18. Poppy
Chapter 18
Poppy
T hat night, I started going through my sketchbook. Mason had set it on a dishrack with a fan pointed toward it all day, and it seemed mostly dry now. Still, I didn’t have much hope when he gave it to me earlier.
Sitting on the living room couch, I took a deep breath and opened it slowly.
To my surprise, the first sketch was mostly intact. The edges of the paper were discolored and wavy from getting wet, but the leather cover of the sketchbook seemed to have done a good job of protecting the papers for the most part.
I was lucky and so thankful Mason rushed out in to the rain to get it for me before it got completely saturated. I flipped through page after page, my eyes tearing up as I realized they were all still there. I was sure I’d lost them all, and it meant the world to me I still had my designs.
I couldn’t believe Joey did that. How in the hell was I in a relationship with such a jerk for so long? He knew how important these designs were to me. Even if he didn’t think I’d ever pull off designing my own line, he knew how much this mattered to me, and he tried to destroy it.
I hoped I never saw his cheating ass ever again.
“So, how bad is it?” Mason asked, walking in from the kitchen with a steaming mug in his hand.
I smiled at him, blinking the tears of happiness from my eyes. “It’s salvageable. It’s all here. I can’t believe it.”
Mason moved to sit next to me, placing the mug in front of me on the coffee table. I looked down and saw marshmallows.
“Hot chocolate?”
He nodded. “I know you have a sweet tooth. Thought you might like some.”
I picked it up and brought it to my lips, pausing to raise an eyebrow at him. “This isn’t going to knock me out, will it?”
Mason chuckled. “Not unless you want me to add a couple of drops of this.” He pulled a small vial of liquid from his pocket. “It’s a sedative I brought along for the kink camp.”
“Do a lot of people like to be knocked out? Is that a kink?”
“Not exactly. But fucking someone while they’re asleep is a kink some of us have.”
“I’m guessing you like that?”
He grinned. “I like a lot of things.”
I was about to ask him what other things he liked when the sound of an owl hooting distracted me. I glanced outside, even though it was dark out now, and there wasn’t much to be seen.
For the first time days, the rain had finally let up, and Dad had gone around opening all of the windows. We had a nice cool breeze going through the cabin now, and it had cooled things down considerably.
“Can I see your designs?” Mason asked, and I nodded, flipping back to the front of the sketchbook and showing him. Just like my dad, Mason showed a genuine interest in my designs. He asked questions and made comments on each one. No rushing me. No criticizing my “silly dream,” as Joey called it.
“I had no idea you were so talented,” he said after I showed him my last design. “I’m so proud of you.”
His words meant a lot, but they also made me think about our lives outside of here. Mason was my stepfather, and as much as I’d tried not to let myself think too much about that, I knew we were in a little bubble here, away from the rest of the world.
“What happens after this?” I asked, sipping my hot chocolate. “Won’t things be weird?”
“No,” he said, looking completely at ease as he leaned back on the couch. “We’ll just act like this never happened.”
I couldn’t control my reaction to his words. My face fell as dread settled in the pit of my stomach. So, this was it?
Mason reached out and took my hand. “Hey, this will always be our place. How about we make this a tradition? We could come back every year for a vacation, just the three of us.”
Excitement had me leaning toward him, searching his eyes for sincerity as I squeezed his hand. “Do you mean it?”
His other hand came to my cheek, cupping it as he kissed me. This wasn’t like the other kisses we’d shared. Mason was usually rough and demanding. But this time, he was sweet and sensual with me, making my heart race. When he pulled away, he grinned.
“You taste like chocolate.”
I laughed, slapping his chest playfully.
“And to answer your question, yes. I did mean it.”
I twisted my hands together in my lap. “Do you think Dad will come back too?”
“Yes.”
“You sound so sure.”
“I am. The two of us are friends again, so I’ll make sure it happens.”
I was surprised to hear that. The two them hadn’t really been fighting lately, but I assumed they were being civil for my benefit. “You’re friends again?”
“Yep, and it’s because of you. Our mutual desire for you is the glue that’s bonded us, I guess. You’re a good influence.”
My heart felt light at the thought. I couldn’t believe I had that kind of power over these strong men. They were always in charge when we were together sexually, easily ordering me around because my brain turned to mush when they touched me. Hell, even when they just looked at me.
Not that I minded. Surrendering control to them made me feel strangely powerful.
“You know, you’ve influenced me too. Both of you,” I said. “I’m going to add lingerie designs to my future fashion line.”
Mason’s eyes flashed with a familiar heat. “Lingerie you might want to show us this time next year?”
I laughed. “It’s a date.”