by Ash, Nikki
“So, Tristan said you guys play softball?” I ask Gavin, hoping to change the subject.
“Yeah, we’re actually winning this year. Made it to the playoffs. But then our third baseman got hurt at work, threw out his back. I need to find someone before the playoffs next weekend. Any chance you play?” Gavin questions, making it hard to hate him.
Anyone else, I would say no to, but the guy has already recruited Tristan, so of course I’m going to say yes. Tristan chuckles under his breath, and I shoot him a glare. “Mason wouldn’t be interested in playing a puss—”
“Yeah, I’ll play,” I say, cutting off Tristan, who barks out a laugh. The women look from Tristan to me confused, but neither of them ask what’s going on.
“Cool. We have practice tonight. Can you make it?”
“Sure.” And then I remember it’s not just me anymore, so I add, “As long as it’s okay with Mila.” I move my hand to her thigh, but she pushes it off and rolls her eyes.
“I don’t care. I need to use the restroom.” She stands and Charlie stands as well. Fucking women don’t even need to speak to communicate. Once they’re gone, Tristan chuckles.
“That was real subtle.”
“What?” I throw my hands up in the air.
“She mentioned having a baby and you about passed out on the spot.”
I glance over at Gavin then glare at Tristan, not wanting to have this conversation in front of Mila’s ex-husband. He catches my drift, but it’s too late because Gavin says, “Just let it go. She’ll get over it…” He shrugs, then adds, “Or actually, maybe you shouldn’t. I let it all go, and it ended with us divorced.” He shakes his head. “Anything I say, you should probably do the opposite.”
Tristan laughs, and I wonder how the hell this is my life. I glance over at Mila walking back over to the table. She’s still dressed in her aqua blue scrubs with yellow ducks all over them, but it doesn’t stop her from looking sexy as hell. Her hair is up in a high ponytail, exposing her neck that I could spend hours kissing. Her lips are a tad bit shiny, and I would bet my left nut if I kissed her right now she would taste of raspberry from her favorite lip gloss she puts on every time she washes her hands.
She stops by the video game Alec is playing, and he must say something funny because she throws her head back with a laugh. And in that moment, I know how this became my life. That woman. I’m completely in love with her, and if she wants fifty goddamned kids I would give them to her, and then I would work my ass off to make sure they’re all taken care of.
Not able to be away from her for another second, I get up and cut across the room to her. She spots me coming over and smiles softly, but it’s not the smile she was just sporting. It’s a fake, cheapened version, and I don’t like it one bit. When I’m close enough to her that I can touch her, I place my hands on her hips and push her against the side of the video game out of view from Alec.
“Mason,” she says, shocked. My hands go around her body until they’re resting on her perfect ass. My lips pressing kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Mila lets out a soft sigh, and I love how my touch can relax her so quickly.
“I’ll give you twenty little girls if that’s what you want,” I murmur into her ear so only she can hear me. Her arms come around my neck and she pushes me back slightly.
“What?” Her brows furrow.
“I’ll give you twenty little girls,” I repeat. “Although, Alec may kill us,” I joke. “But if that’s what you want, I’m down.”
“You just about hyperventilated at the mention of one, and I was only joking.” She arches a brow. “Plus, you can’t determine the sex. We could end up with twenty boys.”
I kiss her lips—and smile to myself when I taste the raspberry. “But you do want a baby?” She shrugs. “Remember the part of our vows about leading?”
“Okay! Yes, one day I would like another baby, and sure, I would love a little girl, but I wouldn’t care if it’s a boy. But not any time soon, I swear.”
“Promise me when you’re ready, you’ll come talk to me.” I kiss her lips again.
“I promise.”
“Good, and until then…” I waggle my eyebrows. “I’ll look up the positions that are best for making girls.”
Mila laughs. “It doesn’t work like that! It’s not like, ‘Oh, let’s do it doggy-style’ and you’ll shoot out only girl sperm.”
