Page 9

MASON

I stood near the entrance to the car park of Old Man Han’s pub and tried not to jiggle on my feet.

Sure, I was fifteen minutes early for the time that I’d agreed on with Nyla a week earlier, but there was no way in hell did I have any intention of being late on the date it took me weeks to get with her.

I flipped my phone in my hand and pocketed it half a dozen times, stepping back out of the way of the line that formed around the corner to the main entrance.

Even early in the night, the pub, a hot spot in its own right, built up a vibe that said the place should be packed.

But tonight, inside, it would be a decent date night for Nyla and me.

Assuming I got the time right and hadn’t screwed up .

Finally, her little car turned into the driveway.

She gave me a harried wave through the window, the tiny wheels bumping over the gravel as she pulled in and parked next to my truck.

The Ute was my favourite thing in the world.

I kept it white and spotless.

The tiniest bit of dust usually bothered all hell out of me, but not tonight.

I grinned broadly as Nyla slammed her car door and trotted over to me, slinging a teensy beaded bag that couldn't possibly hold anything important over her shoulder. Her long black hair swung in a silky black sheet to below her ass, the sheen melding with a floor length black skirt with a slit up the side that sat snug on her waist.

A thin strip of golden skin was visible at her stomach, the slightest curve there leaving my hands aching to palm her against me, before a strapless top of the matching material, also beaded, started.

In my simple black shirt and jeans I might have felt under dressed next to her but… She just blew me away and I couldn't stop staring.

“You look beautiful,” I murmured over a lump that developed in my throat and refused to budge.

She stopped at my side, panting a little and threw her hair over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be late. The babysitter isn’t one I’ve used before. I couldn’t get my regular. Brady wasn't sure about her, said he’d seen her with Stuart, and I didn’t want to leave him, so I left him at my sister-in-law, who isn’t the easiest person, and?—”

“Hey. It’s okay.” I cupped her hip without thinking, leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth. She stopped talking and stared at me. “Brady comes first, always. You’re second but only by a fraction, okay? Tonight is about you.”

“Oh.” Her hand drifted lightly over the back of my knuckles but she didn’t push my touch away.

Thank Christ, because I wouldn't have known what the hell to do with myself if she did.

“Come inside with me?

I booked a table.” I broke contact with her waist. The warmth of her still seared into my palm as I offered her my hand.

Nyla looked up at me with a tentative question in her eyes that said everything all at once.

And, knowing something of her history, I promised myself I’d try not to be the asshole like the ex who’d hurt her so badly that she hadn’t let herself date for the last ten years or however long since the catastrophe of him in her life.

“Alright,” she said softly, slipping her hand into mine, giving me a fraction of her trust.

I held onto her firmly, and headed back through the parking lot.

Nyla hesitated, and I tugged on her hand.

“Secret entrance.” I grinned.

“You want to avoid the crowd?” I raised an eyebrow, nodding in the direction of the line that wound halfway around the block and across the next street.

She stared. “Won’t inside be packed?”

I shrugged.

“Like I said, I booked a table.”

“Uh huh.” Her eyes narrowed a little, and I swore she was about to start hissing at me.

Mind, the pissed off kitten look was sexy as all fuck on her, so I wasn’t complaining.

Still grinning like a loon, I led Nyla in through the staff entrance at the back of the pub.

The kitchen staff greeted us with raised hands at the food prep station.

I checked over my shoulder to make sure my girl wasn’t freaking out, but she looked around the area with interest. One girl raised a hand to wave, and Nyla waved back.

I huffed a laugh under my breath.

Typical industry—everyone knew everyone.

I stepped out onto the main floor and found the man I searched for waiting for me behind the bar.

“Hansen.”

“My man.” The giant of the Sanford Sentinels stepped out around the bar and slung one arm around my shoulders.

He was the only player on the team who matched me in height, but by far overwhelmed me in terms of bulk.

“And this is…” he trailed off and let me do the honours.

“Nyla. This is my teammate and mentor, Hansen Beaucliff. He’s our forward prop. He does the heavy work in the scrums,” I explained when Nyla shook her head.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She looked around the nearly empty room, apart from a few select dinners and back to us.

“Shouldn’t— shouldn’t this place be packed? There’s a line outside…” she faltered off when Hansen laughed, and looked down.

“Don’t do that,” I said softly.

“You don’t have to hide here. Nyla runs a restaurant on the other side of town. Cowboy’s Pitstop.”

