Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)

“The cat can go with them.”

He shakes his head. “No.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine.”

The waitress comes over and we order the meals and drinks, and then she disappears through the crowd once more.

“What do you want to do all weekend then?” he asks.

“Whatever you want.”

His eyes darken as they hold mine. “Whatever I want isn’t on the menu at home.”

“Why not?”

He shakes his head. “Because it needs to be kept separate.”

“Why?”

“It just does.”

The kids bounce back to the table, interrupting our conversation, and we fall quiet again.

I watch the bucking bull trying to throw somebody off. “Who wants to come watch me ride that bucking bull?” I ask.

Julian’s face falls.

“Yes,” both kids squeal.

I stand. “Come on then.”

“You’re not going on that death trap, Bree. I forbid it,” he suddenly snaps. “Sit back down this minute.”

“It’s completely safe.” I huff.

He glances over at it as it picks up speed, and he shakes his head in a panic. “No. No. You’re not allowed. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I’m not going to get hurt, pussy boy.” I smirk as I walk off, watching the kids rush ahead.

He stands abruptly. “Bree!” he barks.

I turn to him. “What?”

“Please. I really don’t want you to go on it.”

“Look at you, getting all protective.”

“This isn’t funny.”

I grin. “Yeah, it kind of is. Loosen up, Jules.”

He exhales heavily and follows me down the steps. “I’m not taking you to the hospital if you die.”

“Good. I would expect to be taken to the mortuary anyway.” I smile. “Christ all fucking mighty.”

Ten minutes later, I’m sitting on the bucking bull as it begins to slowly circle. Willow and Sammy are bouncing up and down, but Julian looks like he is about to throw up. I give them a wave and laugh out loud.

“Go, Brell!” Willow shouts.