Page 11

Cora

After leaving Beckett’s foster home, if you could even call that hellhole a home, Mason insisted we swing by my apartment so I could grab some clothes. I’d tried to put up a fight about packing a bag, arguing that I didn’t need to stay with him, but he’d won that battle. Damn him and his persuasive kisses that made my brain short-circuit.

Now there we were at his actual home, which wasn’t at all what I’d expected. I’d pictured something more bachelor pad-ish, maybe an apartment above a bar or maybe even a small townhouse. Not this beachfront beauty that looked like something out of Coastal Living magazine. I mean, seriously. The place was that nice.

My thoughts of how amazing his place was were interrupted when the man himself yanked open my door and reached around me to grab my overnight bag. His broad chest brushed against my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine as he plucked my keys from the ignition and pocketed them with a smirk.

“In case you try to run,” he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. “As if you could keep me anywhere I didn’t want to be.”

“Is that a challenge, baby?” His eyes darkened with promise.

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I climbed out, brushing past him. “Nope.” I loved a challenge, especially one that was guaranteed to end with us both naked and gasping for breath, but it wasn’t the time for that. Beckett needed to be looked after. “Come on, Beck. Let’s check out the digs.”

We climbed the tall staircase that led to the main level, my hand trailing along the weathered railing. The wraparound porch was even more impressive up close, with its bright red Adirondack chairs and flourishing potted plants strategically placed to create a comfy vibe that begged you to sit down with a book and a big glass of sweet tea. And the view of the Atlantic... yeah, that was nothing short of breathtaking with its endless blue waters stretching out to the horizon.

“I can’t believe you live here,” I said, hearing the awe in my voice.

“It’s just a house, babe.” Mason said over his shoulder as he unlocked the front door.

Just a house? More like my dream house.

He pushed the door open and motioned for us to go in.

Doing as he said, I followed behind Beckett and froze in my tracks the second I was inside.

Holy shit.

The inside was even more stunning than the outside. It was open concept with high, beamed ceilings and large windows that filled the space, giving lots of natural light. And the decor was a perfect blend of coastal blues and masculine dark warm woods.

The more I saw, the more my stomach started to knot. There was clearly a woman’s touch to the place, the thoughtfully arranged throw pillows, the artfully displayed coffee table books, the family photos in matching driftwood frames.

Had this been his wife’s doing? The thought made something ugly twist in my chest.

“What’s wrong?” Mason asked, his eyes searching my face.

I forced a smile. There was no way I was admitting that I didn’t like being in the home he had shared with Tonya. “Nothing, it’s really nice.”

He studied me for a moment, clearly not buying it. “Thanks. Bought it a few months ago. My sister decorated it.”

A few months ago? His sister? Relief that Tonya had never been in the space washed over me instantly.

God! I was being ridiculous.

The rustle of Beckett’s trash bag drew our attention. The poor kid. The swelling around his eyes was worse and he looked like he was ready to bolt.

“Let me show you where you can put that,” Mason offered, his tone gentle like I’d only ever heard him use with me. “And then I think the three of us need to have a chat, yeah?”

Beckett nodded, his shoulders hunched as he followed Mason down a hallway. I trailed behind them, taking in more details of the house; the subtle scent of pine, the spotless hardwood floors, the way everything seemed perfectly in its place.

Mason pushed open a door at the end of the hallway to reveal a good-sized bedroom with a full bed covered in a navy comforter, a solid dark wood dresser, and a big TV mounted on the wall. It wasn’t overly decorated, but it was warm and welcoming.

“Bathroom’s through there,” Mason pointed to a door on the far wall. “There’s towels and shit in the cabinet; use whatever you need.”

Beckett set his bag on the bed as he looked around the room, seeming very uncomfortable and overwhelmed.

My heart ached for him.

Before I could ask if being there was okay, a sharp knock sounded from the front door.

“Be right back,” Mason said, sliding past me with a brief touch to my lower back.

Once we were alone, I moved to sit beside Beckett on the edge of the bed.

“You okay?” I asked softly.

He nodded, then winced as the movement aggravated his swollen eye. “Yeah. Just... I don’t get it. Why is he doing this?”

I considered the question. It was common knowledge in Jacksonville that the Saints were outlaws. They weren’t known for being Boy Scouts. They also would never hurt a woman or a child. “He’s a good man underneath all that scary biker stuff,” I found myself saying.

Beckett looked doubtful. “Nobody does something for nothing.”

The cynicism in his voice chipped away at a piece of my heart. Beckett was young. He’d been through a lot. I didn’t know what happened to his parents but there were only so many reasons someone ended up in the system and none of them were good.

“Cora? Beck?” Mason called from the living room. “Come out here, please.”

We looked at each other, both of us with big eyes. “I’ve got your back.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, standing up after me.

