The Price of Mason (Forbidden Men 10)

But I said, “Yes,” anyway, because I still had some hope inside me, praying that she might want to stay with my after all this.

“Then I’ll clean you,” she answered on a smart nod as if it were as simple as that.

She took my hand and led me to the back bathroom, the one where the doorknob was still broken because I’d never gotten around to fixing it.

But that didn’t deter her either. She merely shut the door, closing us into the snug bathroom alone together, and then she picked up the wire toilet paper bin only to plunk it in front of the door, just under the knob to keep it shut.

I blinked, stunned by her ingenuity. “What a good idea,” I murmured in a daze. “Why hadn’t I ever thought to do that?”

She looked up and actually smiled. “Because you need me around to show you the right way.”

A truer sentence had never been spoken. I’d needed her around in order to get a different perspective on things, a fresh outlook. She probably could’ve gotten me out of all kinds of shit I’d gotten myself tangled in, come up with escape plans that had never even occurred to me.

Wincing, I wished I’d gone to her with more problems instead of trying to fix them all in my own stupid, bumbling way.

“I should’ve listened to you,” I croaked. “I shouldn’t have gone over there. I shouldn’t have—”

“Shh.” Nodding to me as if asking me to trust her, she reached for my shirt and slowly began to draw it up. “No more regrets. What’s done is done, and we’re not going to think about it again.”

I lifted my arms for her, trusting her implicitly, even as I asked, “What’re you doing?”

“I’m giving you a shower. I told you I was going to clean you, and—”

She cut off abruptly, staring at my chest as she exposed it, her gaze wide with horror.

“What?” Frowning, I looked down to see the hickey Patricia had given me, the red spot still bright and swollen on my upper right pec. Gagging at the sight, I slapped my hand over it to hide it as I looked up at Reese.

I wanted to tell her it was okay, nothing more than this had happened, but by this point, would she even believe me? She’d just stared at a very real piece of evidence that said something most definitely had happened.

God, had I just lost my chance to tell her the truth?

Panic overwhelmed me. I turned away and dropped to my knees, emptying my stomach into the toilet. As my guts heaved, Reese filled a cup of water for me and she silently handed it over as soon as I sat back on my haunches, finished. In her other hand, she held a toothbrush with toothpaste on it.

She was seriously a goddess.

“Thank you,” I mumbled humbly.

As I rinsed and brushed my teeth, holding my arm over the hickey the entire time to hide it, Reese murmured, “I’ll get your shower water warm.”

I glanced at her as she opened the shower stall door.

“Are you really going to stay in here while I shower?” I asked, blinking at her.

She started the water. “I said I was going to clean you.”

Water splattered her arms as she adjusted the temperature.

Not wanting her to leave, anyway, I shrugged and dropped my pants. Then I stepped out of my jockey shorts.

Once she was satisfied with her shower preparations, she met my gaze, looking straight into my eyes. Her gaze never once strayed down. “I suppose I can let you do this part by yourself.”

I

studied her eyes, not sure what was happening here, what she was thinking, what she needed from me. She was being nice—too nice. I didn’t deserve it. But I found that it was the only thing I needed right now. Maybe, for her own reasons, she needed it too.

I nodded my thanks and stepped into the shower, shutting the door and immediately setting to work scrubbing my right pec clean.

I cleaned everything Patricia had touched about five times, and everything else twice. By the time I finished and turned the water off, opening the door, Reese was sitting on the closed toilet seat, waiting with a change of clean clothes for me.