Page 19 of Hidden Resolution (Stonebrooke #2)

A fter two rounds of toe-curling, stress-busting sex and a quick shower, Mason offered to take her out for a late dinner.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather order a pizza and stay in,” she said. Her energy was depleted from a long day of work and their bedroom calisthenics. “Unless you had your heart set on going out.”

“Nope, pizza works for me. But I’m definitely taking you out soon. I’m going to insist on that dress, minus the underwear.”

“I’ve never gone commando,” she admitted, lifting the wineglass he’d poured for her.

The action of his reaching for his phone was arrested mid-stretch. He glanced back over his shoulder, expression caught somewhere between disbelief and delight.

“Never?”

She shook her head and bit her lip. “Never.”

“Dear lord! First you didn’t know what the Mile-High Club was, and now this? Your sex education is lacking in all the best ways, love. We’re going to rectify that. Soon.”

“If you haven’t rectified it by now…” She shrugged, guzzling her wine and stretching to refill it.

He grinned, climbing from their nest to cross to her bookshelf. When he settled back in, he had their old school yearbook. Flipping through, he paused now and again to study a photo.

“What are you doing? Seeking to relive your glory days?” she asked curiously.

“Pfft. Not hardly.”

“Really?” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’d lay odds there’s a Sharp on every other page, with you beating out your brothers in a two-to-one landslide.”

“Funny,” he replied dryly.

Pinching his side, she added, “I’ll go further and say you don’t let anyone come to your place because you don’t want them to know you have your high school and college jerseys in shadow boxes hanging around the bedroom.”

He snorted. “You have me all figured out, don’t you?”

“Yep.” She laughed, snuggling down into the covers with a jaw-cracking yawn. “Seriously, what are you searching for?”

“The last time I was here, I noticed this on the shelf. I thought I’d see what younger Shonda looked like.”

She groaned. “And you had to start with my freshman year? You couldn’t pick my senior year, when I’d lost the braces and developed breasts?”

He stared at her as if the concept of her being ugly was foreign to him. “You’re lying.”

With a resigned sigh, she leaned in and flipped a few pages, then tapped her picture.

Though his face was expressionless, he missed nothing as he studied the photograph.

Admittedly, not one of her finer days.

“Yeah, who wants a flat-chested teenager when they could feel up your glorious tits in person?” he said as he tossed the book and dove for her.

They wrestled for control of the covers, and when he pulled her on top of him, their laughing gazes locked.

God, she loved him. The feeling was bittersweet, all things considered.

Suddenly, kidding didn’t feel appropriate anymore.

They’d been over less than twenty-four hours ago.

But the second he showed up with the Guy’s Guarantee for Valentine’s Day Sex package, her good sense abandoned her and her body assumed command, locking her brain out of its control center. None of their issues were resolved.

“Mason, before you order dinner, can we talk?”

His brow arched with concern. “Why does your tone worry me?”

“Because I’m a fearsome woman warrior?”

“That might be it.” He grinned. “Okay, lay it on me. What’s running through that beautiful head of yours?”

She ran her finger along the edge of the sheet, buying time. If she blurted what she was thinking, it would come out all wrong, probably triggering him into running.

“Come out with it, love. Rip the bandage off. I’m a big boy. I can take it if you don’t want to see me again.”

His dark expression claimed differently, but she wouldn’t go there.

“That’s not it.” Her resolve began to stall out, but she pushed through.

“I do want to see you again. But you have to know I’m falling for you.

Our time together isn’t a fling for me anymore.

” She blew out a shaky breath. “I was willing to play by your rules—at first—but you keep changing them. It’s impossible to interpret your continual return.

And the sweet gestures… from anyone else, it screams caring. ”

He didn’t reply, and the silence was weighted.

Summoning the last of her courage, she charged on. “The flowers, the balloon… please tell me what I’m supposed to take from those?”

“Why does it have to mean anything more than what it is?” His vibe shifted, becoming harder and guarded. “I brought you flowers and chocolates because every woman deserves them. The balloon was a throw-in from the florist.”

Cold permeated her bones. “You didn’t pick the Be My Valentine balloon?”

He thunked his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes.

“No.”

“You really don’t want a future together, do you?” she asked, dreading his response.

The flicker of hesitation in his eyes and the set of his jaw spoke volumes. She steeled herself against the coming truth.

