Page 36 of Master Daddy

Milo’s next. He’s braver, sinking in slowly, but even he taps out after a minute and a half, splashing water everywhere as he scrambles up the steps. “Okay, that was evil. Your turn, Luke!”

I take a deep breath, drop my towel, and step in. The cold is shocking. My breath catches, every muscle locks up, but I force myself to breathe the way Mason taught me during our warmup sessions. One minute. Two. My teeth chatter, but I hold on, thinking of him, of proving I can be strong even when things feel icy between us.

At two minutes and ten seconds I haul myself out, legs wobbly, whole body tingling and alive. I’m grinning like an idiot, proud of myself, when movement at the entrance catches my eye.

The three Daddies walk in—Mason, Kaleb, and Connor—all in nothing but fully-packed swim shorts. Mason’s broad chest and powerful arms are on full display, muscles glistening under the lights. My heart stutters.

Taron and Milo notice too. They exchange a quick look and then, bless them, give me space. “We’re hitting the sauna,” Taron says loudly, grabbing Milo’s hand. “You two… talk.”

They disappear down the corridor, leaving me standing there in my dripping shorts, my heart hammering.

Mason’s eyes lock on mine across the plunge area. He looks tired—shadows under his eyes, jaw tight—but the second he sees me something softens in his expression. Kaleb and Connor clap him on the shoulder and head toward the main sauna, clearly giving us privacy too.

Mason walks over slowly. “Luke.”

“Hi,” I whisper. My voice feels small in the big open space.

Mason jerks his chin toward the small private sauna at the end of the hall—the one meant for two people. “Can we…?”

I nod. We step inside together. The door clicks shut behind us.

It’s smaller, hotter than the one I was just in, the cedar walls radiating intense dry heat. We sit on the bench facing each other, knees almost touching. Sweat is already forming on his chest, tracing the ridges of his abs. It’s impossible not to notice how ridiculously hot he looks—both from the sauna and just… him.

At first neither of us speaks. The heat presses in, thick and heavy. I shift on the towel beneath me, nerves and leftover sadness swirling.

Mason clears his throat. “I owe you an apology, little one. For last night. Getting jealous like that… letting it ruin our evening… that wasn’t fair to you. I shut down instead of talking. I hated the idea of Patrick anywhere near you, but I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

His voice is rough, sincere. I can see it in his eyes—the regret, the vulnerability he doesn’t show often. My chest loosens.

“I get it,” I say softly. “Jealousy happens. But yeah… it hurt when you went quiet. I need you to talk to me, Mason. Tell me when something’s bothering you instead of pulling away. And you don’t have to worry about Patrick. There’s nothing there. You’re the one I want. You’re the one who makes me feel safe and strong and… wanted.”

Mason nods, shoulders dropping like a weight has lifted.

“I know,” he begins. “I trust you. I just… I’ve never done this before. Not like this. And with me leaving for the rig soon…” Mason trails off, then meets my eyes. “We’ll take things step by step. Communicate better. No more shutting down.”

Relief floods through me, warm and sweet. “Step by step sounds perfect.”

A small smile tugs at his mouth, the first real one I’ve seen since last night. His gaze drifts over me slowly, taking in my body, the way sweat glistens on my skin. “You look incredible, by the way. Sauna heat looks good on you.”

Heat that has nothing to do with the room rushes to my cheeks. “You’re one to talk,” I tease, letting my eyes roam over his powerful frame. “Hot in every way possible.”

Mason chuckles, low and warm, and reaches out his big hand. I take it without hesitation, our fingers lacing together. His palm is warm and steady against mine.

We sit like that for a minute, just holding hands in the heat, the tension from last night melting away. Then we hear laughter and splashing from outside—Kaleb, Connor, Taron, and Milo clearly gearing up for another round of cold plunge.

“Ready to join them?” Mason asks, squeezing my hand.

I grin, feeling lighter than I have all morning. “Only if you promise to hold my hand when I scream from the cold.”

“Deal, little one,” Kaleb says, his voice a low drawl.

We stand together, still linked, and step out into the brighter area. The others are already at the plunge pool, daring each other. Mason keeps my hand in his as we walk over, his thumb stroking my knuckles.

The future still feels a little uncertain—with the rig, with Patrick, with everything—but right now, in this moment, with his hand in mine and my friends nearby, it feels like we’re going to be okay.

Step by step, hot or cold, we’re going to give this our best shot.

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