by Lynn Hagen
“Have you lived here all your life?” Ford set his menu down, but he still had a guarded look in his green eyes.
“My whole life.” Mercy nodded. His past was something he didn’t want to discuss. Not his poor upbringing, his dying mother, his abusive ex, or the fact that he liked the ranch but didn’t want to live on it.
Ford grinned, and Mercy’s heart skipped a beat. “Great, then maybe you can show me around town sometime.”
“Be a tour guide?” Mercy chuckled. “I’d love to.”
Wait. No he wouldn’t. Why on earth had he said that? The only tour Mercy wanted to give Ford was of his bedroom.
Ugh, stop!
Mercy looked up when the waiter approached. His insides froze. The lust he’d felt vanished as he stared into Lloyd’s face. “What’re you doing here? I thought you’d left town.”
Fear crept up Mercy’s spine. Lloyd’s hands, curled around the order pad and pencil, were a reminder of Mercy’s life with the jackass. How Lloyd had knocked him around, punched him, and choked the crap out of him a few times.
“Family needed my help.” Lloyd looked between Mercy and Ford. “So I came back.”
Mercy highly doubted Lloyd’s family would ask for his help. They couldn’t stand him and had been relieved when he’d taken off. Mercy’s ex was an all-around jerk who had treated everyone like crap. Too bad Mercy hadn’t known that before he’d started dating the guy and moved in with him.
“What’ll you guys have?” Lloyd was studying Ford a little too closely, as if measuring him up. The expression was barely there, but after living with Lloyd, Mercy knew disdain when he saw it.
“Nothing.” Mercy got up and skirted around the bastard. Great, now his favorite place to eat was off-limits. There was no way Mercy was coming back while Lloyd worked there.
“Sit down and stop acting like that,” Lloyd said. “You always were a drama queen.”
If by “drama” Lloyd meant Mercy begging his boyfriend to stop hitting him.
Anger rolled inside Mercy, but he refused to show it to the jerk. He refused to show any emotions and give Lloyd the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to him.
“Mercy says he wants to leave.” Ford stood, towering over Lloyd. “Step aside.”
A flush crept over Mercy’s cheeks, and he felt his ears burning. His stomach dropped at the show of dominance. This was too much. Mercy fled the diner and raced onto the street. Now Ford would have a suspicion that something bad had happened between Mercy and Lloyd. He would probably want to know what it was, and Mercy never wanted to talk about that part of his life.
Ever.
Damn Lloyd for coming back to town.
“Wait up,” Ford shouted as Mercy moved swiftly down the street, trying his best to escape the situation. But Mercy knew no matter how far he ran he would never escape his past.
Chapter Two
“Why?” Mercy spun and glared at Ford. “So you can play hero twice in one day?”
Ford shook his head. “I’m no hero, Mercy.”
Far from it. Ford wasn’t even a real ranch hand. He’d been hired by the Ultionem to make sure the hellhound infestation was truly gone from Fever’s Edge and to also track down a rogue vampire who’d been attacking humans, more specifically the family that Ford had been trying to save. Vladimir had attacked them, and Ford had nearly gotten them killed.
Ford didn’t want to think of those memories. He had done his best to keep them in the back of his mind, and that was where they would stay.
He had a job to do, even though Ford knew he was nothing more than paid muscle. His orders were to kill any hellhounds he might see there, as well as Vladimir. The last time Vladimir had been seen, he’d been heading toward this town, hence Ford’s assignment in Fever’s Edge. It was on the down low, so he’d gotten the only job available to him. Working on a ranch.
Already it sucked, but it wasn’t as though it was a permanent job. He just hadn’t expected to find his mate in this Podunk town.
“If that diner isn’t to your liking, we can go there.” Ford waved at the restaurant up ahead. Cresting Moon. “I’m starving and need a bite to eat.”
He had no clue what was going on between Mercy and that waiter, but Ford wanted to go back to the diner and choke the shit out of the stranger for talking to Mercy that way.
“We have an hour to kill,” he reminded his mate.
