Her stomach clenched. “You can’t miss a game.”
He shrugged. “They’d understand it’s not my fault. I warned thecoach that I’d be returning today, and I can prove I made all the arrangements to get me back in time. I might pay a penalty, but I’d survive.”
Except it was also Denny’s first game back, and if Mason skipped, everyone would think he did it on purpose.
“I’m not planning to miss the game,” he said, turning to kiss the top of her head. “If our ride’s not here in thirty minutes, I’ll find another way.”
He pulled out his phone. “Yep, still no signal, but worst case, we’ll boat out a bit and get one. See what’s—”
He stopped and started tapping his phone.
“Mace?”
“I have a partially downloaded email,” he said. “It seems to have come in last night when we must have had signal for a bit. It’s from the private charter that’s supposed to fly us to LA and—Fuck.”
He ran a hand through her hair. “Well, it looks like we’re getting that extra day after all. They canceled the charter.”
“What?” she said.
He held out the phone. The email warned that it had only partially downloaded, but what she could see was enough.
Mr. Moretti,
I just realized we’re double-booked in the morning. The other client reserved their flight earlier, so unfortunately, they take precedence. I’ve rescheduled your boat pickup for the following morning at 5:30, with your flight now departing
It ended there.
Oh no.
Gemma’s gut clenched. Someone in the charter office screwed up, and their flight had been canceled with only a few hours’ notice. And the charter had helpfully canceled their boat, too, meaning they couldn’t get to the mainland and rebook on another plane.
Mason shrugged. “Nothing we can do.” His smile was tight, but he only said, “My coach will understand. We’ll drive the boat out later and find a signal, and I’ll give him a heads-up. Take my licking.”
When she didn’t respond, he squeezed her shoulders as he stood. “It really is okay, Gem. I’ll just be told I shouldn’t cut it so close. Now, do you want coffee? Or a sunrise swim first?”
“Mason?”
He looked down at her. “Don’t worry. Really. You might find this hard to believe, but I am Mr. Responsibility on the team. Never miss a game. Never miss a practice. Never even show up late. The coach—and the owners—know that.”
“It’s not…” Her stomach lurched. “Oh God, Mace. I screwed up. I really screwed up.”
He frowned at her. Then his eyes widened. “Shit. Do you have someplace you need to be tomorrow? I never thought of that.” He cursed under his breath. “Asshole move, right? Only thinking of myself.”
“No, this time I’m the asshole. I wasn’t thinking of myself—I swear I wasn’t—but I made a decision for you, and that was wrong and…”
She couldn’t get the rest of the words out. He was there, holding her arms as if to keep her from falling over. The beach swayed, and sweat broke out on her forehead.
“Gemma? You’re kinda scaring me. What’s wrong?”
She looked up into his face, dark with worry, and she tried to push the words out.
Denny’s coming back. This is his first game.
When nothing came, she fumbled for her phone. “Al—my ex—emailed.”
Mason exhaled, as if in relief. “Okay. So he’s being a jerk.” He stopped. “Or is it something else? The divorce wasn’t finalized?”
She shook her head and mutely held out the email.
