Page 21 of Hidden Resolution (Stonebrooke #2)

T he message came through that Jacob wouldn’t be coming back.

Zack discovered his son was in the grip of the same lunatic who had Erica. With nothing left to do, Shonda drove to the hospital.

Everyone crowded into that sterile waiting room was worried sick, and she was no exception. Not only for Erica and Jacob, but for Charlie, too.

The man had been a fixture in town since her childhood.

He was also the same person who had caught her and Erica smoking a joint behind the movie theater as freshmen.

Instead of hauling their butts to their parents for punishment, he’d issued a single warning, giving them a fatherly hug and making them feel they’d personally let him down.

His censure had been worse than any grounding.

While she was present for news on Charlie, being near Zack meant real-time updates on Erica as well. What she hadn’t accounted for, though she probably should’ve, was Mason’s emotional retreat. Apparently, he’d met his comfort quota and slipped back into his Fortress of Solitude.

Fine. She was long past the shock of Erica’s kidnapping and didn’t need his attention to stay upright. It was important to remember who had ended things, she reminded herself. Wasn’t she the one who’d said she was done riding the merry-go-round of mixed signals?

As if she’d reached out to him with her thoughts, Mason appeared before her. All six foot four inches of rugged, maddening male.

“It appears Zack isn’t returning with our coffee. I’m going to pick it up. Do you want any?”

“Sure.” She cast a glance around and counted heads. “Do you want me to go with you to help carry anything back?”

“I think I can handle four drinks.” His tone was clipped, making her feel foolish for offering.

“Okay. Two cre?—”

“I know how you take it.” Abruptly, he stalked away.

So she wouldn’t chase him and beat him over the head with her bag, Shonda pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and counted to ten. Adding another twenty to be safe. Everyone was fraying at the seams, and strangling him wasn’t considered a valid coping mechanism.

Twenty minutes passed.

Which was about ten minutes longer than it should have taken to wrangle a few cups of caffeine. Maybe someone should’ve gone after Mr. High and Mighty to help him manage the Herculean task of juggling a tray after all.

Not that she cared.

Other than a headache from the lack of caffeine, why should she care whether Mason needed help? He’d made himself abundantly clear. He didn’t want ties.

She wasn’t built to be a fuck buddy. Sure, another woman would jump at the bait, convinced she could convert him. But Shonda had learned the hard way. Believing anyone would change their ways always ended the same, with one person brokenhearted and the other long gone.

Her faith in happily ever after was thin these days.

Her wayward thoughts chased each other around her brain on one giant hamster wheel, wearing her down. What-if. Should-she. Could-she. The loop was endless. And in the background was the bigger fear of, God, please let Erica be okay!

“Shonda, dear, would you mind checking to see what’s keeping Mason?” Connie Sharp asked with a warm smile on her face.

Dane popped up. “I’ll go. I need to make sure Zack’s all right, anyway.”

“I didn’t ask you, dear. I asked Shonda,” Connie replied. Her sweetness didn’t mask the steel underneath. “You’ll stay to keep me company.”

Shonda liked Connie. She really did. But the woman had been all too eager to nudge her and Mason into each other’s arms since they met earlier.

And if Shonda found it annoying, she could only imagine what commitmentphobe Mason was experiencing.

Did Connie not know her son at all? Did she believe the king of emotional detachment would willingly wade into a relationship?

The poor woman was deluded if she did. The continual push would send him backpedaling in the opposite direction.

“I’ll be happy to check,” Shonda said, hiding a wry smile. “Be right back.”

Amusement flickered in Connie’s knowing eyes.

It caught Shonda off guard. What had she been like in her youth?

Wild? Reckless? Softhearted? Had Connie been a carefree heartbreaker, like Mason?

Or staid and family-oriented, like Dane?

Probably a mix of the two, similar to Zack, who seemed to laugh easily and love with every fiber of his being.

“Thank you, dear,” Connie said.

“Think nothing of it,” Shonda replied, dry as desert.

She found Mason leaning against the kiosk counter, fully engaged in a flirty conversation with a female employee. The woman’s V-neck did little to hide the sexy lace bra or the nipples it was supposed to shield. Subtlety was not part of the barista’s wardrobe.

Shonda remained torn about interrupting. Her stomach knotted as the woman laughed suggestively and bent closer to whisper in his ear. Mason’s smirk didn’t falter as she pressed a piece of paper into his hand. As a matter of fact, he appeared utterly relaxed.

The green-eyed monster Shonda had buried under logic and self-respect tore free and leapt straight for her throat.

“Excuse me,” she called, the rudeness ringing through the quiet lull of the coffee line. “Your mother is waiting on her order, and the line’s backing up. Think you could let this poor girl get back to work?”

Mason’s glance swept the growing line of patrons before landing on her with a wintry weight. Her stomach pitched. Although he didn’t reply, the annoyed glint in his eyes said plenty.

Shonda had overplayed her hand. It didn’t matter that she’d called it quits last night. By creating a scene, she’d driven the final nail in the coffin of their relationship.

And the knowledge stung far more than expected.

