Keep Happy

by A. C. Bextor

  However, my little girl is no undercover agent. She’s been spotted by Mason at every turn. So far he’s not said a word, only looked at me and shook his head with a grin. But I know him, and he’s never been one to let something go. It’s only a matter of time before Averie gets what’s coming.

  “You two wanna make out when Amelia and I go to bed,” she jabs, crossing her arms over her chest and standing in the mouth of the hall. “I get it. Amelia sends me outta the room the same way.”

  “I do not!” Amelia admonishes, looking up from her Kindle to glare at her sister. “Mom! You know I don’t.”

  “Amelia, she’s teasing.”

  Amelia’s been quiet the entire evening. She hasn’t said a word to Mason, but she’s also not left the room because of him either.

  Progress.

  Just as I’m about to speak, Mason steps in. “Amelia, brace, ‘cause you may not wanna hear this.”

  And there it is. What I knew was coming. Mason’s had his share of sass.

  Amelia’s ponytail flies through the air as she aims her concentration to him.

  Mason turns his focus to Averie, leaning her hip against the wall. Her eyes are wide, anticipating her opponent’s next move.

  With patience, he states, “I had a really nice time with you and Amelia tonight.”

  “Well, yeah,” she smarts, not letting him finish.

  “And though it’s not your business, I’ll tell you what your mother and I are gonna do after you go to bed.”

  Oh, hell. Please be careful.

  Powering on, he first explains, “She’s gonna hold my hand and walk me to the front door.”

  I know where this is going. And my girls have not grown accustom to the way Mason expresses himself yet.

  Interrupting, I place my hand on Mason’s knee. “Let’s just—”

  Mason carries forward, sweetly settling his hand on top of mine. Which was certainly not my intent. Averie watches, directing her gaze to anything but his face.

  He doesn’t mind as he says, “Then she’s gonna let me give her a long kiss goodnight.”

  Shit.

  “After that, she’s gonna smile how I like her to, and if I’m lucky, she’ll reach up and touch my face.”

  Oh, my God.

  “Gross!” Averie scolds.

  My eyes flip to Amelia where I find she’s suppressing a laugh. No help there, then. Great.

  Happy to prove his point, Mason continues with, “She’s gonna tell me she had a nice evening and that she can’t wait to do it again.”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying this to my twelve-year-old daughter,” I whisper, my gaze moving back to Averie, who’s staring intently at the target of her torment.

  “If I’m lucky, she’s gonna let me kiss her again.”

  “Dear God, Mason,” I utter. “Please tell me this is you trying to be funny,” I harsh out my words and scold, “You are not a funny person!”

  Mason turns to me and shakes his head slowly. His glare is intense, making it known he’s serious. He’s got a point to prove and he’s set about doing that.

  Then he’s back at Averie. “And she’ll do this because she likes me, trusts me, and knows I’m a good guy.”

  “Mason, honey, maybe—”

  “So you do or don’t wanna make out with my mom?” Averie questions again, clearly not ready to listen to Mason Cole’s version of dating.

  Mason grins. “How about you do what your mother asked you to do, so I can finish watching the credits of this chic flic and go about ending my dinner date with all of you.”

  Averie, not bowing to Mason’s chastising way of putting her in place, switches subjects to state, “Sixteen Candles is not a chic flic!”

  “It is.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Did I just watch a girl kiss a guy at the end?”

  “Well, of course,” Averie remembers what we just watched.

  “Chic flic. They don’t kiss in Die Hard.”

  Amelia and I share a look, each anticipating at what point Averie’s head will start to spin.

  “Technically,” Amelia dives in, speaking directly to Mason for the first time this evening. “There is a kiss at the end of Die Hard.”

  “Doesn’t count if the hero burns shit to the ground for two hours in order to save his woman.”

  “Whatever,” Amelia mumbles.

  Averie stands straight, grabs her books from the top of the television stand, and says, “Good thing I like you, McButterpants.”

  “Good thing,” he dutifully returns.

