by Andrea Joy
At least the majority of it is over. Simon is still out there somewhere, no doubt gone underground now that there’s nothing stopping Braxton and the Famiglia from hunting him down. And they are hunting him. Braxton has pulled every soldier in from other assignments and made it their sole mission to hunt down Salvatore “Simon” Mendoza. All I know is that I wouldn’t want to be him when they do finally catch up to him.
And then there’s Mason. I know I owe him an explanation and a huge apology, not just for agreeing to Simon’s demands and icing him out but for keeping his son from him too. I’m just afraid that once he learns the truth, he’ll never look at me the same way. My phone pings from its spot on the little side table between Klara and me. When I pick it up, I’m not surprised to see the name on the display.
Mason: Have dinner with me tonight.
I don’t respond right away. I don’t know how. I want to see him so bad. Want to feel his arms wrapped around me, feel his breath on my ear as he whispers that everything is going to be okay. And then I look over to where my son is playing with the other kids and I just don’t know if I’m ready to disrupt his life even more than it already is.
Mason: I swear to Christ, Sofia De Luca, if you don’t reply to my messages I’m coming to get you. I’m done waiting.
Me: Ugh, fine! You can pick me up at eight.
Dominic should be done with his bedtime routine by then and settled in with a movie. I place my phone back on the small table, face down, and shuffle back in the lounger so I’m more propped up.
“You okay?” Klara asks, reaching over to place her drink down beside my phone.
“Mason wants to take me to dinner tonight,” I say, keeping my eyes on the kids playing in the pool now.
Dominic has come out of his shell a little and is helping Lily splash Cooper and the twins. When the three other kids splash them back, Lily giggles and hides her face in Dominic’s chest. My son is so shocked, he has no idea what to do. Slowly, he curls an arm around her shoulders and shields her from the water while he uses his other arm to continue splashing water at the other kids.
“Are you going to go?”
“Yeah,” I sigh, quickly glancing over at her. Klara has one foot resting on the lounger, leg bent, and is applying more sunscreen. “I think I’m going to tell him about Dominic. I mean, as much as I want to keep my son to myself a little while longer, I know it’s not fair to either of them.”
Klara squeals and then she’s off her chair and launching herself into my arms.
“I’m so happy for you.”
I breathe out an awkward chuckle and hug her back. “Calm down, K. Just because I’m going to tell him about his son doesn’t mean we’re getting back together.”
“What?” Klara looks crestfallen as she plops back down on her chair but stays facing me. Her elbows resting on her knees. “Why not? You guys were so great together!”
“Well, for one, I kept his son from him. Two, I’m not divorced yet, and three, I left him to marry another man, Klara. There’s no way he’s going to be able to forgive me for that. I didn’t even have the decency to break up with him first.”
She waves me off with a pssht. “It’s not like you had a choice. Simon threatened your family. You did what you had to do. Mason will understand that.”
I’m not so sure. All I can remember is the way he looked standing outside in the rain in front of his house while I yelled at him about not fighting for us. I made him feel like he wasn’t enough when in truth, he’s more than enough. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner.
After another hour has passed, Klara and I get the kids out of the pool and into a bath. Klara sees to Lily in the master bathroom while I help Dominic get a bath ready in one of the guest rooms. Cooper takes the shower downstairs and the twins each take one of the other guest bathrooms. After the kids are done and in pjs, we gather them in the theatre room downstairs with popcorn, drinks, and some candy. Seeing them all together makes me wish another boy was here too. I make a mental note to call the group home and check on Max. And then it’s my turn to go get ready. I’m so nervous, I haven’t had a date since… well, since Mason. The night he took me out for crepes and then we walked along the Harbour before nearly ripping each other’s clothes off in the cab ride back to his place.
While I was in the shower, Mason texted me the name and address of the restaurant and what time to meet him. Five minutes before the time he said, I pull into the parking lot and park Braxton’s SUV. This thing is a beast and not at all what I’m used to driving. After putting the beast in park and turning off the engine, I grab my purse from the passenger seat and gracefully try to jump down, closing the door behind me and clicking the button to set the alarm on the vehicle.
Mason is already waiting for me when I approach the building. He looks handsome, leaning against the brick building, hands in the pockets of his navy-blue dress pants. The sleeves of his white dress shirt are rolled up past his elbows, and he’s wearing that cocky smirk I’d like to kiss off his face. My stomach flutters as the butterflies get ready to take flight.
“Hi beautiful,” Mason says once I get close enough. He wraps an arm around my waist, his hand pressing into the curve of my lower back and pulling me in so he can kiss my cheek.
“Hi.” It comes out a little breathy and I can feel the heat begin to creep up my neck. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“Not at all.” Mason steps aside to let me pass. His hand never leaving my lower back as he pulls open the door to the restaurant for me.
The hostess takes Mason’s name and promises to come get us at the bar when our table is ready. With his hand still pressed firmly to my back, Mason ushers me ahead of him and toward a couple seats at the bar. I order a gin and tonic when the bartender comes to take our order and Mason orders a bourbon, neat.
