Page 4 of I Choose You

His cheeks fill with air, and he blows out a breath. “Honestly? Hell no. At least not for a while longer, but she’s good for him. Never seen him so happy before.”

“She definitely pushes his buttons,” I say quietly, tilting my head and focusing on their interlocked hands, “but in a good way.”

Seeing Luke with someone he cares for so much is bittersweet in the best and worst of ways. I’m thrilled that he’s found someone he can be himself around and who truly makes him happy, but knowing I’ll never have that saddens me in a way that chokes me up and creates a building pressure I have trouble blinking away.

“Hey, about damn time someone does,” he says, his voice lighter than mine. “He deserves it.”

My brain shifts to Mason’s workload and lack of social life, and I wonder… “When are you going to find that,” I chance a glance over at him, “or do you plan to stay devoted to your job forever?”

He shrugs. “I’m not worried about it. It’ll happen when the time is right. What about you?” He nudges my upper arm with his elbow. “You going to free your wings and fly finally?” I find it interesting he asks because he already knows the answer. He was there during the hardships, the things that made me close up shop. Life broke me down enough to never want to trust another man with my heart again.

I look over at him pointedly. “What do you think?”

“I think,” he pauses, “one day a nice guy will come along, and you’ll miss your chance.”

“Why change something that doesn’t need fixing?” I’m content with life. Adding a man will take away from that. “Besides, I’m busy with work too, you know. I’m focused on helping Jessie’s Shelter as much as possible.”

“True. The animals at the shelter have the best damn person looking out for them.” He elbows me playfully again and winks when I glance over.

I smile at the thought of being the only adoption coordinator for a small shelter on the other side of Quaint, Maine. It makes my heart swell with pride, knowing that I find safe homes for the abused and abandoned animals that come in.

I know what it’s like to feel unwanted, to be left behind like a scraggily sweatshirt, never to be thought about again. So to say the animals there mean the world to me is an understatement.

Mason and I fall into a comfortable silence until we reach the car, and he opens the back door. His fingers curl around my wrist, stopping me before I’m able to slide in. “No matter who or what comes into my life, you’re always going to be my number one. Even when we’re married and have kids running around left and right, and our jobs push and pressure us. It’s you and me against the world, Kenz.”

Like it’s been since we were kids.

When he lets go, my breath hitches. I chalk it up to being caught off guard. Strong emotion passes through his gaze and captures my heart, making it swell yet again. Then, Luke’s car door slamming shut makes me blink, and I climb into the backseat, knowing damn well that while our jobs may ask more from us, there’s no way I’ll ever be married, much less create a family.

My heart was made for me, not to be taken out and handed over for the sake of matrimony. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever hand it over. Not after it was broken by the one man who was meant to protect and cherish it.

2

Mason

Richard Keller, my boss, drops a stack of papers on my keyboard. It screws with my spreadsheet, inputting characters in places they shouldn’t be, and I internally curse. There’s barely enough time in the day to eat lunch, let alone fix asinine mistakes like this when my report is due in the client’s inbox in twenty-four hours.

“What’s this,” I ask, perusing the papers.

“Take a guess.” His unduly deep voice reminds me of my dad’s overbearing raspy yells when Luke and I were up to no good as kids.

My gaze skates across the top of the page, my stomach twisting and my shoulders tensing when I see it’s a stack of potential clients. The thought of adding more to my overflowing plate rubs me the wrong way.

Richard works me dry. I have little left in me at the end of the day. For weeks—months—I’ve been plugging my efforts into these start-up companies that are looking for a good return on their marketing efforts. I set them up with a plan and manage it for them until business increases. Once figures match what they’re asking, what they hope I can earn them with my specialized formula I invented in my last year of college, I hand their accounts back with a detailed task list that includes an annual calendar to keep them on track.

My reaction isn’t because I don’t enjoy my job; quite the opposite. It’s satisfying to plug in numbers, figure out a plan, and see the results come to fruition. What I don’t enjoy is my boss trying to tap more water out of an already empty well.

I need a break or, at the very least, to slow down until I can get a proper handle on the accounts I’m managing. Any more, and my reports are going to start turning up late.

“Come to my office,” Richard says bluntly, then begins to walk away before I can offer a response. “There are things we need to discuss.”

My palm scrubs at the exhaustion settling in from too many long nights and not enough sleep as I follow closely behind. I have an idea of what he’s going to say. Scan through those companies and compile a list. Put the ones with a faster turnaround at the top. We’ll start there.

Richard hasn’t run this office for the last seventeen years because he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I may be the one who manages the accounts and runs the campaigns, but he’s the one who’s in contact with them long before their marketing goals are slapped on my desk or sent to my inbox.

I hurry behind, sinking my hands into the pockets of my slacks as I trudge along. He’s rounding the side of his desk as I close his office door quietly. “What’s going on, Richard?”

As much as I’d like to chat, I need to get back to work.

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