Grabbing onto his hand, I gave it a squeeze then pulled him behind me back to the living room. Mason was standing there with an older man who looked to be in his early-sixties, with salt-and-pepper hair and kind eyes despite his rugged appearance.

“This is Doc,” Mason introduced. “He’s going to check Beck out, make sure there are no broken bones or anything we need to worry about.”

I looked at Beckett. “Is that okay with you?”

He glanced back at Doc and nodded, though he still looked skittish. “I guess.”

“I’m just gonna take a quick look, son,” Doc assured him. “Nothing invasive, I promise.”

Cautiously, Beckett followed Doc back into the bedroom.

The moment the door closed behind them, I turned to Mason. “What are we going to do?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.

Mason ran a hand through his short hair. “We’re going to ask the kid what he wants.”

I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I have a feeling the kid’s never been given a choice about what happens to him.”

I opened my mouth then snapped it shut. That never even occurred to me.

“So we’re going to give him the choice to decide what he wants. You may not like it, baby, but if he wants to go somewhere else, I’ll make some calls and see what I can do. But, if he wants to stay, we figure that out too.”

I stared at my man, a wave of emotion I’d never felt before washing over me. “Just like that? You’d let him stay here?”

He shrugged his shoulders as if taking in a homeless teenager was no big deal. “Kid needs somewhere safe to crash. I’ve got the room.”

Fueled by the overwhelming need to be close to him, I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to his chest. “You’re a good man, Mason Sosa.”

His arms came around me, one hand sliding up to lift my chin. “Don’t go spreading that around. You’ll ruin my street cred.”

I smiled up at him. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

With a grin on his face, he lowered his head, capturing my lips. My fingers curled into his shirt as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping against mine. I leaned deeper into him, my body instantly responding to his touch.

I was falling hard and so fast.

The sound of a throat clearing had me pulling back. Doc was standing in the doorway with a grin on his face, and Beckett was a step behind him.

“Well,” Doc said, his eyes twinkling, “I see the patient isn’t the only one who needed some attention.”

My cheeks burned as I stepped away from Mason, who looked completely unrepentant.

“How is he?” He jerked his chin at Beck.

Doc glanced back at his patient. “The black eye’s going to be nasty for a week or more and he’s got some bruised ribs, but nothing’s broken. I’ve left some anti-inflammatory meds and an arnica gel for the bruising. Overall, I’m sure it hurts, but he’ll survive.”

“Thanks for coming by, Doc.” Mason reached out and shook his hand.

“Anytime,” Doc said, before turning his warm smile on me. “It was really nice to meet you, young lady. Keep this one in line, will you?”

I laughed softly. “I’ll do my best.”

After Doc left, Mason called Beckett over and had him take a seat on the couch. Once Beck sat, I dropped down beside him.

“How long has this shit been going on?” Mason asked, cutting right to the chase.

Beckett stared at his hands. “Since I got placed with them. About sixteen months.”

“Has it always been this bad?”

“No.” Beckett’s voice was barely audible. “It got worse when his wife left him six months ago. He started drinking more.”

Mason nodded, absorbing the information. “You want to go back there?”

Beckett’s head shot up. “No!”

“Didn’t think so.” Mason crossed his arms. “When do you turn eighteen?”

“In ten months—November 17th.”

Mason tipped his head, a funny look on his face as he mulled over the time until Beckett would legally be an adult. “What do you want in life, kid?”

Beckett’s brows wrinkled in the middle, clearly not understanding what Mason was getting at. “What?”

“What do you want to be? More importantly, who do you want to be?”

I watched as something broke inside this kid I’d come to care about and my heart sank. Beckett’s eyes filled with tears, one slipping down his cheek before he could wipe it away. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I never thought I’d...” He left the rest hanging, but we knew exactly what he meant. He never thought he’d make it out of the foster system alive.

My own eyes welled up with tears, and I reached over and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t have to figure it all out today, Beck,” I said, sniffling as I batted at the moisture on my cheek with the back of my free hand. “The main thing is that you’re safe now.”

Mason looked at me, something warm flickering in his eyes before he returned his focus to Beckett. “You want to stay here?”

Beckett glanced around, clearly overwhelmed by the offer. “I… guess,” he answered skeptically.

“Good,” Mason said with a decisive nod. “Then it’s settled. Now let’s fucking eat. I’m starving.”

And just like that, my man was moving on.

It was crazy how he just rolled with the punches life threw like taking in a teenager and offering him sanctuary without so much as breaking stride.

Beckett looked over at me, his expression clearly asking, “ Did that just happen?”

I shrugged with a smile that said, “ I guess it did.”

And Mason?

He was already heading toward the kitchen, talking about eggs and bacon.

Watching him, I felt another layer of the wall around my heart crumble away.

Whatever his faults, and I knew for a fact there were plenty I hadn’t discovered yet, Mason Sosa had just revealed himself to be someone who wouldn’t hesitate to protect those who needed protecting.

And God help me, I was officially head over heels in love with him.