smartass,” Mase whispers, a bolt of heat darting down my spine at the feel of his lips brushing along the shell of my ear. “I thought I was the only one you gave shit to.”
“Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Caveman?” I tease.
“Nope.” He nips at my ear. “I know you’re mine.”
I could never tell him because it would only encourage him, but I do love his possessive side at times.
“There’s also—” G’s words get cut off by Em smacking her hand over his mouth with a “Not the time.” I eye her, curious, but she only gives me a shake of her head. I’ll have to remember to ask her what that was all about later.
Jordan and Skye lay out the details of B’s—hold on, let me mentally roll my eyes—brilliant plan. E and B will go out the front, drawing the attention of any of the vultures lying in wait. Just in case anyone is looking, Em will pretend—not all that hard, mind you—to be me with a hoodie shielding her face while Bette and G escort her to E’s Escalade. It’s not much, but it should hopefully buy us enough time for Mase and me to sneak out the employee entrance where King will be waiting for us with the Royals’ Camaro.
Mase smirks, his dimples coming out to play as I accept the hoodie G brought with him from the AK house. Always wanting his name on me. He crouches in front of where I sit on the lowered hospital bed, his long fingers slipping inside the collar of the sweatshirt to free my trapped hair. His features soften as he looks at me adoringly, his thumbs coming up to stroke along my jaw.
I reach up and wrap my hands around his wrists as I catch another flash of guilt when he locks onto my cheek.
After a few more seconds, Mase lifts his backward ball cap from his head and places it on mine, this time with the bill facing front. I like how I can still feel his heat radiating from it. The hat should be too big on me, but my out-of-control hair helps keep it from being too loose.
With a small adjustment, he reaches back and pulls the hood of the sweatshirt over the top. Once satisfied I’m covered as best as can be, he places a kiss to the top of my head and holds out a hand for me to take. “Let’s get you home, baby.”
#Chapter19
King honks the horn in goodbye as he backs out of the driveway of my family home after dropping Mase and me off. Mase keeps his stride slow and small to match mine as we make our way to the front door, and I cast a curious look in his direction when he opens it without needing a key. We beat E and Bette home; the door shouldn’t be unlocked.
My unasked question gets answered as soon as we step inside and get hit with a delicious aroma wafting from the back of the house. I’d know the scent of Mama G’s chicken and dumplings anywhere.
“Oh god,” I moan. “I think I’ve gained five pounds just from the smell of your cooking,” I tell her as we make it to the kitchen.
“Sugah.” Mama G’s southern twang washes over me as she rushes around the counter to take me into her arms in a gentle, but still fierce, hug. She is where her sons learned how to bear-hug. Seriously, best huggers ever.
“I’m fine, Mama G.” I hold on a few seconds longer. “I promise.”
“Hungry?” She doesn’t wait for my response before pulling a plate from the appropriate cabinet.
“For your cooking?” The pressure of Mase’s hand on my back has me continuing on to the living room. “Always.”
I’m not surprised to see an episode of Chopped is playing on the flat-screen above the fireplace. Mama G loves her cooking shows, and it for sure shows in her culinary creations.
Mase helps me arrange a couple of throw pillows for support before settling a few cushions a ways down from me on the sectional and lifting my feet to remove my boots.
“Yaassss!” G’s voice bellows seconds after the front door opens and closes again, his footsteps smacking against the tile floor as he runs down the hallway. “Chicken and dumplings.” He lifts his mom into a spinning hug.
“Grant Samuel,” she scolds. “There’s no need for all that yelling.” She pats him lovingly on the cheek as he beams down at her.