Livvy slept like a rock, and so when her alarm went off, it took her a moment to orient herself. She grappled for her cell phone and pushed STOP on the alarm. She wondered why she’d set her alarm so early, then she remembered. She’d invited Mason to breakfast.
Last night it had seemed like the right thing to do—the best thing—and it was what she wanted to do. This morning... she knew she’d gotten herself into hot water. Could she cancel? Come up with some kind of excuse?
No, she didn’t have his phone number. Besides, she wasn’t Slade. She wasn’t going to cancel on Mason.
They were officially friends now; well, they had been for weeks. And she could meet him for breakfast without any other motive or agenda. If Slade found out, then he found out. Or maybe she’d outright tell him just in case some busybody spotted them at the café and decided to report back to Slade. Well, she’d just own it. Sarah Lynne was probably working there, and she was someone whom Livvy didn’t have to worry about gossiping.
Livvy climbed out of bed and took a quick shower, then she dressed in her black jeans and white-and-black sweater. She pulled on her boots, which had dried overnight. Then she twisted her hair into a clip.
A snowplow rumbled past the house, and Livvy went into the living room to look out the window. Apparently it had stopped snowing, but the sky seemed to promise more. And it was seven forty-five, time for Livvy to start driving. She hoped that Mallory wouldn’t be too mad at her for leaving and not shoveling.
The drive to the café took twenty minutes. Everyone was driving slow, which was good, but Livvy hated to think of Mason at the café wondering if she was really going to show up.
When she walked in, the heat of the café was warm and cozy, and the scent of baking muffins, cinnamon rolls, and coffee was divine. A man sat in the corner, but she didn’t see Mason.
“Hi, Sarah,” she said to the woman at the counter.
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Sarah Lynne said. Her blonde hair was pulled into its usual smooth ponytail.
“Yeah, the library has been keeping me busy,” Livvy said. “We put in a new inventory system last month, and we’re still catching up.”
“Sounds fun,” Sarah teased as she opened the display case. “Want to try some samples?”
“Uh, I’m... meeting someone.” Livvy turned to look toward the entrance, then she did a double take when she focused on the man in the corner. The man was Mason, and he’d... shaved his beard.
He unfolded himself from his chair. “Glad you made the drive okay.”
She stared at him, saying nothing. Livvy could admit she’d grown used to his beard, and that he was a good-looking man with it. Besides, it sort of went with his whole lumberjack persona. His thick plaid shirts, jeans, and heavy boots. But now... “What happened to you?”
His brows shot up, and his baby blues twinkled. “What are you talking about?”
“You know.” She waved her hand as she walked toward him. “Your beard. It’s gone.”
Mason ran his hand over his chin. “Now you miss it?”
Her face heated, and she glanced over at Sarah. Sarah kept her gaze averted, solely focusing on stirring something on the back counter. “I—I don’t miss it,” Livvy said in a low voice. “I mean... did you shave it because of what I said?”
His mouth quirked. “I thought it was time for a new look.”
She rested her hands on her hips. “I didn’t expect you to shave,” she said. “I mean, you looked fine with it.”
“Now you tell me.”
Livvy’s mouth fell open. “You did shave for me.”
He didn’t reply, just kept those blue eyes focused on hers. She stepped forward, and against her better judgement, she reached up and ran her fingers over his smooth jaw. “Did it take a long time?”
“Not that long,” he said.
She felt the vibrations of his voice against her fingertips, and she suddenly became very aware that she was touching his face in a public café, even though Sarah was the only other one in the shop.
Livvy dropped her hand and ignored the butterflies that had erupted inside of her.
“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t recognize him at first either,” Sarah said from behind the counter.
So she had been listening in. Livvy knew her face was red. “You know each other?” she said in a friendly tone, turning to face Sarah.
Sarah’s smile was casual. “Well, he has been coming here for breakfast every morning for the past several weeks.”
Livvy hated that she felt jealous. It was ridiculous to feel that way. Sarah was a pretty woman, divorced with a two-year-old son. She was probably in the dating scene again. And it wasn’t like Livvy owned Mason or anything. She had a boyfriend, for heaven’s sake.
She looked back to Mason and found that his gaze was on her, not Sarah. The tightening in Livvy’s stomach eased a touch. “Hungry?”
“Starving.”
Again. Butterflies. “Great.” Livvy walked to the counter, Mason beside her. “I’ll get the egg croissant and the hot cocoa with extra whipped cream. And then whatever he wants. I’m paying.”
She could hear a smile in Mason’s voice when he said, “I’ll get the same thing.”
Sarah nodded. “Two egg croissants and hot cocoas coming up.” She turned away to start preparing the food.
