Sweet Mercy

by Lynn Hagen

  “This is stupid.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Ford had been nothing but kind to him, and why was Mercy reading so much into that?

  He even protected you from Lloyd. Mercy shoved that thought away. The last person he wanted to think about was his ex-boyfriend. It had been three years since Mercy had fled to his brother’s ranch.

  So why was he too afraid to dip his toes back into the dating scene? Why did that idea send icicles down his spine? Ford was twice the size of Lloyd and could inflict a lot more damage if he got mad and took it out on Mercy.

  “Not every man is like that,” he said to himself. Lincoln, his brother, had gotten mad plenty of times and never raised a hand to Mercy.

  “You just need to dive back in.” Mercy paced the porch, wondering why he was even trying to talk himself into this. Ford was a ranch worker, a nice guy, and loved Mercy’s cooking.

  It wasn’t as if they were falling in love. Hell, they weren’t even dating. They’d shared a few conversations. That was all.

  “Stop putting so much pressure on yourself, you ninny.” Friends. That was all he and Ford were becoming. Nothing more. Just friends. Something Mercy sorely lacked.

  Mercy stilled when he saw Ford walking toward the yard. The guy hadn’t noticed him yet, which gave Mercy an opportunity to check him out as he walked beneath the oak tree.

  God, he was gorgeous. Blond hair, muscled body, great legs in those shorts. His arms were the size of tree trunks. Mercy’s legs were twigs in his shorts compared to Ford’s.

  Mercy cleared his throat. Ford’s head shot up, and he narrowed his eyes before he saw Mercy standing there.

  “What’re you doing out here so early?” Ford asked, his features visibly relaxing.

  Mercy waved a hand at his scrawny body. “I thought I would go running with you. If that’s okay. I mean, I didn’t want to just invite myself, but maybe you want company?”

  He was screwing this up, sounding like a complete idiot. He might as well have opened his mouth and inserted his foot. Mercy could just imagine what Ford thought of him in that moment.

  “You know what? Never mind. It was a dumb idea.” Mercy started toward the door.

  “Wait.” Ford walked over to him and rested a foot on the bottom step, his forearm on the wooden railing. “I wouldn’t mind company. But I go a mile one way. Can you keep up with that?”

  A mile? Christ. Mercy wasn’t sure he could make it down the driveway without collapsing, but he didn’t want to seem like a wuss now that he’d invited himself along. “Um, sure.”

  Ford gave a low, soft chuckle. “I’ll take it easy on you. We can do half a mile.”

  That still sounded too damn far, but Mercy walked down the steps anyway. “Afterward I’ll make some cinnamon rolls.”

  “You’re starting to spoil me.” Ford winked, turned, and started to jog. Mercy hurried to catch up.

  He was out of breath by the time they made it to the road. Crap. He just might have bitten off more than he could chew in an effort to get closer to Ford.

  Something he shouldn’t even be doing in the first place.

  Chapter Three

  “Ow! Ow! Ow!”

  “Will you hold still?” Ford was on his knees trying to rub the cramp from Mercy’s leg. His mate hadn’t made it a tenth of a mile before his muscles locked up on him. “When was the last time you ran?”

  “Does running around the house to get things done count?”

  Ford’s hands faltered as he looked up at Mercy. He wasn’t sure if the guy was joking or being serious. He had to be kidding, right? “You’ve never jogged before?”

  “I didn’t think it would be this hard.” Mercy hissed as his leg jerked. “It’s no use,” he whimpered. “Just go on without me. Save yourself.”

  Ford rolled his eyes as he continued to rub the tight muscle on Mercy’s calf. “It’s a cramp, not a gunshot wound during an apocalypse.”

  “You’re rubbing my leg like you’re trying to get a fire started. That hurts.”

  If Ford had known his mate had zero stamina when it came to exercise he would’ve opted to sit on the steps to enjoy Mercy’s cooking instead. “Do you think you can walk back to the house?”

  Ford pushed to his feet and wiped at his brow. Already the day was heating up and the sun still hadn’t risen yet. He wasn’t looking forward to working today. Not that he was a stranger to hard work, but he would rather do it indoors.

