by Kaylea Cross
Mason loved it. Loved being outside in nature, and he couldn’t wait to get set up here to do some shooting, rappelling, kayaking and other things they had planned. Teach some courses, use his skills and expertise for the first time in too long.
It felt good to be excited about something again. For too long he’d been trapped in a dark place, and it finally felt like the light was starting to penetrate the shadows. Now he had RTC to look forward to with his closest friends—and his upcoming weekend with Avery. She wasn’t going to be able to ignore him then.
He and the surveyor had just come into view of their vehicles when an old truck roared up the driveway. Mason tensed, reaching down to grab Ric’s collar as an old man climbed out wearing a furious expression.
“Can I help you?” he asked cautiously, his free hand ready to draw the pistol from its holster on his hip. He liked being able to carry here with his weapons permit. The surveyor stood off to the side, watching warily.
The old man stormed toward Mason, a pissed off expression on his bearded, weathered face. “You Baldwin?”
“No. I’m his business partner.” He stood his ground and moved in front of Ric, reading the aggression and rage in the man’s posture and expression. “Who are you?”
“Ray Gladstone. I own this property,” he snapped.
Mason frowned. “That’s not what the title on it says.”
The man’s face twisted. “I don’t give a goddamn what the paperwork says!” He thumped a finger into his chest. “I own this land, it’s been in my family for five goddamn generations, and I won’t sell it to anyone.”
What the hell was this? This was the first Mason had heard of any internal friction with the owners. “Ray, the seller already accepted our offer. As soon as the bank—”
“My family can go to hell. I never agreed to the sale, so you can take your offer and shove it where the sun don’t shine.”
Okay, then. “You need to take this up with whoever is on the title. Not me. But it’s already a done deal.” Almost.
The old man’s eyes widened with fury. Mason braced himself as Ray came at him, taking a swing at Mason’s face, but he ducked and moved out of the way. He wasn’t going to hit an old man, no matter how angry the guy was.
“Hey,” the surveyor snapped, storming toward them.
Mason held out a hand to stop him, his gaze trained on Ray, who had caught his balance and whirled to face him, shaking with rage. There was no way he was getting into a fight with an old man. Old-timer had no idea he was facing off with a former JTF2 operator.
“We’re not doing this. You need to take it up with your relatives,” Mason told him firmly. “And if you harass me or my partners again, I’m calling the police.”
Ray straightened and took a deep breath, glaring holes into Mason’s face. “I’m warning you, get out of here now. This land isn’t for sale. Not while I’m still breathing.” With that he spun and stormed back to his truck.
It reversed and roared down the driveway, its tires kicking up gravel and dirt as Ray sped away.
Mason looked over at the surveyor, who looked stunned. “Know him?”
“Not really. Seen him around town at the bar a couple times. Damn.”
Mason nodded. “Thanks for coming out.” He let Ric in the passenger side of the Jeep, then got in and fired up the engine. A seed of worry took root in his gut. Ray might be pushing eighty, but he was mad as hell and might cause enough trouble with his relatives to get the deal pulled.
On the drive back to town he called Tate to tell him the news. “Ray Gladstone?” Tate said, sounding confused. “He wasn’t listed on the title.”
“I know. But you might want to talk to whoever was, to make sure this won’t be a problem. He threw a punch at me.”
“Wow. All right, will do. You heading back to town now?”
“No, I’m gonna take Ric for a hike first.” He needed to blow off some steam and clear his head.
He drove to a spot he’d found soon after moving to Rifle Creek, and called his mom in Calgary on the way. “Hey,” he said when she answered.
“Mason! How are you, babe?”
He loved that she still called him that. She’d fostered dozens of kids in her lifetime, but he was the only one she called babe. Just hearing her voice made everything better, erasing the anxiety beginning to churn in his mind. “Good. May have a little hiccup with the property we offered on, but I hope not.” It was the best available piece of land in the area, and he was already in love with it. He didn’t want to lose it now.
“Why, what happened?”
He explained the situation. “It’s probably nothing. Just got me thinking.”
“Yeah, too much, probably.”
That made him grin. She knew him better than anyone, even himself. “Yeah, probably.”
“You know what? You can stop worrying right now, because I have a good feeling about all this. It’s going to work out and you’re going to be happy there.”
He shook his head fondly. “I need to introduce you to Nina. Between your gut feelings and her insane optimism, you two could conquer the world together.”
“Tate’s girlfriend, right? I’d love to meet her. By the way, how’s the new digs working out for you and your boy?”
She and Ric loved each other to a ridiculous degree. “So far, so good.”
“Yeah? Landlord’s nice?”
“Yeah, she’s real nice.” A little frosty to him, maybe, but she’d still let him rent her suite when he’d needed a place. She must like him a little. “And I think she’s starting to warm to me a little. We’re going to a wedding together this weekend.”
Nancy was quiet a second. “Mason, you tell me everything right now.”
