Blitz: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy (Blast Brothers Book 3), стр. 30
I didn't get it. My dad might be a little old-fashioned in some ways, but he'd never acted like this before. And he knew I wasn't a virgin. He had to know, because my mom knew, and they told each other everything.
Plus, I was a grown woman. Until just a couple of weeks ago, I'd been living in my own place, where I could've done just about anything with anyone.
When my dad's only reply was a sullen look, I added, "I think I'd remember if Chase Blastoviak tried to kiss me."
Boy, would I ever.
In fact, I could almost imagine it. He had a nice mouth and a terrific smile. If someone smiled that good, they'd surely be a great kisser, right?
My mom asked, "So, what are the details?"
I was still thinking about Chase's lips – and maybe a few other parts. Absently, I replied, "Sorry, what?"
"The sponsorship," my mom said. "You said it's for the Tomato Festival and a hundred other things?"
"Right," I said. "Other festivals. It's a huge ad blitz."
"How huge?"
"Actually," I said, "we didn't get into the specifics."
My dad asked, "So how do you know he's legit?"
What kind of question was that? "You know he's legit. You even watch his show."
In the living room, my dad looked far from convinced. "You get anything in writing?"
"Not yet," I admitted. "But I'm meeting with him tomorrow afternoon." I smiled. "Trust me, it'll be great."
Or at least I sure hoped it would be great.
With Chase Blastoviak, I never quite knew.
Chapter 27
Chase
In my condo, the sound of knocking jolted me awake. Earlier, I'd fallen asleep on the sofa while binge-watching something forgettable on the TV.
The TV was still on, but the volume was on low. I gave the screen another glance and decided that the show looked just as dull as it had when I'd dozed off.
I sat up and glanced at the nearby clock. The time was just past midnight, and I'd been asleep for maybe two hours.
Alone.
By choice.
What the fuck?
I was wearing jeans, but no shirt. No shoes or socks either.
At the door, my visitor pounded again.
Shit.
I knew the knock.
It was Mason. And judging from the sound, he was royally pissed.
But hey, what else was new?
And it's not like I hadn't been warned.
It had been at least six hours since I'd talked to Brody, and I hadn't heard anything since – not from him or Mason.
Now, judging from the racket, I was about to hear plenty. About what, I had no idea.
I stood and reached for the remote. I flicked off the TV and ambled toward the noise. Any other visitor would simply use the doorbell. But not Mason.
It was like the guy liked pounding on my door.
I pulled it open and said, "Can I help you?"
He greeted me with a familiar frown. "What the fuck?"
"And your point is…?"
Like myself, Mason was tall and muscular, with dark hair and dark eyes. Tonight, he was wearing jeans and a dark jacket. With a hard look, he asked, "You got something you want to tell me?"
I shrugged. "I dunno. Do I?"
He shoved his way past me and headed toward the living room. Over his shoulder he said, "Get rid of her."
I looked around. "Who?"
"How should I know?" he said. "Just tell her to leave, so we can talk in private."
Finally, I got what he meant.
Now, this was fucking embarrassing.
I was home alone. And I'd been alone for at least a couple of months. Even the few times I had gone out, it had been for business, not pleasure.
But hell if I'd be explaining myself to Mason. With a scoff that he'd never understand, I told him, "She already left."
Yeah, a couple of months ago.
I couldn’t even remember who "she" was. A blonde, brunette, maybe a redhead. Lately, the faces had been running together, like a movie played in double-time.
From the look on Mason's face, he wasn't buying it. He glanced toward the master bedroom and asked, "Do I need to check?"
"Check what?"
He made a sound of irritation. "Your bed."
I gave him a look. Asshole.
Already, I'd had enough of his shit. And he should know better.
Even if I did have a guest, I wouldn't be tossing her out just because he said so.
I replied, "Sure, if I can check yours."
His jaw clenched. "What?"
"You wanna check my bedroom? Be my guest. But I'll be doing the same to you."
He practically growled, "Just try it."
As if I would. Not too long ago, Mason had gotten engaged to someone a lot nicer than himself. I liked her. Hell, everyone liked her.
But that didn't mean I wanted to see her naked.
Sure, she was cute and all, but even I had some sense of decency.
Some.
Just not much.
As far as Mason, I hadn't seen him this angry since last year – meaning all of last year, until Cami.
Before her, he used to be in a shitty mood all the time.
These days, he was positively jolly in comparison.
Except for now.
So either the thing with the fiancée had gotten old, or something was seriously yanking his chain.
Just to be a dick, I asked, "Problems at home?"
His frown deepened. "What?"
I made a show of looking at the nearby clock. "Well it is midnight."
"So?"
"So she kicked you out, huh?" I gave a casual shrug. "Can't say I'm surprised."
It was a joke in more ways than one. His fiancée was a sweetheart, and the truth was, I couldn’t see Mason getting kicked out of anything, much less his own home.
He was too stubborn for that.
In reply, he tossed a big black book onto the coffee table. It hit with a thud, and I gave myself a mental kick for not noticing it when he first came in.
Probably, he'd tucked under his arm, but that was no excuse. I was seriously off my game.
I spared the book half a glance. "What's that?"
Mason's mouth tightened. "As if you don't know."
I turned and gave the book a longer look. He'd tossed it face down, so all I could see was the