“Does she?” Hansen eyed her with interest.

“I used to,” Nyla said softly, raising her head with no small amount of defiance glittering in her stunning eyes.

“I quit last week when my ex—my boss,” she corrected herself, “accused me of theft, then set up the staff member who did to um…” she waved a hand vaguely and turned pink.

Hansen’s eyebrows shot for the ceiling.

“Sounds like a damn good reason to quit to me,” he muttered.

“Yes, we have a line around the block. We close for…ce rtain arrangements. Jenna will show you to your table.” He shot me a hard look and turned back to the bar, muttering under his breath about shit business owners who didn’t look after their staff, not keeping his voice half as low as he should have, or maybe that was the point.

A girl dressed in a long sleeved white shirt and black pressed slacks with her hair pulled back in a ponytail smiled at Nyla.

“This way.”

Nyla blinked.

“I expected you to talk to him.” She looked back at me.

The server, Jenna, wrinkled her nose.

“I’m pretty sure he gets enough attention, don’t you?” She winked and turned around to lead us to a table set off to one corner.

Red wood planking created a semi booth that hid us from the rest of the mostly empty restaurant where Hansen had allowed just enough patrons in for this part of the night to create a cozy ambience without letting the place feel bare or empty.

A mini coach lantern glowed softly above us as Nyla slid into one side.

I sneaked into the L-shape beside her.

“This is really nice, Mason. Thank you. He’s mad not for letting the rest of those people in, though. Losing a ton of cash. ”

“Yeah, it’ll cost me a few favours, for sure.” I snapped my mouth shut, but the words slipped out.

Nyla’s head turned as what I said sank in.

“Are you shitting me?”

I winced.

“No?” I sighed. “It can get hectic, with the media. Some nights it’s normal. Some nights…it’s not so normal. I wanted to take you somewhere nice without it being fussy and…this is the best place I know. Apart from my aunt's cooking, but don’t let my mother know that. She’ll skin me.”

Her nose twitched. “Okay, so you might have dug yourself out of that one. Saved by the aunt I’ll never meet. But seriously.” Nyla twisted in her seat, peeking around me at the door. “Hansen shouldn’t close up just to give us–”- she jabbed an elbow lightly at my midsection, “or you privacy or favours. It’s kinda sweet and weird at once.”

“He has this place because he loves it. Loves working, and always wanted a pub of his own. Not for money, Nyla. We’ve all got enough of that to keep us going for years. Some of us just love to work.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, because you ran the summer clinic for pocket change.”

“Actually, I donated it all to the Granny Challenge. It goes to a dementia secure ward because there was a fire in a local one. That’s why Leon and I set up the clinic in the first place. Not everything is about money, Nyla. We don’t all have the fucked up motivations like your ex.” I reached out to touch her cheek and found her skin burning.

Fuck.

“Okay.” She tipped her head away, but I couldn't leave it like that.

“I keep fucking up with you, don’t I?

” I stroked my fingers across her cheek until she looked at me, and my heart fucking shattered at the pain reflected in her eyes.

I didn’t need to ask who hurt you because I knew already.

Him—and now, maybe even me.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, still stroking her cheek.

“I’m gonna try not to shove what I think down your throat from now on, okay?”

She laughed and leaned into my touch.

“That’s actually okay. I like that you believe in something that you’re passionate about, even if your view of the world is a bit skewed. Not all of us have that sort of… Privilege.”

My lips twisted into a grin.

“If I told you that I grew up on an island with less than three hundred people on it, and dinner came from my tiny backyard, including the animals I named as a kid, would that change things?” I flipped open a menu before she could answer.

Nyla blinked at me. “Perspective, huh?”

I nodded slowly.

“Yeah. I could do with a bit of that.”

“No, I mean me. Drink?” She smiled shyly at me, lacing our fingers together in a knot I wasn’t sure I’d be able to undo if I had to, and wasn’t sure I wanted to break anyway.

The date went smoothly from there.

A guy with a guitar introduced himself on the stage by the bar and started playing.

I forgot his name as I listened to Nyla talk about herself and Brady, tucking away each tiny fragment of information she offered, stilted at first then gaining confidence when I never shot her down like I suspected the assholic ex must have done whenever she opened her mouth.

By the time the last morsel of our shared chocolate mousse and fancy cream that I couldn't pronounce, but she did, was gone, she’d let me slide my arm across her shoulders, and snuggled into my side. Hansen had opened the doors half an hour before and turned the sound up on the guitarist who played slightly fast rock covers. I pressed my lips to the top of her head and inhaled.

