by Zoe Chant
Mine. Ours. Our mate.
Oh, Mason thought, as everything suddenly fell into place. His lion’s response to seeing Charity’s trouble with the bikers. The way he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her for more than a second at a time. The instant, red-hot attraction he’d felt. And the restless way his lion had been acting recently. It had been looking for its mate. Maybe it had known she was nearby, and was just waiting for the right confluence of circumstances to bring them together.
He hadn’t, after all, had any plans this evening when he’d driven off down Route 66, thinking he’d get himself some dinner before heading home. He’d never been down this way before, lying, as it did, right at the edge of the county.
But his mate had been here all along. Maybe she’d been waiting for him, too.
As Charity hurried back, fresh ice in her hands, Mason found himself staring at her once again, barely able to believe his eyes.
She was beautiful. And she was his.
But did she know that?
Of course she doesn’t, Mason thought. She didn’t even know he was a shifter – and she definitely wasn’t one herself. He’d be able to tell if she was.
Watching her as she leaned over him – she didn’t shove the ice into his hands this time – Mason swallowed. Hard.
The soft roundness of her breasts was almost touching his shoulder.
“There,” Charity murmured, seeming not to realize. “The swelling’s mostly gone down, but you’ll have a nasty bruise –”
As she leaned forward, she brushed against him. And in that second, it felt like a bolt of electricity shot through them both. Charity leapt back as if shocked, blue eyes staring down at him.
Mason wasn't sure what to say. What was there to say? He hadn’t been expecting to find his mate this evening, and while Lincoln had been helpful with so many other things, he’d never completely explained what to do when a lion found his mate. He’d certainly never told Mason how to explain these things to a human being, who might not even believe that shifters really existed, despite the growing rumors that were spreading faster and faster these days.
“Sorry about that,” was all Mason could murmur. Charity was still looking at him in a shocked, wide-eyed way. Trying to joke, Mason said, “I guess we must have some real chemistry.”
A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Maybe so,” she replied quietly.
Even as she said it, Mason could see that she was reluctant to admit that anything had really happened. In the end he couldn't say he blamed her. Must’ve been difficult for her out here, dealing with men like Jessup and whatever other hardships life had thrown at her.
“Look,” he said. “This may not be the best timing on my part, but I'll be kicking myself if I don't ask. Would it be possible for me to take you out to dinner sometime? We don't have to go anywhere – I can simply come by here if you like…”
Almost immediately, the slight vulnerability she’d shown after the lightning bolt with their accidental contact disappeared. Blue eyes became more guarded and the subtle change in posture told him she wasn’t about to fall into his arms just like that.
“Is that how it is?” she asked, her voice quiet. “You get rid of the bikers in exchange for a date?”
Mason shook his head, hoping she could see how sincere he was. “No, not at all,” he said. “Though I can see how it looks – and I realize perhaps I should've waited. But… from the second I walked in here and saw you standing up to those assholes, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
Mason swallowed, trying to find the right words to tell her how he felt. It might be a bit too early to spring the whole ‘shifter’ thing on her, not to mention the whole ‘fated mates’ thing.
“If you want to get to know me a bit first, then I understand,” he said at last. “This is a bit sudden, I guess. But you’re worth the wait. I’ll happily back off until you think you know me well enough, if that’s what you’d like.”
Charity blinked, looking a little confused. “You mean it?”
“Of course,” Mason said instantly. He wondered what kind of guys she’d known in the past that such an offer could be so surprising.
Charity looked down at him, seeming to be trapped in indecision for a moment or two.
“She’ll go.”
Charity turned, startled, as a voice sounded behind the bar. Mason looked past her to see a woman wearing the same waitress’s apron as Charity standing hand on hip, a small smile on her lips.
“Rosie –” Charity started to say, but she was cut off as the other woman shook her head curtly.
“Sherri and I can look after the diner tomorrow afternoon,” Rosie said, walking forward. “You know I’ve been wanting to work more hours. And when was the last time you had any time off?”
Charity started to answer, before she was once again cut off.
“No, don’t tell me – I already know. Never, that’s when, Charity Crawford. And I’m quite sure your daddy didn’t leave you this place so you could work your fingers to the bone over it.”
Mason couldn’t help but smile. “She makes a convincing case, to my ear.”
Charity bit her lip. Once again, the pretty blush spread over her face, and he watched as a dimple formed next to her mouth as she started to smile – completely despite herself.
“All right,” she finally said softly. She glanced down at him, her lips quirking a little. “But if we’re going on a date, then it has to be a date. It takes a lot to get me out of the diner on a Saturday afternoon – that’s when we do most of our business.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mason said. She was right, of course – Mason just hoped what he had in mind would impress her. “I can’t promise you something fancy, but maybe I can still show you a good time all the same. Have you ever been horseback riding?”
Mason felt his heart beat a little faster and his lion’s corresponding purr as the dimple in Charity’s cheek deepened, her beautiful smile spreading across her face.
“No, Sheriff Whittaker,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t say that I have.”