Livvy and Mason walked back to the table in the corner, closest to the window that overlooked Main Street. The traffic was starting to build up, and Livvy noticed that most of the shops had already decorated for Christmas although it wasn’t even Thanksgiving.
Livvy folded her hands on top of the table to keep from fidgeting. Her gaze strayed to the window, mostly so that she wouldn’t keep staring at Mason’s clean-shaven face.
She was sure there would be plenty of customers who’d come into the café and see her with Mason. So she wanted to mentally prepare herself to tell Slade before he heard it from someone else. As if on cue, the door jangled, and two people walked in. It was an older couple that Livvy had seen about town over the past year. She didn’t recall their names, so she just nodded.
“So what do you usually order here?” Livvy asked, glancing at Mason.
He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “Coffee and bagels. Sometimes a muffin. Haven’t tried the egg croissant before.”
“Then you’re in for a treat,” she said.
He nodded. “I cook eggs for dinner—some sort of omelet. I don’t have very refined cooking skills.”
“I’m not much of a cook either,” she said. “My roommate, Mallory, will make main dishes, and I’ve become pretty adept at the side dishes.”
Sarah appeared then, bringing their food and drinks.
Livvy tamped down the unreasonable envy she felt when Sarah smiled at Mason as he thanked her. Livvy had Mr. Dreamy Doc. Why should she be critical of Sarah or Mason, or the fact that Mason saw Sarah every morning? He had to eat somewhere.
While Livvy was wrapped up in her swirling thoughts, Mason started eating the egg croissant. “Mm. This is good.”
Focus, Livvy. “Glad you like it.” She took her own bite, then sipped the hot cocoa. It was a little too hot still, and she reached for the water glass that Sarah had also thoughtfully delivered.
“I haven’t had cocoa in a long time,” Mason said. “My mom used to make it when I was a kid.”
Livvy liked that Mason was talking about himself without being prompted. She wondered if he took after his dad or his mom. “Are your parents still in Colorado?”
“Sort of,” he said. He used a napkin to wipe his mouth, and Livvy looked away from his lips. “They’ve both passed away, but they’re buried in my hometown.”
Oh. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Livvy said. She was at loss for what else to say.
Mason didn’t seem to mind the intrusion though. “My mom got breast cancer when I was a teenager. She had a phobia of doctors and hospitals, so she didn’t get diagnosed until she was stage four.”
“I had no idea,” Livvy said in a quiet voice. She thought of her vibrant mother, who was still running half-marathons; Livvy had never really caught the running bug. Mason’s mother must have been quite young when she died.
“My dad was never the same,” Mason continued. “He was the high school basketball coach where I played and went to school, and we were already at odds with each other most of the time. Our relationship only deteriorated after my mom died. A few years ago, he had a massive heart attack.”
Livvy covered her mouth.
“I can’t say I was surprised that he died that way,” Mason said in a matter-of-fact tone. “He lived with a lot of anger for a long time. It finally caught up with him.”
“What was he angry about?” She lowered her hand. “Your mother’s death?”
“He was angry he didn’t make her see the doctor sooner,” Mason said. “He was angry when she refused chemotherapy. He was angry when I fouled out in games, and when I did it during the state championship, he never let go of his grudge. He was angry when I accepted an athletic scholarship to play basketball out of state. He hated traveling, you see. His back hurt too much to make a long drive and he hated flying. Claustrophobic.”
“Did he ever come to your games?” she asked in a hesitant tone.
“Two games, ones that were played in neighboring states.” Mason shrugged. “Then I blew my knee out.”
He might have been acting nonchalant, and several years might have passed, but the pain was still evident in his eyes. Livvy wondered who’d helped him through the deaths of each of his parents?
“Hey there,” a man said behind Livvy, interrupting the somber spell that had settled over their table.
Livvy turned to see Dawson Harris. “Hi, Dawson.” She ran into him once in a while, and when she’d first moved here, she once thought he was going to ask her out. But he never did, and Livvy had no regrets. She wasn’t really into lawyer types. Especially now that she knew what he’d said to Mason about staying away from her, courtesy of Slade.
Dawson grinned as if he was happier than a Cheshire cat seeing her sitting with Mason. “Nice to see you again, Mason.”
“Is it?” Mason said, his smile equally brassy.
Livvy wanted to kick both men. “Any big court cases today, Dawson?” she said to diffuse the situation.
Dawson lifted one of his eyebrows. “Not until two. Grabbing a bite to eat before some client meetings.”
“Well, good luck this afternoon,” Livvy said, pointedly dismissing him.
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Dawson nodded to Mason, then continued on his way to order at the counter.
“If he sits near us, I’m leaving,” Livvy said under her breath.
Mason’s brows popped up. “You really don’t like him?”
“I don’t like what he said to you in the gym the other day.”
This time, Mason’s smile was genuine. “You’re defending me?”