Page 43 of Raised On It (Between the Pines #1)

Mason

You are cordially invited to an afternoon of Book Talk.

Please join me at:

The home of Miles and Lou Montgomery

2055 SE Lincoln

Eastlyn, OR

Time: 2:30 p.m.

Please R.S.V.P. to the gentleman standing in front of you upon receipt of this invitation.

*Complimentary wine, hors d’oeuvres, and German shepherd included.

G rabbing my invitation off the counter and taking a deep breath, I take one last look at myself in the mirror.

The weather has changed dramatically in the past few days, and the gray sky looks moody, to say the least. I think rain is on its way, and so with the change in the weather comes a change to my wardrobe.

Staring back at me in light blue skinny jeans, an oversized khaki sweater hanging off one shoulder, and light brown ankle boots with her hair curled in perfect waves and wearing barely there makeup is a woman who looks scared to death.

And I am.

We’re finally going to discuss the book. I am knowingly and willingly attending an event where my work is going to be judged and scrutinized by the man I love, and that scares the crap out of me.

What scares me even more is what happens five days from now when Katie comes home. He’s made no mention of it, yet it’s all I can think about.

“You got this, Mason,” I say to the image in the mirror.

“Unless he thinks your writing is crap and breaks up with you because of it, tonight you will discuss where this is going, and you will have a plan for what is to come once the house flip comes to an end. You are not leaving his place without having a real discussion.”

Leaving the house fifteen minutes before the time on my invitation should have me there with about seven minutes to spare. I head out with my shoulders back, confidence in place, and doubt left behind.

Usually one to have music playing at all times in the car, I’m almost to his place before I realize the car is silent except for my own voice practicing what I want to say to Miles when I bring up our relationship and where we’ll be this time next week.

As I pull up to his house, my fears change course and focus on the book talk about to take place. I’m more afraid to hear what Miles has to say than I have ever been with my editor.

But all is well when I see the sweet black and tan boy waiting for me in the front window. I do believe he’s wearing a business tie.

What in the world?

Lou’s smiling face calms my nerves. And I run from the car to the front door, looking up at the sky surprised it hasn’t opened up just yet. I’m not mad the rain has stayed away, though. No need to look like a wet dog while we discuss my words.

More like my heart and soul poured on to the page. But no biggie. It’s just a book, right?

Here goes nothing.

When I open the door and let myself in I’m met with not only a tie wearing German shepherd but also his studious looking father, well sort of. He’s got on worn jeans, a light blue button-down shirt, backward EBC baseball cap and to top it off glasses.

Holy hotness!

“Well, if it isn’t the guest of honor. We’re honored to have the author of this month's book club selection here at our humble little book chat, aren’t we, Lou?”

“You’re crazy. What’s with the glasses?”

Instead of answering my question, he kisses me long and hard, and I couldn't care less what he thinks about the book. As long as he kisses me like this, all is right in the world .

Much too soon, he releases me and walks me to the living room.

“What did you do?” I gasp, trying not to cry.

“Well, you sent me an eBook copy of the book, and that just won’t do for a book club meeting, will it? Don’t worry, we did it at the office, so it’s all secure. Your words are not floating around out there for anyone to steal. Bennett and I did it ourselves.”

In front of me, the table is adorned with a bottle of wine, two glasses, fruits, cheeses, crackers, and two printed copies of my book. On the cover page of each stack of pages it says:

The Book with No Name

Written by: City Mouse

“If you’d like to take your seat, we can get started.”

I sit in my favorite spot on the couch. He covers me in a blanket and pours me a glass of wine.

It takes a minute before the blanket registers, but when it does, my heart skips a beat.

“Miles, what have you done?”

“Oh, you mean, what have I done with all the pictures you said were just filling up my phone and that I would never do anything with?”

“Miles, my face is everywhere.”

“I know, isn't it great?”

“Miles…”

“Don't worry, I won't make you say you were wrong. Or that I'm a genius. ”

“I think genius maybe pushing it. When did you take all of these?”

The blanket on my lap is covered in pictures of me sleeping with Lou, taking pictures on the farm, sitting at the kitchen table writing, blow-drying my hair, blowing him kisses, posing with my girls in New York, and with his Crew at The Verdict. It's amazing and embarrassing all at once.