“I told you at the airport. I want you on a level I’ve never wanted another woman. For longer than I’ve ever wanted another woman.” He rolled his head to meet her gaze. “Why can’t that be enough?”

Everything around her blurred, and the ache pressing behind her eyes became so intense it bordered on physical pain.

He’d been honest, and she needed to be, too.

“Because I’m too old for ‘casual fucks,’ Mason,” she said calmly.

Though where she found the Zen was anyone’s guess.

“I want more. I want to build something lasting with someone who loves me. I want a home with the two-point-five kids, maybe a dog, and my two fat, old cats.” Scrunching the covers to her chest, she shifted to kneel in front of him.

“If I wait much longer, my age starts to work against me. I’ll be middle-aged, with no prospects and a uterus that might be entering hostile territory.

Can you understand where I’m coming from? ”

His reply was soft, nearly reverent. “I can.”

“And?”

“I can’t give you what you want.”

Her lungs locked, and she had to force herself to nod.

“Fair enough. Then I’m going to ask you not to come back, okay? I n-need to…” She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried again, steadier this time. “I need to manage the process of getting over you, and your hanging around won’t facilitate a healthy break.”

His lashes brushed against his cheeks as he shut his eyes. Unerringly, he clasped her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, firm and lingering. Exhaling heavily, he nodded.

“Okay,” he agreed.

It was a solid minute before he released her, rose, and dressed, never pausing to check for her devastation or the arduous struggle to hide it.

“Walk me out?” he finally asked.

Plunge a knife in my chest?!

“Sure.”

She slid into a robe and followed him to the foyer.

At the door, he cupped her face, leaning in to press his forehead to hers.

“Don’t ever think you’re not good enough, love. My leaving has nothing to do with you.”

She grimaced, remaining silent.

Mason gave her a little shake. “I mean it. It’s all on me. I’m the one who’s broken. I’m the one who can’t be fixed. You’re perfect.”

Her composure shattered, and the sobs she’d been holding back tore loose. He caught her as she collapsed against him, burying her face in his chest.

“I’m sorry, Shonda,” he whispered raggedly, sounding as distraught as she felt. “I’m so goddamned sorry.”

Shonda couldn’t sleep.

Oddly enough, the final breakup with Mason wasn’t the reason she’d kept tossing and turning. Her decision, as painful as it had been, was the right call. While it hurt to make the course correction, having released her grief, she could strive to forget and move forward.

The act of quitting their toxic back-and-forth gave her clarity.

And in that stillness, her thoughts shifted to Erica.

There had been no call, text, or juicy play-by-play detailing Erica’s night with Zack.

Yeah, she could have written it off—had they gotten intimate, ghosting a bestie would be natural—but the silence felt wrong.

Off in a way she couldn’t explain, and unease slithered through Shonda, creating a persistent chill she couldn’t shake.

The urgency to speak with Erica was suffocating her.

She tossed beneath the covers, willing herself to sleep, but the longer she waited, the more the tension grew, coiling tight inside her stomach. Eventually, she sat up, flung back the sheet, and reached for her phone. Her thumbs barely typed out “How did” when the device rang in her hands.

The number wasn’t one she recognized, but her compulsion to answer was strong.

“Hello?”

“Shonda? Hey, it’s Zack.” His voice was sharp-edged, bordering on frantic.

Instantly alert, she pressed a palm over her racing heart. “What’s wrong?”

“Erica and I had a fight. A knockdown, drag-out. She…” His gulp was loud and unfiltered.

“Look, Shonda, I’m not asking you to betray any confidences or anything, but have you heard from her?

She left the hotel, and I can’t find her.

I’ve driven around town, trying to think of all the places she might’ve gone.

I’ve even checked the hospitals.” His hysteria was escalating. “If she isn’t with you…”

The following silence was telling. Erica was in danger.

Knowing a psychopath was on the loose, she wouldn’t have vanished without checking in. Under standard girlfriend circumstances, she would’ve shown up on Shonda’s doorstep with her mascara streaked, muttering about men, demanding wine, and ready for revenge plotting.

“I’m on my way. Are you at home?” she asked, as she dragged on her jeans.

He was, and ten minutes later, she arrived at a scene straight out of a police procedural. The house was swarming with uniforms, Zack’s brothers flanked him in a defensive line, and the tension was thick enough to choke her.