He tucked the phone number into his back pocket, stepped around her without a word, and sauntered away. The effort it took to keep her expression neutral was monumental. Her only consolation was a moving line.

“Can I get a slice of lemon pound cake?” she asked politely.

If Erica could find solace in sugar, maybe she could, too.

Shonda passed a ten to the smirking barista and accepted change with a clipped smile.

Mason had vanished, for which she was grateful. Her emotional meltdown wouldn’t have an audience.

Okay, maybe one witness.

Dane leaned against the wall outside the women’s restroom, arms folded.

Of all the rotten luck.

“Shonda.” His warm understanding made it harder to pretend.

And he had to have known. Having gotten them coffee earlier, he was sure to have seen the pin-up-worthy barista and known she was Mason’s type. He’d tried to save her by offering to fetch Mason and their missing order.

“It’s fine,” she croaked. “Really. Do you mind?”

She gestured to the bathroom door behind him.

“Not at all,” he said, flashing a roguish grin as if her world wasn’t imploding.

She stepped forward, but before she could pass, his arms came around her, and his mouth covered hers.

Holy hell.

The bag with her cake hit the floor as her hands gripped his shoulders. His kiss was firm and unapologetic, coming close to helping her forget.

“What the actual fuck?” Mason’s furious snarl brought a threatening energy.

In Mason’s need to separate them, Dane was shoved aside and Shonda was jerked backward in a rough grip.

“If you don’t want her, there are plenty of hot-blooded males who do,” Dane taunted.

It was the absolute wrong thing to say to a feral person.

Mason’s fist landed, breaking Dane’s nose with an echoing crack.

“Oh my God!” Shonda gaped at the blood gushing down his face. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me?” Mason was incredulous. “I’m not the one kissing my brother.”

A round of snickers rippled through the onlookers, and his brows clashed as he registered what he’d said. Even Dane, slumped against the wall with his head angled to stem the flow, snorted.

“You know what I mean,” Mason snapped.

“The last I checked, you were accepting phone numbers from coffee girls,” she retorted. “You don’t get to weigh in on who I do or don’t kiss.” She shoved him to get to Dane. “Feel free to go to hell, asshole.”

“Gladly.”

His angry strides helped him disappear around the corner, leaving Shonda staring after him, mind blank and heart thudding from the adrenaline rush.

“Uh, sweetheart? Any chance you could get me paper towels or napkins to stop the bleeding?”

She crashed back to earth.

“Oh God! I’m so sorry!” Scooping up the forgotten bag, she pulled out the stack of napkins and handed them over.

“I’m going to smell lemons for the rest of the day,” he joked.

“I doubt you’ll be smelling anything any time soon.” She examined the angle of his nose. “What were you thinking with your moronic move?”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Dane’s sparkling humor was misplaced, and she stared in disbelief.

His brows shot up in question.

“That’s beside the point,” she mumbled, warmth creeping into her cheeks.

“No, I’d say it’s exactly the point. We both enjoyed it and pissed off my brother in the process. Win-win, wouldn’t you say?”

“There’s something seriously wrong with the men in your family.” She grabbed his hand and tugged. “Let’s go. We need to find a doctor. I don’t like the angle of that nose.”

“Yeah, it hurts like a bitch.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you took that shot like a fucking champ. Anyone else would be out cold.”

“Is it any wonder why I adore you?” he teased.

“Come on, Romeo.”

He slung an arm over her shoulders. “For support.”

“Uh-huh.” She jerked to a halt as she recalled why she’d sought Mason in the first place. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

“Your mother is going to murder me.”

“Not hardly. Who do you think gave me the idea to kiss you?”

Shonda’s mouth dropped open. “No!”

Dane’s answer was a shit-eating grin.

“She’s the devil.” Ten paces later, she stopped and scowled. “Wait. You didn’t want to kiss me?”

“Are you serious right now?” he scoffed. “Hell yes, I wanted to kiss you. More, if truth be told, but you’re Mason’s girl.”

“Now we’re adding delusional to your family’s flaws,” she said sourly.

“The two of you can keep pretending, but the rest of us have eyes.”

While they waited for the doctor to set his nose, Dane clasped her hand and said the one thing that stopped her inner spiral.

“My sophomore year, you walked down the hall in your cheerleader uniform, ponytail bouncing in time to the hemline of your sexy skirt. I had to carry my backpack in front of me for a full fifteen minutes to hide what it did to me.”

Shonda ducked her head and bit her lip to hide a grin.

“Shonda?” His deep, serious tone brought her gaze up. “It was worth the broken nose.”

She smiled. “You say that now.”

“I’ll say it forever.”

“Why couldn’t you have been the brother I fell in love with?” she asked with a heartfelt sigh.

The second it left her mouth, she wished she could snatch it back.

But Dane didn’t flinch or appear surprised by her slip. “Timing. If I’d been your flight mate, you wouldn’t have looked twice at him.”

“Probably.” She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for not making it weird. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to him about…” She gave a vague wave, unable to mention love a second time.

“Mum’s the word.” He smiled, then winced. “You owe me TLC. Caring for me should piss him off more.”

Shonda barked a laugh, and thanks to Dane, she had the feeling she would be okay. Eventually.