Chapter Three
Charity
Tapping her fingers on the kitchen counter, Charity glanced up at the clock for what had to be the hundredth time that day.
Lunch was over, and with the current lack of customers, Charity found she had nothing to focus on except her upcoming date.
Bob, the fry cook who helped out during lunchtimes, had agreed to stay on throughout the afternoon to help Sherri and Rosie with any errant customers who wandered in during the afternoon and over dinner. She hoped after the scene yesterday the Reapers wouldn’t be back, and perhaps they’d see more custom than they had lately.
The four of them were drying dishes and placing them away on the shelves. Charity could see the other two waitresses exchanging glances every now and then, and she knew that her nervousness was showing.
She could feel her cheeks reddening a little, and in her embarrassment she fumbled a little with the mixing bowl she was drying, letting it slip between her fingers and clatter to the floor.
“Damn,” she muttered as she bent to pick it up. She could see Rosie, Sherri and Bob smirking at her, not even bothering to hide their amusement now.
“How the hell did I let you get me into this?” she said, shaking her head as she put the bowl away.
“Come on, Charity, there's no need to be like that,” Rosie said. “I meant what I said – I can't remember the last time you went on a date.”
Charity sighed. “I know. But you really think it's a good idea? I mean –”
She never got to voice whatever objection she might come up with. Bob cut her off, waving a spatula. “No way. I'm with Rosie on this. You can't work twenty-four hours a day. It's just not natural. A girl needs love in her life.”
“And I saw the way you were looking at him,” Sherri broke in, overcoming her usual shyness. “Like you wanted to gobble him up whole!”
Charity grimaced. “Geez,
were all of you just standing around gawping the whole time?” She sighed. “And was I really that obvious?”
Rosie laughed a little, placing a dried plate down on its shelf. “Just a little. But if it makes you feel any better, he was looking at you just the same way. I never would have forgiven myself if I hadn’t made you agree to this date.”
Charity couldn’t help but smile a little. Sherri was right – she’d never had such a powerful, visceral response to any man before in her life. She’d barely had any response to any man – and the very few backseat fumblings she’d endured during her high school years had only seemed to confirm to her that love wasn’t something she needed in her life. Besides, she had the diner to run – she just didn’t have time for romance.
But with Mason… well. Charity was half-afraid that it had all been in her imagination. She thought that Mason had probably had any number of women throwing themselves at him down through the years. She couldn’t be the only one who’d thought they’d had undeniable chemistry.
Charity bit her lip. But Rosie said she had seen it too – and Mason had asked her out…
“I can see you’re already overthinking things,” Rosie scolded, raising an eyebrow.
Charity sighed, nodding. “I know. But it’s not just the date – what if the bikers come back while you’re here? I mean, I know Bob wields a mean spatula, but –”
“Then we’ll deal with it,” Sherri said, determined. “Watching you last night made me think – I’ve been waitressing here for what, two, three months? It’s about time I got over my nerves and started sticking up for myself. I don’t want to be a burden to you. So if those bikers show up tonight, even after Mason showed them what’s what yesterday, you better believe I’ll be ready for them.”
“Listen to her,” Bob said. “I forbid you to worry anymore about any of this. Go. Enjoy your date. Don't think about anything to do with work for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Damn straight.” Rosie put her hands on her hips – and when Rosie did that, Charity knew it was useless trying to argue with her. “You’re going on that date, missy, even if I have to drag you there myself.”
Charity shook her head. “I can see I can't do anything without you guys ganging up on me. So I guess I'm gonna have to accept this.”
Bob rolled his eyes. “Girl, you are the only person I ever had to convince to take some time off. And I didn't even see this guy, but Sherri and Rosie tell me he was fine as hell. What’s the problem?”
Charity hesitated. How could she explain her misgivings? There didn't seem to be any way to put into words how she felt. She’d gotten used to being alone – she never expected she’d react that way to any man. And she sure hadn’t planned on going on a date any time this decade. She wasn't sure she could even remember how to go on a date. And what if after she got all her hopes up, he decided that he didn't like her after all?
But Charity wasn't stupid – she knew she wasn’t exactly homely, and she’d seen the way his eyes lingered on her curves. Maybe Bob, Rosie and Sherri were right after all, and she was just overthinking things.
“Well, I guess I – “
Charity honestly hadn't had any good idea what she was going to say, so perhaps it was just as well that at that moment they heard the door swing open.
“Hello? Anyone here?”
The sound of Mason's deep voice sent a shiver straight down Charity’s spine. She thought perhaps her memory had been exaggerating the effect he had on her, but now that he was back she realized that it’d done nothing of the sort.
Rosie winked at her encouragingly. “Go on.”
Unable to stop her smile, Charity left the kitchen and walked out into the barroom. She hadn’t had much time to make herself look presentable in between the lunchtime rush and when Mason said he’d come to pick her up – she’d just put on a hint of makeup and brushed her hair. Mason had said that they were going horseback riding, so she was wearing jeans and an old shirt – just her everyday wear. He’d seemed to like her well enough in it last night.
