"I swear to God, Eva. The last thing I want to do is hurt her, but I just can't . . . God." He swiped the heels of his hands over his eyes. "I don't know how to get past this. I don't deserve her forgiveness. I don't . . . how the hell do I touch something so pure and amazing when I'm so fucking filthy?"
I bit my lip when tears began to swim in my eyes. Freaking pregnancy hormones. They just wouldn't leave me alone, would they? But my heart was breaking for poor Mason. The man could not forgive himself for what he'd been.
Picking up a piece of peanut-butter coated apple, I took a bite and began to munch, trying to act as cool and collected as I didn't feel. While Mason tried not to emotionally fall apart in front of me, I licked my fingers clean of my snack and then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Finally, I cleared my throat.
"So, I've been reading all these new mommy, expecting-your-first-baby articles online lately. And they're really cool. They go week by week through your pregnancy, telling you how big your baby is compared to a piece of fruit." Setting my hands over my bump, I grinned. "Baby Girl's about the size of a pineapple right now, by the way."
Mason blinked and stared at me as if I'd lost my mind. But I did have a point, and I was about to get to it.
"The advice that helped me stop freaking out the most was about dealing with all the mistakes I'm going to make as a mother. They say it's inevitable, you know. No matter how great I want to be, I'm going to mess shit up. And I'm going to worry that I'm destroying my child's life. But I read this thing that said as long as I love her and try to make her happy, the rest will fall into place. Discipline, temper tantrums, all of it. Instead of drowning in my mistakes, I'll learn from them. And the more joy I bring to her life, the more I'll bring to my own." Reaching out, I grasped Mason's hand hard.
"Are you listening to me, Mason Lowe? Just love Reese and make her happy. And when you bring joy to her life, it'll bring joy to your life. Instead of wallowing over everything you did wrong, you'll forgive yourself and move on from this, because making her happy is the ultimate priority. Everything else is just bullshit."
He gently squeezed my fingers in return. "I want to do that," he assured me, his voice low and filled with sincerity. "I do. I just want to show her how much I love her and bring a smile to her face, but I . . . " He shook his head helplessly. "Right now, I can't even imagine what I could do to accomplish that."
My lips spread wide as an idea hit me. "I'll tell you what you're going to do. You're going to dig out that engagement ring you have hiding in the bottom of your shirt drawer, and you're going to propose to her. Tonight."
"Wha . . . " Mouth falling open, Mason sputtered a couple seconds before he scowled at me. Stepping closer, he sent a quick glance toward the opening of the kitchen before he whirled back and quietly hissed, "How the hell do you know what's in my shirt drawer?"
I snorted and waved an unconcerned hand. "Oh, please. If you want to hide something from your girlfriend, next time put it in a better place than you did. Reese loves wearing your shirts when you're not here. She found the ring months ago."
"She . . . " He shook his head, denying it, and then tried to speak, but nothing intelligible came out.
"You should've heard her," I went on. "I'd just fallen asleep when this scream ripped through the entire apartment. I thought someone was killing her. By the time I scrambled into her room, she was dancing around and trying to put it on, but her fingers were shaking so badly she kept missing. She was so happy she was crying. I don't know if I've ever seen her that ecstatic before in my life."
Mason caught his breath. His eyes filled with wonder. "She liked it?" He sounded so hopeful and yet uncertain, so I punched him in the arm.
"Liked it? Hell, no, she didn't like it. She freaking loved it. And FYI, Lowe, you have immaculate taste in jewelry. I mean, holy God, who knew you'd pick out such a beautiful ring? I'm seriously impressed."
He grinned so hard his entire face lit up. "Really?"
"Yes. So dig that bad boy out and make it official already, will you? That, I know for certain, will make my Ree Ree happy."
