Relentless (Mason Family 4)

“No. But Lisbeth does, and she’s volunteered to bring me three choices tonight to try on.”

He shakes his head.

I bring my feet up and tuck them beneath me.

The setting sun outside Nate’s office window casts a soft, warm glow throughout the room. It matches the vibe I’ve felt since I left the office this afternoon. Even before then. And a lot has to do with the scorching, panty-melting kiss Oliver and I shared earlier.

I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that—hot, urgent, desperate. Sweet, tender, honest. Oliver made me feel wanted and desired and beautiful. The kiss reminded me that there’s still a spark deep inside me that can be lit by the right person. I was afraid it might’ve been extinguished for good.

But most importantly, the one thing that fills me with a giddiness that feels incredible is the way his words gave me so much confidence in the thought of us. Or whatever that might be.

Nate picks up on it and leans back in his chair. “What?”

“What, what?”

“What’s with all of this?” He makes a circle in the air with his finger. “You’re … happy.”

I smile. “It’s not a felony to be happy, you know.”

“I know that. It’s just weird.”

“Just be happy for me!”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re annoying when you’re happy.” Despite the words, he grins too. “Tell me why you’re Little Miss Sunshine all of a sudden.”

I wish I could.

If I try to put into words what I’m feeling—like maybe, just maybe, things might be starting to go my way—I’ll jinx myself.

It’s happened before.

Nate scowls. “I don’t care how happy you are at Mason Limited—you are not quitting me. I’ll fight him.”

“You aren’t fighting anyone, pretty boy.”

“Me?” He lifts his arms that are dotted with tattoos and flexes. “I’m hardly a pretty boy.”

My body bounces as I laugh. And it feels good.

I’d forgotten how nice it is to have a normal day. To have a day when things just magically work out and you don’t have a knife twisting in your stomach every ten seconds. To spend an afternoon with a little spring in your step because hope is starting to drift in on the fog that’s clouded your life for months. Years, even.

“You’re right, though. I’m not quitting you.” I blow him a kiss. “You’ll have me for … however long it takes to pay off a one-hundred-thousand-dollar debt. Oliver is paying me well, but not that well.”

Nate narrows his eyes. “Oliver, huh?”

“Yeah. Oliver.”

He nods suspiciously. “I get it now.”

I put my feet back on the floor. “You get what?”

“Nothing.”

“Nate.”

He shakes his head before holding it in his hands. His reaction to my sunshine, as he calls it, definitely puts a damper on my spirits.

I scoot to the edge of the sofa. “Nate.”

He looks up and sighs. “Look, I’m happy for you. If anyone deserves to find a good, rich dude, it’s you.”

“His money has nothing to do with anything. Besides—”

“Shaye? Shut up.” He smiles, but it’s restrained. “I know you don’t want him for his money.”

“I don’t know if I even want him. I just know that it’s … fun right now. It’s nice to have someone look at you and not just see the mess behind you. It’s like I’m a different person.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the you from before.”

I reach for his knee and give it a little shake. “Thanks, pal.”

“You know what I mean.”

He knocks my hand away, making me laugh.

“This is the first guy you’ve taken a liking to,” Nate says. “Just go slow. Be careful.”

“Yes, Father.”

He scowls. “I mean it. You have no dating experience, and you decide to date this guy.”

My cheeks flush. “We aren’t dating.”

“Okay. You decide to fuck this dude.”

“Nate!”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay. You decide to have a Pepsi with this guy—whatever you want to call it. I don’t give a shit. But this guy is used to getting what he wants. And men like that—who practically rule the universe—can get out of pocket sometimes.”

I think of Oliver getting out of pocket, as Nate suggested, and I can’t see it. He’s too kind. Too thoughtful. Too communicative. If I saw anything in him that even resembled Luca, I wouldn’t have even taken the job.

“He’s not like that,” I tell Nate.

Nate stills, watching me closely. Finally, a hint of a smile threatens to part his lips. “I hope he’s not. I hope he’s your prince or whatever girls want.”

“Thanks.”

“But if he’s not, tell him—promise him—that I will rip his throat out and feed it to him.”

I jump to my feet and smack him on the shoulder. “You are a barbarian.”

He smiles sheepishly. “You’ll thank me for it when I’m protecting your virtue.”

I rub the top of his head and head toward the door.

“You need anything? For the gala?” he asks, mocking me.

I turn around and look at him. My heart swells.