“Things are peaceful. Hopeful, here at Lucky Dog,” I said to Justine. “Different from two months ago when we believed we would have to close for good.”
“You’re a great ambassador for your cause, Mr. Mason,” Justine said. “I don’t see why you shouldn’t come down to our offices, give this speech in person.”
“Oh,” I said. “Um, thanks. I’ve been feeling more comfortable lately.”
“Being the executive director isn’t easy, but I can tell you’ve got the passion for it. Being a Mason isn’t easy too.”
My head whipped her way. “Excuse me?”
She nodded. “I’m born and raised in Miami, Beck. I know who you are. And I saw that video you made, the one where you spoke about your value. Leaving your family. That’s an inspiration too. Courageous, like you said. Not shameful.”
I blew out a breath, kicking a rock with the toe of my boot. “Thank you for saying that.”
She patted my shoulder. “Now can I go take a look at that dog over there?” She was pointing to Sunshine.
“Sure,” I said, amused. Wondered if there was a match brewing. I let Elián take her over and set up a possible interview. Neither my mother nor my father had reached out in the last two weeks, which was fine by me. Seeing her once had been enough to send me spinning back to all of those dark places.
I didn’t want to do it again.
But it left me unsettled. Because I’d told Luna they’d be persistent, that they’d be an issue for us forever and ever.
And they were silent—as usual. No ride-bys. No bumping into MC members on the beach or seeing them on Ocean Drive. But this had always been their way—a little bit of emotional manipulation here or there to keep me on my toes.
Except… was that significant enough to end my relationship with Luna?
In the office, Wes flagged me down. “Groovy bundle of mail today, boss.” He was permanently smiling now because of Jem, and even my cold heart couldn’t be angry about it.
“First, these three checks.” Wes handed them over and I recognized the names immediately: Cameron Whitbury, Daisy Carter-Kincaid, Emily Stanton. Each check was in the amount of $250,000. On the back of Daisy’s check was a post-it note that read: The three of us love Lucky Dog. But we are of the opinion that you’re a dumb ass for dumping Luna.
Cheeks hot, I jammed the post-it note into my back-pocket, heart hammering.
“This is next level,” Wes said.
“Holy shit. You’re right,” I replied, still amazed that the people in Luna’s world had access to money like this. “We’ll be…” I swallowed hard. “We’ll be set for a couple years with these. If we’re careful.”
“Right? Also this.” Wes slapped a large white envelope down. It was a packet from the Wild Heart Foundation. Inside was a short letter.
From Luna.
The sight of her happy handwriting felt like a sucker punch. I sniffed. It was probably my imagination, but I thought I smelled oranges.
To the staff of Lucky Dog, thank you for allowing me to spend time with you. Your organization is truly a place of magic and miracles and I feel incredibly fortunate to have known all of you.
“Have known” felt like two sucker punches.
When we first met I also guaranteed a large financial gift to Lucky Dog on top of volunteering my time. I’ve attached a funding agreement—the first from the Wild Heart Foundation. It would be a privilege to award Lucky Dog with our first grant early next year. The award would be $1 million over four years. I know how strategically you’ve been focusing on securing your financial future. I hope this gift allows you the flexibility to pay your bills while achieving your wildest dreams. All the best, Luna da Rosa.
“This is like a fuck-ton of money, boss.” Wes whooped, clapped his hands. “Can you believe it?”
“No,” I said, voice rough. “I almost can’t believe it.” I thought of Willow—the way she’d stared at me the first day we met, like she knew I’d rescued her. The first night she’d spent with me in the jail cell, she had been terrified of the clanging doors. A sharp sound that made her shake. I had stayed awake all night, petting her, making her feel safe. I know it sounded cheesy as hell but that night literally was the first day of the rest of my life.
And now? We wouldn’t have to turn away dogs just like her. We’d continue to rehabilitate. Save. The matches between dog and person that had the power to change lives.
