by Rush, Olivia
“No, that’s fine.” Kathy held onto Ty for another good few seconds, using that time to switch from eyeing the house and yard to eyeing Mason. “Doctor Dunn,” she said. “I see you’re still here.”
He let out a deep belly laugh, and Ty barked, tilting his fluffy head to one side, his ear flopping up. “Don’t sound so surprised, Kathy,” Mason replied.
The older woman sniffed and finally handed me the dog. Ty settled into my arms, a warm furry ball of cuteness, and licked at my neck and face, thumping his little tail frantically. “Hello, boy, hello,” I whispered. “Aren’t you the sweetest? Aren’t you the sweetest?”
“I assume you have everything prepared for him? Kibble? A puppy bed?”
“Actually,” I said, between licks from Ty, “I was going to go out today and get everything I needed.”
“And who will stay with the puppy while you do that, hmm?” Kathy asked, arching a graying eyebrow.
“I will,” Mason replied. “I’m going to be here all day fixing up the house. We’ve got it from here.”
Kathy mouthed the word “we” then shook her head as if she needed to clear it. “Good,” she said, stiffly and exited the gate, slapping it shut behind her. “All that’s in order, then. I hope you enjoy your time with Ty. He’s a real little ray of sunshine. Look after him, Miss Starr.”
Ty barked again and scrambled in my arms. I set him down, and he raced around between my legs and then Mason’s, barking like crazy.
“What else would I do?” I replied, laughing already.
Today would be a good day. Thanks to this boy, and this man. Today would be the best day.
Wasn’t that what I’d wanted from the start? Peace? Happiness?
And a little restaurant of my own.
Soon.
Chapter 25
Mason
Four weeks later…
Betsy’s Place hopped with activity during the lunch hour rush. Waitresses swept by the booths carrying trays laden with delicious food—baskets of burgers and fries, bowls of dirty rice, selections of deep-fried delights, and even seafood. The smells were tangy, salty, and just fucking mouthwatering.
“What I tell you about this place, huh?” I grinned at Becca over my menu. “It’s the hottest restaurant in town for a reason.”
She smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Becca had been reserved the past few days, which was weird, after the weeks we’d spent falling into each other. I’d figured we’d passed the awkward phase of our relationship.
In fact, I’d banked on it. I’d pretty much made the decision to stay in Stoneport. All that was left to do now was unpack my half-packed boxes and find a new place to work. Slim pickings in this town, given that Crown’s practice was the only one around.
“Becca?”
“Huh?” She lifted her head and looked at me as if she’d only just realized we were out to lunch together. Yep, something definitely had her freaked.
“What’s up, angel?” I asked. “You’re acting weird.”
“Astute observation,” she replied and took a sip of her soda. No straw—save the environment, that kind of thing. “I’m feeling weird, so that’s probably why I’m acting weird.”
“And why are you feeling weird? Since we’re into sharing our feelings now.”
Becca pressed her lips together and scooched closer to the table. She leaned in and inhaled, searching my face. “OK,” she said. “OK, but you have to promise not to get pissed.”
“Oh boy, that’s always a good sign.”
“I’m serious, Mason.”
“All right, all right.” I lifted a hand. “I won’t get pissed. I swear. Now, spill. You’ve got me on the edge of my seat here. Literally.”
“I quit at the practice two days ago.”
“What?!” I sat back again, taking that in. “Why?”
“Well, you know how the medical board reviewed the case that Perry opened against you and let you keep your medical license?” she asked.
“Yeah?” It had been more than a huge relief. We’d celebrated it last week with a home-cooked meal. Rebecca had done most of the cooking, since it was in her wheelhouse, and I’d done most of the distracting with my fingers, mouth, and other appendages, since that was in mine.
“Turns out, they reviewed the case that I opened against Perry, and he’s not suspended either. He returned to work a couple days ago. So, I outright quit. No notice. Crown was understanding about it, though. I feel kinda bad for leaving him in the lurch without a replacement, but I just couldn’t be around that cheeseball a second longer. So now, I’m out of a job.”
