Second Chance Lane (Brockenridge #2) - Nicola Marsh Page 0,88

him the satisfaction of changing, she sat on the opposite end of the couch.

‘Thanks,’ he said, glancing into the bowl she handed him. ‘I must be back in your good books if you gave me an extra scoop.’

‘Just finishing off the container.’

‘Whatever works.’ He brandished the remote. ‘Ready to start?’

Jane nodded and picked up her bowl. It had turned to sludge, but she didn’t mind. It felt nice to have company while she watched her favourite movie and as the familiar tune signalling the opening scene filtered through the room, she snuck a peek at him.

His gaze was glued to the TV as he spooned ice-cream into his mouth and a funny ache resembling indigestion filled her chest. What would it be like to have a guy like Mason in her life on a permanent basis? A good guy, who appreciated the finer things like ice-cream and romantic comedies and chilling in your PJs for the hell of it?

She’d never watched a chick flick in her home with a guy before. The men she’d chosen had been too transient, too shallow, not the type she’d let into her life. But seeing Mason curled up on her couch with the throw rug draped over his legs gave her hope.

Could they have a future if she let her guard down?

‘You’re not watching the movie,’ he said, without shifting his gaze from the screen.

‘That’s because I’ve seen it a hundred times and it’s more fun watching you demolish ice-cream.’

‘It’s rude to stare,’ he said, shooting her a quick wink. ‘Especially when a guy’s got a sweet tooth.’

‘Do you really want to watch this movie?’

‘I wouldn’t still be here if I didn’t. Can we watch or are you one of those annoying people who have to chatter through a movie?’

‘Just watch,’ she muttered, and they did exactly that. For the two hours she pretended to watch the screen, acutely aware of his feet a few inches away from hers beneath the rug, of his booming laughter when Hugh Grant’s roommate posed in his underwear for the paparazzi, of the way his breathing mellowed during the romantic reunion at the end.

She may have loved having someone to share her favourite movie with but it was torturing her to be this close to a hot guy and not jump him. She wanted to, there was no question. But she didn’t want to fall into old habits, thinking sex equated with affection. This time had to be different. No use reinventing herself in other aspects of her life only to fail at this.

When the closing credits rolled, he switched off the movie and turned to face her. ‘So what’s next? A mani-pedi? Braiding each other’s hair? Playing truth or dare?’

‘Time for you to leave.’ She laughed as she pointed at the door. ‘Because I have a feeling you’re dissing my girly time.’

‘No dissing here.’ He held up his hands. ‘Though if I sit under this blanket with you for one second longer and you don’t make a move on me, I’ll start to seriously question my manliness.’

Her heart ka-thumped at the thought of exactly how she could make a move on him. Her skin flushed with anticipation. But she wouldn’t, no matter how much she wanted to throw caution to the wind and do exactly that.

‘Can’t two people watch a movie without making out at the end?’ She managed to sound calm when inside she was anything but.

‘I don’t know. But if the two people you’re referring to is you and me, I’ll say no.’ He snaked a hand under the rug and snagged her foot. She gasped as he tugged it onto his lap and started kneading it, hitting all the right pressure points with his powerful thumbs.

‘You don’t play fair,’ she murmured, unable to stifle a groan as he dug into her heel. ‘Wow, you’re good at that.’

‘I’m good at lots of things.’ He wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed.

‘Haven’t you heard that self-praise is no recommendation?’

He grinned. ‘That’s one of my mum’s favourite sayings.’

‘I know.’ She grinned back at him, trying to keep things lighthearted and not imagine what he could do with those magical hands on other parts of her body.

‘Give me your other foot,’ he said, and she did as she was told, letting her head loll back on the couch a little as he turned her body to mush under his ministrations.

She might’ve dozed off, or she might’ve been in a pleasure stupor, but when he stopped it took her a