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Pippa shook her head. “It’s unfortunate but true. Anyways, what did you come here to talk about?”
Mason scraped the last bit of the rice from his bowl. He’d devoured it in no time.
“Do you want more? There’s plenty.”
“No, I’m good.” He took a sip of water. He didn’t want to eat her out of house and home. He was a big man with a big appetite.
His gaze snagged on the low-cut top she wore, her nipples pressing against the thin fabric. Clearly, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Was she turned on?
Pippa’s arms crossed over her chest. “Mason?”
Shit, he’d been caught staring. “I’m sorry, what?”
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Oh, uh, Aspen.”
Pippa nodded. Her brown eyes softened at his daughter’s name. The corners of her mouth quirked up. “She’s a special young woman. She mentioned it was just the two of you.”
“Yeah.” His voice was gruff. Pippa’s smile dropped. Shit. “Is she . . . intruding on your time?”
Pippa leaned back in her chair, watching him intently. “Not at all. We have a lot in common, actually. My mother passed when I was twelve. And it was just my dad and me for a long time. My sister is ten years older than me, so she was already out of the house.”
Mason’s chest tightened at the pain in Pippa’s eyes as she recounted losing her mother. Maybe that was why she could relate so well with Aspen.
“Your daughter is smart and creative, with a good head on her shoulders and a lot of empathy in her heart. I enjoy our time together . . . Does our friendship bother you?” The corners of her eyes creased in concern.
Mason shook his head. “No. Not at all. I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t bothering you. I know you’re a lot closer to her age than I am. How old are you, anyways?”
Pippa’s eyes narrowed as she sat up a little straighter. “I’m not that young. I’m twenty-six.”
Mason was thirty-four. Eight years her senior. She probably viewed him as an old man.
“Aspen seems to feel comfortable talking to you about things. I just wanted to know if I could count on you to let me know if she tells you something that could lead to her getting hurt or being put in danger?”
She tapped one neon-yellow nail onto the table twice. “Aspen adores you. I’m sure she would tell you herself.”
“I didn’t know who the 3Cs were until I overheard her mention them to you in the café,” he admitted.
Her eyes dropped to her near empty bowl, and she nodded before meeting his gaze again. “I’ll be sure to tell you if she shares anything that you would need to intervene on, but I won’t betray Aspen’s trust unless she’s in danger.”
“It’s more the bullies I’m worried about. She told me there was an altercation between those girls and you in the store?”
Pippa sighed and stirred her food. “Yeah. I overheard the main one, Cara, calling Pippa and her friend some derogatory terms for lesbians. When I intervened, they turned that venom on me, and I promptly kicked them out.”
His fists clenched. Cara was probably repeating what her father, Lester Marby, had been saying at home. The man was a bigot and had had to be hauled out of The Shipwreck on more than one occasion, drunk and ready for a fight.
Pippa’s eyes widened as she leaned back from him as if he were about to blow up at her. That small flash of fear in her gaze was enough to snap him out of the angry red haze. “I’m sorry. I just hate to hear that my little girl had to deal with that.”
Her shoulders relaxed as she took another sip of water. “It’s okay. I get it. I was also the target of many bullies growing up.”
“You were bullied?”
“I was the mixed, plus-size girl with seizures. Couldn’t have found an easier target.”
His gaze skated down her curves. She was gorgeous—every inch. Those bastards had probably been jealous. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s in the past. I know what and who I am.”
