Fallen Crest Home(46)

And this meant I had an entire afternoon just for running. I’d been skipping lately, which seemed to appease Mason. He always reached for me when he woke in the mornings, and the last few days, I’d been there.

Those had been good mornings indeed.

This morning had been no exception. He reached for me, and it wasn’t long before he was sliding inside. I knew this was always the best way to start a day. Always. No exceptions.

My theory had been reinforced when we went to the kitchen and saw the haggard set of Nate and Matteo’s shoulders.

I pointed at Nate’s face. “You actually look green.”

He moaned, lurching for the sink. Grabbing hold of the counter, he waited, but nothing came out. He was only dry heaving.

“Oh my God. Never challenge Matteo to a shot contest. And if he challenges you, just let him have the victory.” He gave Matteo a dark look where he lay across the island counter, his butt on a barstool.

His mouth moved against the granite. “I still don’t think you won.”

“Oh, God.” Nate held his head over the sink again. “It comes in waves. I have air, and then nausea. Air, then nausea. It won’t go away.”

Mason moved behind me, putting the coffee into the machine. I held the empty pot, unsure if I wanted to use the sink.

“That could be contaminated just by you being there,” I noted.

“What?” Nate saw what was in my hand. “Oh.” He moved back. “Go for it, quick. I might spew at any moment.”

I filled it quickly and poured the water in the machine as I pressed brew. It started to churn, and I stepped away. “If you guys are so hung over, why are you up?”

Both pointed to Mason.

I looked up at him. He grinned. “I have today off. I made them promise to get up and go golfing with me, no matter how much they drank last night. They promised.”

“You’re going golfing?”

He nodded.

“Were you drinking last night?”

“It’s not really the actual act of golfing that’s of interest. It’s more about who else is going to be there.” His eyes locked on mine, waiting for me to figure it out.

Mason had two enemies, at least that we were dealing with right now. One was not the golfing type, but the other…

“Ah. I got it.” Adam or his father was going to be on that golf course. “And that reminds me, Malinda is throwing a BBQ at the country club today. She reserved the pool and everything.”

Nate and Matteo groaned.

Even Mason grimaced. “You’re going to make me go to that?”

“If I have to go, my posse has to go.”

“We’re your posse?” Nate was grinning at me, or trying. The pallor of his skin made him look like the Joker.

“Mason is, and you’re his, so same thing. I need backup.”

Nate glanced to Mason. “Quinn will be at the party. That’s different than what we have planned for today. That’s socializing.” He said it like that was a bad word.

“I think Quinn senior, too.” Wait. I didn’t know that. “Well, maybe not. I don’t know, but it’s at the country club. It’s Saturday. I wouldn’t be surprised if he shows up.”

Matteo sat up, clutching his stomach, and asked, “Why do we care about Adam’s dad?”

Mason, Nate, and I shared a look before Nate coughed. “Uh…We don’t. Why would you think that?”

Matteo lifted his head in confusion. “What? But you guys just said—”

Mason moved forward, reaching behind me for the filled coffee pot. “He was an ass to Sam one time in school. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Matteo looked to me. “Sorry, Sam. I’m sure he won’t be anymore. He’s probably ecstatic about his son’s engagement.” He smiled, and a dimple showed in his cheek. “It’s kind of sweet, if you think about it. One rich family falling in love with another rich family. They can make babies who are even richer. It’s like you guys all know how to seek each other out, really stick it to the poor folk. Don’t want them contaminating the breeding well.”

This wasn’t normal Matteo, and I glanced at Mason. I wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Becky and Adam met in high school,” Mason said. “It was a private school, but I didn’t go there. Sam transferred out for her last year and a half of school. And you ain’t poor anymore, Matteo. You’ve got NFL teams eyeing you. Your parents might not have a lot of money, but that doesn’t mean they would contaminate anything. They made the best fucking lineman I’ll always want running next to me. No money, no breeding, no private schools could produce someone like you, and I’m thankful.”