I held my phone in hand for a long time, working up the courage to do what I needed to. I was done keeping Mason at arm’s length.
The phone rang, my heart hammering in my chest as I waited for him to answer. When I got his voicemail, I debated hanging up, but the memory of his words had me pressing on.
“Hey, it’s me. I saw the footage of you online. Thank you for what you said. It meant a lot. I was hoping we could talk.” I sighed. “Anyway, I miss you. Hopefully we can talk tomorrow if you still want to.” I laughed nervously. “Um, anyway, I’m blathering. I don’t even remember the last time I left someone a voicemail, but I wanted to hear your voice. Night, Mason.” I hung up, groaning. “Could I be any more of a dork?” I demanded out loud.
It took me a while to fall asleep, staring up at the ceiling hoping he’d call me back and losing hope the later it got. Finally, my lids drooped, and I drifted off, dreaming of my football star.
Chapter 11
ELLIE
It felt like minutes later but was really already close to dawn when my father’s voice woke me from a deep sleep. “Ellie, honey. Stephanie’s in labor.”
I shot up in bed, instantly awake and ready to scramble out the door just as a clap of thunder shook the windows.
He placed a calming hand on my shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze, the gesture so familiar from my childhood. “Storm’s still bad. I don’t want your mother driving alone, and we both know there’s no way in hell she’s missing this. I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here. I’m not sure how long we’ll be gone, and I want to make sure the animals are looked after. Randy will be here but not for several more hours. He has damage to his own property he has to tend to,” he added, referring to the ranch hand who had been helping my family for close to a decade.
“Sure,” I agreed. I wanted to be there for my brother and Steph, but they’d have plenty of support. “Just make sure to give me lots of updates, Grandpa.”
“I will. Your mother’s already in the car. I better get down there before she raises hell.”
I had no doubt my mother was chomping at the bit. “Drive carefully.”
With another nod, he left the room, leaving me to stare blearily into space trying to decide if I could go back to sleep or not. The next rumble of thunder confirmed that wouldn’t be possible, and I reluctantly swung my legs over the side of the bed.
I glanced over at my phone, which registered no new calls or texts. My stomach dropped at the sight. But it had been late when I called Mason, I reasoned. He hadn’t had time to respond.
Right?
I made my way downstairs, both dogs greeting me at the base of the stairs as I made my way for the coffeepot.
“You been out yet?” I asked them as they sat watching me, cocking their heads as though trying to understand me. I sometimes thought they caught on to more than we assumed. The breed was at times frightfully smart. We’d had Australian shepherds my whole life, and these two, Lola and Benny, my parents had brought home after my brother and I had moved out. Both were speckled gray with striking eyes and at first were hard to tell apart. Lola was smaller than her brother and slightly more mischievous.
By the time I stepped outside, the sun had risen but was blanketed by storm clouds. The wind had died down, but the damage from the storm was clear all over our debris-littered property.
I spent the next few hours feeding the animals, mucking stalls, and was able to at least temporarily repair the chicken coop. The rooster had somehow escaped, and after some wrangling and several scratches to prove it, I got him back in the coop.
I was walking back to the house, ready for a hot cup of coffee, some food, and a nap—in that order—when the dogs took off barking just as I spotted a figure seated on the porch. I stepped closer, at first in caution and then in shock as Mason’s image resonated. He stood, his eyes locked on mine as I drew closer.
“How? Wha… What are you doing here?” I sputtered as the dogs wriggled around us, now content that Mason wasn’t a threat.
He stared at me with that trademark intensity of his. “You said you wanted to talk.”
“I figured you’d give me a call!” I exclaimed, still trying to make sense of the fact that he was actually here. “How did you even get a flight out in the storm?” I marveled.
“I didn’t. I drove.”
My mouth gaped. “You drove?”
He didn’t respond, simply stared at me, his eyes roving my face as though starved for the sight of me. I don’t know if it was sheer exhaustion, emotion over the pending birth of my niece, or his gesture alone, but tears pooled in my eyes as I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his neck. He caught my weight easily, lifting me as I wrapped myself around him like a vine.
Seeing him now, when I’d worried I might have pushed him away for good, made me realize I wasn’t halfway in love with him, I was already there.
“Take me to bed,” I demanded, needing him more than I’d ever needed anything.
He made a pained sound in the back of his throat. “I can’t believe I’m going to fucking say this, but no.” When I went to pull back in surprise, he pulled me closer, pressing his forehead to mine. “Not because I don’t want to, because you gotta believe I do, badly,” he assured me. “But we went that route after the charity event, and baby, as hot as that was, I could feel you pulling away from me. You slipped through my fingers, and I’m not letting that happen again. We needed to talk then—just like we have to talk now,” he pressed.
If I wanted any hope of a future with this man, I knew he was right. I couldn’t push my worries aside; I couldn’t hide. I had to let him see me in the light of day, scars and all.