What struck Ford as odd was the fact that Lincoln was a Bengal tiger shifter. The foreman, Brett, had said that Mercy was Lincoln’s stepbrother, had been adopted, and Mercy was human.
How had that happened? Ford didn’t know too many shifter females that would adopt a human. Whatever the reason, he was glad he’d found Mercy.
Although finding his mate complicated Ford’s job.
Mercy bit his bottom lip and looked toward the diner behind Ford. “Just as long as we don’t talk about what just happened.”
“What just happened?” Ford grinned and guided Mercy to the open-air restaurant. “I say we stuff our faces with good food and forget the diner was unfit for us to eat in.”
“No it wasn’t.” Mercy looked up at him. Was his mate that thickheaded?
“Can you smell that?” Ford rubbed his stomach. “Greasy burgers. I’m already in love with this joint.”
Mercy gave him a tentative smile. “It does have good food, although it’s a bit pricier than Bent Spoon.”
“I told you this was my treat.” After the incident at the diner, Ford felt territorial. He glided his hand down Mercy’s back as they walked inside, only to have his mate jerk away from his touch.
If Mercy lived with shifters, then he knew about them and more than likely knew about mates. Ford wasn’t sure he wanted to reveal what they were to each other. Not yet. Maybe not ever. That would mean staying stuck in this town, of giving up his work with the Ultionem. That was all Ford had ever known. Chasing down criminals wanted by the leaders of the nonhuman world had also garnered him a lot of enemies.
Enemies he didn’t want coming after him if he stayed in one place for too long.
“Do you want seating inside or outside?” the guy behind the bar hollered as he poured a glass of beer from the tap.
Ford looked down at Mercy. God, he was fucking handsome. Dark hair and pretty blue eyes, slim, compact. “Your choice.”
Mercy looked toward the door. “Inside.”
He didn’t like the fact that his mate seemed scared. Ford’s bear snarled at the thought of anyone putting fear into the human. He wanted to probe, to find out what the scene in the diner had been all about, but he was wise enough to keep his trap shut.
He didn’t want to ruin their lunch.
Once they were seated and their drink orders taken, Ford crossed his arms on the table. “So, why all the new hires today? I’m being totally nosy, by the way.”
Ford wanted to find out what was going on with the ranch. Hellhounds? Vampires? Why had Brett hired three new workers in one day? Ford knew crap about ranching, but that seemed odd to him.
“It’s complicated,” Mercy said. “Besides, I don’t know you, so I’m not going to gossip about the ranch.”
“Fair enough.” Ford smiled when the waiter brought their drinks and they ordered their food.
When the waiter walked away, Mercy narrowed his eyes. “Just tell me you’re not crazy.”
The question threw Ford. “The last time I checked I was pretty stable. Though I do have a tendency to laugh at the dumbest jokes, and occasionally I can be a real bear.”
Pun completely intended.
Mercy pursed his lips and looked Ford over. The innocent appraisal had Ford half-hard. “Jason was a really nice guy before he turned psycho. I guess only time will tell with you.”
“Who’s Jason?” Was that the guy from the diner? Ford had a laptop tucked under the driver’s seat of his truck. The Ultionem had given him great access to data most weren’t privy to. He had a plethora of information on nonhumans so he could do his job.
This wasn’t the first time they’d hired him to track someone down. Ford was damn good at what he did, and so far hadn’t failed a mission. If Vladimir was anywhere near Fever’s Edge, Ford would find him.
“Jason was an unstable ranch worker,” Mercy said, interrupting Ford’s thoughts.
Now Ford was downright curious. One way or another, he’d get the lowdown on the ranch and what had happened. Until then, he couldn’t stop ogling his mate. Mercy was freaking gorgeous, and Ford’s bear kept snarling for him to get closer.
“I should stop at the grocery store,” Mercy said right before the waiter brought them their food. They thanked the guy before Mercy added, “There’s a couple sales I want to take advantage of.”
After they finished their meal, they walked toward Ford’s truck. He noticed how Mercy looked at the building across from where he’d parked. It had a big For Lease sign in the window.