And so was I. “Shit,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Well, shit. Why would I be mad about you quitting?”
“Not about quitting, just about not telling you that Perry was back.”
“He didn’t try anything, did he?” The anger I’d sworn I’d hold at bay flooded in. I made a fist on top of the table and Rebecca reached across and brushed it with her fingertips. Slowly, she peeled my hand open, one finger at a time. “Becca?”
“No, he didn’t. You know I won’t stand for that shit. I just couldn’t picture myself working there with him. He’d only wind up making some unpleasant comment, and I’d probably pop him one in the jaw and end up fired anyway.”
I grinned at the image of her whacking Perry. The fucker had it coming in life. Some form of wake-up call that’d set him straight. Then again, it was probably too late for him to be set straight.
“So, I’m acting weird because I’m basically back to square one. There’s nowhere for me to work, and though the house is pretty much fixed up, thanks to all your hard work, I’m up a creek without a paddle.”
“I can help you out,” I said, immediately. “I’ve got plenty of savings. How much do you need to get by?”
“That’s really generous of you, but I don’t think it would be advisable. Or appropriate.”
“Fuck appropriate. You need help. I’m here to help,” I replied. “Consider it a loan until you can get back on your feet.”
“No, Mason, it’s really fine. I’ll just find somewhere else to work. There are plenty of receptionist jobs around.” She shrugged and took another swig of soda.
Just then, the waitress arrived with our food. A delicious home-cooked plate of lasagna for Becca, and a hamburger and fries for me. We tucked in, and I watched her eat. She savored every bite, shutting her eyes from time to time, a smile flitting across her lips.
“You shouldn’t get another receptionist job,” I said. “That’s not what you’re passionate about. You should get a job here, at Betsy’s.”
“I tried, remember?”
“Yeah, four weeks ago. Maybe she’s got an opening now,” I replied. “There’s no harm in asking. C’mon, angelface, if you’re not going to take my money at least humor me here by asking her. She’s behind the bar.” I gestured with a fry toward her.
Betsy was one of those rare people in Stoneport who didn’t make judgments on your character but simply got to know you for who you were. Then, if she really didn’t like you, she’d simply tell you the truth.
“Yeah, maybe I should,” Becca said and put down her fork, still laden with cheesy lasagna. “What could it hurt?”
“It couldn’t,” I replied.
“All right, be right back then.” She rose and touched two fingers to my hand. “Thanks. I appreciate your support, handsome.”
“Anytime.”
She walked off, shoulders back and her gorgeous ass swaying in her cutoff jeans, and I took the opportunity to admire her curves. OK, so my insistence on her asking Betsy if she had a position open wasn’t entirely selfless. I licked my lips and envisioned what I’d do to Becca the minute we got back to her place.
Unspeakable things.
I grinned and tucked into my hamburger. My mood had improved two-million-fold since meeting this woman. All the tension and bitterness had seeped out of me. I still had the occasional doubts, but I could dismiss them easier
now. Write them off as throwbacks to my previous relationship and the fuck-up it’d been.
The more time I spent with Becca, the easier it became to dismiss my shitty past and live in the present.
“Hey, Mace.” The voice froze all the happy feelings solid and replaced them with cool irritation. I looked up and met Tabitha’s gaze. She’d dyed her hair pale pink and wore even less clothing than the last time I’d run into her.
I focused on my burger again and chewed on. We’d moved past the point where we had anything to say to each other.
“Mind if I sit down?”
“What do you think, Tabitha?” I asked, finally placing my burger back in its basket. “As you can probably tell from the half-eaten fucking lasagna across from me, I’m not here alone. We’ve said everything we need to say to each other. Leave.”
“Mace, please. I know we’ve had a rocky past, but I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. I just—” Her bottom lip trembled. Tabitha slid into the seat opposite me with a beleaguered sigh. “I need someone to talk to, and I know you’ll understand.”
