Our encounter hadn't been friendly.
With a giggle, Livia turned back to Mason and said, "I justloveyour act. I can't believe I didn't recognize you."
Icould.
The so-called act was Mason's regular appearance onBlast, a weekly cable show on the Home Network, where the Blastoviak Brothers used their own tools to remodel older homes or sometimes build new ones.
Already,Blastwas the network's number-one hit show of all time. With its massive ratings and subsequent publicity, it was already a cultural icon, with millions of rabid fans including yours truly, even if I'd never admit this to Mason.
On the show, Mason wore work clothes – T-shirts and flannel mostly, along with jeans that showed off his long legs and tight ass.
Yes, I'd noticed. So sue me, okay?
Just because he was a jerk, that didn't mean I was blind to his appeal. The funny thing was, he looked just as good in flannel as he did in the pricey business suit he was wearing now.
As I watched, Mason turned cold eyes on Livia and said, "An act?"
"Oh,youknow," she giggled. "How you pretend to be such a hard-ass."
As the two of them locked gazes, my eyes dipped lower toward Mason's hips. I couldn’t see his assnow. But I'd seen enough of it on the TV screen to know that it was, in fact, quite firm.Or at least it sure looked that way.
As I eyed his pelvis, my fingers clenched with curiosity. If his asslookedfirm, would itfeelfirm, too?
My pulse quickened.Oh yeah.It definitely would.
Horrified, I jerked my gaze upward.Why was I thinking of his ass? I didn't even like him.And Iknewthe feeling was mutual.
But apparently, Livia liked Mason enough for the both of us. With a playful hip bump, she told him, "But I can tell you're just a big ol' softie on the inside."
I couldn’t help it. I laughed long and hard.
Mason? Soft?
Oh, please.I'd seen bricks with softer edges.
Mason looked to me and said, "You wanna share the joke?"
Under his withering gaze, I stopped laughing. "Not particularly."
Next to him, Livia gave me an accusing look. "Why didn't you laugh like that earlier?"
I wasn't following. "What?"
"Youknow," she said with a sly wink. "When I told you that really funny joke?"
Oh. Then.
My gaze shifted to Mason, and something in his eyes suggested that he knew exactly what Livia was doing. With a look that wasalmostdevious, he turned to her and said, "You wanna share it?"
She swallowed. "What?"
"The joke," he said with no trace of a smile. "Go ahead. Hit me."
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. After a long, awkward silence, she looked to me and suggested, "Why don'tyoutell it?"
I froze. "Um, well…" I knew lots of jokes, but all of them were more suited to grade schoolers than to adults. I'd look totally ridiculous if I repeated any ofthosein a nightclub.
Around us, the music was rocking, glasses were clinking, and people were talking. And yet, my own silence felt loud in comparison. Desperately, I tried to think.A joke, a joke…
