Reckless (The Mason Family Series Book 3) by Adriana Locke (no david read aloud .TXT) 📕

was staying at Libby’s next door. But Ted was fucking—sleeping with someone, so Libby left him. Anyway,” I say, trying to get to the point, “she has nowhere to stay and just found out her sister died and that she left behind a little girl named Rosie.”

I pause to take a breath. The line grows quiet.

“Mom?”

“I’m just waiting on you to finish,” she says.

“I’m finished. I just … This isn’t my wheelhouse, Mom. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know if I did the right thing. Jaxi needs actual adult help, and I don’t know that I can give her that.”

Mom laughs.

“This isn’t funny,” I tell her. “You know what? Oliver is right. I’m impulsive. I’m the king of it. But what was I supposed to do? Send them to the streets?”

“No, honey. You were supposed to do whatever you did, which I assume by the slight panic in your voice is that you let them stay with you.”

“You would assume correctly.”

She laughs softly. “So what is the level of your relationship with the woman? Are you seeing her? Acquaintances? Friends?”

“I’d like to be fucking her if—”

“Boone Michael Mason, this is your last warning.”

I grin. “Sorry. I’d like to be procreating with her except not actually making children if there wasn’t already a child in my bed as we speak.” I raise my mug to my lips. “Better?”

“Oh, Boone.” She sighs. “Okay. So you like the woman. What’s her name?”

“Jaxi.”

“Cute. So we have Jaxi and Rosie?”

“Yes, Mom,” I say, getting impatient.

“And for what am I being summoned?”

It’s my turn to sigh. “I don’t know. This isn’t something I do. This is something Oliver does.”

“Actually, you’re wrong. Oliver wouldn’t do this. He’d pay for them to go to a hotel, but he wouldn’t let them stay in his house. This is absolutely a you thing to do.”

“Nope.”

She laughs. “Well, you did it, so I’m taking that as a point in my favor.”

I shrug. “So, I guess I’m not coming to dinner today because we’re going to need to get a bed and some things for Rosie,” I say, glancing at the table. “We need groceries and, like, toys, I guess. She might need a watch.”

“How old is she?”

“Rosie is four.”

Mom laughs again, louder this time. “She doesn’t need a watch, Boone. She needs a doll.”

“She likes my watch,” I say, watching the light reflect off the face of mine in the sunlight.

Mom’s coffee maker kicks on in the background. I lean against the counter and take another drink.

She’s right. Rosie doesn’t need a watch. That was a dumb idea. But I still want to get her one, which is even dumber. I can imagine her wearing a little rose gold band on her wrist and stopping every few feet to look at the face.

The thought makes me smile.

“Would you and Jaxi be upset if I came over to help you today?” she asks.

“It’s Sunday dinner day.”

“Maybe we could have it at your house. We could all bring something over and help your guests get settled in. I know Blaire and Bellamy would love to help. Oliver and Wade will come to eat, and we can get them to help us put things together. It would be fun.”

I take another sip. “I do love watching them have to do what you say.”

She blows out an amused breath. “You know that acts of service is my love language. It would thrill me to death to get to shop for a little girl—especially since my sons refuse to give me grandkids.”

“Coy knocked up Bells. You’re getting one.”

“And that will be the only one if the rest of you don’t get on board.”

“That’s not what we need to get on, Mother.”

She acts shocked, but we both know it’s a lie.

I chuckle. “I’m not going to argue with you because we both know you’re already mentally planning this entire thing out.”

“I am. Does three this afternoon sound good? That will give us time to eat and to get everything set up. And to get back to the store if we miss anything.”

“Yeah. Like there will be something you miss.”

“You’re right. I won’t.” She seems pleased with herself. “Is that all you need me for? If so, I’m going to look at what’s available for little girls these days. Does she like anything in particular?”

I think. “Puppies. Watches. Cake. Mermaids?”

Mom laughs. “The fact that you know that just fills me with joy.”

“Don’t you dare tell Oliver.”

Her laughter grows. “I’ll see you this afternoon. If you need something specifically, text me.”

“I love you, Mommy.”

“Love you, baby boy.”

I sit back and take another long drink of my coffee.

And that’s how you get shit done. 

I’m thinking about which of the two guest rooms to let Rosie have—the one full of shit or the one I use as a workout room—when a noise at the doorway makes me jump.

“You scared the fuck out of me,” I say as Jaxi comes around the corner.

Her eyes are as wide as plates. “You scared me. I didn’t know you were up. Coffee?”

“Over there.”

I watch her walk around the island with the shortest shorts barely covering her behind. The thin fabric hangs off the globes of her ass. Each step she takes causes the fabric to ride up and almost gives me a glimpse of the curve from her bottom to her thigh.

Fuck. Me. 

She disposes of my used coffee pod and puts another in the machine.

“Did you sleep okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I lie. “You?”

“Yeah.”

I think she’s lying too.

“My family is coming over today,” I tell her. “It’s going to be mass chaos, and they’re bringing stuff to help you guys get settled.”

Jaxi whirls around. “Your family? Boone …”

“They just want to help.”

“I don’t …” She takes a long breath and closes her eyes for a moment. “I don’t know what to do in this situation.”

“Um, say okay. Or thank you. Or, Wow, that’s great?”

She opens her eyes. “It’s hard for me to accept charity. Even when it’s well-meant. It makes me feel really