  “I’m off to wash my teeth and change,” Averie announces as though her idea. Shouting from her room, she gets out, “Miss me!”

  Amelia stares after her, a grin hiding under her device.

  Mason looks to the ceiling, exhaustion blanketing his face.

  I giggle and return to Averie, “We always do.”

  “This is shit, Cole,” David tells me. “How the hell does that son of a bitch just get up one morning and walk himself out of a maximum security prison?”

  An hour ago, after the girls had gone to bed, Katie’s dad pulled up in the driveway. This came as no surprise to me. But it was to her.

  Katie stood at her living room window and paced, panicked as if we’d been caught in a relationship red-handed.

  However, I was the one who called David before coming over. I knew telling Katie about Marcos would send her reeling. I used the only card I had to play, which was to get her father here for support.

  “I know it’s shit, David,” I return. “That’s why I’m tellin’ you.”

  As we stand on the porch, he looks out into the front yard and crosses his arms over his chest.

  “What do you need from me?” he questions.

  “Vigilance. We know he’s here, in the area or he’s fuckin’ close. If you’re at the house, or out with the girls, or with Katie, keep an eye out.”

  “Think he’d be stupid enough to make a direct approach?”

  “I think he’s desperate. And desperate is dangerous.”

  After David came inside, and I sat them both down and explained what I believe is still coming, Katie was wired. She shot off several pertinent questions, just as I knew she would. She’s familiar with Marcos, his crimes, his trial, and conviction. The idea he’s out on the street terrifies her.

  “Got her address on radar already. A squad car will be parked in her driveway every night going forward. With a man inside it.”

  “That’s somethin’,” he notes. He nods back to the front door and starts, “You and Katie….” He pauses, likely either still trying to wrap his head around seeing us together or deciding whether he’ll support the relationship or not. “You two are together now.”

  “We are.”

  David Morris has been a good father. A solid role model in this community. He loves his daughter, so he’s skeptical about the changes in her life. I get it.

  At this, I turn to face him directly. He has more to say, or he wouldn’t have said anything at all.

  “Now’s the time,” I prod.

  Doing as I did, David rests his back on the house and relaxes. “Suppose it is.”

  “All I’m gonna say is that I love your daughter and I always have.”

  “You think I’d question that?” He tenses. “Hell, of all things, your love for Katherine is the one piece of this I’m absolutely convinced is true.”

  “Then what aren’t you convinced of?”

  “Amelia and Averie.”

  Yes. A good man.

  “The girls are as good as they can be with this.”

  “But are you?” he comes back. “You don’t have kids of your own that I know of. And I love those girls, but I’ll tell you, the age they are right now? They aren’t easy to handle.”

  “Averie rarely leaves my side when I’m in a room,” I explain and his eyebrows lift. “She had just met me and conned me into taking her for ice cream. Tomorrow, I’m taking her shopping.”


  “Your turn this year, huh?” He smiles.

  “Amelia’s at an age I’m not sure she trusts anyone, but I’m guessing with enough time she’ll come around, if only because she’ll see her mom is happy.”

  “Amelia has every right to be pissed,” he includes. “Thomas didn’t only step out on Katherine. He betrayed all of them.”

  No way to know if Katie ever told her dad about us and what we’d done while she was married. Even if she did, I don’t think that would make a difference.

  Giving David what I know, I explain, “May take some more time to gain the girls’ trust, but if I’m not wrong, I think I’ve already got it.”

  “I think you’ve already earned it,” he tells me. “And I may as well apologize to you now.”

  “For what?”

  “I played a part in Katherine’s decision to marry Thomas,” he admits with hesitation. “I knew she came undone when you left. She and I were close growing up, but never like that. I pushed, tried to convince her Thomas would give her a stable life.”

  “He did,” I return. “For the most part.”

  David’s jaw tenses as he looks to the ground.

  “He broke her,” he says, his tone angry but regretful. “I lost my sweet girl when he did what he did. She was never the same. She was a ghost going through motions.”