We sip our drinks in silence for several minutes then Mason turns to me, taking my chin between his fingers and forcing me to look at him. Heat fires behind his eyes and suddenly I’m reverting back to the shy eighteen-year-old girl I was.
“You look good.” He lets go of my chin and slides his hand to cup my neck while his thumb gently grazes back and forth over my cheek.
“Thank you.” I lick along my bottom lip and pull one corner in between my teeth. Mason’s eyes watch with heat burning in them as he tracks the movement.
We’re so lost in the moment of each other that neither one of us notices when the hostess appears to take us to our table until she politely clears her throat to get our attention.
“Mr. James, your table is ready.”
I smile at her and grab the rest of my drink as I slide off the barstool. Mason takes a hold of my free hand and we follow the hostess to a table in the back. It’s secluded enough that we can’t hear the conversations going on around us, but we still have a view of the rest of the restaurant. I slide in on one side thinking Mason will take the other so I’m surprised when he slides in beside me. The hostess hands us each a menu and says our server will be by shortly to take our order before she turns to head back to the hostess stand at the front of the restaurant.
The conversation flows surprisingly easy between us while we wait for our server to take our order and then again while we’re eating. I tell Mason the events of what happened that day and why I was avoiding him for that week before the family dinner. I don’t, however, tell him about how Simon treated me after we were married. I can’t burden him with that shit and truth be told, I don’t want to relive it. At least not while I’m enjoying dinner with Mason. I’m also not surprised to learn that Braxton and the guys were suspicious after my engagement announcement and started digging deeper into Simon. Once they learned that Simon was the same one they’ve been hunting down they thought this was their chance to catch him.
“I told them there was no way I was going to let you do that. That I was going to interrupt the wedding.”
“So why didn’t you?”
He places his fork and
steak knife on his plate before reaching for his glass of water. After he was done with his first bourbon, he switched to water for the rest of the night. It took me by surprised since Mason usually liked to enjoy a glass or two of bourbon with dinner, but I can’t say that the change wasn’t unwelcome. I’ve known that he’s struggled with drinking for a few years, especially after Emily died, and especially when he’s stressed out or going through a hard time.
“Because there was still a part of me that didn’t want to believe I was good enough for you.”
“And you thought Simon was?” I ask, shocked.
“Fuck, no. But your cousin also reminded me that you’re stubborn and once you get an idea in your head you have to run with it until it plays out. We knew that no matter what we said to you, you’d have done things the same way because the lives of your family were at stake and you wouldn’t take the chance that he was lying or that we’d get to him before he got to us.”
Mason covers my hands with his on the table between us.
“At some point, you’re going to have let me protect you.”
He grins and I laugh, laying my head on his shoulder. “It’s a deal.”
Our server arrives with the bill. My hand feels cold as soon as Mason removes his to take out his wallet so he can pay. I don’t even try to reach for mine, remembering the last time I tried to pay for dinner. When it comes to dates, Mason is traditional in his ways. He prefers to pay for dinner, but he never said anything about dessert so after we leave the restaurant I direct us down the street to my favourite ice cream parlour.
A few months ago I found out that this place makes their own ice cream in house and I knew I had to try it. Once I did I was hooked. I’ve been coming here at least once a week for the last couple months. Mason orders two scoops of the chocolate chai flavour and I order one of the birthday cake and one of the coffee chocolate flavours. Before he can remove his wallet from his pocket again, I’ve already tapped my debit card to pay for our ice cream. Mason growls low in his chest and I shoot him my most innocent smile over my shoulder while handing him his ice cream cup.
I thank the attendant and am already digging into my ice cream as we leave the shop to head towards the Harbour. Mason stops me with a hand around my neck and forces me to turn so I’m facing him. His lips are on mine in the next second, my free hand pressed to his chest above his heart. I can feel it beating a staccato rhythm beneath my palm. I hum when he draws away and try to follow his lips. A slow, seductive smile curls the corners of his mouth as he presses a hand to the small of my back again and we start walking.
We eventually find a bench to sit and finish our ice cream and people watch. I lay my head back on his shoulder as I suck the last of my ice cream from the white plastic spoon. I was so nervous for this date, but now I realize I had nothing to be scared of. It felt like it did months ago before everything went to shit. This was nice. I can get used to this.
Mason drives me and Braxton’s SUV back to the house since he had walked over to the restaurant after work and had taken the TTC to work earlier in the day. After he parks the vehicle in the driveway he hurriedly scrambles from the car and runs around to open my door, offering a hand to help me out. He doesn’t release me once the passenger door is shut and instead holds my hand while he walks me to the front door.
“Thank you for dinner,” I say, nervously fingering the straps of my purse.
“I’d like to take you out again. Do things right this time,” Mason says, cupping my face between his palms and leaning in to kiss me again.
I can’t keep lying to him anymore. Mason deserves to know about his son and whether or not it ruins whatever was starting between us again tonight, I need to tell him.
“Mason, there’s something I —”
He drops his hands from my face when the front door opens to reveal Ciaran.
“Ah, you told him about his son then?” Ciaran asks, reading the surprise on Mason’s face all wrong.
Fuck.
Chapter Thirty
MASON
“My what?” My brain is struggling to understand what the big fucker in the doorway just casually announced.
