took us out to where the valet waited.

Once we were in the truck, Mase reached over and took my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “Thanks for coming with me tonight. I only went because Harlow thought I should show my face since I was in town. She’s friends with Bethy and Tripp. I was glad I had you with me. Made the night bearable.”

That man and his words. It almost made me forget how hard it was to watch women flirt with him with every breath he took. He didn’t flirt back, though. But I didn’t see Mase as a flirter. It wasn’t his style. Didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy their attention. How could he not? They were beautiful and willing.

“I liked meeting your friends,” I told him.

He squeezed my hand. “They liked meeting you.”

I wanted to ask him how he knew the blonde who had hugged him and kissed him. But I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut.

“Do you want me to stop and get more champagne?” he asked, with a trace of humor in his voice.

I shook my head no and laughed.

“I like to hear you laugh. You didn’t do much of that tonight,” he said, as his thumb began caressing my hand. “You laughed more today when it was just us.”

“I was too busy taking it all in.”

“Thanks for not taking off that little dress of yours.”

Why did he say that? Was he worried about how I’d look without it?

“If you’d taken it off, I’m afraid we would have left even earlier, because I’d have been thrown out. I don’t like the idea of another man looking at what’s mine.”

Whoa. OK. I was his? Oh . . . wow.

“I kept thinking about how I’d react if you wanted to swim. I was trying to come up with excuses to keep that sweet ass covered up.”