I stared at her blankly. Had she not heard me tell her I wasn’t interested in a discussion? This was typical Tabitha. Stubborn as shit and resistant to doing anything other than what she wanted to do.
“It’s about Perry,” Tabitha whined on, oblivious to my disdain for her. And my lack of interest. “He’s been acting strangely, Mace, and I’m just not sure what to make of it. I’m scared he’s losing interest in me.”
“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what he’s doing. Or what you’re doing for that matter. Fuck off, Tabitha.”
She jerked back and stared at me, as if I’d physically accosted her. “Mace—”
“Fuck off,” I repeated, calmly. My gaze moved past her to the fast-approaching figure—the ever-gorgeous Becca returning from the bar with a smile on her face. She spotted Tabitha, and it faltered. That only made me angrier. “Now.”
Tabitha snapped out of the chair, glaring hot daggers at me, which I casually ignored. She knew better than to throw that shit my way. It’d never worked while we’d been together, and it wouldn’t work now.
My ex huffed and spun around, spotted Becca, and stiffened. “Oh,” she said, loudly, “I see why you don’t want to talk, Mason. Still hung up on playing around with women way below your league. I guess some things never change.” She took two steps forward and met Becca head on. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you about him. You’ll regret ever having met him, mark my words.” She strode past Becca, bumping into her shoulder as she did, and made for the exit. The glass front door slapped shut behind her.
Becca slipped back into her seat across from me, a frown wrinkling that perfect forehead. “What was that about?”
“No idea. Some shit about Perry. I told her to get lost. Anyway, who gives one, right? What happened with you? What did Betsy say?”
She beamed back at me. “Turns out, she does have an opening. One of her fry cooks was in an accident yesterday, and she needs a replacement as soon as possible. Shoot, I probably shouldn’t be smiling given that the only reason there’s an opening is because someone got hurt.”
“Fuck that,” I replied. “That’s awesome. At least one of us has some prospects now.”
“Right?” Becca tucked into her lasagna happily. It was great to see her this way—smiling, kidding around, eating like a pig. Man, I loved how messy she was when she ate. “What about you?” she asked between bites. “Anything in the cards?”
“The cards say I’ll probably be living off my savings for a while longer,” I replied. “But that’s fine by me.”
“Maybe you should start your own practice?”
“I’ve thought about it,” I replied and left it at that, digging into my fries instead of expanding on the thought. The only problem with that was I’d signed a non-compete with Crown. I couldn’t set anything up for a good year. It was either go back and work with jackass Perry, which might be out of the question now, or figure something else out.
Either way, I’d made the damn decision to stay. Becca still didn’t know I’d planned on leaving, and I’d be more than fine with keeping it that way. Telling her now would only make her think I’d been using her at the start of our fling, which wasn’t true.
I’d been addicted to her. The moving had been pushed to the back of my mind.
Now that I was set on staying, all I had to do was unpack my boxes again. It’d take me an afternoon. An idea popped into my head.
“Hey,” I said and grabbed a napkin. I brushed off the corners of my mouth. “What do you say we celebrate tonight? You come over to my place around seven?”
“Your place, huh?” She raised an eyebrow.
I’d never invited her over, primarily because we’d been busy fixing up the Starr house, and partially because I’d been too busy to unpack my boxes.
“Yeah,” I replied. “My place. I’ve got something special planned. Candles, wine, a blanket, no clothes…”
“You sure know how to convince a girl,” Becca replied as she scraped a slice of bread through the meat sauce on her plate.
“I’ll take that as a yes?”
“Hell yes.” And there was no hesitation there, no fear. Fuck, this was insane. I’d planned on leaving Stoneport in my dust, and instead I’d found the one woman who made me want to stay.
“It’s a date,” I replied.
Chapter 26
Rebecca
I sat in the living room on the old sofa set Peggy had shipped down for me with Ty tucked against my side, holding the note.
