45. Mason
45
MASON
S he threw me a party.
She threw me a birthday party.
Bodhi’s gaze had locked on mine, holding it for just a second with more emotion poured into that one single look than I was able to handle.
It was all too much.
He knew what this meant.
And he was here.
He’d helped her.
I want to laugh that they had a contingency plan. That they were going to send everyone away if I didn’t want them. And I believe they would. If I had come here and had a different reaction, they would have had everyone leave. But I got what she was saying. And if I was going to be here, they’d want to celebrate me.
I want to laugh, because there’s probably been no one in my life who ever wanted to celebrate me. I don’t want to celebrate me half the time.
But I’m here. And I made it.
Some way, somehow, I survived.
I glance around at the balloons and centerpieces and matching plates with paper napkins—all the things I’d never had. I always thought it was ridiculous seeing all that in the store. Ridiculous for me. But I’d buy out everything for Holland or Beck.
For Lana.
Even Bodhi if he’d let me.
And maybe that had been our problem.
Maybe that had been my problem.
I hadn’t wanted one, so he hadn’t either, but he deserves one, probably more than I do.
“I think we’re going to have to throw Bodhi one of these,” I say, looking around, my lip twitching, and she nods.
“Already on it.”
My eyes snap to hers. “What?”
She shrugs her shoulder. “Yeah, I figured that if this was something for you, it’s going to have to be something for him too. Besides, all we have to do is make Holland give him the puppy dog eyes and he’ll agree to damn near anything.”
I smile because she’s not wrong.
My brother had taken a liking to Holland. It wasn’t a surprise. And it broke my heart a little bit to see it. But it was also healing too.
For both him and me.
Audrey might have been gone but she wasn’t forgotten. She never would be. Sorren and Hank made it clear they’d help ensure she got the justice she deserved when they’d taken him from the worksite that day. They’d taken him to Vetted Paws to work out a plan and hadn’t let him leave until he agreed to let Montana and Archer take him home.
I’d never been so thankful for people that cared and for help.
“Do I have time to take you upstairs to show my appreciation?” I ask, changing the subject for both our sakes.
“Happy birthday, buddy!” Montana yells as he rounds the side of the house, his hands outstretched and a shit-eating grin on his face.
Guess that’s a no then.
“It’s party time, handsome. But later,” she purrs, “I’m all yours.”
I want to protest but then Grandad and Celeste arrive, followed by Jensen and Nessa, who flew back with Remi just for the weekend.
My heart squeezes in my chest as I reach for the baby, elbowing Jensen out of the way as I turned my back to him.
Everyone laughs and it feels so damn good to be together.
And not just my friends from Blackstone Falls either. It’s everyone from Clementine Creek—the Thayers and so many more.
Hell, even Miss Thelma came to say hello.
She kisses my cheek and then pats it. "You’re a good boy," she says. “Got yourself a good one, I see.” I grin because she’s talking about Lana. And I know that I do.
“She’s the best,” I say and she smiles, the both of us looking out over the crowd.
All these people are here to see me.
“And you deserve it.” She doesn’t wait for me to respond, simply floats across the lawn to where Sorren is sitting with his wife and pulls a chair between them.
Because she’s great like that.
I deserve it.
All these people came out here for me.
It’s humbling and I’m so lost in thought I don’t hear Lana approach.
“Birthday song or no birthday song?” she asks softly, her arm wrapping around my back.
I open my mouth and I close it.
It’s a question I’ve never been asked before.
“Oh, I, um, I don’t know,” I say honestly.
There’s a strange sensation building in my chest. An emotion I’m not sure I can handle. And she nods.
And then she starts to sing low and quiet so only I can hear.
She sings the song, giving it to me but not making it a big deal. Not putting me on display.
When she finishes, I thread my fingers through her hair, cupping her face as I slant my mouth over hers, telling her all the things I can’t say.
The things that would break me if I let them escape.
But I need her to know how much I appreciate this.
How much I appreciate her .
“I love you,” I murmur and she smiles against my lips.
“I love you. And now, it’s time for cake.”
“Is this one of those I can have my dessert and eat it too?”
“I already told you that you can have your dessert later,” she whispers, and I grin because I have no doubt that I’ll enjoy that just as much as whatever sugary confection awaits.