“We’ll see,” I say, already pulling my phone out to google it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Mila
“Thank you so much for coming today.” Dawn Corbin, the journalist for People Magazine shakes Mason’s hand and then mine one more time. We both thank her for having us before we head out of the office. I’m still in shock over all this. When we arrived at two o’clock, I figured we would answer a couple questions, take a picture, and then be home for dinner by five. Luckily, tonight is Gavin’s night, and he picked up Alec from school, because I never would’ve made it to pick him up on time. It’s already close to seven o’clock and we’re finally leaving.
After answering questions for what felt like hours, we were whisked into wardrobe, hair, and makeup. And yes, I said we, because Mason is totally wearing freaking makeup. He didn’t even seem fazed by it, which makes sense since he’s done a million professional photo shoots. I just never realized he was wearing makeup in any of them. They took several photos of Mason and me and then several of Mason alone.
When we get outside, Mason’s assistant-slash-publicist comes around the corner, throwing his cigarette onto the ground. “You all done?”
“Yep.” Mason bumps his fist against Kenny’s. “Thanks again for making sure no questions were asked about my mom.”
“Of course, man, this isn’t our first rodeo. Dawn said she’ll have the article and photos for you to proof by the end of the week, and the money will be transferred once you approve it all.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t forget I’m going to need to transfer the money for my new car back over to you,” I remind Mason, and he grins.
“We’ll handle it.”
“How much was it?” I ask. The floor model didn’t have a price, but Mason assured me I would be okay, and I trusted him not to let me spend more than I’ll make from going to this interview.
“Um…I can’t remember off the top of my head.”
“The BMW you purchased?” Kenny asks.
“Yeah, he lent me the money.”
“I think it was a hundred—”
Mason cuts him off. “Kenny, don’t you need to get home to your boyfriend?”
“A hundred what?” I ask Kenny, ignoring Mason. Surely, the SUV wasn’t a hundred thousand dollars.
“Um… yeah, I do.” He gives Mason an apologetic look.
“Mason…”
Mason slides his arm around the back of my shoulders and pulls me into his side. “Well, have a good night. Since we’re in the area, I’m taking my wife out to dinner to her favorite restaurant.” I look up at Mason, silently asking him to clarify. “Fondue, of course.”
“How did you know I love—” And then I remember he was GetHooked and it was mentioned on my profile.
“The place that sells way-too-expensive cheese?” Kenny asks.
“Yep!” Mason laughs.
“Well, I guess you can afford it now.” Kenny winks, and Mason laughs harder.
“Yeah, yeah.” Mason fist bumps Kenny once more. “See-ya.”
“Bye.” I wave to Kenny. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You as well. Keep this guy in line for me, will ya?”
“Of course.” I lift up on my tiptoes and give Mason a chaste kiss on his cheek. Once we part ways with Kenny, I ask again. “How much was the SUV?”
“It doesn’t matter. Do you like it?”
“You know I do. I love it.”
“Then consider it my wedding gift to you.” Hearing the frustration in Mason’s voice, I let it go for now, but the minute I get the money I’ll be payin
g him back. And if he won’t let me pay for the SUV, I’ll find another way to pay him back.
We arrive at The Melting Pot in Thousand Oaks and I’m surprised to learn Mason made a reservation. The hostess sits us at a booth, and when Mason goes to sit next to me, I stop him. “Oh no. I need all this room.” I spread my hands across the table.
Mason chuckles. “Jesus, woman. It’s just cheese.”
“Uh-uh.” I shake my head. “It’s fondue. Sit over there.” I point to the booth across from me. We both silently peruse the menu, and a few minutes later a waitress greets us.
“I’m Michelle, and I’ll be your waitress this evening. Have you ever dined with us?”
“I have,” I say.
“I’m a cheese virgin,” Mason replies, and the waitress blushes.
“Do you know what you would like to order, or can I help you go through the menu?”
Before Mason can answer, I say, “I know what we’re ordering.”
