Page 52 of Bears Not Included

“How long will I have to be here?” I ask the question as if I’m asking it for the first time while Mason drives me to Jimmy’s BLT.

“You mean as our bride?”

“I’m not your bride. You married me as some sort of revenge against Kirill Yenin because you thought he was involved in stealing your painting and that my father and I were working with him. That wasn’t true. You said you believed me, so I don’t buy the whole ‘we found you in our cottage, so you either had to die or become our wife.”

"That's how the story goes, though.”

“This isn’t a fairytale. It’s my life. How long are you going to keep me here?”

“Forever. And happily after.”

“Argh.”

Mason chuckles at my exasperation, and I hate it even more. He pulls into the same parking space that Callen had the day before, and I can’t get out of the car fast enough. His cologne drove me mad the whole time.

“Please don’t tell Jimmy and Babs we’re married. Callen already did that yesterday,” I say, full of annoyed frustration, before I slam the door shut.

My mood dissipates by the time I reach for my apron, and I see Jimmy thinly cutting some tomatoes. The shake in his hand is so much more pronounced now. He shouldn’t be working. And neither should Babs. They should be retired, enjoying themselves with zero money problems.

Having Callen there all through my shift yesterday, should have told me today was just going to be a repeat of it.

I deliberately ignore Mason—he’s taken the same seat as Callen had the day before, where he can keep an eye on the door, the rest of the patrons, and me.

Mason creates his own brand of drama, and of course, all the regulars are similarly curious about his presence in the diner, considering one like him was there just the day before.

And of course, Jimmy and Babs want to meet my friend because that’s what I said he was. Just a friend. Once again, I’m making introductions for the men who have kidnapped me to my elderly employers as if it’s normal.

“Jimmy, Babs, this is Mason Blackstone, my f—”

“Livia was going to say fiancé, but she meant husband. We’re married, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

I want to kill him right there.

“I… Yes, he’s also my husband,” I say as Jimmy and Babs look from me to Mason in utter confusion.

“But I thought you were married to that nice man, Mr. Andrews, who was here yesterday.”

“Umm….” I want to lie so badly, but I can’t come up with anything even remotely plausible.

“I have two husbands,” I say, lowering my head, defeated. For precious moments, Jimmy and Babs are speechless before they decide to just go with it.

“That’s... that’s good for you, Livia,” Babs says, patting my shoulder. Jimmy is still trying to work out the math.

“She actually has three husbands, Mr. and Mrs. Keppler,” Mason says, full of charm, flexing his killer smile like there’s no tomorrow. “You’ll meet the third one tomorrow.”

I really, truly want to kill him. And I totally give up on trying to gauge the Kepplers’ reaction that I do instead have three husbands and not just two husbands.

As soon as they saunter away, more confused than ever, I turn my annoyed-filled focus on Mason.

“You—” But I lose all my words to my ire and simply march away.

Unlike Callen, whom I took pity on and offered the menu eventually, I do an excellent job of leaving Mason without one until Babs takes him one and he orders half of everything on the menu.

Worse, I’m the one who has to take his vanilla milkshake, burger, fries, onion rings, meatloaf, and club sandwich to him.

“I would spit in your drink, but it’ll give Jimmy a heart attack, so be glad.”

“And you think I won’t drink it, pretty girl. I drank the milk from your breasts, tasted the wetness from your pussy when you came after Deacon spanked you, Callen held you down, and I penetrated your pretty asshole with honey butter, and you think a little spit from your sweet little mouth is going to scare me off?” He takes a deep sip of his shake while I turn blood red, looking around the diner, sure, at least the people in the next booth heard every word that Mason said.

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