Tabitha had slipped it into my handbag in the restaurant, or that was what I’d assumed, since I’d found it there after I’d gotten home and dug around for my cell inside my purse. Peggy was due to call me in a minute for a check-in, both about her pregnancy and my budding relationship with Mason, but I couldn’t stop reading and rereading the note.
You’d better back up because I’m watching you. If you don’t you’ll pay for it in ways you’ve only seen in your nitemares.
She’d spelled the word “nightmares” wrong, which kind of took the threat out of the note. I allowed myself a small smile, balled it up, and tossed it across the room, still stroking Ty’s soft, velvety ears.
I had about three hours to kill before my romantic celebration over at Mason’s house, and no amount of lame notes from Miss Drama Queen would dampen my mood. She was clearly threatened and jealous—it kinda made me glad, in a way, because it meant that she saw what I felt.
Mason was into me in a big way.
“Easy,” I whispered. “Easy.”
Ty gave a cute little puppy groan and wagged his tail, half asleep. I’d tired him out by playing catch in the yard and enjoyed every second of it. How was it possible that everything could be so perfect right now?
When I’d arrived in Stoneport, I’d been in the worst place, mentally. I’d been alone, emotionally bruised after Kieran’s betrayal, but determined to do the right thing, even though I’d had no prospects and nothing but my savings to drive this project—fix up the house, maybe make something out of it.
Now? Every minute was unbelievable. And it’s all thanks to Doctor Dunn.
My phone buzzed on the sofa next to me, and I lifted it, smiling at my sister’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hey, sis.”
“Hey, girl, how are you today?” Peggy asked.
“I’m pretty damn good,” I replied, grinning from ear to ear. I filled her in on everything that’d happened over the past couple days—quitting at the doctor’s office and finding a job at Betsy’s Place, as well as all the good stuff happening with Mason.
“Oh, that makes me so happy,” Peggy sighed. “See? I told you it was the right decision to go out with him. That kind of opportunity doesn’t just fall into a woman’s lap every day. If he’s as hot and sweet as you make him out to be, the man is a catch.”
“Don’t start,” I said, but grinned. “We’re still just enjoying ourselves.” M
y grin faded as my stomach bubbled. I pressed a hand to it and swallowed hard—nausea swam in my belly and up my throat, but I held it at bay. I’d been super stressed about everything lately, and whenever that happened, this was the result. I cleared my throat and forced myself to focus on Peg rather than the impending vom-fest. “What about you, sis? How’s the pregnancy going?”
“Entering the second trimester now,” Peggy said, “which is supposed to be the best pregnancy time because you’re not nauseated anymore, and the hormones aren’t as crazy. That’s what the internet says, anyway. Further proof that you shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet.”
“It’s bad?”
“Baby girl, about five minutes before I called you, Dave opened a jar of pickles in the kitchen, and I smelled it upstairs in my fucking bedroom. I threw up about two days’ worth of food. No shit.”
“There’s an image,” I said and gulped down my own nausea. This wasn’t exactly helping me with my current situation. “What about the other parts of it? Do you have any weird cravings? Other than pepperoni and anchovies on pizza.”
“Corn with melted chocolate,” Peggy replied, and slurped back saliva. “Oh my god, I just said that, and I nearly drooled everywhere. And salt and vinegar chips. So fucking good.”
“Easy. Easy. You’re starting to worry me.”
“Ha, whatever. You’ll realize I’m not crazy when you have a little poop machine of your own one day.”
“First off, I’m nowhere near ready for that kind of responsibility. I can barely fix up my house and my life as it is. And secondly, poop machine? Really?”
Peg laughed. “Oh honey, you know it’s basically shit and milk the first three months. They’re just sacks of human skin until then. I mean, loveable sacks of human skin, but they can’t even see properly that whole time. And they’re just crying all the time.” Peg sniffed. Was she crying?
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing. I guess I’m just nervous about what’s to come. You know how Mom was when I was little.”