Chapter Thirty
Mason
I’m sitting across from Mila instead of next to her at The Melting Pot—some ridiculously-priced restaurant that serves hot cheese—because apparently, she needs room to get her cheese on. The waitress asks about the menu, and before I can even blink, Mila is ordering without even looking at the menu.
“We would like the Classic Fondue for two. Extra shrimp instead of pork. Two house salads with the sweet and tangy dressing, cheddar cheese with beer, and for the dinner, we would like bourguignonne.” She stops speaking—I think to breathe—and then adds, “And we would like extra mushrooms.” She hands the waitress the menus. “Oh! And for dessert, we’ll have the s’mores. Thanks.”
The waitress finishes writing and looks up. “I guess you have been here before.”
“Yeah.” Mila smiles but then she frowns.
The waitress asks what we’d like to drink, and after we both tell her water, she says she’ll be back out with the first course and our waters in a few minutes.
“What made you frown?” I ask once the waitress walks away.
“I used to come here with Gavin. Well, not this one. The one in Los Angeles before it shut down.”
“And that has you frowning?”
“I didn’t even think about the fact that we used to come here. I’m not sure if you’re supposed to bring your new husband to the same place your ex-husband used to take you.”
“It’s just a restaurant, Mila.” I play it off, secretly reminding myself to look up where else I can find another cheese place.
“Yeah, but it’s the only place Gavin would bring me to. He hated it here, but he agreed to come once a year for our anniversary…when we could afford it.” She frowns again. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
I push myself out of the booth and slide in next to her, turning to face her. Taking her hands in mine, I pull them up to my lips and kiss her knuckles “I’m playing on the same softball team with the guy. We had dinner with him just last night…Hell, he was giving me advice on what not to do when it comes to you.” Mila groans, and I chuckle. “I think it’s okay we’re eating at a restaurant you guys ate at.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. Okay, back over to your side! I need room to cook my food.”
“Not happening. Now that I’m near you, you aren’t getting rid of me.” I give her a kiss and she pouts but lets me stay.
The waitress comes over, sets down our waters, and places a small pot on a burner. She starts naming off the ingredients as she pours each one into the pot and stirs. I look over at Mila who’s grinning like a fool at the food. It’s definitely cheddar cheese, but it looks like there’s only enough for a damn mouse.
“Is this all you can eat?” I ask.
“Excuse me?” The waitress tilts her head to the side as she sets down a small bowl of cut-up bread and some diced apples.
“Will you bring us more when we run out?”
Mila giggles. “No, there are three other courses.”
“Babe.” I look at Mila. “I’m a growing boy. The next course better be triple this size.”
“Oh, hush!” She laughs. Then to the waitress she says, “Thank you.”
I stay seated next to Mila as she shows me what to do—shove a piece of bread or apple onto the two-pronged fork and dip it into the melted cheese. She alternates between eating her pieces and feeding me, and while the food isn’t filling in the slightest, I’m enjoying her company. When we’re done with the cheese, we get our salads, and after those, the meat is brought out. Now, when I read the menu it listed several types of meats and vegetables. So, here I am thinking I’m about to get a nice-sized meal. Imagine my shock when Michelle sets down a ceramic plate that is no more than ten inches long and four inches wide, and on the plate are bite size pieces of each meat. Next, she places a tiny bowl of vegetables on the table, and then she places an additional bowl of mushrooms in front of Mila.
And you ready for the kicker? It’s all fucking raw!
“Okay, I know you’ve done it before, but just as a reminder, chicken is four minutes, shrimp is three minutes, and steak is anywhere from two to four minutes depending on how you like it. Potatoes are four minutes, and stuffed mushrooms are three minutes.”
“Thank you!” Mila gushes.
“I’m sorry.” I glance from the uncooked food to the waitress. “Are we supposed to cook this ourselves?”
The waitress frowns. “Um… yeah?”
“Let me get this straight.” I look from the waitress to Mila. “We pay hundreds of dollars for food that even a mouse would still be hungry after eating, and to top it off, we have to cook our own food?”