“Thinking about renting that out?” Ford smiled.
Mercy’s hair was just long enough that he was able to tuck it behind his ear. Ford was dying to touch the shell of his mate’s ear, to tug gently on the strands as he kissed the guy. “Can I tell you something without you repeating it to anyone?”
Ford nodded.
Mercy bit his bottom lip. “My dream is to open my own bakery. Sounds silly, right? I have a good job on my brother’s ranch. Why should I want to leave that? Besides, I’m pretty sure it takes a lot of money to start your own business, which I don’t have.”
Ford asked an obvious question. “Can you bake?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Mercy sighed. “We need to get to the grocery store then check on my tires.”
“I’ll call the mechanic,” Ford offered. “No sense in buying food that might spoil if the tires aren’t ready.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Mercy kept staring at the empty building with longing in his eyes.
“Is there another bakery in town?”
“There’s a cupcake shop a few blocks over,” Mercy said. “They taste good, but Melinda’s options are limited. I would love to bake cinnamon rolls, cakes, eclairs, and everything else that makes a person’s mouth water.”
Ford was getting a sweet tooth just thinking about what Mercy was describing. “You should serve coffee, too. People love a cup of coffee with a sweet treat in the morning.”
Mercy’s sexy blue eyes lit up as he smiled. “I hadn’t thought of that. I would also decorate the shop in pretty pastel colors. Maybe add a few tables, and…” Mercy’s shoulders sagged, and his smile faded. “It’s a nice dream, but I’m a realist.”
“Seems like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
Again, Mercy shrugged. “I have a ton of catalogs at home. I’ve even made a dream list of the things I would want in my shop. I know it would be expensive to start because I’ve already priced everything out.” He gave Ford a wobbly smile. “I have a lot of time on my hands.”
Ford didn’t indulge Mercy any further. He had his own job to do before he left town. He was also a realist and wasn’t sure he should even tell Mercy that they were mates. Ford didn’t plan on sticking around. That wasn’t his life. This town wasn’t his future.
He was nothing more than hired muscle who went wherever the job took him. It had been over a century since Ford had made somewhere his home, and that had ended disastrously, had nearly cost him his life.
Times had changed, but people hadn’t.
Mercy wasn’t the only one with dreams, but setting down roots wasn’t in the cards for Ford. He’d made too many enemies, had pissed off a lot of people along the way. He didn’t need them tracking him down to this Podunk town, and he definitely didn’t need Mercy caught in the crosshairs.
* * * *
With his running shorts on and the morning still dark, Ford took off down the driveway and headed down the road. He hadn’t known any shifters who enjoyed running, not while in their human form, but it helped him clear his head, and he loved the adrenaline that pumped through him.
He couldn’t take as long as he wanted to. Ranch workers got up at the crack of dawn to start their day, and soon the men he shared the bunkhouse with would be up and moving around.
But this was Ford’s quiet time, a moment to himself that he thoroughly enjoyed. It was almost like therapy to him and cleared away a lot of the haunting memories he tried desperately to forget.
He normally liked to run while listening to music, but Ford was on a job, and he needed to keep an eye on his surroundings. He was also on a road, and the last thing he needed was to get hit because he hadn’t heard the approaching vehicle or the driver wasn’t paying attention.
He jogged a mile down the road, stopped, stretched his arms over his head, and shook out his legs before turning to make the journey back. That was when he felt it.
Eyes on him. Malevolence in the air that he could almost feel seeping into his body.
Ford lifted his head and sniffed, but all he smelled was the country air. And cow manure. That wasn’t unusual since he was close to a farm and he saw fenced-in cows in the pasture.
He took a moment to look around, straining to hear anything that might indicate someone close by, someone trying to sneak up on him. Aside from the animals and the farmhouse a quarter of a mile down a driveway, Ford didn’t see anything.
Still, he didn’t dismiss the feeling. He stayed acutely aware as he made his way back to the ranch, his head on a swivel. When he reached the front yard, the smell of freshly baked biscuits reached him.
