The Bad Guy

12 - Beauty

It was the third night in a row that I had the house to myself. Mason was always working or running errands, and he usually slipped in late and was gone early. I didn't mind. I enjoyed the peace and quiet and had developed my own routine over the last few weeks. I spent most of my time getting lost in books or cleaning. It was surprising how much dust could gather on items around such an expansive space.

There was a knock at the door, and I hurried down the staircase, dancing to a song that had been stuck in my head for weeks. Pulling open the door, I was greeted by a man nearly as large as Mason. His hair was a short, chocolate brown, and he had a dazzling megawatt smile that practically glowed against his naturally tanned skin.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

His russet eyes narrowed for a moment like he was surprised to see me. "Is Mason home?"

"No. He's at the club, I think. He should be back soon."

He took a step toward me, and I instinctively stepped backward, allowing him room to walk inside. "You're here all by yourself?"

I followed behind him as his gaze went up to the second floor. He stopped as he entered the dining room and turned back to face me.

"I didn't catch your name."

"Hunter. And you are?"

"Annabelle." I stuck my hand out, and he took it in his.

"I didn't know Mason was seeing anyone. He's always had good taste."

"Oh, I'm not," I stuttered. "We're friends. Roommates, really. I honestly barely –" I cleared my throat, letting my words taper off. I had a terrible habit of rambling when I was nervous.

"Well, in that case, maybe you and I could go out sometime, and I could fill you in on all the juicy secrets about Mason." He leaned in closer as he spoke before winking. "I know more than most about him."

I laughed nervously and pulled my hand from his. "Yeah, maybe. I haven't been in town long, so it would be nice to have someone show me around."

"It's a date. Mason has my number. You can get it from him. Let him know I stopped by, okay?"

"Yeah, of course."

I followed behind him and opened the front door. He stepped out before turning around to give me one last smile. "It was nice to meet you, Annabelle."

***

For the most part, I'd been able to avoid the hellish nightmares from my past by staying up as late as I possibly could, lost in a book. If I exhausted myself enough, my mind didn't want to dwell.

I only had three chapters left of my latest novel when I heard the front door. I shoved from my bed, and I walked to the railing that overlooked the entryway. I was about to call out Mason's name when I heard a female voice. I took a step back as I watched him place his hand on the side of her throat, looking down at her. He said something that I couldn't decipher, but she seemed pleased to hear whatever it was. I was used to hearing women in the house at all hours of the night, but I was usually already in bed. This was the first time I'd caught a glimpse of Mason in action.

Grabbing his shirt by the hem, he yanked it over his head. She gasped, or maybe it was me. The sight of Mason without his shirt on never got old, and he knew it. The man would walk around naked all the time if he could get away with it.

He told me the other day that he hated having to wear his boxer briefs just to start the coffee in the morning. Part of me wanted to say to him he didn't need to bother; I didn't want to put him out. But Mason Locke was out of my league. Hell, we didn't even play the same game, and the last thing I wanted to do was screw things up with the guy who'd taken me in when I needed help the most. But a little looking couldn't hurt anything, right?