Chapter 20
Blair
The cool bathroom tile is refreshing on the soles of my feet. “Thanks for understanding.”
They’re both waiting outside the door, their perfectly sculpted bodies on display. Alexei’s cock stands straight out. He told me this wasn’t about him. Clark’s is like a divining rod too. Even after what we’ve just done.
If I’d let them, they would have come in with me and washed me.
Aftercare—I suppose that’s what it’s called.
All I’ve ever gotten before on a few occasions was the ex willingly sleeping on the wet spot.
And I think that happened maybe three times in our entire marriage.
So, no, I suppose I don’t know what aftercare is.
The two of them stand at the door looking like opposite bookends.
Alexei’s hair is dark blond, and he has blue eyes.
Clark has light brown hair with brown eyes, but it’s more how they come across.
Or maybe I’m being influenced by the shirts they had on?
I don’t know. But they do good cop, bad cop really well.
“I’ll be okay.” I shut the door slowly on them. I’m wondering whether I’m going to be able to walk tomorrow.
The shower’s different here than the one back at Glyden, but I should be able to make it work, right? How different can a shower be? I step into the glass and steel area next to the toilet.
“Runche tio?” a voice echoes in Dorian.
“Sorry, I don’t speak Dorian,” I say to the ceiling.
“You okay in there, Blair?” Clark asks through the door.
There’s a two-tone noise that drops, and then the voice asks, “What temperature?”
“Right. Seventy.” I smile. I’ve got this. The two-tone drops again but nothing happens. “I’m good,” I project through the door. Wait. “Seventy, Fahrenheit.”
Another tone, but this time water pours from the ceiling. It’s cold. Why did I pick a temperature? “Warmer, please.” I peel the bandage off my hand. My knuckles are tender, but they’re going to be fine.
The tone’s back, and when I put my hand in the water this time, it’s actually warm.
I step into the water, but now I’m all straightened out and thoughts come barreling at me.
And I’m trying to hit them away like I’m swinging at balls at the annual town picnic softball game.
Or rather, I’m swinging and the thoughts are falling to the ground around me.
Which is how I play softball. What will Marlee think?
What will Annabelle think? Will her pod be angry with me?
What about the rest of the Mason pod? Did they know this was going to happen?
Was this a setup? Clark invited me to his nephew and niece’s school performance tomorrow. What do I wear? Do I even go?
I’ve been scrubbing the same part of my arm for the last two minutes when I finally connect with a thought, and it’s a doozie.
It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.
I’m an adult. My daughter is safe. Annabelle is safe.
My brother has help on the farm. I can do what I want.
I lean back and let the water sluice over my hair and shoulders.
But is this what I want? How do I know they are who I want? I’m jumping in again. Too fast. Last time around, I let becoming pregnant with Marlee take my whole family and the farm down the wrong path.
I glance at the door. Slowing things down now is going to be hard.
Hard like—I clench my eyes closed. Not just because I’m washing my hair but because I can still feel them pressing on my skin.
I can still smell them even after washing.
Alexei’s citrus and Clark’s fresh-cut grass scents are stuck on me.
I’ve walked into the thorn thicket with this one. That’s for sure.
I step out of the shower, and it turns off. Opening a few cabinets, I find towels. Staying in the bathroom for the rest of my life isn’t an option. I have to go back out there.
The door slides out of the way. The room is mercifully empty. There’s a clean tunic on the bed, and my leggings are folded next to them. There’s also another cup of tea and what appears to be a roast beef sandwich next to it. But nothing here has been what it appears when it comes to food.
I pull on my leggings. My tunic’s missing.
Worry pings at me. I hope they haven’t put out one of their mate’s tunics.
Lifting it up, I laugh. You could fit two of me in here.
And it’s long enough to be a cocktail dress.
I pull it on. Who cares how big it is when it’s so soft?
I push my nose into it and sniff. I’m not sure what I’m thinking.
That I’ll be able to identify whose tunic it is?
That’s crazy. It doesn’t smell of fresh-cut grass or citrus, so it’s not Alexei’s or Clark’s.
A tentative bite of the sandwich proves that it’s not roast beef, and maybe not even bread. It is, however, tasty. And with the delicious tea finished, I’m ready to face the guys.
I slip out of the bedroom and work my way back in the direction I think we came in. “Hello?” I do need to get going.
“Let us see her.” It’s Nico, Annabelle’s most . . . loudest mate.
“I’m here.” I pick up my steps.
In the large living room, Nico and Annabelle are facing Delmar and Alexei.
There’s no sign of Sterling. And I’ve got to say I’m a bit relieved about that, after the glare of disappointment he gave me when I was in bed with Alexei and Clark—I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to see him again.
That’s another point to consider: they’re a package deal.