I flip my gaze back to Sofia and she’s gone stark white. All the colour has drained from her face. She looks from me to the giant and back to me again, her mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out. My son. That’s what the giant said, right? I can’t have imagined it.
“Son? I have a son?” I’m frozen to my spot and wishing that she’d say something.
It can’t possibly be true. The last time Sofia and I slept together was several months ago and I’m sure she wasn’t pregnant then and hasn’t been since she came back to Toronto for the summer. So unless…
“How old?” My voice croaks so I clear my throat and try again. “How old is he?”
“Um,” Sofia shuffles her weight from one foot to the other and looks back at the giant but he mumbles an apology and backs away into the house, closing the door again to give us privacy.
“How old is he, Sofia?”
“S-six.”
Boiling hot rage courses through my veins and I have to take a step back before I do something I’m going to regret later. And then all at once I’m bombarded by a litany of thoughts. Six. I lost out on six years of my son’s life. I have a six-year-old son. New Years Eve. But I thought we used a condom. They’re not one hundred percent reliable, jackass. Why the fuck would she keep this from me? Why didn’t she tell me? Where has he been for the last several months? Obviously not here. Suddenly the reason for her not coming home for six years makes sense. I rake my fingers through my hair as thought after thought rolls through my head.
“Mason…” Sofia begins to reach a hand out to me, but I take another step back.
“Don’t!”
Her bright blue eyes round and then begin to water. I should feel bad for making her cry but right now I’m holding on by a thread. I have a son. I claw at the collar around my neck and rip open the top button but it does nothing to ease my breathing. I have a son. I take off for the black SUV parked in the driveway and jump in, thankful I still have the keys. I’ll bring the car back tomorrow, but right now I can’t think straight. I hear Sofia calling for me. I can hear the tears in her voice, but I don’t look up as I put the vehicle in reverse and back out of the driveway. I have a son.
SOFIA
“Mason! Mason, please wait!”
He doesn’t even hesitate for a second before pulling open the door to my cousin’s SUV and jumping inside.
“Mason, please!” I try again, but then the driver’s side door is slamming shut and the engine roars to life.
I faintly hear the front door behind me opening and a pair of strong arms wrapping around my middle while I sob and watch Mason back down the driveway like a bat out of hell. He’s gone. Again.
“Shh,” my cousin’s deep voice says in my ear as he soothes a hand down my hair and holds me closer.
The adrenaline from the day seeps away and my knees begin to buckle. I would’ve hit the ground if it weren’t for Braxton’s weight holding me up.
“He’s gone.” My voice is hoarse and sore from trying to get Mason to stop. My attention still lingers on the spot where the driveway curves around, hoping… wishing that the headlights of the SUV will appear again.
“If I know Mason, he’ll be back in the morning.”
Braxton takes most of my weight and ushers me inside the house, shutting the door behind us. I don’t bother kicking off my shoes and my cousin doesn’t even seem to notice, he just helps me to the couch and then disappears, coming back a few seconds later with a glass of my favourite wine. I notice Ciaran has made himself suspiciously scarce.
“Did I ever tell you you’re my favourite?” I ask, grinning up at my cousin but it feels fake.
He chuckles, taking a seat beside me and pulling me under his arm. “I better be.”
We sit in silence for a little bit while I sip at my wine. Eventually, Braxton turns
on the TV and switches the channel to Investigation Discovery. Wine and murder. Perfect. I cuddle in closer to my cousin and drain the rest of my glass as one of the detectives describes the crime scene.
“He’ll never forgive me,” I say into the dark room.
Braxton and I have always been close, even when we were kids. We grew a part a bit after my parents died and I tried to stay under Dante’s radar. That changed when I came to live with him in high school. Braxton is ten years older than me but that has never affected our relationship.
He sighs, but thankfully doesn’t give me some bullshit about how I’m wrong. “He’ll come around, Sofia. It might take some time.”
“I screwed up big time.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“Ass,” I say, slapping him on the chest playfully.
Braxton laughs then reaches over for the remote and clicks the TV off. “Time for bed. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day for you.”
I groan but lean back over and drop my feet to the floor. “Do I have to?” I pout.
“Yes.” He takes my wine glass back to the kitchen and I hear the sink turn on and then off before he comes back. “Goodnight, Sof.”
I wish him goodnight, but don’t follow him upstairs. I pull my phone from my back pocket and pull up his message thread.
Me: I’m so sorry. I know I hurt you. Please call me so we can talk.
An hour later when I’m showered and changed into pj’s and crawl into bed, there’s still no messages from Mason. There is one from Simon, though.
Simon: You screwed up, Little Lamb. I’m coming for you.
My stomach revolts and I barely make it back to the guest bathroom before I’m getting sick. I don’t sleep for more than an hour the whole night.
MASON
I break all sorts of traffic laws on the way back to my place to switch out cars. The SUV doesn’t have the ability for the kind of speed I need right now. I park the vehicle on the far side of the round-about drive way and then impatiently wait for one of the garage doors to slide up after inputting the code. As soon as I see the rear bumper of the Audi, my blood begins to pump faster through my veins.