35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Mason

Even as I sat in a beautiful dining room surrounded by a family that was not quite mine, all of us dressed in matching Halloween-themed jammies, I couldn’t shake the anxiety I felt about that missed call from my dad’s assistant. I knew my dad was on tour when I left France, and I knew he was going to be pissed when he got back and realized I was gone. Still, he had never resorted to indirect lines of communication.

Was he really so angry he couldn’t bear to speak to me?

“Masie, you’re not coloring,” Juniper chimed beside me, nudging the purple crayon in my hand.

My cheeks warmed as I looked down at her. Sophia had put the twins in bat-covered footie pajamas, complete with hoods sporting ears and fangs. Juniper opted not to cover her head, leaving her dark spiral pigtails to frame her cherub-esque cheeks. Jasper’s ebony mop was completely hidden as he intently colored the pumpkin on his page with a neon blue crayon.

“Juniper Noelle, are you buggin’ our special friend again?” Cameron called as he walked in from the kitchen, black serving tray in hand.

“No, Papa.” Juniper sighed before resuming coloring.

The scent of toasted vanilla and butter emanated from whatever he was carrying, causing me to salivate. He slid the snacks into place, but I wasn’t interested in investigating the delicious treats; I was busy staring at his body. His crimson sweatpants did a terrible job of hiding the fact that he was hung like a porn star. The universe had a funny sense of humor, giving such a massive cock to a preacher.

“My eyes are up here,” he mouthed, and a small squeak escaped my lips.

Juniper shot us a glance, but Jasper couldn’t care less. Cameron bent down, his dark tee shirt straining against his biceps as he placed a hand on my forehead. His brow deepened as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

“You alright?” he whispered, adjusting the position of his hand, flipping it back and forth like that would change anything. “You’re lookin’ a bit pale.”

My pulse leapt to my throat as I forced the surprisingly-convincing fake smile my mother had taught me all those years ago. Over the past few weeks, I’d confided in him about some of the ways I’d suffered in the name of winning my dad’s affection. I hadn’t meant to tell him about any of it, honestly, but Cam was just so easy to talk to. He was kind, a great listener, and he never judged me even if I deserved it.

After everything I had told Cameron about my dad, he pulled me aside one night and asked me not to talk to my father again. At first, I thought he was crazy, and I told him as much. But Cameron explained that he knew what it was like to have a father who did more harm than good. At the time, I didn’t push for any information Cameron didn’t willingly offer, but I almost wished I had. Maybe he had some divine wisdom on how not to worry about someone you’re better off without, or a story about how he refrained from responding when his dad reached out. I’m sure if I asked, he’d have some anecdote to tell me, but... I didn’t feel like I deserved the comfort.

“Yeah,” was all I could manage as I snagged a still-warm cookie off the tray.

They were mostly purple, with a small waving ghost in the center. I took the tiniest bite from the corner, allowing the taste of pre-made sugar cookie to fill my senses. But my blissful break-and-bake reverie was interrupted by Cameron’s gaze, burning into mine with the intensity of an inferno. A nervous sweat beaded on the back of my neck as I shifted under the weight of his scrutiny.

He inched closer, and it felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“Are you lyin’ to me?”

My throat went dry, and I nearly choked on the crumbs of the half-chewed sweet in my mouth. I shook my head as the smoky scent of his cologne stole any coherent thought I had. Cameron closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath.

He shifted closer still. I thought he was going to kiss my cheek, but the sound of a coughing child interrupted him.

Cam stiffened, then gave my hair a light ruffle as he pulled away. My heart sank to my stomach. He, Lucian, and Sophia had been very clear that their children wouldn’t know about our relationship until they were all one hundred percent sure I’d stay. I understood their reasoning; I wasn’t even sure if I would stay. But it always killed me when they withdrew their affection.

The creaking of the stairs cut the tension in the air. After another beat of silence, Sebastian rounded the corner. He was overdressed in a light-colored sweater and jeans, but I was glad he was here.

The warmth in Cameron’s gaze froze over as they settled on my beloved detective. Sebastian swore he and Cam had reconciled their differences several weeks ago after Seb confessed his feelings, but I had to wonder if he’d been truthful with me.

Sebastian cleared his throat as he closed the distance between us with long, confident strides. Disgust snuck into his features as he picked up a cookie, turning it over in his hand.

“These are terrible for you,” he stated, returning it to the plate. “Artificial color, preservatives, and not to mention—”

“You done?” Cameron challenged. “We’re trying to have a fun night with our family.”

Sebastian raised his brows before pulling out the chair beside Jasper.

“Uncle Bash is family,” Jasper mumbled.

“Unfortunately,” Juniper said, using a tone I’d heard many times in Lucian’s voice. I choked on my laughter. I didn’t want to add tension to the situation, but there was something so adorable about the way Juniper imitated her father.

“Juniper Noelle,” Cameron scolded. “We don’t talk like that.”

“Daddy does.”

Her protest made my giggles harder to contain. I hoped my daughter would have the same spunk and sharp tongue as Juniper.

Cameron shot her his signature disappointed dad look, and she crossed her arms and huffed before turning to Sebastian.

“So-rry.”