“Um…yeah?” the waitress says again.
“It’s not about the quantity, Mason,” Mila chides. “It’s about the experience.”
The waitress’s lips turn into a tight smile. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Babe.” I turn back toward Mila. “I’m going to need to experience a whole lot more food than this.”
“You’ll be full once we’re done. Trust me. It doesn’t look like a lot but it’s filling. Plus we have dessert coming too.” She plants a wet kiss on my cheek and then stabs the raw shrimp with her fork, dips it into some orange batter looking shit, and puts it into the hot oil to cook.
We get done eating and I pay the bill. As we walk out to my car, Mila hugs my waist and says, “That was so good! And I’m so full. Thank you for bringing me here! Did you like it?”
“Yeah, it was good,” I say honestly, because it was good. Aside from having to cook my own damn food, the meat was flavorful, the stuffed mushrooms were delicious, and I fully enjoyed feeding her chocolate covered strawberries. “But next time”—I wrap my arm around her and give her a quick kiss to her temple—“we’re going by the steakhouse on the way.”
Mila snorts. “It’s about the experience!” she whines, and I laugh.
“And I totally get that. But next time I’m going to need to experience a twenty-four ounce sirloin strip before we come here.”
“I give up!” She sighs. “I love it, so more for me.”
Once we’re home, Mila excuses herself to take a shower. While she’s in there, I undress out of my clothes and throw on a pair of sweatpants. I go through the mail I finally picked up from my post office box and find a couple envelopes from my attorney. I stick them into my drawer to deal with later. It’s probably contract stuff since I’m due to renew my UFC contract soon. Grabbing my laptop from the kitchen, I get comfortable on the bed and start going through emails. I pay a couple bills and make a transfer to Mila’s account for my portion of our bills.
I hear the shower turn off, and a few minutes later, she appears. She’s got her plush cream-colored robe wrapped around her body and a fluffy towel wrapped around her head. She’s free from all that makeup they made her wear for the photoshoot, and she looks fucking beautiful.
“Whatcha doing?” She comes over and sits on the edge of the bed, her robe parting down the middle slightly, re
vealing the swell of her breasts. Pushing the laptop to the side, I lift her up so she’s straddling my lap. Her body is still damp from the shower, and I can feel her hot, bare pussy against my crotch. She wraps her arms around my neck, and her fingers run through my hair, massaging my scalp. I’ve had sex with so many damn women the last several years and not a single one of those sexual experiences compare to simply having this woman sitting on my lap.
My hands move across her hips and belly, and when I get to her middle, I undo the tie holding the material together, separating her robe the rest of the way until she’s completely naked in front of me. My eyes lock on her luscious tits and pert nipples before I glance up to her face. She’s staring at me, her fingers still massaging my scalp.
“I was paying some bills. I transferred money to you for my half of the bills,” I say, answering her question. “Now, I’m admiring my wife’s naked body.”
I bring my hand around to her nape and pull her face toward me for a kiss. The second our lips touch, my gut tightens. I feel it every time we kiss. It’s as if my body needs her to flourish. Her touch, her kiss, our connection, it breathes air into my lungs and allows me to keep living. It’s as if, until the day I allowed myself to need her, I wasn’t really living, just merely surviving. I never imagined ever depending on someone else for anything. I swore I never would. The hardest thing I ever did was live with Tristan’s family when I was eighteen. But even then, I made sure to never eat any of their food, to buy all my own toiletries, and contribute in any way I could.
But this need… it’s different. It’s inside of me. Mila doesn’t ask for anything materialistic. I’ve seen her bank account and she’s broke. She literally lives paycheck to paycheck just like my mom did. But she doesn’t bitch about it or blame anybody. She doesn’t make Alec feel like he’s a burden or point fingers at her ex-husband, who, let’s be real, can afford to give her more since his real estate company is doing damn good. She’s the strongest woman I know and I wish my mom could’ve had half her strength.
