Page 30 of Master Daddy

LUKE: Playdate was super fun! Miss you already. Gym tomorrow?

His reply comes almost instantly…

Mason: Good boy. Can’t wait. Sleep well, little one. Unless you feel like a quick drink at the Lantern? Call it a night-cap?

I smile at the screen, warmth blooming in my chest. Whatever Patrick wants, it doesn’t change what I have right now. Mason makes me feel seen, safe, and strong.

I just hope this old ghost doesn’t ruin the beautiful thing that’s starting to grow between me and my Mountain Daddy…

* * *

Later that evening, the Woody Hollow is warm and lively, filled with the usual mix of locals unwinding after a long day. Mason and I managed to snag our favorite corner booth near the back.

The jukebox is playing soft country, and the scent of burgers and beer fills the air.

I’m sipping a strawberry lemonade—virgin, because of training tomorrow—while Mason nurses a cold pint. Normally these nights with him feel like magic… easy laughter, his big hand resting on my thigh under the table, that protective warmth that makes me feel so small and safe at the same time.

But tonight something feels slightly off, even before the conversation turns serious.

My phone has been buzzing in my pocket every so often. I’ve been trying to ignore it, but Mason notices.

Of course he does.

Daddy notices everything.

“Who keeps messaging you, little one?” Mason asks casually, though I catch the slight edge in his voice. He sets his beer down and leans back, one thick arm draped along the back of the booth.

My stomach tightens. I didn’t want to bring this up tonight. I wanted it to be just us—good food, flirty touches, maybe a little Daddy praise before we head home. But I hate lying to him, even by omission.

I take a deep breath. “It’s… Patrick.”

The change in Mason is immediate. His easy smile vanishes. His shoulders stiffen, and that warm, open expression I love so much shutters into something harder. Colder. The mountain man who can bench press a small car suddenly looks like he’s ready to throw one through the window.

“Patrick,” Mason repeats, voice flat. “Your ex.”

I nod quickly, reaching across the table to squeeze his big hand. “It’s not what you think. I promise. I have zero feelings for him anymore. None. He was awful… controlling, mean, made me question everything about myself. Today he texted saying he wants to make amends. Apologize properly. End things on good terms. I haven’t even replied yet. Mrs. Peplinska and the boys think maybe meeting him for one coffee in public could give me closure, but… I don’t know.”

Mason’s jaw clenches.

I watch as he stares into his beer for a long moment, thumb absently stroking the condensation on the glass. The good mood we walked in with has completely evaporated. There’s a stiffness to him now, like every muscle is coiled tight.

“I’m not worried about you, Luke,” Mason finally says, voice low and rough. “You’re strong. You know your worth now. It’s that sonofabitch Patrick I don’t trust. Men like him don’t just wake up one day wanting to make amends. They want something. Control. Attention. Or worse.”

Mason’s protectiveness should make me feel safe. Instead, guilt twists in my chest. I hate that I’ve brought this shadow into our evening.

“I know,” I say softly, scooting closer so our thighs press together. “That’s why I’m being careful. But ignoring him forever feels… unfinished. Like he still has this tiny piece of power over my peace. One quick coffee, hear him out, and then I can block him for good. That’s all.”

Mason exhales through his nose, nodding once, but the tension doesn’t leave his body.

“If you decide to do it, you tell me the when and where,” Mason says. “I’ll be nearby. Not hovering, just… close enough.”

I smile, even though my heart feels heavy. “My big protective Daddy.”

Mason tries to return the smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Always.”

I squeeze his hand tighter. “I don’t want to ruin the rest of the evening talking about him. Please? Let’s just enjoy being here together.”

Mason drains the rest of his beer in one long pull and sets the glass down with a decisive clink. “Actually, it’s probably time we headed home anyway. Early training tomorrow. Can’t have you showing up tired and sassy.”