Luna had done it. It was more than I ever could have hoped for. Almost two million dollars had landed on my desk today because of the woman I still felt devoted to. She was following through on her promises—her actions matched her words.
“Jem! Elián!” Wes was yelling for them from the door. My heart was hammering—thumb stroking across Luna’s handwriting. Jem and Elián burst through the door, faces surprised.
“Did someone die?” Elián asked. “Why are we all yelling?”
“Because we just received almost two million in the fucking mail,” I said, smile breaking across my face. A real one.
Elián came over while Jem squealed and leapt into Wes’s arms. He kissed her cheek as she giggled, spinning her around.
Elián gave me a half-hug, laughing and holding up the checks like he couldn’t believe they were real. “Told ya working with Luna was a smart move.”
“You were right,” I admitted.
Luna was trusting me to spend this money well. Even with our breakup, she was showing me that she cared. That she trusted me.
Daisy was right. I was a dumb ass.
60
Beck
Beatrix was finally going home.
Wes, Jem, Elián and I all came out for this adoption interview because, according to Wes, “the lady who wants Beatrix is fucking dope.”
I needed a happy story right now. It was a few days after Justine’s visit and the big donations from Luna’s foundation and her best friends.
I literally ached with missing her.
The only thing I could focus on—really, the smart thing to focus on—was Lucky Dog.
Jem had Beatrix on the leash. Beatrix’s big head came up to her waist. She wasn’t the snarling, terrified beast she’d been when we’d brought her in more than two months ago. But I was still wary. If Beatrix didn’t like you, she didn’t like you.
And I doubted she’d like the woman standing in front of us.
“Victoria Whitney,” she said, holding out her hand like the Queen. I didn’t know if she wanted me to kiss it or shake it or what. We all just stared at it until she placed it back on her expensive-looking handbag. Victoria was a white woman in her sixties, white hair, giant diamonds in her ears. She held a black umbrella to shield her from the sun, and her nose was tilted high.
“Beck Mason,” I said. “This is my staff. I’m sorry, but did you say you’re here for Beatrix?”
A curl of her lips. “Yes, well, I’ve flown all the way from Philadelphia because my arch-nemesis, Bitzi Peterson, told me I had to get my dog from your nonprofit. I was going to go purebred, as you can imagine.”
She said this in a whisper, as if the tattooed ex-convicts standing around her were the kind of people who cared about a dog’s pedigree.
“But Bitzi won’t wear anything other than the makeup from that Instagram model. What’s her name? Luna da Rosa.”
My back stiffened. “Luna?” I croaked it out like a teenager.
“Bitzi told me that if Luna da Rosa says this place is all the rage”—she sniffed around again, like she didn’t quite believe it—“then it’s all the rage. And I am nothing if not all the rage, darlings.”
Who the hell was this woman?
“Uh, okay,” I said, hands in my pockets. “What kind of dog companion are you looking for? Beatrix requires a lot of work. And love.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I have love.” She said this with a slight sadness, which piqued my interest. “And a sinful amount of money. Beatrix would live a life of luxury, I’ll tell you that.”
; “Beatrix used to have to fight dogs. She was chained up every hour of the day,” I said. “Luxury is fine. Love is more important.”
Victoria turned around, eyeing Beatrix with a new appreciation. “A fighter, you say? Just like me.”
Elián smirked at me from behind Victoria. But I was watching dog and human carefully.
“Would she protect me?”
“Bullmastiffs, as a breed, are very loyal,” I said. “She’ll love you forever.”
She touched the string of pearls around her neck. “I’ve had some things stolen from me quite recently. I had hired a team of men to keep them secure.” Victoria fixed her gaze on Jem. “I think I’ve learned my lesson about hiring men for things, right, darling?”
“Dogs are better,” Jem agreed. “No offense to my boyfriend over there.”
“None taken.” Wes beamed.
I hid a smile, watched Beatrix sniffing her way toward Victoria’s high heels.
“Is she trained?”
