The Price of Mason (Forbidden Men 10)

“Now who’s playing dumb?” Averting her gaze, she pulled her elbow free from me.

“Jesus.” Realizing this was not a good thing after all, and she was pissed and blamed me for manipulating her, I spun away and ran my hands through my hair. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to you. I swear to God, I’m sorry. I was a jealous tool, and you deserve to date and be happy and…and live your life however you want.”

Or maybe she wasn’t that mad at me, because an instant later, her expression softened and she actually smiled at me as if pleased by my rant.

“Well, thank you, Mason,” she said. “I’m so glad I have your approval to live my life however I want, because I plan to do just that.”

Ah, shit, nope. She was still pissed. I just got hit with the ultimate punch of sarcasm.

When she tried to walk away, I caught her arm.

“Why do I have a bad feeling there’s a hidden agenda behind that statement?” Like she was going to go off and do something just to spite me.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was saccharine sweet and oh-so fake. “Maybe you’re paranoid.”

Worried she might call Riker and set up another date with him after all, I opened my mouth to apologize for being an ass, but she cut in, asking, “Where’s Sarah?”

“Right here.” Sarah rolled her chair into the open doorway of my room, letting me know she’d probably been listening in on our entire conversation. I narrowed my eyes at her, but Reese swept toward her as if the kid were her lifesaver. Neither girl glanced my way as they disappeared down the hall, chatting together.

I guess I’d just been dismissed. I didn’t bother to tell either of them goodbye as I left for work; I just fled out the back door and moodily made my way to my Jeep.

The Country Club was slammed with business the first half of the evening. They hosted a wedding rehearsal dinner that kept me busy with parking cars until about nine, when most of the people cleared out to get an early evening in before their big nuptials the next day.

Three of us valets had been on duty, so we took turns on our supper breaks. I went last. Just as I stepped inside to start my break and head toward the back hall to the employee’s lounge, a voice called, “Mason?”

I glanced over, frowning because it sounded a lot like my boss, Tyler, who should not be here on a Friday night. When I saw that it was him, after all, he beckoned me his way with a flick of his hand. “Would you come to my office, please?”

“Sure.” N

ot sure what was going on, I followed him down another hall that led to more offices. He seemed grim, which wasn’t like him. Dread cramped my stomach as we reached the door to his domain, and he opened it, ushering me in before him.

The first thing I saw when I entered was Ethan Riker standing next to his father. I pulled up short, wondering what the hell was going on, all the while knowing this would not end well.

“Is this the one?” Mr. Riker asked, glancing meaningfully at his son.

Dropping his face so he wouldn’t meet my gaze, Ethan nodded silently.

“Mason.” Tyler shut the door and sent me a disappointed sigh. “Did you park a car for this young man earlier tonight?”

I blinked at him. Out of all the things I thought they might possibly say, this was not even on the list. “No,” I said, frowning toward Ethan and wondering what the fuck was going on.

He still wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“He was a guest here this evening,” Tyler insisted. “He even has a receipt for the meal he bought.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, wondering why it was important if the dick had eaten here or not. “He didn’t use the valet service then, because I haven’t seen him at all.”

“He says you parked his car for him. At around seven.”

I glanced at Ethan, wondering if maybe he needed me to lie and say I had, to cover for him. I would, if that was what he needed; I felt like I owed the guy one for his mom, and Reese, and everything. But he still wouldn’t look at me, so I couldn’t tell what he was trying to get at here. Since he already had proof that he’d been here, I decided he didn’t need me as an alibi, so I just stuck with the truth, shaking my head. “No,” I said slowly. “I didn’t park anything for him tonight.”

“Oh, so I guess you’re going to claim you didn’t do this to the side of his Range Rover, either?” his dad blustered, shoving his phone in my face to show me the picture of a tan Range Rover with a deep-ass gash running the entire length of the driver’s side.

“Oh, shit.” I winced in sympathy. That was going to cost a pretty penny to repaint.

Suddenly, it struck me what Mr. Riker had just said. My gaze flashed to him. “Wait. Why would I key his car?”

The older man narrowed his eyes, clearly not liking my incredulous tone. “He said you two are fighting over a girl.”