Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ainsley

I shower, dress, and brace myself for the first morning with Mason's mother and stepfather in my house. When we got back from the airport, they excused themselves and went to bed. Today is another story. I have no idea if she's an early bird or a night owl or if I should approach her with caution before she takes her first sip of coffee.

I'm worrying about nothing. She is in bed, and by the time she wakes up, I'll be long gone. I'll make a pot of coffee, write a note about my schedule, and head to work.

No such luck.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee envelops me as I set foot inside the kitchen. The nook table has four placemats, silverware, glasses, and mugs. A pitcher of orange juice that makes my mouth salivate sits in the center beside a platter of… rice?

Mina's smile greets me. She holds a large spoon and is standing in front of the stove. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, and she wears a buttercup color tracksuit with a pair of black running shoes. Behind her, pots and pans are steaming, and the aroma isn't the typical blueberry stack of pancakes or sausage and eggs.

"Did I wake you, Ainsley?" Her head tilts at the microwave.

Five forty-five.

"No, I wake up early most days." Yes, at six so I can be out of the house before seven and arrive at work before seven-thirty. Details. The jitters of having her here might've influenced the change of schedule.

"Umm, do you need help with… the food?" Well, that wasn't smooth, but it sounded better than blurting out if she was planning on feeding the neighborhood.

"I hope you don't mind me barging in here to make breakfast. I wanted to do something in exchange for your hospitality."

My knees unlock. Her sweetness soothes my tense and sweaty body. I might not have to take a second shower after all. Captivated by what she calls breakfast, my legs unglue themselves from the floor. Soup, green spinach salad with sesame seeds, and some yellow log-roll eggs?

"What is that?"

"Tamagoyaki—fried rolled eggs."

There are different bottles of condiments on my countertop. Marin sauce, soy sauce, sesame dressing. Miso paste? Did she travel with them?

"Do you cook?"

"Sure, nothing fancy, but I do. Between our housekeeper and my parents, they taught me to prepare several dishes." I don't add the part that it's hard to find good food at restaurants that won't send my glucose levels out of whack. Nor inform her that her delicious food might not be safe for me. Not many people take that objectively.

"During the week, I'll teach you to make some of Ichiro's favorites."

"Ichiro?" The big meal lost its brightness, and my new interest goes to that name. Mr. Daugherty's name is Demetri. Not Ichiro.

"That's his name… Mason Ichiro Hiroshi Bradley." She gives me an innocent smile. "A family tradition. His father demanded to add an English name. I'm Mina Amaya Hachi. At home, my family and I call him Ichiro. The first son."

Before I can ask for baby pictures and embarrassing anecdotes, the doorbell rings. Strange. When I open the door, I find Ichiro. Clean-shaven, a new T-shirt, and smelling woodsy. "Hi. I thought you wouldn't come until later." I press my lips to his. "And why ring the bell? That's what keys are made for—opening doors."

"You leaving early?" He scans me from head to toe, ignoring the key comment. "I like that schoolgirl skirt. We can have a few scenarios rolling with that and the beret."

Mason adjusts it.

"Yes, naughty teacher." His gaze drops to my legs, and I fluster as he licks his lips. "Garter?"

"None of your business," I whisper. "Your mother is in the kitchen, Ichiro." I march back to the safe harbor of his mom.

"What else did you tell her, Mother?" He narrows his eyes at the back of her head.

Mina is serving the soup in bowls. I make myself useful and take them to the table.

"Nothing, Ichiro. You interrupted my time with your mom."

"I thought you had to work early today, Son." His mom finally turns around. "That's why you left the house about an hour ago."

I close my eyes and bite my lip. He swore she wouldn't notice that he stayed all night. Oh shit, we made a hell of a lot of noise.

"An emergency, Mom. All was taken care of." He envelops me in a hug and rubs my back. "I freed my schedule for you and Damian."

"Dimitri," I mumble.

"I don't care," he whispers.

"I have a few places I want to go, including the market." She signals for us to sit at the table. "Your house doesn't have some of the ingredients I need, and I want to teach Ainsley how to prepare your favorite food," Mina says with a soft smile, and my mind wants to take that as an approval.

An approval I might lose when she realizes I can't eat all these foods. The alternative is to sneak next door and make myself something. A bowl of oatmeal? My parents don't leave anything perishable while they travel, but their pantry is always full.

"Also, a visit to Milli would be nice, Ichiro."

"Milli?" His chin drops to his chest, and I'm waiting to find out who this Milli is and why he doesn't look excited about it. "Does that include the entire family, Mom?"

"Yes."

Being a bystander inside my own home doesn't excite me, but I can't say much about it.

"Let me make a few arrangements, Mom."

"Not tomorrow. I want to cook with Ainsley. Plan around it."

Do I want to cook with her? It shouldn't be much different from cooking with Grandma, my aunts, or Coco. Unless she starts hating me for some reason. Yes, that terrifies me.

"Well, you two figure out your days. I have to go." I spring out of my chair, grab a few strawberries from the refrigerator, and rush to the closet for my coat and messenger bag.

"Coward," Mason says, leaning against the door with a lopsided grin.

"Do you need me to take some time off, Mase?" Maybe I could take Friday and Monday. We can spend a four-day weekend with his mother and Dimitri.

"Nah, we should leave for Vancouver in a couple of days." He holds my coat, and I slip it on. "By the time she finishes visiting family, she'll return home. We'll be out of your hair for the next week and a half."

Out of my hair? I wanted to visit longer with her, find out about his secrets. The embarrassing moments of his life.

"Sorry about what she said." My brows merge together, and my lips twist to the left because I don't understand. "This being my house."

Ours. I want to talk about that subject but not today. Like everything I don't want to discuss, I shrug it away.

"Call me on your way to the music school, Nine."

"I love you," I tell him. I step on my tiptoes and feather him with tiny kisses along his jaw.

"Did you eat?" I shake my head. "Nine?"

"I'm going next door. My parents have their pantry full of healthy food," I whisper. "I couldn't tell her, sorry. It's just too much."

"I'll talk to her." His voice makes my entire body shiver. "It's important that she knows you can't feast on her delicacies the same way I do."

"Don't worry, we can do that later." I kiss him on the lips, but he doesn't return it. "Plus, I know how to care for myself. You should know that by now."

My hug isn't returned, and I raise my chin slightly to find his gaze. Something happened between his arrival and this moment that changed him—his attitude. I rest my hand on top of his chest, feeling his heart's rhythm. I send a hopeful wish to it. Please don't break my heart.