And the way he was looking at her now – well, Charity had to assume that he liked her just as much in it today.
“Wow,” he breathed. “You look…”
Charity felt herself turning red. She had never considered herself susceptible to flattery – but, well, she supposed it depended on who was doing the flattering.
And speaking of, he didn’t look half bad himself. She was surprised to see that the bruise on his cheekbone wasn't nearly as bad as she’d thought it would be – only a little more than a faint mark where Jessup had punched him. And he was still just as good-looking as she remembered – all chiseled features and broad shoulders, with an air of undeniable masculinity that set her heart to racing.
“Your face is looking all right today,” Charity said. “The swelling’s gone down a lot.”
Mason nodded, touching his cheekbone ruefully. “Yeah,” he said. “It got me a few strange looks around the office this morning, but I guess everything's okay.”
“Did anyone ask how you got it?” Charity asked.
Mason shook his head. “No, thankfully,” he said. “Probably just as well – I don't want to have to explain. Half the deputies seem to be real cozy with the bikers, and the other half are scared to death. I'll deal with them, but it’ll have to be my way, on my time.”
Charity nodded. She already knew the truth of what Mason said. It didn't surprise her that he already seemed to have it figured out. And for some reason, she trusted him when he said he’d sort it out.
She was used to evasive language from the deputies around here – things would get done at some mysterious point in the future, which was usually a not-so-secret code for ‘never’. But with Mason… she believed him. Charity couldn’t explain why – only that, in her heart, she did.
“Well,” Mason said. “I guess we better get going while we’ve still got daylight. I promised you a proper date, after all.”
He held out his hand, smiling. Charity licked her lips. It was a man’s hand, strong and rough. When she reached out to take it, she felt the thrill of electricity course through her. She’d felt it before, when she’d been putting the ice on his face, and had accidentally brushed against him.
Their chemistry was a tangible thing, almost – she could virtually see it crackling in the air between them. Charity had never felt anything like this before. But she couldn’t exactly say she wasn’t enjoying it.
“Are we driving to your place?” she asked, as she followed him through the door. “Do you have a ranch out here?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” Mason answered. “But there's no need to drive out there right now.”
Stepping out into the late afternoon sunlight, Charity saw what he meant: tied to a railing by the diner’s front porch were two horses. Charity didn't know a lot about horses, but even she could tell that these were prime specimens: their coats shone like satin in the sunlight, and they looked at her with large, brown, gentle eyes.
“Wow,” Charity breathed. When she’d been younger, she’d sometimes seen girls from her school riding horses during their free time, but she’d just never had the chance. Her family had been so focused on running the diner that she’d never been able to.
She had sometimes dreamed what it must be like: not only to have her own horse, but to have the free time to ride it. But she’d known her father needed help to keep the diner running, and in any case it was useless to dream about things that would never happen. She had never even imagined she’d be standing here with a man like Mason, about to go on her own guided tour on horseback.
Mason grinned. “Beauties, aren’t they? They’re American Saddles – I've had these ones since they were foals, and trained them myself. Since you said you’re a beginner, I chose this one especially for you.”
Charity couldn't stop a wide grin of delight spreading across her face as Mason untied the closest horse – the most elegant creature Charity had ever seen, with a rich da
rk brown coat.
“This is Abby,” he said. “She's a good, gentle girl – she’ll take good care of you. Just give her a pat on the nose, nice and soft.”
Charity could hear the obvious affection in Mason's voice. She lifted her hand and Abby pushed her surprisingly soft, velvety nose into her palm.
“She's beautiful,” Charity breathed, looking into Abby’s deep brown eyes.
“She sure is,” Mason said, his voice full of pride. “She’s a nice, smooth ride, and plenty of stamina too – but don't get me started on this topic or we’ll never get going. I could talk all day about these girls.”
Charity felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Should I be jealous?” she asked mischievously.
Mason laughed from where he’d gone to fetch the other horse. “I don't think there's any need for that. There’s no gal in the world you’d need to feel jealous of.”
Charity giggled a little. She couldn't remember the last time she’d felt so light – like she didn't have a care in the world. She felt as if the weight had been lifted off her shoulders, like she was taking the first step on some grand adventure that would take her far away from the drudgery and work of normal life.
Of course, she knew that eventually she would have to come back – the diner wouldn't run itself, and she knew that in all likelihood the bikers would be back before long. But for the moment, she decided, she would take Bob’s advice, and try to live a little.
“You know how to get up in the saddle?” Mason asked.
Charity shook her head. “No. When I said I was a beginner, I really meant it. I’ve honestly never sat on a horse before.”
“Well, let me help you up then,” Mason said.
Before Charity had a chance to say anything more, Mason had come around to stand behind her, his hand resting gently on the side of her left thigh. Charity swallowed. Again there was that same small current of electricity that seemed to run from him and straight into her.
“Just lift your foot up, and slide it into the stirrup there,” Mason said.