“Frangipanis. ”

“What?” Nyla looked up at me dozily. “I think I've been food coma-ed.”

“You smell like frangipanis.” I inhaled a long, slow breath again. Smells like home. “Maybe marshmallows or something sweet.”

She giggled, batting at me. “I think you’re analysing my shampoo. Or my moisturiser. Or something.”

“I like it.”

“Um, good?” She smiled up at me, finishing the sparkling lime water she’d requested earlier, refusing alcohol.

I got the impression Stuart was responsible for that, too, and promised myself that if we ever crossed paths again, there would be words. I still wasn’t sure what happened, exactly, that day she quit the restaurant, and I didn’t want to push her, but it had to be bad from the way rebellion rolled from her in waves when she talked about it earlier. Which also meant she was jobless. I turned that thought over in my head, and hated that I’d brought up money earlier. One of my aunts reached out and distance slapped me for my thoughtlessness.

Pushing the thought to the back of my mind for now, I tangled my fingers in her hair and tugged gently. “How long have you got the babysitter for, gorgeous?”

A small tremor rippled through her fine frame. “All night?”

She made it a question, but there wasn’t one in her jet gaze when her eyes locked on mine.

“Good.” I leaned down and pressed my lip to her temple. “Can I drive you home? Your car is safe here overnight. Hansen lives above the bar. And his Lexus is parked right below the back door.”

She nodded, her knotted fingers squeezing mine as that fine full-body tremor repeated itself. Jenna appeared on cue with the bill. I signed for it before Nyla could offer to pay. She huffed at me, but didn’t fight when I tipped her chin up and pressed my lips lightly to hers in a brief kiss that tested my control.

“Let me have this, okay? One night where I get to spoil you. Then you can go back to sassing all hell out of me after midnight.”

Her eyes sparkled at me beneath the coach lantern swaying above us in time with the music. “You promise?”

“With everything I am.” I led her between the full tables, back out the way we came, waving to Hansen over my shoulder .

He waved back. “See you at the exhibition match next week.”

I groaned. “Hell. I forgot about that.”

“Coach won’t let you. Get your beauty sleep.” He winked at Nyla. “Don’t let him push you around.”

“Never.” She broke away from me to reach up and give the giant of a man a huge hug, whispering something I couldn’t hear over the crowd's growing chatter.

I stared down at her in wonder as she bounced back alongside me. “What was that?”

She shrugged. “I told him his steaks were a thousand percent better than the Cowboy's Pitstop ones, and that there’s also a chef he needs to headhunt called Chaz who is totally underutilized there.”

I stared at her for a long moment, then laughed. “You are the sweetest damn thing, you know that?” I found her hand again. “Most people find him scary as hell.”

“I think they say that about you, too.”

I stopped, holding the back door of the pub open for her after we waved goodbye to the staff and thanked them for our meal. “Really? Me?” I was just the island kid who got a good run, a lucky streak a few years back and managed to hold onto it because of a good team, a better trainer and hard work .

Nyla huffed up at me. “You have no idea, do you? That’s who you are, Mason Hale. You’re untouchable. The kid who runs faster than anyone, who works the hardest to prove who he is. Arrives before anyone else, trains later and has some of the most unbelievable stats for the season. And you’re ‘broody looking as hell’.” She air quoted me.

From where, I had no idea.

I looked at her askance as I unlocked my truck and held the door for her while she climbed up. “All that, huh?”

“My son might be a fan.”

“And you?”

The silky black material of her skirt slipped to expose her thigh. I gathered the soft black fabric in my fist, letting her feel the pull and leaned down and kissed her before she could answer me. Not too rough, but hard enough. Her hand closed over mine and moved it higher along her thigh.

“Maybe. My place is empty tonight. Brady’s staying at my sister-in-law’s with the sitter.” Her mouth opened sweetly beneath mine.

It took every inch of my restraint not to push her back in the leather seat, slide my hand between her legs and find out how fast I could make her come for me in the parking lot right there .

Instead, I backed up, released my hold on her skirt and her thigh that trembled as I let her go, and kissed her gently once more. “Will you give me directions, gorgeous? Because I’m distracted as hell right now.”

She nodded as I shut the door, heading around to my side, adjusting my cock in my pants and prayed I’d get us safely across town.