The Price of Mason (Forbidden Men 10)

I stared at her, not sure what to say. She was so blasé about the whole thing. It was relieving not to be judged, just as much as it was maddening, because I kind of wanted her to care. I wanted her to be as interested in me as I was in her, therefore she should be resentful of my secret life. It was a strange, contradictory wish, I know, but so was everything else in my life these days. I always felt pulled in two polar opposite directions.

Deciding to be amused, I sniffed out a laugh and shook my head. “You read a lot of Nancy Drew mysteries when you were a kid, didn’t you?”

She wrinkled her nose. “No. I’ve never even read one. Harry Potter is more my style, and yeah, his curiosity got him into trouble a lot too. As you well know.”

But, “No,” I countered, shaking my head. “I’ve never read Harry Potter.”

Gasping, she pressed a hand to her heart. “Are you kidding me? But… Everyone’s read Harry Potter.”

“Not me.”

“But…but…they’re so…amazing. Don’t worry.” She patted my arm and nodded in reassurance. “I have all the books in the series sitting in my apartment. Next time I babysit Sarah, I’ll bring the first one over for you to see what you think.”

God, I liked it when she touched me. And what was worse, she didn’t remove her fingers after the friendly pat. Her flesh began to burn against mine with the most delicious kind of heat. And all I could seem to think about was how good it’d feel if we were touching everywhere with no clothes between us.

I wanted to find out what that would be like with her.

Which was weird. These days, I never had sexual fantasies about women. I mostly just wanted to avoid them. But this girl with her eclectic moods and quirky way made me want.

“I don’t do freebies,” I reminded myself—unfortunately aloud—slowly pulling my arm out from under her hand. “Ever.”

Meaning, I couldn’t do her. And hell, I shouldn’t even talk to her.

“But I wasn’t…” she started, only to roll her eyes and pick up her fork to stab at her salad savagely. When she petulantly muttered, “Whatever,” I realized how she’d probably interpreted my words.

I hadn’t assumed she’d been coming onto me when she’d touched me. I should probably tell her that. But if I let her think I was an ass, maybe she’d keep her distance, because that was safer for both of us.

“What about your personal life, though?” She went on a second later as if I hadn’t just hurt her feelings. “What about dating and—”

When I laughed and shook my head, she scowled at me. “What’s so funny?”

I lifted my eyebrows. She really didn’t get it, did she? “Dating? Personal life? Are you serious? The only girls who sniff around me are willing to pay or they’re looking for free services rendered, which only pisses me off.”

“But—”

“And all you monogamous, relationship-conscious ladies stay as far away from me as possible for obvious reasons.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That can’t be true. I’m sure plenty of—”

“Reese.” I lifted my eyebrows. “Honestly, would you date a…person of my occupation?”

With an apologetic cringe, she mumbled, “Good point.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “Exactly.”

“Well, that’s just sad.” She looked at me as if she wanted to touch me again and comfort me. “You can’t date or have recreational…fun or even fall in love just because you went to drastic measures to save your family?”

“I was eighteen when I fell into this,” I tried to explain. “At the time, I was too young and stupid to think about how it would impact my future…so...” I shrugged. “There you have it. Now I’m stuck.”

“No.” She must be an eternal optimist because she sent me an encouraging smile. “You can’t be stuck. Surely there’s something else you could do to make money. Something legal and…and…”

“Moral?” I suggested dryly.

She pointed, nodding encouragingly, like some kind of life coach. “Yes, and moral. And...”

I laughed and then did the forbidden. I reached out and briefly let my fingers barely drift across the surface of her cheek. “You’re cute, Reese,” I said, mentally making this my farewell speech. “Cheerful. Optimistic. Funny. But completely deluded.” I stood up, forcing myself to finally go. “Thanks for making my sister smile. And thanks for the tomatoes. I’ll see you around.” And I took off before I could mess anything else up.

Confession #13: I usually messed shit up worse when I tried to fix my mistakes.