She walked in on him mid-meltdown.

“Why are any of you still here?” Zack shouted, hands flailing. “Go out and do your fucking jobs!”

Although Shonda wasn’t surprised by his rage, Bucky Whitmore was, and he blinked at the vitriol directed at him. As a department supervisor, he usually played things by the book. But clearly, even good-natured Bucky had reached his limit. He shoved Zack hard enough to make him stumble.

“Zack, you need to calm the fuck down.”

The harshness of the move and the steel tone prompted Zack to comply.

“I’m sorry,” he replied after a long minute. He made a point to shake each officer’s hand. “I really do appreciate what you are doing. I’m…” Raw desperation flickered behind his attempted composure as he shook his head.

If Erica hadn’t been missing, Shonda might’ve found the whole incident tragically romantic. The man was beside himself, unhinged with worry, and still trying to keep it together for the people around him.

“We’ll find her,” Bucky promised, clapping his shoulder.

Zack nodded, throat working as he tried to hold back the panic. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Recognizing the signs of unraveling, Shonda followed him. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was about to become completely unglued.

“Breathe,” she urged, sitting beside him and rubbing his upper back.

“I-I…c-can’t…”

“You can, or you wouldn’t be speaking right now.”

With a jerky nod, he worked to regulate his breathing. Mindlessly looking for an anchor, he grounded himself by gripping her thigh.

Mason chose that precise moment to enter, and his gaze immediately zeroed in on Zack’s hand. The black expression on his face could’ve curdled blood.

“The only reason I’m not ripping it off is because you’re hurting,” Mason said, deceptively calm. “After this, all bets are off.”

Oddly, his possessiveness had a calming effect on Zack. In what had to be an instinctive move meant to irritate, he slid his hand slightly higher. Not quite offensive, but it drew a warning growl from Mason.

“Just making sure that’s the way the wind blew,” Zack said.

“Dickhead.”

“Asshat.”

The exchange might’ve passed for banter if their eyes hadn’t been lit with equal parts grief and rage. When Zack stood to pace, Mason sat down beside her.

A small, quivering voice pierced the room. “Dad?”

They all shifted to find Jacob in the hallway, pale and wide-eyed.

Zack was at his side in seconds. “Hey, lil man.”

“Is it true? Is Erica missing? Was it my mom who hurt her?”

Zack hugged his son fiercely, gaze landing on Dane, who stepped into view behind Jacob with an unreadable expression. He shook his head.

“Who told you that?” Zack asked.

“I heard Grandpa yelling at Grandma,” Jacob said. “He said it was all Grandma’s fault. That she cud-cod…”

“Coddled?” Zack supplied.

“Yeah, coddled her too much. That maybe if she hadn’t hidden the fact that Mom hadn’t died in the fire, this would never have happened.”

Shonda managed to suppress a gasp, and beside her, Mason’s face turned to stone.

Judith had known the entire time!

“Jacob,” Zack said, “I need you to stay here with Shonda while I go talk to your grandparents. Can you do that for me?”

The boy gave a quiet nod.

“I’ve got him,” Shonda said, wrapping an arm around his thin shoulders. “Come on, buddy.”

Mason followed Zack out, and Shonda did her best to distract Jacob, but the raised voices from the other room made that impossible.

“Is my mom going to kill Erica?” he asked, eyes brimming.

She wished she could lie and tell him there was no chance, but the truth hung heavily between them.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to answer,” he whispered. Clever kid he was, he’d already guessed the truth.

Her heart broke for him.

After an epic shouting match, the police cuffed Judith and walked her out. Charlie retreated to his home to wait, and Dane assumed the task of comforting Jacob.

“Come on, Fry Guy,” Dane said, scooping him up and slinging him over one shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Hours crawled by with no updates or new leads. Fatigue crept thicker than fog, settling behind Shonda’s eyes and dulling her mind.

“Come here, love,” Mason said, offering his arms as a lifeline.

For the count of five heartbeats, she hesitated, wishing she had more fortitude to stay detached.

But she was stretched thin, and she craved the comfort of the man she loved, regardless of whether he returned her affection or not.

Shonda curled into Mason’s side, appreciating the feel of his embrace.

He cradled her head against his chest and stroked her hair with slow, soothing motions. The strong, rhythmic beat of his heart beneath her cheek became her lullaby. Eventually, sleep claimed her.