“She is now,” I said. “But she’ll need firm direction. Jem, can you let her off the leash?”
Jem did, and Beatrix began wandering off, following her nose on some scent.
Victoria snapped her fingers and said, “Halt.”
Beatrix stopped. Turned.
Victoria pointed at her feet. Beatrix went.
“Sit,” Victoria said, like an empress giving orders.
Beatrix sat. All four of us watched wide-eyed as Beatrix laid her giant head against Victoria’s leg, and stared up at her.
Victoria smiled. Placed a hand on top of Beatrix’s head. “She’s quite a good girl. Very pretty.”
Beatrix wasn’t pretty, but I wasn’t going to disagree.
“Would you like a collar made of diamonds?” Victoria cooed down at her. “I’ll have one made for you as soon as we return.”
“How about I take Victoria and Beatrix around for a bit?” Jem asked. “See how they do?”
I mouthed They’re a match and Jem flashed me a thumbs-up. I watched them make their way through the field, Beatrix staring at Victoria like she was the center of her universe.
“Wouldn’t have guessed that one,” I admitted.
“It’s not always obvious,” Elián said. “You know that.”
I clapped him on the back. “All right then. Back to those new grant applications.”
“Hey, so, since we’re all standing around, Wes and I were wondering when you were going to admit to Luna that you were wrong and get back together so we can have a little goddamn peace around here?”
“Bull’s-eye, bro,” Wes said beneath his breath.
I turned with my meanest scowl—but Elián wasn’t having it. “Beck, I’m your best and oldest friend. You think Scary Beck even has an effect on me anymore?”
“I’m not trying to be scary,” I growled. They both snorted.
After a minute, I cracked a small smile.
“There he is,” Elián said. “Mr. Sunshine.”
“Fuck off,” I said, but it lacked heat. “And you know it was for the best. I might have broken us up early, but we were going to break up eventually.”
“I don’t know, boss,” Wes said, rocking back on his heels. “I think you’re terrified to be in love with her. Because you never had it. It takes courage to embrace love. To not let the shame win. You taught me that.”
When had twenty-two-year-old Wes become the wise owl of our office?
I shifted on my feet, totally uncomfortable.
“Do you really think… like really think a woman like that would love a man like me?”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
“You’re a lovable dude,” Wes said. “Luna owned up to her shit. Apologized. Made changes. Is moving on.”
“You’re the leader of this place,” Elián continued. “You need to own that. Because if we don’t have Big Lovable Beck to do the work that needs to be done, then everything Luna did for us is going to go to waste. You’re already stepping into it. Doing the things Luna would want you to do. What’s keeping you from being with her, really?”
Wes didn’t have to say it. It was another bull’s-eye.
“Money. Our differences. My family. Her reputation,” I said. I’d been repeating this list to myself for weeks now—a reminder.
“Except,” Elián said, “when you were with Luna, you’d never been so happy and comfortable. We all recognized it. Luna’s the one.”
The one.
I mean, I fucking knew that. Knew it deep, deep down.
“But going all in,” I managed, “being with… with Luna would mean…” I blew out a breath, stalling. “Trust.”
“All of the trust,” Elián agreed.
“It’s scary shit,” Wes said. “You can do it though. Look at Beatrix over there.” I did, watched her trotting around the campus with her eyes on Victoria. It was a leap—a risk—but it was going to pay off for her. She was going to be loved. Forever.
“If Lucky Dog had a heart, it would be you,” Wes said.
“That true?” I asked, coughing through a knot of emotion lodged in my throat.
“Yes,” they both said again.
“Okay, Jesus, I get the point.” I was trying not to smile, but their faces were so serious I couldn’t help it.
“In case it’s not, you know obvious or whatever, I love you guys.”
“Ah man, I love you too,” Wes said, hugging me hard.
Over his shoulder, I arched a brow at Elián, who was grinning.
“I love you too, Beck. And you should go get Luna back.”