If one of them doesn’t want me, then we can’t mate.
At least, that’s what the study pods on the sub made me believe.
“Aunt Blair. We heard what happened in the elevator. I . . .” Annabelle has both of her hands wrapped around Nico’s hand. I can tell she wants to hug me. Her eyes flick to her mate and then to me. She’s not letting go, and I don’t want her to. She’s keeping Nico calm.
“I freaked out, but I’m fine.” No point in lying.
Annabelle knows how much I hate heights.
She might not know why I don’t like heights, but there’s not a person in my town who doesn’t know of my fear.
The ex forced me onto the county fair Ferris wheel.
“I’m good. The Mason males handled it perfectly. ”
“We’re leaving. Castor,” Nico calls down the hallway I came from.
Annabelle’s light-brown-haired mate comes down the hallway with Clark and Forrest. “Cool it, Poseidon,” Castor says. “Aunt Blair, you’re looking—”
“—like she needs to leave,” Nico interrupts Castor.
This is turning into a walk of shame. Because there’s no doubt in my mind that at least Castor and Nico know what happened.
“I think Blair can tell us what she needs. The Mason pod are friends of ours,” Castor adds.
Annabelle told me all about how Forrest and Eros’s brother Michio helped solve the mystery of the Braesen and how Eros and Nico helped rescue them when they would have been major suspects in the Maelstrom’s destruction.
“It’s fine, Castor. I’m ready to go home.”
What’s protocol when leaving your lovers’ apartment with your niece and her mates?
Screw it. I lean into Clark’s cheek and kiss him goodbye.
I do the same for the other three Masons and then pivot in what I hope is the direction of the functioning elevator.
Luckily, it is, and I give a wave to the four of them as the door closes.
Castor’s smiling at me. He’s holding a brown paper package. Nico’s grimacing.
“Are you feeling all right?” I ask Nico. I know he’s feeling just fine. It’s just he’s not in control, and I’m not going to let my nephew control who I date. I turn to Annabelle. “Do they have prunes here?”
She smirks. “I’m glad you’re okay, Auntie. Nico is too. Aren’t you?”
“Indeed,” Nico says.
“I have your clothes, Blair. And some tea that Clark said you really liked. They’re going to send more over.”
I jump and give a clap. And my core reminds me that sex is . . . a workout. At least, sex with the Mason pod is. Pod . . . it wasn’t the whole pod. It wasn’t even a third of them. My throat tightens, but there are butterflies in my stomach too. That’s a good sign. Right?
When we get home, Marlee’s sitting on the sofa, a new notebook on her lap. She jumps to her feet when she sees me. And starts laughing. “Look at you?” She gives me a tight hug. “Well done, Mom.”
“What?”
She cocks her head at me. “Do you remember the day? The day I came home from a date with . . . Austin?” She moves over to the sofa again, pulling her notebook into her lap.
My stomach flips at the name. Austin was a senior when Marlee was a freshman.
He came across way too much like my ex. The last thing I wanted was for her to end up like me.
I did everything in my power to keep the two of them apart.
But in the end, I tried too hard. I knew the day she lost her virginity.
It was all over her face. She said she didn’t want to go on birth control.
Still, I talked to her about every method I knew.
Most of them I had tried myself. I love Marlee, but there was no way I wanted to have another child with my ex.
That crisp fall day, she’d come home from her movie date.
I didn’t have to ask what had happened. Luckily, Austin wasn’t a jerk.
They dated until Marlee broke it off with him.
She never told me why, but she was adamant it was nothing Austin did.
That they weren’t a match, so best to end things before they got too serious.
“Yes, I remember the day,” I say.
“Cool. Well, will my new stepdads be willing to wear name tags for me?” She laughs.
“I’m sure the Mason pod males would be willing to change their names if your mother was willing to mate them.” Eros strolls out of the back room.
“You’re not wrong,” Castor says. He’s in the chair by the window. He tugs Annabelle into his lap.
“Well, you could use that tunic for a tent if you ever get lost in the woods,” says Marlee. “Although, there are no woods here. No need to worry about that.”
“It is rather large.” I pull it to my sides to keep it from billowing as I sit.
“How is your hand, Aunt Blair?” Annabelle asks.
She’s always been the worrier. Even though everything turned out for the best, I’m going to have residual guilt about leaving her behind on the farm for the rest of my life.
I know it was what she wanted. And look at us .
. . who could ever have imagined this life?
I wiggle my fingers. “It’s fine. Grayson treated it. They’re a little stiff.”
“That’s what she said.” Marlee laughs hard enough that she falls off the sofa. And I realize it’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh like that in ages.
“I’m going to change.” I pick up the tunic like it’s a ballgown I might trip on, and Marlee’s laugh echoes through the room.