If he’d been in the city, Mason would have gone to the dingy, disgusting, little cinema that had movies running twenty-four hours a day. Of course, he’d also already thought, if he was in the city he wouldn’t be there arguing with a s*x worker.
Instead, he’d driven around back roads until he’d got himself lost, then spent two hours trying to find his way back. And once he’d got back, all Mason wanted to do was pull out of the driveway and go drive some more.
Frustrated, he dropped his forehead against the steering wheel and stared at the cottage. He had an unquenchable urge to call Greg. Which he actually might have caved to if, for one, he hadn’t forgotten his cell phone when he’d stormed out like an irate teenager and, two, if his mind’s eye didn’t keep offering him up the image of Jac
