I followed his instructions until oxygen made its way back to my brain. As it did, I realized his hands still cupped my jaw. I pushed my chair back, and they fell away. The absence made me feel so incredibly alone. “Sorry about that.”
Mason frowned as he straightened. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“I just…” I searched for something, any excuse for my freak-out that would allow me to keep my boundaries intact. I’d already broken them once last night, letting a whole room of people know about something I’d never told anyone but Derek. I couldn’t take any more.
Mason’s jaw hardened as if he knew I was preparing to lie to him. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t weave some excuse to a man who’d been so incredibly kind to me over the past twenty-four hours.
“I went to prison. Juvenile detention. For almost three years. Drug possession. I never did drugs, and they weren’t mine, but that didn’t matter. You may not believe me, and that’s okay. I lived in a shelter almost every day since, until I moved into the director’s cottage. My parents will use all of that to try to take Justin and Lyla.”
My voice cracked, a sob breaking free, but I forced the tears down. “I can’t let my parents take them.”
Instead of seeing disgust or disbelief, I saw only understanding. Mason didn’t turn to leave or make an excuse. He didn’t slowly back away like I thought he would. He stayed. “We won’t let them take Justin and Lyla.”
“You can’t promise that. I’m running through everything in my head, and they’re the perfect parents on paper. All they ever wanted was for me to be the perfect daughter. And I couldn’t do it. Now, they’re going to use all of that against me. You don’t know them. You don’t know how good they are at manipulating everything and everyone around them. You’ll probably believe them, too.” My ribs began to ache as the muscles tightened again. “What am I going to do?”
I looked at Mason as if he could actually answer that. As if he could give me the path out of this nightmare of my making. He stared directly into my eyes. “It’s simple. Marry me.”
6
Mason
What in theever-loving hell had I just said? Had those words really come out of my mouth? They had. Because Anna was sitting here, desperate and panicked and broken. In the two years I’d been coming to the shelter, I’d never seen any of those emotions cross her face. And I would’ve done anything to take them away.
“Are you insane?”
One side of my mouth curved up. “Probably.”
“You can’t marry me.”
“Why not? I don’t have a wife. I’m not seeing anyone.”
She pushed up from her chair and began pacing on the opposite side of her office. This frazzled side to her was almost amusing. Or it would’ve been if the stakes weren’t so high. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know you better than you think.” As much as Anna had tried to keep her walls of defense firmly in place around me, she’d let them down for others, and I’d been there to see behind them.
“I-I don’t fit with you.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You have this beautiful, perfect life. You’re this catch that I swear every woman in Sutter Lake has her eye on. You should marry some Sunday school teacher who bakes muffins, not someone whose only real home has been a shelter.”
A muscle in my cheek ticked. “No one’s life is perfect.”
Anna scoffed. “Sure.”
“I’m only trying to help.”
Her expression completely blanked. “Of course. Sorry. I know you don’t have any actual interest in me. I was just trying to make a point that marrying me, even for show, could ruin your chances with the person you’re truly meant to be with.”
I muttered a curse under my breath. “That’s not how I meant it.”
Anna sighed, scrubbing her hands over her face. The dark circles were stark against her pale skin. It seemed as if she’d lost some of that early summer glow overnight. “It doesn’t matter. There has to be another way.”
I’d been racking my brain, but I couldn’t think of one. “It’s complete crap, but I have pull. No record. Plenty of money. A great job. And enough community service projects to put your so-called-perfect parents to shame. And while things are changing, courts still look favorably on two-parent households.”
She turned away from me, looking out the window to where the kids were running around the playground. Her eyes tracked Justin and Lyla, searching their expressions in a way that told me she already read them better than most in their lives. “We can find something else. Some dirt on them.”
Cain already had his P.I. searching. If there was dirt to find, Dante would get the proof. “We can. Just do me one favor.”