  He also needed to go back to town to find out if any more hellhounds were lingering about. Too bad no other businesses had been hiring. Being stuck on a ranch wasn’t conducive to his investigation.

  And Ford had been specifically instructed to blend in. If a hellhound was still in Fever’s Edge and knew why Ford was there, shit could get ugly.

  He also didn’t want Vladimir to know he was in town. The vampire would recognize him right away, and Ford wanted to confront the guy on his own terms, not when innocents were around.

  You couldn’t get more low profile than a ranch worker, but if another opportunity opened up in town, Ford would take it.

  That got him thinking about Mercy’s bakery. If Ford fronted him the start-up money, that would give him an excuse to be there. Of course, Ford would never ask for his mate to pay him back. Helping Mercy to achieve his goal would be payment enough, even if Ford decided not to stick around.

  “I think I can walk on it.” Mercy put weight on his leg and winced. “We’ll have to walk slowly.”

  This would be the perfect opportunity for them to have a conversation about his bakery. Ford slid his arm around Mercy’s waist. “Just for balance,” he said when Mercy tried to pull away. “We don’t want you falling down and causing any more injuries.”

  That was the truth, but Ford also loved holding on to his mate. He loved having Mercy in his arms, even if it was only to help him walk. “I was thinking about your bakery.”

  “It’s a silly pipe dream.” Mercy limped along. “How far are we from the house?”

  Ford snorted. “Not even six hundred feet. I can see the house from here.”

  Mercy slapped Ford on this stomach. “Stop making me sound like a total loser.”

  Ford liked the easy banter between them, but he still felt as if Mercy was hiding something, holding back in some way. There was mistrust in his blue eyes, even when he smiled.

  “Did you stretch before you left the house?”

  “Uh, no.” Mercy’s arm tightened on Ford. “That might have been a good idea. I wish I’d thought of that before you tried to whip me into shape. I’ll do that before we run tomorrow morning.”

  A burp of laughter escaped Ford. “You seriously want to run again? I thought you’d give up the idea after this.”

  “I’m not a quitter,” Mercy huffed. “I learn from my mistakes and try harder the next time. My twigs will just have to get used to running.”

  Ford liked Mercy’s determination, though he wasn’t sure his mate would fare any better tomorrow. Not only was Mercy limping but he seemed out of breath.

  “Back to your bakery.”

  “Let it go.” Mercy tried to pull away again, but Ford was having none of that. Not when Mercy looked as though he was barely staying upright. “I should have never told you about that. Some dreams are never meant to be.”

  “What if I told you I could help you realize that dream?”

  Mercy stopped, forcing Ford to stop, too. He eyed Ford with an arched brow. “What’re you talking about?”

  “You need the money, and I love interior restoration. I could be a silent partner, help you get the bakery up and running. No strings attached.”

  Mercy’s dark brows dipped, and if anything, he looked even more distrustful. “But you don’t even know me. Why would you do that for a complete stranger?”

  Because you’re my mate and I would do anything to make you happy. The truth jumped out at Ford. If he didn’t stick around, the least he could do was ensure Mercy was happy with his life before he took off. “We�
�re not strangers,” he said. “I’ve tasted your biscuits. That makes us friends.”

  Mercy chuckled. “You’re a strange man, Ford—” He frowned. “What’s your last name? See, I don’t even know your last name and you’re offering to loan me the money to start my own business.”

  “Bowers,” Ford said.

  “Well, Mr. Bowers, let me think about your offer.” Mercy started walking again. “It’s not something I would take lightly. I need time to mull it over.”

  “Whatever you decide, you know where to find me.” Ford felt that prickly feeling again, as if someone were watching him. Unease settled over him as he looked around.

  “What?” Mercy asked.

  All he heard were crickets and an owl hooting off in the distance. A light breeze rustled the grass, and the nearby tree branches creaked. “Nothing.”

  “Should I use hot or cold for my leg?” Mercy grunted as they turned into the driveway, but Ford still couldn’t shake the feeling that eyes were on him.

  “Heat until the pain improves then switch to a cold compress. If the pain doesn’t go away, you can use some kind of topical analgesic cream.”

