“Surprise him.”
I tilted my head. Kept braiding. “How…?”
“If he’s there, you could announce the launch of the foundation—”
I opened my mouth to protest but she talked over me.
“—and then tell the audience that the executive director of Lucky Dog is here in the audience this evening and he doesn’t know he’ll be receiving… what? How much of a grant were you going to give them?”
“A million dollars,” I said, and even Jasmine looked momentarily startled. “Spread out over four years probably. Four installments. It would really be the investment they needed to grow and expand without having to constantly worry about closing their doors.”
“See?” she said. “You’re already talking as if you know.”
“I do know. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought,” I said.
“Cameras would zoom in on Beck, looking surprised. Grateful. Maybe even crying a little. Emotional.”
I was already shaking my head. “Beck would hate this.”
“Beck would play along. For the cameras. Would be great for his image too.” Jasmine tilted her head, as if two puzzle pieces were slotting together. “He would come off as the executive director with the heart of gold.”
Which was who he was, through and through. Even the random tabloids that kept recycling his mug shots and bringing up his past weren’t doing too much damage to Lucky Dog’s reputation. Those who screamed the loudest were dimming; those who saw the true value of Lucky Dog’s mission were donating. Beck had made two more videos with adoptive families since the one we did with Jimmy. Both had been successful. In each one, he was a little bit more comfortable, owning his voice and his story with more confidence.
“Surprise Beck and play the whole thing off like a cheesy, inspiring video with me as the hero, swooping in to save the poor nonprofit?”
“Yes,” she said, snapping her fingers.
“No,” I replied. “And Beck asked me to never make him feel that way. Ever. I’m not going to do that, Jasmine.”
I’d spent the past week sifting through the background noise and deciphering the real lessons the universe was trying to teach me. I’d already shifted my messaging—pulled back from Lucky Dog and let Jem lead the spotlight online. Re-dedicated myself to the work of Wild Heart and our core values—Wild Heart represented more than this one mistake. We were an example, an innovator.
On social media, I only posted when I truly wanted to. And when I did, it wasn’t filtered or airbrushed; it wasn’t on-brand or strategic. It was purely me, purely fun.
Beck featured prominently now in all of my pictures—with his permission of course. And for every cute comment we received, there was a negative one: about me, Beck, Beck’s family, Lucky Dog, motorcycle clubs in general, women, and on and on. I was noticing that the trolls were coming back in full force and I still didn’t care. Fans or trolls, friends or strangers, none of it was real.
Just like Sylvia had said.
“Sometimes it’s about the bigger picture, Luna,” Jasmine cut in. “Sometimes it’s about being the leader who thinks long-term and does anything to save the company that she loves.”
I opened my mouth to argue back. The devil on my shoulder shook awake. Peered around. It wasn’t because I was actually thinking about using Beck. But because I was suddenly consumed with the worry that my cheerful optimism was going to sink Wild Heart. I could see our offices behind the wide-open windows—the people who relied on me, the employees whose paychecks covered their mortgages, the impact I truly believed we could make in the industry once we’d gotten past this horrible rough patch.
Was my vision clouded by my feelings for Beck?
And yet I knew it wasn’t. I knew it deep, deep down, in that part of your soul where only the truth shines through, scary as it might be.
I was back on the right path.
And I was going to stay that way.
“No surprises,” I said firmly. “And actually…” I looked at my schedule—there was one clean half-hour without anything tagged to it. “Actually, I changed my mind. I’m going to write the speech.”
“That’s a bad idea.”
“I’m not taking opinions on it,” I said cheerfully.
“I’ll still have cameras there,” Jasmine said, chin lifted.
“Which is great,” I clarified. “Cameras are great. Not on Beck. Are we clear?”
“Sure,” she said.
I passed my thumb over the picture of me in front of my stand. It was time to go make that girl proud.
49
Beck
Luna was going to be here in a few hours. I was fighting off the urge to scowl around the office until she got there. Elián was out interviewing a potential family. Wes was coordinating new volunteers. Jem was working happily with Penelope.
I was supposed to be responding to these community event invitations.
Instead I googled Luna’s name.
I shouldn’t have. In the past week, we’d spent every single night together at her house. I’d never been happier, lighter. More content. I’d never been as obsessed as I was with Luna. Every night our lust for each other only increased. It left me low on sleep and dazed at work. Sex drunk Wes had called it, giving me a standing ovation yesterday in the office.
Sex drunk was right. My thirst for Luna never seemed to end.
I shouldn’t have googled her. I knew the internet had nasty shit to say about her, me, our relationship. But I felt like I needed to see her face, hear her voice for a minute. Luna’s TED Talk was the first thing that came up. She’d mentioned it many times but I’d never seen it.
I clicked on it.
When she walked across the stage in the video, I felt proud of her. I’d never seen her so dressed up and professional. Beneath her name on the screen, it read: Founder and CEO. Self-made Billionaire.
That ugly voice in my head—the one I’d been able to shut out this week—took notice of it all. Luna’s charts and numbers and arguments about why businesses could be profitable without mistreating people, animals, and the environment. She was charming and funny. Smart.