Sebastian studied her little face, and I wished I could read his mind. I wasn’t trained to read body language like he was, but it was obvious that Juniper apologized out of obligation, not remorse. Sebastian’s enraged expression suggested that he was beyond fed up with the three feet of unadulterated sass sitting before him.

“Alright!” Sophia’s voice echoed from the middle of the house. “I found the pumpkins! We can decorate now.”

She rounded the corner with a cardboard box in hand, dressed in a onesie that matched the twins’. Sophia had to be the only adult on the planet who still looked sexy in footie pajamas.

“Masie, why aren’t you wearing the jammies I got you?” She pouted, setting the box on the table.

Because I belong to the vast majority of adults who look ridiculous in onesies.

I wasn’t going to tell Sophia that, though. She’d argue that point until eventually forcing me into the pajamas.

“I pee too often.” I leaned back on my chair, rubbing the curve of my stomach through my shirt.

“Ugh, fine. Maybe next year.”

The way Sophia spoke made the future sound definite, as if she knew something I didn’t. Unfortunately, nothing was set in stone. This time next year, Sebastian and I would be in Portland in a house that looked far too large for a family of three. A pit formed in my stomach when I realized how quiet our new life would be, and I wondered if I’d miss the chaos that came with the large family we lived with now.

I shook the thought off as Sophia opened the box. Pumpkin-shaped ornaments rattled against each other as she pulled one out with a wad of tissue paper.

“Here.” She extended the bulb to me. “Since it’s your first year decorating, it’s only right if you hang the first ornament.”

My hand shook as I reached for the decoration. I hadn’t decorated a tree since I left America the last time. What if I put it in the wrong spot? Was there even a right spot to hang it?

Sophia shook the small jack-o’-lantern toward me, and a wave of impending panic cascaded over me. Tsunamis of anxiety threatened to break the fragile flood walls keeping them contained... until Jasper hopped out of his chair and shuffled over to me. His little face was pinched as he took two of my fingers in one hand and reached the other toward the glass pumpkin in his mother’s hands.

“I’m helping,” he promised.

If that request had come from Juniper, Sophia probably would have hesitated, but Jasper wasn’t the type for mischief. So, she handed him the ornament, and he tugged on my hand, letting me know it was time to get up.

Together, we wandered hand in hand toward the massive tree in the middle of the two-story foyer. Next to it, I felt minuscule; the topmost branches rose high above the stairs and the second-story landing, nearly brushing the ceiling upstairs. Subtle heat from the numerous twinkling bulbs kissed my nose as I studied the pine up close. Slowly, I took a knee so I could look Jasper in his emerald eyes. Intense determination radiated from them as he passed me the bulb and pointed to a branch just above his head.

“I like it there.”

And that’s all it took for me to hang the bulb on the tree. The goofy grin on the jack-o’-lantern spun in a lazy, wobbly circle as I pulled my hand away. Jasper patted my back, as if he was congratulating a teammate after a winning game.

“Good job,” he complimented before toddling back to the table.

I remained crouched on the ground, slightly confused. I never expected to be bossed around by a three-year-old, but his determination to drag me into his little family warmed my heart.

If I did end up staying… I had a feeling I’d be happy here.

After we finished decorating, I started heading upstairs with Sebastian, but Sophia reminded me that Lucian still needed to be punished. Upon hearing this, Sebastian gagged and fled to the safety of his apartment.

After Seb’s sudden exodus, Cameron and Sophia began the multi-step process of putting the kids to sleep. I felt like I’d be intruding if I offered to help, so I hid in Lucian’s room while listening to the sound of laughter floating through the house.

Would they be this happy if I stayed?

An icy feeling crept down my back, and I channeled it into something constructive: music. A universal language, the perfect vehicle to convey the emotions of the performer. Words were optional, but heart wasn’t. Once I became a celebrity, nobody would let me write my own music anymore. None of my songs lived to see the light of day. I would’ve loved for people to hear what I had to say, even if I wasn’t the one singing. To be honest, I probably would have been less sad if I had stopped at being a songwriter, rather than a musician.

Maybe in another life, I could have had everything I wanted.

I rummaged through Lucian’s drawers to find a notebook and a pen. I’d make sure to steal the paper I wrote on and stick it in my book of lyrics that were far too soft to be performed by my edgy stage persona.

I sat across from Pearl’s terrarium, watching her slither through the dark substrate. She climbed atop the small log in the center of her glass kingdom, basking regally in the warmth radiating from her heat lamp.

That’s when inspiration fully struck.

I poured my heart onto the page, red ink staining the side of my hand as I wrote. The rest of the world didn’t matter while I was writing, and the more I wrote, the more I was dying to get out. By the time I finished, tears were streaming down my face, and I couldn’t breathe.

But just as I prepared to reread and revise what I had, there was a commotion from the front door.

“Put me down!” Lucian commanded. “I hate being picked up; you know that!”

“You should have thought about that before you called Soph a bitch.” Cameron drawled. My heart swelled at their voices and the idea that they would willingly allow me to join their slice of paradise.

“I didn’t call Sophia a bitch! I said she was my —ugh, Mason, help!”

A laugh replaced my tears. I slammed the notebook closed before venturing out to join the fun.