He was not going to survive this man.
The sun rose too early.
Mason woke with an aching jaw, a raw throat, and no regrets the next morning. Maybe it shouldn’t have happened. Not when there was still unresolved history between him and Colt, not when Colt was officially on the ranch as paid security. But those blissful moments on the veranda had also been inevitable. Even with how things had ended and all the years since, he still felt an undeniable connection between them.
He only hoped Colt recognized that too.
But one thing he knew for sure about adult Colton Stonebraker was that he took his job seriously. Getting intimate with the person he’d been hired to protect wasn’t exactly professional, however, which meant Colt was probably going to be in a piss-poor mood today. Much like the first days after the Stonebraker brothers had arrived.
He stalled as long as he could before dressing and making his way down the hall to the kitchen. Wes and Levi sat at the dining table with Colt. Wes had his laptop open, his fingers flying away on the keyboard. Levi was leaned over in his chair, petting both the dogs, and Colt had a cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other, reading something on it.
Colt flicked a look his way, but it was too quick for Mason to get a read on what he was thinking or feeling. One thing was for sure: he was, as predicted, not happy. If Mason hadn’t already known that when he’d awoken, he knew it for sure now. Colt might have been trying for an air of indifference, but the grip on his coffee mug was too tight, and his jaw was clenched. If Mason listened closely enough, he could probably hear Colt’s teeth grinding.
He cleared his throat and moved into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of morning rocket fuel.
“Morning, Mason,” Levi said with far too much enthusiasm for him just then.
Colt rose from the table and crossed to the foyer without even a sideways glance at Mason.
“Wes and Levi are going to stay with you,” Colt said over his shoulder as he shoved his feet into his boots. “I have a couple of things to take care of.”
“What things?” Mason followed, rankled at being ignored and then dictated to. “I have things to do too.”
“And you’ll do them with Wes and Levi.”
The bite in Colt’s voice set him back on his heels, but he quickly schooled his expression. He refused to let Colt see how he’d affected him—not that Colt would notice, anyway. Wes and Levi shared a look that said he’d failed. Fortunately, Colt never bothered to spare him even a fleeting glance.
“Have you eaten yet, Mason?” Levi asked, breaking the suddenly tense atmosphere in the house.
Mason spared Levi a flashing blink and shook his head, too focused on Colt putting his jacket on with jerky movements. Without turning around or acknowledging Mason further, he stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him with a bit more force than necessary.
“C’mon, then,” Levi urged. “Chef Aiden made some wicked French toast at the dining hall this morning.”
Colt stormed along the gravel pathway that ran from Mason’s house to the yard where his truck was parked. He couldn’t look at Mason and not see how his eyes filled with emotions he didn’t want to acknowledge when he was in Mason’s mouth last night. He couldn’t listen to Mason’s raw-throated, raspy voice without desire spiking in his groin. He couldn’t be around Mason and not want to touch him again.
He shook his head as he climbed into the cab of his truck and slammed the door shut. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
He knew today was going to be a bitch, but heneededto focus on the job. That was it. Not lose his heart to Mason Hayes again.
He started the truck and shifted it into gear.
Just find whoever was behind the harassment, vandalism, and threats against Mason and then be on his way. As far away from Colorado as he could get. God, he hoped that would be soon. Now that he’d tasted Mason, felt his lips wrapped around him, watched as he swallowed him down, keeping himself in check was going to be ten times harder.
The farther he drove from the ranch, the easier it became to think about the job rather than Mason and the feel of his mouth and . . .
“Nope,” he said aloud, popping thep.Not going there.
As he neared the town of Havenridge, he replayed the events that had taken place. The graffiti on the barns and Mason’s horse, the threatening notes, emails, and phone calls, the vandalism to the water troughs, fences, and trailer tires, and the attempt on Mason’s life. None of it added up. The perp’s MO was odd. Usually, in situations like this, the suspect started with minor annoyance-type offenses. The more they got away with, the more they were emboldened to step up their game. Their offenses would increase. But going back and forth between petty vandalism to life-threatening attacks and back wasn’t the norm.
Drawing on his profiling training, he rolled the issues around in his head, looking for holes, for details he may have missed. It just didn’t add up. It was as if there were two people committing the crimes.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and the skin on his scalp crawled.
Two people.
Could it be? He tightened his hands on the wheel. Could there be two people working together against Mason? To what end? Scare him enough so he’d cave and they could take whatever it was they wanted or to get rid of him altogether and somehow take over his ranch? Was that the final goal?
He’d have to investigate what would happen with the property in the event of Mason’s untimely death. He assumed it would go to Trina since she was the next oldest sibling, but that wasn’t always the case. He hated to do it, but he was going to have to dig deeper into Brett too. Since he was married to Trina, he stood to take over the ranch with her.