“The cosmetics industry thinks it can hide behind claims that animal testing is a necessary evil,” she was saying. “That working with factories that pay people pennies per hour is efficient. Just business. These industries believe they can use women’s bodies to sell us products and yet their boards and upper management are staffed entirely by men.”
My heart was crashing against my rib cage. It was hard for the high school dropout in me to watch while sitting on shitty, donated office furniture. Luna was a slick, brilliant businesswoman who spoke before hundreds of people. She’d become just a woman to me—a woman I was falling for—but a woman without labels.
Her labels were real though. MBA. Self-Made. CEO.
And she’s been using you all along.
I sat back in my chair. Funny how those insecurities came back as soon as I let my guard down. As soon as I… trusted.
I scrolled through the page, Luna still speaking about industry standards in her video. I felt so damn attracted to her in that moment and so damn aware of our differences.
Differences that would never change.
My mouse hovered over an article someone had left at the bottom. Just a reminder of who Luna da Rosa’s new boyfriend is, the comment said. My left fingers curled into a fist.
I clicked on it.
It was an old article from the Miami Dispatch. It was a timeline of the Miami Devils’ criminal activity in the city—when they’d started, when they’d first become a problem. There were a few old pictures, old videos. My stomach clenched as I scrolled, unable to stop. In the middle of the screen was a faded-looking picture of my parents, me standing off to the side. It had to have been taken by a member that had defected, like me. It was the inside of the clubhouse—just the sight of it brought back the smell of smoke and tension. My parents were deep in conversation; I was leaning against a
wall with my arms crossed. Surly. About fifteen years old. Gangly, all limbs, already too tall.
I looked mean as hell.
I looked like I belonged there.
“Yo, Beck?” It was Wes, kicking in my office door in his usual manner. “Luna’s here, working with Penelope. Wanna see her?”
I nodded, clicking out of the website. I turned to see Luna smiling happily down at a dog that had changed beneath her care. Luna was all light, all hope.
Too successful.
Too different.
My heart begged me to keep trusting her—because we’d spent the last seven days fucking each other and sleeping together and talking till dawn and you couldn’t fake that kind of connection.
My head, however, begged me to be realistic.
50
Luna
Penelope stared at the treat in my hand like it was the only thing that mattered in all of existence.
Which, to a dog, was objectively true.
Still—I got a kick out of her golden eyes, trained on mine. Trusting. No more skittishness.
“Paw,” I said.
She presented it, pressed it into my open hand. Click went the clicker.
Penelope got her treat.
“Good girl,” I praised. I looked at Jem, who was nodding encouragingly. She’d dyed her lime-green mohawk hot magenta and had doubled-up on black eyeliner. She looked like a punk rock princess. And the covert glances she kept shooting toward Wes every time he walked past us had me wondering if he’d finally asked her out on a date.
“Down,” I commanded Penelope. She lay flat on her belly. “Roll over.”
She did, giving a wiggle that made me laugh. I gave her two treats and lots of praise. I sank to my knees and smoothed a hand over her head as her tail wagged. It was hard to believe her progress since Beck had rescued her the first day I’d shown up.
“Have you considered submitting an application to adopt Penelope?” Jem asked.
I fought a gigantic smile. “I hadn’t… I mean, I hadn’t thought about it much. In my mind, I pictured us doing this forever.”
“Well, you could do it forever. If you were her dog mom.”
I teared up at that.
Jem laughed. “Don’t cry, I’m just saying.”
“Do you think it would be a terrible idea? What if I don’t know how to be a dog mom?”
“It’s not a terrible idea,” she said. “I think it’s the best idea I’ve ever heard. You’d be a strong candidate.” Her wink was sly.
Glow went my heart.
Beck was walking toward us from across the campus. He and Elián had been busy this week. I’d recommended a few board members to Elián—people I knew with brains for long-term planning and investing for nonprofits. Beck was practicing his elevator pitch, had even spoken to a couple of church groups. A slow and steady progress.
“He’s really leaning into it more now,” Jem said, helping me up from the ground. I stayed next to Penelope, one hand on her head. “You were the jump start we needed.”
“You would have figured it out eventually,” I said, which I believed to be one-hundred-percent true. “I’m only happy I could help. Your social media game has been on point, by the way. You’ll have this place on the map in no time.”
“Learned from the best.” She winked. “I like everything you’re posting now. You always seemed real and like, approachable. But I did also think you were perfect. I kinda like seeing you not perfect.”
I watched Beck cross the yard.
“I kinda like everything that’s happening right now in my life,” I admitted. For the past week, Beck and I had been drunk on each other. At night, he picked me up from Wild Heart on his motorcycle, drove me to my mansion and we fucked each other until dawn. Our appetites were insatiable—Beck was insatiable. He didn’t just fuck me, it was an endless, erotic exploration with his hands, his palms, his fingers, his tongue. He sent me to space and brought me back down to earth. In between, we’d eat snacks and tell stories and swim naked in my warm pool beneath a canopy of starlight.
