A lot of access points. He made a mental note to have Wes set up an alarm system in the house.
Mason pulled his boots off and placed them neatly along the wall. Colt dropped his bag to the floor to remove his as well. His nerves jangled, and his skin buzzed, edgy at being in Mason’s space, standing far too close, breathing his comforting scent.
“Right, so . . .” Mason rubbed his hands on his thighs—hard, ranch-born muscles wrapped in snug denim that Colt didn’t want to notice. Mason looked away quickly, his Adam’s apple rising and falling as he swallowed. “I’ll just show you to the guest room.”
Colt nodded, picked up his bag, and waited a couple of seconds before following Mason deeper into the house. He noted a sitting room with stairs that led to an open loft above it that overlooked the main floor. From his angle, the loft looked to be an office. No access points to worry about up there.
“That’s Katie’s room,” Mason said as they passed a closed door.
Opposite it was a spacious bathroom with a separate tub and shower. At the end of the hall were two doors, both open. Mason turned and went through the doorway to the right.
“This is the guest room,” Mason said quietly.
Which meant the room across from his was Mason’s. His heart skipped an annoying double beat at the thought of Mason so close. He entered the room ahead of Mason and looked around. The room was just as inviting and easy-feeling as the rest of the house, with its cedar-framed queen-sized bed and wheat-colored bedsheets topped with warm-toned orange, red, and yellow throw pillows. Matching lamps sat on night tables at each side of the bed. Opposite the bed were two sitting chairs and a small cedar table, a few hardcover books stacked on top. In the back corner was a sliding barn door that revealed a private bathroom.
“Air’s a bit stale. No one has been in here for a while,” Mason said as he walked across the polished wood floor and opened the window. He turned and frowned. “The sheets could probably use a refresh too.”
“It’s fine,” Colt said sharply.
He tossed his bag onto the bed and stood in the middle of the room, feeling as awkward as Mason looked. He hooked his thumbs through his jeans belt loops. Although he’d known he was going to see Mason again, had psyched himself up for it, the reality of seeing him in person still threw him for a loop. Desire he thought he’d never feel again simmered in the depths of his belly, which, of course, was theverylast thing he wanted.
“You have your own bathroom.” Mason waved an arm toward the barn door. “I keep it stocked, so you should have everything you need.”
Colt nodded and clenched his jaw. Even with the window open, the air in the room was heavy and thick. He needed Mason to leave. He needed a minute alone to sit down and recalibrate his brain and emotions so he could focus on the job.
“Look, Colt—”
Colt held his hand up. The tone in Mason’s voice sounded a lot like “so,about that day. . .” Nope, he was not going there. Not yet. He couldn’t talk about their past while he was reeling from a roller coaster of emotions he hadn’t expected or by how handsome he still found Mason. “I’ll just freshen up and then meet you in the kitchen. My brothers should be here any minute.”
“Yeah.” Mason looked away but didn’t move. “Okay. I’ll just . . .”
As though a switch flipped, Mason jerked and strode across the room. His arm brushed against Colt as he passed him. The barely there contact sent a rush of heat over Colt’s skin and into his chest. Mason stumbled, his breath caught, and Colt’s fingers twitched from a sudden and unbidden need to reach out and touch Mason before he disappeared through the doorway.
Colt squeezed his eyes shut and groaned inwardly once Mason was gone. He released his breath in a whoosh. How was he going to get through this job? He came here expecting to be as angry as he’d been when Mason had first walked away from him. He’d wanted to rail against Mason, wanted to know if Mason had only been experimenting and had never truly loved him.
He’dwantedto hate him.
But grown-up Mason looked and sounded and smelled so damn good. Which only pissed Colt off more. He didnotwant to want Mason.
He dropped down onto the bed with a sigh. He needed to get himself together, keep his focus, and not get distracted by Mason Hayes again. He knew where that road led, and he wasn’t fool enough to travel it twice. At the first sign of conflict, Mason would leave him hanging in the wind.
But would he?
Mason’s dad wasn’t here to bully him anymore, and two decades had passed . . .
“It’s just a job,” Colt whispered.
Voices, laughter, and the sound of dogs barking drifting down the hall signaled it was time to get his shit together. Inhaling a deep breath of fresh mountain air into his lungs, he held it, counted to four, and slowly exhaled. He rose from the bed and made his way into the main living area, where his brothers, Mason, and, he assumed, Mason’s sisters, were gathering around the large dining table.
“Well, if it isn’t Colt Stonebraker, as I live and breathe,” the shorter of the two women said. She placed a pitcher of lemonade with mint leaves floating in it on the table while Mason gathered glasses.
Colt looked between the sisters but had no idea which one was which. It had been so long ago, and they’d all been so young. “I remember you were both little blondies.”
“Trina’s hair isn’t real blonde anymore,” the taller brunette, who would be Katie, then, deadpanned. Her grin was playful. “We were both full-on brunettes by the time we turned sixteen.”
“Hey, now!” Trina returned in mock offense with humor in her voice. She shook her head and gestured for Colt to pull up a chair. Her smile faded. “Sit and we’ll tell you everything Mason won’t.”
Colt chanced a quick glance at Mason, who was looking down at the walnut hardwood floor. A frown marred his still-youthful features. A lock of hair the color of caramel hung over his forehead, and Colt had a sudden urge to guide the strands back into place. He mentally chided himself for the fanciful thought and headed for the table.