He chuckled at the demand, easily picturing her leaning against the kitchen counter in her faded jeans and a sweater, her long gray hair up in a ponytail, all her attention on him as she stared out the window above the sink. “She needed someone to go with her. It’s a three-day thing at a guest ranch near Billings.”
“You’re spending three days with a bunch of strangers for her?” She sounded skeptical.
“Yep.”
“So then you’re into her.” Satisfaction dripped from every word.
Oh, he was into Avery. More than he’d been into any woman in a damn long time. If she wasn’t Tate’s partner, he would definitely be trying to get her into bed. Not that he was going to say that to the woman he considered to be his mother. “I’m just helping her out.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “So you’re…not together?”
He smiled at her tone. “No.” Not yet. But hopefully that would change. He was going to take advantage of their forced relationship status to see how far he could move the needle with her this weekend. He was sick of her ignoring him. He wanted her to notice him, and know he wasn’t the only one affected by the chemistry between them. “But I think I just may have found my footing here.”
“I think so too. But Mason?”
“Hmm?”
“If you decide she’s special to you, promise me you won’t walk away.”
A sinking sensation filled his chest. His immediate reaction was to get defensive, to deny he would do that. But she was dead on. That’s exactly what he did when things got too intense—he walked.
Until Nancy, who’d taken in another scared, angry kid and kept him despite all the shitty things he’d done, all the ways he’d acted out. Pushing her and everyone else away because to him it was a foregone conclusion that they’d eventually dump him too.
But not Nancy. She’d stuck with him through everything, had raised him with firm but kind rules and boundaries, tons of love he still wasn’t sure he’d deserved, and eventually taught him to trust her. She was the only person in his entire life he’d ever felt complete security with.
She’d taught him what unconditional love meant and felt like. For that she would always have his undying love and gratitude, and she’d more than earned the title o
f mother. “Thanks, Mom. Love you.”
“I love you too. Give Ric a cuddle for me.”
“I will. Bye.”
Mason continued to drive, lost in his thoughts. He’d had a few moderately serious relationships, but they always fizzled. The last time, his girlfriend had still been in love with the guy who’d come before him. Mason had come home one day to find she’d moved out. Gone back to her ex.
So even though he was more interested in Avery than he had been in anyone in forever, he wouldn’t soon forget the lesson that had confirmed the deep-seated fear he’d carried since he was a kid.
Maybe he was unlovable after all.
****
Shannon waited for the guard to escort her into the prison visiting room. She followed him, unable to keep the smile off her face as she neared the small table in the room already crowded by families visiting their prisoner.
Excitement flooded her. She couldn’t wait to tell Mike what she’d been working on. She’d found them the perfect starter house, a little brick bungalow at a good price, miles out in the countryside where no one would bother or judge them. If he liked it, she would go look at it today and maybe put an offer in. She could swing all their expenses on her own for a month or two, and with his impending parole, he’d be able to get a job and help pay the bills.
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Mike already waiting for her in his orange jumpsuit. His wrist and ankle restraints had been removed. He’d shaved, looking better than he had in ages. And the way he watched her was so damn sexy she almost shivered.
“Hi,” she said as she sat in front of him, only half-listening to the guard’s instructions. No touching, no gifts. Blah, blah. She was impatient to tell Mike everything.
The guard retreated to stand at the side of the room, watching them. Shannon didn’t care. She was just so glad to be able to talk to Mike alone after two weeks of no contact. She had no family anymore. All the men she’d been with had treated her like shit—until Mike. He’d changed her entire world, and now they were planning for their future together.
“You look good,” Mike told her, his brown eyes sweeping over her face, and lower, to the cleavage her new pushup bra and low-cut top showed off. She’d worn them just for him, to show him what he could have when he got out of here.
“Thanks. You look good too.” Since meeting him online eight months ago she’d fallen totally in love with him. He was brilliant, he wasn’t dangerous to her, and he’d paid more attention to her than any man she’d ever been with, even though he’d been behind bars the entire time. After being alone for so long, she would do anything to be with him.
But now that she was up close to him, she could see something was wrong. His expression was set, distant, angry lines around his mouth and between his eyes. The urge to reach for his hands was so strong she had to curl hers into fists to stop it. “What’s wrong?”
His jaw flexed. “My parole was denied.”
She stared at him, sure she’d heard wrong, all her dreams crumbling to dust in front of her eyes. “No.”
“Yeah. Just found out the other day. I’m not getting outta here.”
Grief washed through her at the desolation in his eyes. “Don’t say that. You can’t give up hope.”
He didn’t answer, and her own anger began to build. “What happened?” she asked. “Do you know?” With the amount of time already served on his sentence and his good behavior, the parole board should have granted his early release.
“That bitch cop turned the parole board against me.”
Avery Dahl.
Shannon would never forget that name. That woman was the main reason Mike was in here.
Shannon pressed her lips together as hot tears flooded her eyes. She’d planned her life around being with Mike. Was working two jobs right now to save money in a special account for them. They were supposed to move in together as soon as he was released, then get married. Leave this state and start over fresh, just the two of them.