Mason nodded. "Okay." He started to turn away as if to follow my instructions that very moment, but then he paused. "Wait. I can't. I still haven't planned the perfect proposal. I keep thinking I need to take her to a fancy restaurant and somehow have the waiter bring it out with her food, or-"
"Don't you dare be so cliché. This is Reese we're talking about. She'd prefer something simple, yet private, just between the two you. Maybe a picnic-oh, hey. She loves that park across the street as much as I do. There's this big-ass tree by the lake. You could spread a blanket out under it, feed a couple of the ducks, eat a romantic little snack, and then, you know . . . do your thing."
Biting his lip, he seemed to consider my suggestion. "I don't know how to ask, though."
"Oh, whatever." I shoved his arm right where I'd just punched it. "Every time I've ever heard you tell her you loved her, you've always spit out some big, flowery speech that would put a romance novel hero to shame. Just start talking, and the words will come. I promise you."
"But I want it to be perfect."
I sighed. "Reese doesn't want perfect. The poor, confused girl wants you. So . . . give her you."
He mentally debated a moment longer. The guy looked positively thrilled by the idea, yet utterly frightened by it. It made my own stomach flutter with anticipation. I was about to shove him again and demand, "Just do it already," when he nodded.
"Okay. I'm going to do it."
I almost peed I was so excited. But the anxiety in his gray eyes made me wary. "Tonight," I ordered.
"Yeah," he said. "Tonight."
I about hugged him, but that would've been way awkward because the last time I'd tried to touch him, I'd reached for his junk to show Reese he was a cheating bastard just like every other dick out there. But he hadn't been a cheating bastard; he'd knocked my hand away, and Reese had turned on me as if I was the backstabbing whore of the century. Not wanting to relive any of those memories, I cleared my throat and ran my fingers through my hair, glad when Reese entered the kitchen.
"So what're we doing for supper?" she asked, completely clueless as to what Mason and I had just discussed.
Mason jumped because his back was to the doorway and he hadn't seen her enter. When he whirled toward her looking as guilty as spit, I snorted. Time for me to set the wheels in motion before he blew it.
"You two are driving me crazy," I said, taking control. "Both of you have been moping around the house all week, and it's enough already. I'm officially kicking you out for the evening. I'd leave myself, but . . . I hate walking too far in this condition, ergo, you guys have to go. I'll pack you a picnic supper, but you better not come back until you're both freaking approachable again. Got it?"
Reese lifted her eyebrows and sent me a withering stare. "Wow. I'm so sorry our drama is messing with your life, E. Let me just get right on-"
"Sweet Pea." Mason stepped toward her and swept an arm around her waist, making her look up at him in surprise.
As her startled blue eyes grew wider, he forced a tense smile. "Let's just . . . let's listen to her and go out for a couple hours, anyway. Just the two of us."
She started nodding immediately, but it took her a few seconds for her to say, "O . . . Okay. Yeah, that sounds good."
"Great." His smile was slow and devastating enough to make Reese visibly melt. I swear the girl almost let out a dreamy smile.
Then he kissed her forehead and released her. "I'm going to grab my . . . my hat from the bedroom. Be right back."
As soon as he was gone, a grinning Reese whirled to me. "Did you just see that?" she demanded and began bouncing on her toes. "He touched me. Ohmigod, Eva. I think he's starting to come around again."
I had to turn away before I spilled the entire surprise, but I was so happy for my best friend. I couldn't wait to see her face when she and Mason returned from their picnic. "So, what kind of food do you want?" I asked, already opening the refrigerator and yanking out deli meat. Sandwiches sounded like a nice light meal for the simple kind of proposal Reese would prefer.
She tried to assist me in packing the supper, but she was so eager to get going and too busy jabbering about what might've cheered Mason up that she mostly just followed me around as I bagged up some fruit and veggies along with some of her favorite chocolate chip cookies.
When Mason returned to the kitchen, he slid a hand into his pocket and leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. I noticed he'd totally forgotten to put on a hat as he said he was going to do, but Reese didn't. She just smiled adoringly.