The Price of Mason (Forbidden Men 10)

Mom glanced between us before her brow wrinkled with concern. “Sarah had a seizure? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” I rushed to reassure her. “She seemed lucid and alert after it was over. We read some Harry Potter together before she went to bed.”

“Good.” With a tired sigh, Mom rubbed her forehead. “Thanks for being here, Reese.” She sent Reese a sympathetic wince. “Poor dear, you still look shaken. Your eyes are red and swollen.”

When Reese glanced down shyly, I slid an arm around her and pulled her close. “I’m going to drive her home. Her friend called and needed to borrow her car, so she needs a ride.”

Reese’s face popped up and she ogled me as if I’d lost my mind, but she still didn’t contradict me, so I kept on with the path I wanted to take, which was to never leave her side again.

I returned my attention to my mom. “Thanks for checking on me, though.”

Mom seemed rattled by that. “Uh…” Not sure how to respond and always uncomfortable when it came to too much mother-son bonding, she nodded and immediately started backing toward the doorway. “Yeah. Sure.” And…she was gone, leaving Reese and me time to crawl out of bed so I could find some damn pants.

“I can’t believe you just totally lied to her,” she hissed, keeping her voice low as she watched me tug on a pair of jeans.

“I didn’t lie,” I hissed back. “Sarah really did have an attack, and I really did calm you down afterward. Just…not tonight.”

With a snort, she rolled her eyes, only to end it with a grin. “It’s scary how smooth you can lie.”

God, I loved that smile. She always managed to help me find joy, no matter what was happening.

I smiled back and grabbed her hand so I could kiss her knuckles. “Only on Fridays.”

Pushing my feet into some shoes, I kept hold of her fingers and laced them through mine before leading her from the room and down the hall toward the kitchen, where Mom was getting some tea to drink.

Mom raised her eyebrows as if she thought we wanted to say something more than a farewell.

Reese surprised me by letting go of my hand and stepping toward her only to throw her arms around my mother in a big hug. “I just want you to know you have some amazing children.”

Mom and I exchanged a wide-eyed glance over Reese’s shoulder before she seemed to hug Reese back and patted her arm. “I do, don’t I?”

After the night we’d just had, the fact that Reese wanted to call me amazing made me love her even more, all the while my guilt soared.

If only she knew everything I’d ever lied about, would she still think I was so awesome? Would she understand why I’d altered the truth all those times, or would she finally hate me as I probably deserved?

“And I know they’re both very fond of you too,” Mom murmured as she pulled away.

Fond was such a mild word for all the things Sarah and I felt for Reese. But for now, it worked.

I recaptured Reese’s hand and told my mom, “I’ll be back in the morning.”

Reese gaped up at me, tripping when I started us out the back door, tugging her along without warning. “Mason!” she gasped as soon as we were outside. “Oh my God. I can’t believe you just told her that.”

“What?” I sent her a smirk. “I thought you didn’t want me to lie to her.”

“But now she’s going to think we’ll be having sex all night.”

I shrugged, picturing it, even though I knew it wouldn’t happen. “Well… A guy can dream, can’t he?”

She backhanded my shoulder, but then her gaze drifted toward the landlady’s house. I hurried her more quickly toward my Jeep. She was still staring fixedly at Patricia’s place by the time I climbed into the driver’s seat next to her.

When I murmured her name, she finally looked over. “I hate her,” she said. “I really, really hate her.”

I sniffed out a sad smile and kissed her forehead. “That makes two of us.”

I wondered if it would be more merciful to tell her the truth, or if it even mattered at this point. Not wanting to load a new worry—like her ex-boyfriend—on her tonight, I started the engine and backed us from the driveway.

We didn’t say anything else about Patricia. Then again, neither of us talked at all. Worried that silence meant something bad, I blurted the first thing that came to my mind.