“Honey, I told you, you didn't know everything there is to know about me. I have to keep things interesting. This way even if you aren't here, I can still wrap you around me.”

Even if I'm not here.

There it is.

“So I did a little research on book clubs and learned that sometimes attendees come dressed like their favorite characters, and I figured I had the outfit so I thought what the heck.” Lifting the glasses up and down, he continues.

“Picked up these bad boys at the pharmacy and bam! I’m Tucker Rhinehart!

Hot sandy-haired farm boy who looks good in a pair of jeans and a backward baseball cap. Oh, and glasses.”

“Interesting, I didn’t see the similarities between the two of you until now. Must be the glasses.” I giggle.

“Are the specs supposed to be my Clark Kent disguise?”

It’s suddenly way too hot to be curled up in a blanket, but all I want to do is hide underneath it. But I promised myself I wouldn’t let myself hide my feelings today, and I guess there’s no time like the present to start.

“I had a pretty hot muse.”

“Yes, you did.” He bends down and kisses me quickly before taking a seat in the armchair across from me. “Shall we begin?”

“That’s what we’re here for.”

I grab a pen and the journal I used to plot The Book with No Name out of my bag ready to take notes.

Lou lies down at his daddy’s feet, and we both take a sip of wine. Miles picks up his printed copy of The Book with No Name, and my heart trips over itself.

“Chapter One…”

Two hours and thirty chapters later, we’re finally to the end. Except for one small break that included strawberry shakes delivered from Tom’s, we haven’t gotten off track. I thought he may start off all formal and that the book club schtick would wear off at some point, but he was serious.

We’ve gone chapter by chapter and discussed the characters, the storyline, and oh yes, the sex scenes.

He was particularly detailed with those sections.

He also gave me some pretty productive notes.

He pointed out a few spots where the hero’s dialogue didn’t really sound like something a guy like Tucker Rhinehart would say, which really meant Miles would never say it.

He corrected my terminology when describing farm equipment and other little details that most readers wouldn’t notice but were important to him to get right.

But most of all, he loved it. He talked about the characters like they were real people, and he couldn’t believe so and so would say that or how could this character do that? It was incredibly endearing and warmed my topsy-turvy heart along the way.

He did have one major issue with the book, though.

“Mase, it just ends. What happens? Does she stay or go?”

“It’s called a cliffhanger, Miles. This is book one of a four-book series. We can’t wrap it all up in the first book.”

“Well, I now know I don’t like a cliffhanger. It’s so unfair.”

“You’ll just have to wait for book two.”

“As the leader of this here book club, shouldn’t I get special privileges?”

“And what kind of privileges would that be?”

He finally leaves his chair that’s felt so far away all the way over on the other side of the room and joins me on the couch. That was far too long with him so close but too far away to touch. Next to me is where he needs to be.

He scoots me down onto my back and hovers above me playfully pinning me into the spot.

“The kind of privileges where you tell me what happens.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

I lean up to kiss him, but he pulls away.

“No sugar for you until you tell me what happens.” He stands and offers me his hand, pulling me to my feet.

“Miles, you can’t ask an author to give away the ending to their story.”

“But I just did.”

“Well, what if I don’t know the ending yet?”

He wraps his arms around me. “You really don’t know the ending yet?”

All I’m brave enough to do is shrug.

“Hmm…well, how about we go have a beer and see if we can figure out the ending and maybe even a name for the damn book.”

“Don’t you have beer here?”

“Sure do. But it tastes better when Beau pours it.”

Very true.

Fifteen minutes later, our butts are on barstools and full pints of EBC are in our hands.

“Cheers to Katie for getting her gig on Broadway and sending you my way.”

“Cheers to that, indeed.”

We clank our glasses together and take our first sips.

“Here you got a little something right here…”

His tongue finishes his sentence licking the foam off my top lip while his lips write the rest of the paragraph, telling a story of lust, love and forever.

“Thought I wasn’t going to get any sugar until I told you the ending to Tucker and Camille’s story?”

“Baby, how could I not give in to you when we’re here at the scene of the crime?”

“I don’t believe I’ve committed any crimes, Mr. Montgomery.”

He turns my stool so we’re knee to knee and eye to eye.

“City Mouse, the night you walked into this bar, you stole my heart and still haven’t given it back.”

“You probably say that to all the girls you meet in this place.”