  “Some what?”

  “Something like Bengay.”

  “No way,” Mercy protested. “I’m not running around smelling like an old man.”

  “You won’t be running anywhere with that cramp,” Ford teased as they neared the yard. “Are you still going to make those cinnamon rolls, or should I get a rain check from you?”

  “Typical guy,” Mercy snorted. “I’m injured, and all you can think about is food.”

  Ford had to force his words down. He’d started to tell Mercy that he was a bear shifter and loved sweets. That was another reason he wanted to help his mate with his bakery. Ford would be in heaven in the shop.

  He was also a typical guy when it came to thinking about sex. Seeing Mercy in those tiny shorts was playing havoc with Ford’s body. He couldn’t stop thinking about sliding them down Mercy’s legs and bending him over.

  “Fine.” Ford made himself sound put out. “I guess I’ll have to wait on them.”

  They reached the steps, and Mercy sat. Ford sat next to him. He hated to remove his arm from around the guy. If he could have, Ford would’ve pulled Mercy onto his lap.

  “Sorry about your workout,” Mercy said as he rubbed at his calf. “I didn’t mean to make you miss it.”

  “No worries. I jog more to clear my mind than for the actual benefits.” He stood, hating that he’d told his mate that. It was too damn easy talking with Mercy. “Let me help you inside. We should get some heat on your leg.”

  And some ice on my dick.

  Mercy held up his hand, and Ford pulled his mate to his feet. He helped him up the steps and into the house. Ford looked around. It looked homey inside, with a large fireplace against one wall and rustic furniture.

  They walked into the kitchen, and Mercy sat at the country-style table. “All I have is a hot water bottle to use for heat,” Mercy said.

  “Where is it?” Ford looked around. The kitchen was spacious, with a large island in the middle. Above the island, pots and pans hung from a rack, which made Ford wonder how Mercy reached them.

  “In the junk drawer.” Mercy pointed toward the fridge.

  Ford pulled three drawers open before he found the right one. Then he took the teakettle to the sink and filled it. While he waited for the water to heat, he took a seat at the table. “Let me see your leg.”

  Mercy winced as he lifted it, and Ford settled it on his thigh. He ran his fingers over Mercy’s calf, massaging it but also enjoying the fact that he was touching him again.

  “It’s already starting to ease.” Mercy’s voice had grown soft and sweet. “I might not have to smell like an old man.”

  “It wouldn’t bother me if you did.” Ford glided his fingers along Mercy’s silky skin. The guy barely had any leg hair. He feared his hands might be too rough, but Mercy didn’t complain.

  Mercy jumped out of his chair when a guy with disheveled brownish-red hair and green eyes walked into the kitchen. The stranger looked between them before smiling. “Go ahead with your bad ass, Mercy.”

  “It’s not what you think,” Mercy quickly said. He waved a hand at Ford, nearly knocking Ford in the eye. “This is one of the new ranch workers, Ford Bowers. Ford, this is Red. He’s my brother’s boyfriend and resident computer entry guy.”

  Ford nodded.

  “Crap, I’m talking too much.” Mercy held the back of his chair. “I think my biscuits are done.”

  Ford arched a brow. “You’re not baking any biscuits.”

  Red chuckled. “Was hoping some coffee was ready, but I’ll come back.” He winked before he walked out of the kitchen.

  “Relax,” Ford said. “He’s gone.”

  Mercy’s hand fluttered to his throat. “I need to get breakfast started, and I’m sure you have to get ready for work.”

  Ford knew when he was being dismissed. He didn’t like it but didn’t argue. “Tomorrow morning?”

  He wanted to get outside and do a little investigating. Ford was dead certain someone was watching him, and he wanted to find out who it was and why.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Mercy hobbled to the counter, and Ford wanted to offer his assistance but walked out. He couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. He was there to do a job, hopefully help Mercy start his bakery business, and then blow this town.

  Ford didn’t need an entanglement.

  * * * *

  Mercy cursed when Ford left. He shouldn’t have been so rude, but…damn it. The more time he spent around the muscled guy, the more charmed Mercy became with him.