And I woke every morning with a hard, naked Beck melded to my back, kissing my neck and stroking my hair.
I’d been late to work every day this week. But I wasn’t able to conceal my silly, light-hearted smile. It was constant now, and Beck was the source.
“I told you,” Jem said.
I gave Penelope another treat for being cute. “Told me what?”
“Second chances. You got one and you didn’t fuck it up.”
I reached over. Squeezed her shoulder. “It was touch and go there for a while. Wild Heart’s going to be in financial trouble for a long time until I can re-right the ship.”
Jem was silent, watching me.
“But, yes,” I finally said, “I didn’t fuck it up. You were right. Plus, I got Beck out of it.”
I flashed her a goofy smile. She surprised me with a hug, wrapping her arms around my waist. Penelope barked happily as I squeezed Jem around her narrow shoulders.
My throat tightened.
It was more than Beck that I’d gotten.
“Hey, can I ask you something random?”
“Sure,” she said, stepping back from me. “What is it?”
“The day we filmed Jimmy’s adoption video, what did Beck whisper in your ear? To you and Wes?”
“Oh,” she said. “He said…” She tapped her lip, thinking. “I’ve always seen your value.”
My chest constricted. “I do too.”
“I know,” she said. “You see everyone’s value. That’s who you are as a person.”
I looked at my fingers, now absent of my ever-present and very on-brand, gold rings. I had sold them yesterday, was sending the money directly to the elephant sanctuary where my parents were volunteering. I never wanted to be ashamed of earning my billionaire status. But I was pretty sure I didn’t need to be adorned with jewelry that cost such a hefty price.
“Did Wes ask you on a date?” I whispered, changing the subject. Jem shook her head.
“No, but I asked him. We’re going tonight.”
I gave her another squeeze before letting go. “Your eyeliner is flawless.”
Jem touched her cheeks. “Thank you. And, uh, I’ll go put in a good word with the boss about your application to adopt Penelope.”
My heart lurched forward. I looked down at the dog I loved.
“Thank you,” I said. Watched her walk away and give Wes a very romantic-looking high five.
“Luna.”
I turned around to find Beck, by himself, grinning at me.
“Mr. Mason,” I said. No one was around, so I wrapped my arms around his waist and let him give me a giant, Beck-sized bear hug. His fingers found my ponytail, tilted my head back.
Claimed my mouth with a kiss that was a bit too filthy for the workplace.
“I missed you,” he said.
“It’s only been eight hours since I saw you this morning,” I teased.
“Feels like longer.” He ghosted his lips over my temple.
“Remember when I told you we could start going to events together and you could be my date?”
“Where are you taking me?” he asked.
“I’ve been asked to fill in last minute as a keynote speaker at an event tonight honoring women business leaders in Miami.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“My thoughts exactly,” I mused. “Want to come and watch me give a speech?”
“Of course,” he said, although an odd pause preceded the words. A hesitation. “I won’t embarrass you?”
“What? Of course not,” I said, tilting my head. He hadn’t asked me a question like that in a week. I was hoping we were both working past the frequent impasses we’d had when we first met. “I happen to think you’ll be the hottest guy there in a suit.”
“Those places have people that aren’t always that welcoming to a guy like me.”
“I guarantee you’ll be a better person than most of the peo
ple on that beach,” I said.
“Wait, where is it?” he asked.
“Middle of Ocean Drive, on the beach.”
His expression darkened.
“What?”
He looked past me for a minute. “Should be fine. It’s a Friday night and that tends to be Devils territory this time of year.” His jaw looked tighter than normal.
“Okay,” I said, concerned. “If you don’t feel safe, you don’t have to—”
“You’re speaking?” he interrupted.
“I think I’m going to announce the foundation,” I said. “I’m writing my speech in a bit.”
He relaxed. “I’d like to be there, Luna.”
“I’d like you to be there too,” I admitted.
Then he bent down in front of Penelope and cupped her face in his hands. They were sharing some kind of communication I couldn’t read, but the sight of it tugged my heart forward.
I swallowed the words I wanted to say. Really, they were begging to be liberated. Hey, this might be totally crazy but I love you?
I’d already semi-practiced it in the mirror a couple of times. I’d almost said it half a dozen times this past week, and not only when Beck was giving me an endless array of exquisite orgasms. It was watching the tender way Beck worked with the dogs here, the same tenderness reflected in his interactions with Wes and Jem. His comfort with Elián. The many small ways he was trying to be the leader everyone believed him to be.
Beck Mason, truly vulnerable, was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
But it was probably too soon, right? He’d only been my boyfriend for seven days. Yet here I was, standing in the middle of a field filled with rescue dogs, being held by a meat-eating, leather-wearing giant I was in love with.
Standing here, watching Beck, the man I loved with the dog I loved, I knew now where this new path was taking me. This journey I would get to walk.
And not alone.
Tonight, I promised myself. I would tell him tonight.
And I sent a plea to the universe that Beck Mason felt the same way.
WILD OPEN HEARTS: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy Page 25