Boarlander Beast Boar (Boarlander Bears #4)(34)

“Robbie always said—”

“Fuck what your ex said. I’m not him, and I won’t be paying for his mistakes either, just like I won’t make you pay for Esmerelda’s mistakes. This is me and you, and I’m fighting to let my ghost go. You have to let yours go, too.”

Beck dropped her gaze, and a heartbreaking little tear slipped down her cheek. He wiped it off with the pad of his thumb and angled her face up, locked their gazes. “You can trust me, Beck. I’m right here with you, okay?”

God, she was so beautiful, face open and raw, cheeks flushed, looking at him like she was so scared he would let her down. He wouldn’t. Mason was going to do everything in his power to make sure she never felt unworthy again. “Okay?” he whispered again.

She nodded and slid her arms around him, hugged him tight, and buried her face against his neck and, f*ck, he wanted to take her here. He wanted to make her come slow, make her feel how much he loved her because, over the course of the day, she’d forgotten. She didn’t know it, and he wouldn’t bring up any more women with her when she was so hurt over Essie, but he hadn’t been with anyone since those two sows he’d failed to get pregnant. It had been a long damn time since he’d let himself open up to a woman like this. Beck was his, and he was hers in ways he couldn’t explain to her without rubbing salt in her open wounds.

He gripped her hair gently and pulled her close, stared at the neon green Sammy’s sign over her shoulder and sighed. And now with all that hurt churning inside her, she was going to have to face her ex. This sucked. He wished he could take care of this part for her, but co-parenting with Robbie was solely on Beck’s shoulders.

The clock changed to 9:00, so Mason kissed her forehead, let his lips linger there, and then eased back. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

Beck looked uncertain. “I think so. Robbie brought his girlfriend Shelly to me when they got serious since she would be in Ryder’s life. I guess Robbie needs to meet you, too, so he doesn’t feel disrespected. But then, I don’t know where you and I stand—”

“Mark or no, you’re my mate, and I’m yours.”

Her full lips trembled into a smile. “Okay. Maybe give me some distance so I can work my way up to introducing you. Robbie doesn’t do well with surprises. I need to prep him first.”

“Sounds good. Whatever you need.”

Beck moved to escape his lap, but hesitated. “Oh, and your instincts will probably tell you to stab him.” She scrunched up her nose. “Try not to.”

Mason chuckled and squeezed her ass, just because he needed the weight of it in his hand for reassurance before he went in and met her ex. “I have complete control over my temper.”

****

Mason did not have control over his temper. If he gripped his pool stick any harder, he was going to break it into splinters. Beck tried to ignore yet another dirty look he tossed at the back of Robbie’s head as her ex bitched about how she’d been late. If she didn’t hurry Robbie’s visit up, Mason was going walk over to their table and gouge her ex’s eyes out, probably with a smile on his face. At least Robbie hadn’t noticed Mason yet, because if he had, he would be complaining about that and not the time.

“Robbie, I don’t know what to tell you. You said nine o’clock. I literally walked in here on time.”

“On time. On time? Mrs. Perfect always shows up early, so I did that, too,” Robbie slurred. “I’ve been sitting here for an hour already, drinking alone.”

Beck was feeling pretty grateful for the years of dealing with Robbie’s entitled whining because she knew to plaster an empty smile on her face and ask, “So what do you want to talk to me about?” instead of breaking a beer bottle over his head.

“First, I think you should drink.” Robbie gestured to the watered-down cranberry vodka in front of her.

“Why, did you rufie it?”

“No!” Robbie’s pitch-dark eyes sparked with anger, and he ran his hand through his blond highlighted hair. Shelly must like him looking all vogue because Robbie was a pipe layer and had no use for hair appointments before he’d left her. “Look, you’re always so uptight, and we always get into a battle, but I remember you were always a happy drunk.”

“Always a happy drunk? The two times you drank with me, I was a happy drunk.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “You know I was happy because you decided to take time off work and actually take me out, right?”

“God,” Robbie drawled, tossing his head back. “You know what your problem was?”

“I don’t want to know.”

“You were always so f*cking needy.” He pitched his voice high. “Cuddle me. Let’s f*ck while we stare at each other. You don’t hold hands with me enough.”

“Ever, Robbie. You didn’t hold hands with me ever, and I told you I don’t want to hear my shortfalls. We’re divorced, so we really don’t have to rehash this. Just please, tell me what you want.”

Robbie crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair, then looked pointedly at her drink.

She let off a little growl and said, “Fine,” then slurped it through the straw until it was gone.

“You look different,” Robbie said as he lifted his hand at the passing waitress. “She’ll have another,” he told her. “A double.”