Ford’s stomach grumbled, and he was dying to taste Mercy’s baking. He was also dying to taste Mercy. He’d thought about his mate all night, trying to figure out what he was going to do about him, and Ford hadn’t come up with an answer.
The front door opened, and Mercy walked out with a cup of coffee in his hand. His dark hair was wet, and he had on snug-fitting jeans and a white T-shirt.
Fuck. He looked good as hell. Ford wanted nothing more than to walk up those steps and sweep Mercy into his arms.
Then Mercy spotted him standing by the big oak tree, his hands on his hips, sweat pouring off him.
Mercy studied him for a second before he graced Ford with a smile. “Early morning jogger.”
Ford nodded. “Have to stay in shape.”
He was a big fella, six feet four inches of pure muscle. Ford didn’t have to exercise, not like humans did. He was naturally large, being a bear shifter, and his lifestyle kept him in shape.
“Smells like you’ve been baking.” Ford moved closer, wiping the sweat from his face with the bottom of his shirt. “Biscuits, right?”
Mercy beamed. “Would you like one?”
Before Ford could answer, Mercy set his cup on a table between two chairs and went inside. He returned with another cup and a small plate. “I remembered what you said about coffee with your treat.”
He looked proud of himself, which only made Ford want him even more. “Thanks.”
Ford took a seat on the steps and bit into the biscuit. His mouth had an orgasm at the soft, buttery taste. He even tasted a hint of honey inside.
“Well?” Mercy sat next to him. “What do you think?”
“I’m wondering how you stay so skinny when you can cook like this.” Ford devoured the biscuit, taking sips of coffee in between bites. “Tell me you have more to offer.”
Mercy took Ford’s plate and went inside. When he returned, he had three biscuits this time. “I’m glad you’re enjoying them.”
The biscuits were good, but Ford was enjoying Mercy’s company even more. The guy smelled like lilac soap and country-morning air.
“I stick around you and I might gain a few extra pounds.” Ford winked. “Now I want to taste your cinnamon rolls.”
A blush crept over Mercy’s face and ears. The embarrassment had Ford grinning. “How about I make some tomorrow morning?”
“That sounds perfect.” Ford licked his fingers one at a time, keeping eye contact with Mercy. “Thanks fo
r feeding me.”
Ford knew it was time to go when he heard other men behind him. The day was starting, but damn if he didn’t want to sit on this step for a little while longer.
“You’re welcome. I have to go cook breakfast.” Mercy got up and nearly stumbled down the steps. Ford caught him and righted his mate. He’d never felt anything more perfect in his arms.
“Careful.”
Mercy hurried inside, Ford watching his cute little ass sway. His mate returned a second later. “I forgot the plate and cup.”
Ford stood. Even though he stood two steps below the porch, he was still taller than Mercy. “Here you go.”
Mercy took them, spun, and ran right into the screen door. He looked back at Ford and frowned before he rushed inside the house.
Ford chuckled. The guy was freaking adorable. Too bad they couldn’t have talked longer. His mate had acted reserved yesterday at lunch and on the ride home. It seemed this morning he was more amiable.
Maybe Mercy was the type of guy who needed to warm up to someone before befriending them. Ford still wasn’t sure what he was going to do as far as Mercy went, but the guy had just brightened his morning.
* * * *
“It’s just jogging.” Mercy paced his room in his running shorts, unsure if he should invite himself to Ford’s morning run. Not that Mercy was out of shape, but it couldn’t hurt to get some cardio work in before his day started.
That was what he kept telling himself as he stepped onto the porch. The freaking sun hadn’t even risen yet, and here he was, looking for someone he’d told himself to stay away from.
Yesterday, after sitting on the steps with Ford, Mercy had found excuses to go outside just so he could watch the man work. It had been forever since he’d done gardening, but the patch of dirt in front of the house was overturned and ready for planting. Mercy had spent a good hour working the patch, just so he could watch Ford, without a shirt on, working on the tractor.
Mercy just needed to go into town later and buy some flowers to plant so Lincoln wouldn’t wonder why there was a dirt patch by the porch.
