Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)

“No. Of course not. Why?”

“She just called me saying she wants to take me out to lunch.”

“What?”

“I know, but she was being pushy and I couldn’t say no.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll call her.”

“N-no,” I stammer. “If you call her now and cancel for me, she’s going to know something is going on between us for sure.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re absolutely positive she knows nothing?” I frown.

“No, and don’t you tell her anything, either.” I scowl to myself. “I can’t lie, Julian. If she asks me if we’re sleeping together then I have to tell her the truth.”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t go if you can’t keep your mouth shut.”

I bite my lip. This is a disaster because I really can’t lie for shit. “You’re certain she doesn’t know?” I ask one final time.

“Bree, my mother is taking you to lunch to milk you for information. She’s as sharp as a whip. Don’t be fooled by her friendly demeanor.”

My eyes widen. “What information?”

“Information on us.”

“Right. So I can’t tell her that we meet in hotels and fuck each other stupid then?”

He chuckles, and the sound permeates through my bones. “Why don’t you tell her that you are pussy whipping her son, and he’s on the verge of needing sectioning because of his sexual addiction to you?”

I smile. “Great idea.”

“I’m looking forward to tonight.” I can tell he’s smiling.

“Me, too.” I flick through the clothes on the rack.

“Wait, I bet I know what she wants to meet you for.” he says, as if he’s suddenly remembering something.

“What?”

“I asked her if the children can stay at her house every Thursday night.”

“Why?” I frown.

“Because I want a whole night with you every week.”

Hope blooms in my chest. “You do?”

“That’s if you’ll have me every week.”

“I’d have you every day if I could, Jules,” I whisper.

“Keep talking like that and you may not be walking for a few days.”

I giggle. “Walking is overrated, anyway.”

“What have you got for me tonight?” he breathes.