  It wasn’t as if Mercy wanted to stay stuck in the past. Of course he wanted to forget what Lloyd had done to him and to enjoy his life. But every time he thought of moving on, thought that he could be a normal guy, his fears gripped him and made him take a step back instead of forward.

  The one thought that gave him hope was the fact that he wasn’t a complete wreck like he had been when he first arrived at the ranch. Back then Mercy had been afraid of his own shadow. He hadn’t gone near any of the workers, and even Lincoln’s large size intimidated him.

  Mercy had hid in the house for an entire year, and if it hadn’t been for Lincoln’s patience and love, Mercy wasn’t sure he would have even gotten this far in his recovery.

  “Is the coast clear?” Red walked back into the kitchen and headed for the coffeepot.

  “Ford was just helping me after I got a charley horse.” Mercy limped to the fridge and pulled out the pack of bacon he’d put in there the night before. He cut the teakettle off, deciding to put heat to his leg later.

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me.” Red turned and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Your personal life is your own. He does seem like a nice guy.”

  Mercy set the pack of bacon on the counter and bit his lip. He was dying to talk to someone about the turmoil inside of him. Mercy leaned on Lincoln for a lot of things, but he was still embarrassed that his brother had had to rescue him from an abusive ex and didn’t want to tell him that he might be falling for someone.

  Lincoln was sort of thickheaded when it came to matters of the heart. Besides, his brother was also overprotective, and Mercy didn’t want to stir up any trouble between the two.

  “Talk to me,” Red said. “I see those wheels in your head turning.”

  “Is Lincoln awake?”

  “Still knocked out.” Red grabbed a mug from the cupboard. “What’s on your mind?”

  Mercy wrung his hands in front of him, trying to put his thoughts into words. “Has my brother ever told you about my past?”

  Red interrupted the flow of coffee to pour himself a cup. Mercy didn’t point out that what he’d poured would be too strong.

  “No.” Red shook his head. “The only thing he said was that your story was yours to tell.”

  And that was why Mercy loved
Lincoln so much. “Well, to put it mildly, I haven’t been so lucky with men.”

  Red took a sip and sighed. “You’re catching feelings for Ford, and that scares you?”

  “Stop being so damn smart,” Mercy said.

  “Can’t help it.”

  “Anyway, yes. I really like Ford, but I’m not sure I’m ready for anything. Not after what I’ve been through. I find it hard to trust men now.”

  Mercy really did want to jump in feet first, throwing caution to the wind. But having been someone’s punching bag for a year, it wasn’t that easy.

  Worse, Lloyd was back in town, drudging up old fears and anxieties. If his reaction to seeing Lloyd at the diner was anything to go by, clearly Mercy still had some deep-seated issues.

  Like you didn’t already know that.

  “I’m the last person to give relationship advice since Lincoln’s my first boyfriend,” Red said. “Well, my mate, but you know what I mean. But I can tell you one thing. I’m glad I took that leap. I haven’t regretted one day with him…or night.”

  Mercy held up his hand. “Don’t you dare give me any details.”

  Red wiggled his brows. “You’re no fun.”

  Mercy opened the bacon and put it in the frying pan. “I just don’t know what to do.”

  Red walked up behind him. “Just follow your heart. I’m sure Ford is a nice guy. If he’s not, we’ll let Lincoln eat him.”

  Mercy chuckled.

  “I would pay good money to see a tiger eat a bear,” Red said.

  Mercy froze. He slowly turned and looked at Red. “Ford’s a bear?”

  “You didn’t know that?” Red took another sip of his coffee. “After what happened with Jason and Adam, Lincoln only wants shifters on the ranch. He doesn’t want any humans seeing things they shouldn’t see.”

  Jason had been a ranch worker who had been enamored with Lincoln and hadn’t taken it well when he found out that Lincoln was interested in Red. In fact, he’d wanted to kill Red.

  Adam had been the foreman before Brett. He’d had a grudge against Lincoln for something that hadn’t been Lincoln’s fault. A horse had kicked Adam in the jaw, making him mumble when he talked. A few broken jaws before that had made it nearly impossible to understand the guy.