He’d promised. She’d pinned all her hopes and dreams on him; he was the only man who’d ever understood her. The only person who’d ever really loved her, and she couldn’t go on without him for much longer. It hurt too much.
“Don’t fucking cry. I’m the one locked up in here, not you,” he growled.
She shook her head and wiped her tears away, not bothered by his anger. He was bitterly disappointed, she could forgive him for snapping. “How much longer will you have to wait?”
Resentment burned in his gaze. “I dunno. Another five years, maybe, who knows.”
Five years? She’d be almost thirty by then. She didn’t want to be alone that long, didn’t want to have to wait that long to start their life together.
The shocking news ruined the visit. She left twenty minutes later disheartened and sick to her stomach.
But by the time she’d reached her vehicle, she had already begun to formulate a plan. Because this wasn’t right. Something had to be done.
Mike was trapped in prison. He needed her more than ever. He couldn’t do anything to right this wrong.
But she could.
She had taken revenge on some enemies before. Last time she’d even torched a bitch’s car, burning down the garage and half the house before the fire department put it out. No one had ever found out it was her. And that act of retribution had been in retaliation for a personal affront. Keeping Shannon’s man in prison when he deserved to be set free called for decisive action.
Her mind was already racing ahead. Avery Dahl wasn’t a common name. How hard could it be to find her? And once Shannon did…
Resolve hardened inside her like steel. She couldn’t free Mike, but she could get revenge for him.
Avery had fucked up Shannon’s life. Now Shannon would fuck up hers.
Chapter Five
The past week had felt more like a month, but the wait was finally over.
Mason waited by his Jeep as Avery locked the front door of her red-brick Victorian house and wheeled her suitcase down the brick walkway toward him. She was dressed in a snug pair of dark jeans that hugged her long legs, and a purple sweater under her leather jacket.
She looked sexy as hell, and he couldn’t wait to start their weekend together. He’d only seen her in passing since Saturday, but that all ended now.
“Good to go?” he asked, opening the trunk.
“Yes. You shaved.”
He ran a hand over his smooth jaw. “Is that bad?” He’d figured he better clean up before meeting her friends and family.
“No, not at all.” She started to lift her suitcase but he took it from her. “I can do it,” she said in an annoyed tone.
“I know you can. But it’s called manners. And since you’re supposedly mine this weekend, my part starts now.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “You don’t need to pretend yet,” she muttered, and started for the passenger side. Mason shut the back and rushed around to open her door for her. She paused and looked up at him. “And this is just manners too?”
What the hell kind of guys was she used to, if him opening doors for her was such a shock? It was just polite, and when she was with him, she should expect it. “Yep.”
She climbed in and he shut the door for her before going around to the driver’s side. “Where’s Ric?” she asked as she put on her seatbelt.
“I already dropped him off at Tate’s. He’s sulking, but he’ll forget all about me once Tate starts throwing the ball for him in the backyard. They’re taking him to Coeur D’Alene with them.”
“I doubt he’ll forget about you. You guys are pretty attached to each other.”
“Yep.” He’d never had any pets growing up, except for the final and best foster home he’d been put in, where they’d had a little dog. When Tate had suggested Mason look into finding a therapy dog specifically trained for veterans with PTSD, he had initially dismissed the idea, embarrassed that his friend thought he needed help.
Turned out, getting Ric was th
e best decision he’d ever made.
The dog was his shadow and best friend. Ric slept beside him every night and woke him when he was in the grips of a nightmare. When anxiety got the better of him, Ric usually sensed it before it reached crisis point and would lean on or nudge him, helping to ground Mason along with the exercises he’d been taught to combat it.
As a result, he was doing way better now than he had in the past, though he would never be the same person he was before the horrific crash and ensuing firefight that would forever haunt him. “What can I say? I love that dog.”
The hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “I know. It’s super cute.”
So she didn’t think he was a total asshole, then. That was good. “So, what kind of music do you like?”
She shrugged. “Anything but metal. You?”
“Country, baby, all the way. That all right with you?”
“Sure.”
He turned on the radio to provide some background noise as he drove. This was the first time they’d been together since dinner at Tate’s a week ago. They had a six-hour drive ahead of them, and given the close quarters they would be in together for the next three days, he didn’t want things to start off on an awkward note. “So did you tell your mom about me?”
“Yes. I told her we met through friends—which we did—and that we’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks. That’ll make our backstory easier, because it’s close to the truth and the timeline works. And while we’re on the topic, we should go over the ground rules.”
Mason fought a smile as he headed for the highway. He’d expected her to be a little uptight about the whole thing, and would have been disappointed if she hadn’t. She’d probably been second-guessing her decision to go with him since she’d made it. “I like rules.” Mostly because he liked bending them until they broke.
“Good.” She rubbed her palms over her thighs, then clasped her hands in her lap. “I’m not comfortable with PDAs, so don’t try any.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “We’ve been together for weeks, you bring me to a weekend-long family wedding, and I’m not allowed to make any public displays of affection?”
