Page 42 of Master Daddy

The diner booth is loud with laughter and the clatter of plates over the poppy soundtrack coming from the ever present jukebox. This is my kind of place and one of the reasons I love living back home so much.

Taron is perched on Kaleb’s lap stealing bites of his massive stack of pancakes while he pretends to be annoyed. Mason has his arm draped casually around my shoulders, thumb stroking slow circles on my upper arm. Every so often he leans down and presses a kiss to my temple, and I swear my heart does a little happy flip each time.

It feels so natural… being part of this little group, belonging.

By the time we finish eating and say our goodbyes, I’m glowing. Mason walks me the short distance to Mr. and Mrs. Peplinska’s grocery store, our fingers laced together.

As we reach the employee entrance at the back, he stops and turns me to face him. “You hear anything more from Patrick?”

I shake my head.

“Nothing since my last reply,” I say. “I was pretty firm. Wouldn’t surprise me if he just ghosts me now. Probably realized I’m not interested in his version of closure. But thanks for asking and for being so cool.”

Mason nods, his expression thoughtful but steady.

“Hey, that’s me. Cool. But about Patrick… that’s a shame, but maybe it’s for the best. You don’t owe him anything, little one. You’ve already moved on. It’s up to him what he does with his life. Whatever. We’ve got one another, and no city slicker is going to get in our way.”

“Yup!” I reply, smiling from ear to ear.

Mason cups my face with both big hands and kisses me—slow, deep, and full of promise. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine for a second. “Have a good shift. Text me when you’re done. I’ll pick you up if you want.”

“I will,” I whisper, stealing one more quick kiss before slipping inside.

The familiar scent of the store hits me right away: fresh bread, produce, and that faint cardboard-and-canned-goods smell from the stockroom wraps around me like an old friend.

Mrs. Peplinska is up front arranging a display of local honey jars. She looks up and beams when she sees me.

“There’s my favorite boy,” Mrs. Peplinska says. “You’re glowing today, Luke. That big mountain man treating you right?”

I can’t help the shy smile that spreads across my face. “He really is. Actually… I wanted to talk to you about something.”

We move to the small office in the back while things are quiet. I take a deep breath and tell her everything: the Healing Club possibly going up for sale, Mason and me thinking about buying it together, the chance to build something of our own in Hardrock Park.

Mrs. Peplinska listens quietly, her kind eyes never leaving my face.

When I finish, she reaches over and takes both my hands in hers.

“Oh, honey,” Mrs. Peplinska says. “Nothing in this world would make me prouder than seeing you step up and become a local business owner. You’ve got such a big heart and so much energy. This town needs more people like you running things.” She gives my hands a gentle squeeze. “And between you and me… you’re not exactly the world’s greatest stock taker. If you decide to go for this, we’ll figure out how to survive and we might even get the stock count right from time to time too! I’m just teasing, but seriously don’t you worry about leaving me short. I’ve always known you were destined for bigger things.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I throw my arms around her in a tight hug, breathing in her familiar lavender scent. “Thank you. That means everything.”

Mrs. Peplinska hugs me back just as fiercely. “You go chase that dream, Luke. And bring that handsome Mason of yours around for dinner sometime. I want to sit down properly with the man who’s got you smiling like this.”

I pull back, giggling through the happy tears. “Deal.”

The rest of my shift flies by in a warm, contented haze. I tackle the chips and cereal aisles with extra bounce in my step, humming along to the soft music playing over the store speakers.

Every time I lift a box or face a shelf neatly, I imagine doing something similar at the Healing Club—maybe creating a cozy Little corner with stuffies and coloring books, or planning community events. The future feels bright and possible.

By the time my shift ends, I’m practically floating.

I clock out, say goodbye to Mrs. Peplinska with another quick hug, and step out onto the main strip. The late afternoon sun is warm, the trees are rustling gently overhead, and everything feels perfect. All I need now is for Mason to fully get on board with the Healing Club idea.

Together, we could really make it ours.

I picture us running it side by side—him keeping everything safe and strong, me making it warm and welcoming. Maybe even adding a small juice bar with protein shakes and Little-friendly snacks. The vision makes me grin like an idiot as I walk down the sidewalk, swinging my little bag.

The way my mind is whirring with possibilities and ideas, I’m actually surprised that I don’t start to levitate and drift off into the big fluffy white clouds above. This can be a big success, I know it can. Of course, it’ll require Mason getting on board but I’ve got a feeling he’s really coming round to the idea.