  “You knew about Thomas?”

  Shaking his head, he says, “Small town. Katherine never told me herself, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t know. Everyone did.”

  “She loves her kids,” I tell him. “She wanted to give them everything she could. Including a happy homelife.”

  “In that respect, I’m proud of her,” he responds. “She stuck it out, thick and thin until she couldn’t anymore.”

  “I’ll never hurt her,” I reassure. “As long as I’m alive, she’ll keep every bit of happy she deserves.”

  “And that’s exactly why I kept in contact after you’d left. I’m thankful now I did.”

  “I am too.”

  “Thank you, Cole.” When he extends his hand, I accept and he finishes with, “And I’ll let you know if I see or hear anything from Marcos.”

  “Appreciated.”

  As David walks to his car, the front door opens. Katie steps out onto the porch and into my side. He turns around and waves, she does the same.

  Thank fuck that’s all over.

  “HOW BAD YOU WANNA KISS my mom right now?” Averie torments, standing next to Mason inside the still open front door.

  He stands in the foyer, looking down at my smirking girl, and scowls. His jaw clenches and his body grows rigid. In reaction, Averie emits a small gasp.

  My eyes widen.

  Amelia gasps.

  Connie giggles.

  Shit.

  Averie’s been a quick study in the way of torturing Mason Cole. But with his and my agreement to take things slow-ish for the sake of the girls, he’s on edge. I’ll say, he’s made a valiant attempt of holding himself together. But his efforts have failed because standing before everyone here, Mason is clearly struggling.

  “Are you okay?” Averie questions, after hearing Mason’s low growl. “You look weird.”

  “Averie, honey. Shut the door,” I scold, waving my hand for her to leave him be.

  Mason casts a knowing glare, visually scaling every inch of my body. His focus stops at my chest where his gaze turns hungry.

  Yes. Clearly, Mason is struggling.

  “So, what are ya gonna do all day without us, Mom?” Amelia steps in, grabbing her small black purse and cramming her cell phone inside.

  Amelia seems fine to have settled at middle ground. She’s still not really talking to her father, and she won’t so much as look at Mason unless manners force her to respond, but over the last week, I’ve seen marked improvement toward others.

  “You ready to go shopping or not?” Mason berates Averie.

  “I’ve been ready. I was born ready,” she chides. “Question is, are you?”

  “Fuck,” he utters. “No. Probably not.”

  “Oh, this’ll be good,” Connie puts in, sliding her arms over Amelia’s shoulders. “A day with Averie and Cole. Wish we could see that.”

  “Glad we won’t,” Amelia comments, blithely.

  Mason’s phone rings, taking his attention away from her. He looks to the screen before answering. He signals it’s a call he needs to take. Averie watches as Mason turns on heel to step outside.

  “Should’ve let him kiss you,” Averie pronounces, coming to my side. Handing me a large brush and a ponytail holder, she turns to give me her back. “He’s in a mood. Maybe he’d be less cranky if you’d let him kiss you.”

  Ignoring her accurate assumption, I tell the girls and Connie, “I think I may clean the house today.”

  “Well, that’s boring,” Connie remarks. “But I guess if you’re doing that, you won’t be sitting around worrying about us.”

  “I’ll bring you back some bean dip from Sir Diablo’s,” Averie asserts. “McButterpants has never been to Diablo’s. We’re going after we finish shopping.”

  “Did he say he was taking you there?” Amelia questions with curiosity.

  “No, not yet. But he’ll take me,” Averie replies.

  Amelia rolls her eyes. “Good luck with that.”

  “Okay, so we’re gonna go,” Connie bids, pushing Amelia and guiding her toward the door. “We have spa day plans.”

  “I’ll be here when you get back.”

  “You should just come with us,” Amelia urges. “You like mani-pedis, and massages.”

  “Mason’s off the phone!” Averie shrieks from the bay window.

  Connie winks at me in reassurance and starts to pull Amelia. “Let’s go or we’ll miss our nail appointment.”

