As I opened the door, the smell of garlic and butter met my nose. Walking into the kitchen, I could see spaghetti simmering in a pot of boiling water on the stove. Toasted French bread rubbed with garlic and butter sat beside it.
But Reese wasn’t there.
I headed for the bedroom, and just as I reached the door, I heard her voice. I stopped and realized she was reading. Alone. Without me.
She had worked her first day at a new job, and I’d left her here. Instead of pouting like most women would, she had cooked dinner and was now going on with her night. My gut knotted up. I felt like an ass. I should have been here with her. I should have cooked for her. And I should be there holding her while she read. That was our thing.
Opening the door, I stepped into the room, my eyes instantly finding her. She was curled up in our bed, with her hair in low pigtails and dressed in a tank top and pajama pants. She stopped reading and looked up at me.
Then she smiled.
That smile was all that I needed in life. That and having her right there in my bed. Nothing was as perfect as this.
“I’m sorry,” I said, needing to say it. My guilt and regret over leaving her was eating at me.
She shrugged. “It’s OK. She needed you.”
But so did Reese. I never wanted to choose someone else’s needs over Reese’s. “I should have been here with you. I should have cooked you dinner and listened to you talk about your day. And I should be in that bed listening to you read to me.”
Reese put her book down in her lap. “I would have liked that.”
Those honest words sliced through me. That ride with Aida did nothing but let me say how I felt. I’d wasted my time. And I’d let Reese down.
“I have to get up early. I’d like to stay up with you while you eat and shower, but Piper needs me at the office at eight tomorrow morning. She signed on for some earlier lessons, so I need some sleep.”
Although she said everything with a smile, there was a sadness in her eyes that made me feel helpless. Then she lay down and rolled over, ending our conversation.
I had screwed up.
Reese
When my alarm went off at six thirty, I rolled over and stretched. Last night’s events, and the sadness I’d gone to bed with, came back to me. Mase had gone to Aida and stayed gone for hours. I had waited to eat with him for more than an hour, until I was too hungry to wait. Once I’d eaten and cleaned up, I took a shower, and he still wasn’t home.
By the time I’d gotten my book and started reading, I realized this was a pattern. When Aida needed him, he went to her. It concerned me. She wasn’t his blood relative, but he had never told me that. Someone else had.
I shook my head, threw back the covers, and got out of bed. I had to focus on work today. Not Mase. Not Aida. That was a situation I needed to find my way through. I hoped going to sleep on him when he got home last night sent the right message. He had upset me. I wanted him to know that. I didn’t want to take a backseat to his cousin forever.
He was my first concern. Shouldn’t I be his?
I went to brush my teeth and get dressed. Today was about proving my worth at my job, not sulking because Mase had let me down last night.
When I stepped out of the bedroom, my eyes fell on Mase standing at the stove. His back was to me, but he was definitely cooking. I walked toward the kitchen through the living room, hoping to see what he was doing.
Mase turned just as I got into the kitchen and gave me that smile that made my heart flutter. “Morning, beautiful. Breakfast is almost done.”
Breakfast? We normally ate cereal or something his mom, Maryann, brought us. And wasn’t Mase supposed to be down at the stables working?
“Have a seat, and I’ll get your orange juice,” he said, wiping his hands on the dishtowel stuck in the front of his jeans.
I didn’t move. I was still trying to figure out what was going on.
He paused when he saw me still standing there. “You good?” he asked, looking concerned.
I managed a nod and moved to the table while he poured me a glass of orange juice.
“Coffee is brewing. I’ll get you some in a few.”
“What are you doing?” I blurted out.
He slid what looked like an omelet from a pan to a plate, then turned to me and held it up. “Fixing you breakfast. I didn’t get to make you dinner after your first day of work. So I thought I’d fix you breakfast before your second day. Not the same, but I didn’t sleep much last night. I watched you sleep and beat myself up over letting you down.” He walked over to me with a serious expression on his face. When he set the plate down in front of me, he bent over and looked into my eyes. “I never want to be the one to let you down, and I did that last night. I won’t do it again. You’re the most important part of my life.”
My heart went into a silly beat of giddiness. I had been upset with him, but this made all that melt away. This was Mase. The man I trusted and loved. I returned his smile. “Thank you,” I whispered.
He leaned in and kissed me sweetly. “Don’t thank me. I don’t deserve it,” he said against my mouth. “Be mad at me. Throw things at me. Hell, baby, slap me. But don’t thank me. That kills me.”
I reached up and cupped his face. I adored that face. “How about I love you, then?” I said with a smile.
He closed his eyes and leaned into my hand. “That always sounds good.”
I moved my hand and looked down at the plate in front of me. The omelet he’d made looked delicious and full of cheese, but it was also big enough for three people. “Go get another plate and eat with me. This is massive.”