61
Luna
Heartbreak was going to be my reality forever and ever and ever.
I knew that because I was at our monthly Drag Queen Brunch at Mordecai’s Bistro—my absolutely favorite day—and I was a hot mess of misery.
Daisy, Cameron, Emily and I sat in our usual horseshoe-shaped black booth in the very back of the restaurant. They had looks of extreme concern on their beautiful faces. Lady Raquel, our favorite server, diplomatically placed a mug of steaming liquid in front of me. It was frothy, with a design of a flower in the middle. “Chamomile, cinnamon and almond milk,” she said. “Healing for a broken heart.”
“I don’t have a broken heart,” I said with faux cheeriness. “Everything is great. Wild Heart’s doing super well—”
“Shhh. Drink your drink, honey. You’re so sad you’re making everyone else in here cry into their food.” Lady Raquel said.
“I’m really fine,” I said, voice cracking at the end. “You guys can stop looking at me like you all just re-read Where the Red Fern Grows and sobbed at the ending.”
“Grown women don’t read children’s books where dogs die in them,” Daisy said. “That’s only you, Moon. And you need to go talk to Beck and force that big biker to realize he’s your soulmate.”
“I know,” I said. And that was even sadder. “But he doesn’t think we belong together. He believes he’ll hold me back or whatever else nonsense words he spouted at me that night. But they were… they were just words. And Beck’s a man of action—”
I stopped because the romance authors were streaming into Mordecai’s and taking the booth right next to ours. Cameron’s eyes widened and Emily craned her neck to see if they had paperbacks with them. Usually they came bearing notebooks and sticky notes and highlighters, with messy hair and wearing old sweatpants. On deadline, they’d all complain, and then we’d all listen in as they untangled messy plot holes and brainstormed conflict ideas. The four of us had been low-key stalking these authors for the six years we’d been coming here. I personally had improved my oral sex technique from listening to the author with giant blue glasses scream about blow jobs at a volume completely inappropriate for a restaurant.
And now she was complaining about the book she was writing. As we quietly drained our mimosas while super obviously listening, blue-glasses-author dropped her head on the table while another author, wearing a shirt with a giant taco on it, patted her b
ack sympathetically.
“My book is basically all telling and not showing,” she was saying.
“You’ll fix it. You always do,” taco-lady murmured.
“I’ll never fix it and it’s garbage,” blue-glasses-author wailed.
“You need ways in which the hero can show the heroine how he feels,” taco-lady said. “You know he needs to do some—”
“Actions.” I blurted the word out just as taco-lady said it. I caught her eye and I flushed.
“Unrelated to what you’re talking about,” I said, waving my hands.
“Also can you please tell me what happens to Salvio in book five?” Daisy whined. “I’ve been waiting forever.” One of the authors had an extremely popular and long-running series about a bunch of brothers who owned a winery and Daisy was obsessed.
“Oh my god, ignore her,” Cameron said to the romance authors. She gathered us in, like a football huddle. “Luna, what’s going on in that pretty brain of yours? I can see you scheming.”
I blew out a breath. “If Beck has a certain view of who he is, especially in comparison to me, then I need a way to show him. Show him what I see when I look at him. Not… not what he believes to be true. What his mother said or Jasmine or the media or anything else.”
“Show him why you love him,” Emily said with a sweet smile. “What would do that? Is there anything Beck wants? Has done? Maybe from his past?”
I sipped my broken-heart-latte, courtesy of Lady Raquel. It smelled like baking cookies with my mom and tasted like nostalgia and comfort. Alchemy. If this was an elixir for a broken heart, it was working.
What did Beck want? He wanted me, at some point. And maybe, hopefully, still did. He wanted Lucky Dog to flourish.
Willow.
“Emily, do you think Derek’s team of super savvy tech people could help me out with something?”
“Of course,” she said. “What is it?”
I flashed a real smile for the first time in days. “I need them to help me find a dog.”
WILD OPEN HEARTS: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy Page 29