  As Mason enters, he’s met with Averie standing between us.

  “Give me a minute with your mom?” he requests.

  Request granted, kind of. Averie steps to the side but doesn’t move to leave the room.

  “A minute alone,” Mason hastens.

  “Eye-roll and gag,” Averie rebuts, shoulders slouched in mock annoyance.

  Mason raises his brows to watch her drag her feet through the mouth of the hall.

  “Are you okay?” I question.

  “No,” he returns, holding his distance.

  At least five feet separate from where he stands. Mason’s wearing another Henley, this one blue, dark to match his eyes. His jeans are dark as well, very worn, threadbare in places.

  Walking to him, I run my hands up his chest. His eyes alight with aggression. Secretly, I love the way he looks at me. As if I’m still not his and he’s still not able to touch me. As though if he doesn’t, his head will explode.

  “Honey,” I call in a tease. “You’re tense.”

  Backing me against the wall, Mason blankets his body to mine, shielding me in hiding for anyone to see. One hand at my chest, the other gliding its way down my pants.

  His mouth to my ear, his finger massaging my clit as another slides inside. Standing on my toes, I close my eyes and grab his shoulders for balance.

  As I gasp, he says, “I’m not tense.” His hips press forward, the steel of him pushing against my stomach. “I’m un-fucking-done.”

  Grabbing his wrists, I pull his head from my neck. “Averie is in the next room.”

  Focusing on only this, he questions, “Where the hell did you get those pants?”

  Looking between us, the erotic vision of his hand inside them, I aim to concentrate when giving, “I clean house in these.”

  Mason removes his hand, brings his finger to his lips and sucks viciously.

  “Cruel joke, whoever made pants like that,” he tells me. “Especially when I haven’t had you good in a while.”

  “Tonight,” I promise. “The girls are staying at Connie’s.”

  “The girls can stay home. I can hang around till they sleep.”

  I love he’s considerate, not expecting the girls to le
ave their home. Sweet gesture but… “I plan to make up for time lost.”

  “Girls can stay home,” he says again.

  “I mean, I plan to let you have me good all night.”

  “Girls can stay at Connie’s,” he agrees on a grin.

  “Be safe today,” I urge, keeping the nervous tension from my voice.

  I must have failed. Mason cups my cheek and reassures, “There’s nothing to worry about. Nothing touches them. Marcos is after me.”

  Nodding, I reflect, “But he may see Averie.”

  “Baby, he’d have to kill me to get to her. And I’m not big on the idea of dyin’.”

  “Mason, this doesn’t help.”

  “I’m motivated to get home and back to you,” he tells me. “Won’t miss tonight.”

  “Still doesn’t help.”

  “Katie, kiss me goodbye so I can take your girl shoppin’ and get back.”

  Doing as he’s told me, I lean up and put my lips to his. Mason grasps my hair and his mouth opens. I taste myself on his tongue, the heady mix and promise of tonight sends shivers down my thighs.

  “Gross,” Averie calls, entering the room. “I knew you wanted to kiss her.”

  Mason disconnects, but does so slowly. Before releasing me entirely, he bends to kiss my cheek.

  Walking to the door, he calls, “Let’s get this over with.” Then his gaze comes to mine and he points to the door, “Lock up after we leave.”

  “See you tonight?”

  “What time do the kids hit Connie’s?” he questions, keeping a two finger hold on the door.

  “After dinner. So, seven.”

  “See you tonight, then,” he replies and I nod. “Naked—in bed—under me by seven ten.”

  Of course.

  “YOU COULD TOTALLY ROCK THIS sweater vest,” Averie claims, holding up a purple cashmere, four sizes smaller than I normally wear. Sensing my disapproval, she adds, “The color matches some of your tattoos, right?”

  “No.” I deny that vest just as I denied the previous four.

  Shaking her head, she stands on her tiptoes and presses the garment against my chest. The top of the hanger nearly slams my jaw; I turn away to avoid being injured.