Page 36 of What They Say

He paused, looking down at his scarred hands.

“You? You’ve got options I never had. You’ve got music. You’ve got Kath. You’ve got a father who sure as hell wants you around, even when I fuck it up. Prospecting at sixteen would’ve been you trying to prove something to me. I didn’t want that for you. I wanted you to choose it because it was your path, not because you thought it was the only one that would make me proud.”

Chase stared at the ground and cleared his throat. “I thought...I thought you didn’t think I was good enough.”

Mason’s hand landed heavy on the back of Chase’s neck, squeezing once.

“Boy, you’re better than I ever was at your age. That’s what scares me sometimes.” He let go and picked up his beer again. “Now that you’re eighteen, if you still want it, we’ll talk on it again. But Chase, whatever you choose—music, the club, both, neither—I’ll have your back. Always.”

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt different. Lighter.

Chase took a breath. “Thanks...Dad.”

Mason’s shoulders relaxed. Just a fraction. But Chase saw it.

“Yeah,” Mason said gruffly. He turned the beer up and drained the bottle. “Anytime.”

***

Willa

Willa was waiting when she heard the deep rumble of Mason’s bike turn onto their street. She listened closely—no other engines followed. Just him. Perfect.

She checked the nursery security feed, glad to find Garrett still sleeping peacefully, recharging his batteries for more two-year-old fun later in the day. A wicked little grin spread across her face. Quick as a flash, she twisted her bra backwards, unhooked it, and tossed it dramatically down the hallway towards the bedrooms. Then she lifted the front of her shirt and blew a cool stream of air across her nipples, watching with satisfaction as they tightened instantly.

“Yeah, girls,” she murmured, “get ready to show our man a good time. He’s had a long day of being all intense and paternal.”

The garage door rattled down. Willa struck what she hoped was a seductive, artistic pose in the kitchen doorway—one arm draped gracefully overhead, the other hand already tugging at the grippy socks she’d been wearing around the house because her feet got cold.

When Mason walked through the door, he stopped short and stared at her. Willa knew what he was seeing in that moment. It was his pregnant, slightly sweaty wife hopping on one foot, shirt half-lifted, swearing under her breath as the sock refused to cooperate.

“Willa, babe. What’s going on?” He crossed the room in two strides, steadying her with one big hand on her hip while the other took over sock removal.

Willa burst out laughing, the pose collapsing completely. “I was going for a sexy surprise! Clearly the universe had other plans.” She pointed towards the hallway. “Toss them over there by my bra. I had a whole plan. Nipples were primed and everything.”

Mason’s low chuckle rumbled out as he tossed the socks. “Nipples were primed?”

“Extremely.” She tried to strike the pose again but was laughing too hard to stay upright. “Oh shit—pregnancy bladder. When I come back, remind me to show you my nipples. They’re very impressive right now.”

She bolted for the bathroom, Mason’s deep laughter following her down the hall. A minute later, she returned, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with that slightly deranged humor she knew he loved so much.

Mason was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching her with open affection. “You’re a menace, woman.”

“A pregnant menace,” she corrected, stepping into his space and sliding her arms around his waist. “I heard Chase stayed late talking to you. How’s our boy?”

Mason’s hand settled on the swell of her belly, thumb brushing gently. “He’s figuring shit out. Girl’s got him twisted up in the best way. Reminds me of another stubborn soul who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Willa grinned up at him. “Good. He deserves someone who sees him, not just the president’s kid. And I’m glad he’s around more. This house felt too quiet before he moved down here.” Her expression softened. “You’re a good dad, Mason. Even when you’re being all growly and protective.”

He leaned down and kissed her—slow, deep, and full of the kind of love that had only grown stronger with time. When they broke apart, Willa rested her forehead against his chest.

“Come on, old man,” she murmured, taking his hand. “Bedroom. I still owe you a nipple viewing, and I’ve got plans that involve you, me, and significantly less clothing.”

Mason’s fingers twined with hers as they started down the hall. Willa grinned, gripping her discarded bra and the pair of grippy socks between her toes like a ridiculous victory flag, swinging them with every step.

Mason glanced down and shook his head, laughter rumbling through him again. “God, I love you.”

“Yeah,” Willa said, squeezing his hand tighter. “I know.”