The Price of Mason (Forbidden Men 10)

“Did you ever like it?” she asked. “The things you did with us?”

“Um...” I paused, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

Her husband sighed. “That’s what we feared. Make us a promise then, will you, Mason?”

“Okay,” I uttered, wincing over what they might want me to do. Just try it one more time; you might like it if we did this or that instead. That was not a promise I would keep.

“Never do anything like that again unless it’s what you actually want to do, okay?” Mrs. Scharper insisted, sounding like a scolding mother.

Oh, thank God. A promise I could keep…and wanted to keep.

I nodded, a relieved smile wavering on my lips. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t.” For some reason, I blurted, “I have a girlfriend now. That’s why I stopped. I...she… Everything’s changed.”

Mr. Scharper sounded amused when he murmured, “Things usually do whenever you find the right woman.”

“She is,” I said, smiling with pride.

“Good, good.” Then his wife asked, “Does she know? About what you were?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I mean, she knows a lot. Not...everything.” Hopefully, they didn’t think I’d broken my confidentiality agreement I’d signed with them. But then I went on, needing to talk about it, I guess. I don’t know why I spilled so much to two people who were basically strangers, but they’d called, concerned, so it just came out. “I feel guilty about not telling her some things, but then... I don’t know. I worry about how much she can handle hearing.”

“You should tell her,” Mrs. Scharper said decisively. “If this is going to be your life partner and you want her to trust you with everything, you need to trust her with everything in return, the good and the bad. If you know you can trust her, then it’ll be okay, and you’ll end up feeling better afterward. I have a feeling you’ll be surprised with how much she can actually take hearing. Open, honest communication is the key to any relationship.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “Thank you.”

Their phone call actually left me feeling a little more hopeful. After I hung up, I blew out a long, decided breath.

It didn’t matter how I told Reese the truth, I was just going to do it. I did trust her. I might not relish the idea of her knowing just how weak and stupid I’d been so many times, but she needed to know. And I knew she’d be upset, but something intrinsic and deep inside me also told me she would forgive me. I just had to man up, trust that part of myself, and tell her already.

Sighing, I scrubbed my hands over my face, not looking forward to the talk we needed to have when the back door opened.

I lifted my face, expecting Mom and Sarah to be home, or maybe—hopefully—Reese here to visit, but when Patricia strolled through my back door, I jerked to my feet, enraged.

“What the actual fuck?!” I roared. “How many times do we have to have this conversation? Get out!”

“Oh, Mason,” she murmured, shaking her head sadly. “How many times do I have to tell you…?” she countered. “Whenever you leave your door unlocked, I take it as an invitation to come right in.”

“Well, seeing as you’ve never actually fucking told me that before, I guess just this once will do. I’ll make sure to triple-bolt and bar the doors from here on out, whether I’m home or not.”

“Cute,” she murmured cattily before walking further into my kitchen and hopping onto the counter, making sure to sit exactly where I’d set Reese the first night I’d kissed her in this kitchen.

I sighed and rubbed my face, restraining myself from strangling the landlady. I really didn’t want to deal with this right now. And I really didn’t want to go to jail for losing my temper.

“So I just received your two-month notice,” she murmured, tilting her head as she watched me. “I can’t believe you think moving out is going to change anything. It’s not going to be that easy to escape me—”

“Will you just shut the fuck up,” I growled, pointing toward the door. “And get out already? This is getting old and annoying. Go learn some new tricks. Like kindness and decency maybe.”

“I’ve figured something out,” she announced, ignoring my demand as she began to swing her legs merrily, like a little kid, or like she thought it was something Reese might do, because it totally was.

God, she was such a bitch, trying to imitate my girl. She failed at it, big-time.

I ignored her, turning away to leave, because if she wouldn’t go, then I’d freaking go.

“Reese doesn’t know,” she cut in curiously. “Does she?”

Shit, I think the keys to my Jeep were sitting on the counter next to her. Whatever. I’d just walk somewhere, then. I only knew I wasn’t staying here with her.

“She still thinks you and I fucked that night, doesn’t she? She thinks you were some kind of noble hero and saved her from getting me to tell her little ex where she was.”