Where Would I Be Without You - By CJ Hawk Page 0,18

the eye and made a sexual suggestion that was more of a statement of his manhood than how he handles the building maintenance. "I can handle a lot. I'm very good with my hands."

I cleared my throat as I thought of all the ways he was good with his hands. Then I decided to ask him about working for his dad. "So, how big of a corporation is Montahue Properties and how do you like working for your dad?"

Just then, the waitress came up and asked us for our order. Mason looked at me and smiled, while keeping his eyes on me, he spoke to the waitress. Two long necks, house special, and two glasses of water; can we have some menus please." The waitress walked off with a 'sure' and most likely didn't think twice that Mason was staring at me while talking to her, but I did, and I liked it; however, I needed to make sure of something to calm my date jitter nerves "Is there some lipstick on my teeth or some eyelashes stuck together because you have a funny smile on your face?"

He reached over, put his hand behind my head and pulled me in close to him for a quick kiss. When he pulled back, I was silent as I let out a huge breath of air in pure happiness. That is what his kisses did to me; they made me tingle, smile and sing in places on my body that liked singing during moments like this. When he spoke up, his voice flirted with me. "I just felt like kissing you, just as that waitress walked up. It took all I had in me not to kiss you without telling her our order."

I laughed, because I was queen of the distraction ploy and thought perhaps that was what he was doing. "It was either that or you didn't want to talk about Montahue Properties or your dad."

He laughed and reached for my hand and held it on the table. "It could be that or I'd rather not talk so much shop about me. Kissing you seemed like a heck of a better idea. So what's your favorite thing to eat here, I am guessing you like to eat here as you have a glass vase full of matches from this place. Do people still collect those things?"

I laughed. "Just me. It started when I was a kid and wanted to know where my dad was at on a Friday or Saturday night. I would tell him in my stubborn nine-year-old voice that he needed to prove it to me. He knew I liked to wait up silently in my room until his shift ended, and he was safely home, so he reassured me by bringing home matches from the bar he used to get a drink at after work. My dad's a retired cop, and he used to tell me that Friday and Saturday nights were the worst. Brought out the weirdos in his district, and he just needed some down time before he came home around midnight. So I started saving all the ones he remembered to bring home and when he didn't bring home I figured he forgot. As I got older, I got wiser. It wasn't just the bar he was having a drink at, but a lady friend or two. I guess that is how my match collecting started."

"Ah. Ouch. That must have hurt." He said it with such compassion instead of the typical response of well some men are like that. Although with my dad, I think it had become a lifetime habit of deciding to stay married to my mom for the sake of us girls and then when we moved out, I don't think either of them could decide to do anything different about it. Then I felt his hand touch my face gently.

"You ok? You kind of faded off there, thinking of something? Listen. I'm sure that had to hurt knowing your dad was making a bad decision but not all good men are like that. Not that I'm saying your dad's not a good man, it's just a bad decision to do something like that."

Could you cue in the ark angels singing here? Because this raised Catholic girl just found herself, a man that didn't think cheating was out of necessity or ok. Unlike Steve and a few other guy's I knew. "I'm ok." I replied. Just then, the waitress showed up with our