by A. M. Rose
The morning crawled slowly into early afternoon, and as Mason munched on his second bear claw, Sage lit the barbecue and started preparing their lunch. Soon the fire was roaring happily, and the meat was sizzling on the grill. Sage did his domestic magic thing that still baffled Mason, spelling the smoke to rise up into the air in a neat, straight line, away from their eyes, hair and clothes. Nobody left a Sage Atwood barbecue red-eyed and smelling like smoked ham.
Ben got back just after noon, covered in stuff that smelled so bad neither of them dared to ask what it was. He went to kiss Sage but was quickly stopped with a little magic wall Sage built between them as he screamed, “Go shower!” over and over again.
Mason found the whole thing hilarious and was regretting not having his phone on hand to get the scene on video.
“It’s not nice to laugh at your friends,” he heard a raspy voice coming from behind him, and a huge smile bloomed on his face as he turned around.
“Drew!” He threw himself at the man, laughing when Drew picked him up and kissed him as if they hadn’t seen each other in ages.
“Missed you,” Drew said, and Mason ran his fingers through his thick hair.
“Missed you too.” He smacked a kiss to his lips, losing himself in the taste of him for a moment, forgetting that they weren’t alone.
“Why didn’t I get a welcome like that?” they heard Ben ask and broke the kiss, chuckling as Mason jumped back down.
“Because you smell like ass…” Sage said, scrunching up his nose.
“I was…” Ben started, but Sage slapped his hands over his ears, starting up a string of “la-la-la” to avoid hearing it.
“Don’t care. Don’t wanna know… go shower,” he insisted, weaving his magic around Ben, making it push him into the house.
Mason watched the display with a smile on his face, Drew’s arms wrapped around his waist.
“Feeling better?” he checked in quietly and felt Drew nod against him. “Did you eat?”
“Nah, had some coffee,” he said and Mason nodded.
“I saved you a bear claw,” he said, and Drew’s eyes grew wide as he smacked a loud kiss to his cheek.
“Score!” he exclaimed, but he stayed planted in place, his hands firm around Mason’s waist. He sent him a questioning eyebrow, and Drew batted those eyes of his at him. “Make it come over? I’m too comfy here.”
Mason chuckled and lifted his fingers, but Sage whipped his head around, threatening to send him directly to hell with just one look.
“No flying food. Crumbs will get everywhere,” he said to Mason before turning to Drew, making him shrink behind Mason. “Walk your butt inside and get it!”
“Love you, Sage!” He ran inside, the promise of Sage’s bear claws, and the threat of eternal doom propelling him to run as fast as he could.
“Really?” Sage squawked when Drew disappeared inside the house.
“What?” Mason looked at him questioning.
“You saved him a bear claw?” Sage asked and Mason nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, and Sage threw a rag directly to his face.
“I almost lost an arm trying to eat one, when you had a box full!!” he yelled, and Mason rolled his eyes, throwing the rag back.
“That was a year ago. Let it go,” he said, and Sage stuck his tongue out at him again.
Ben came out smelling of lavender and was deemed worthy of Sage’s kisses, and Drew ate his bear claw in record time, offering to help Sage barbecue. Mason was tasked with finishing up the salad, and soon, they were all sitting around the table, eating, laughing and enjoying a warm spring day.
Mason looked around himself, barely able to believe this was his life. Filled with laughter, love, friendship, family, piles of good food and the helpful little parasol that kept shifting around as the sun moved to give them the best shade it could.
His heart soaring, he leaned his head against Drew’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of him, smiling as he felt a small kiss land on his forehead.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he lazily pulled it out, swiping a finger over the screen to unlock it. A text flashed at him and he gasped, freezing in place, hope and fear fighting for dominance in his head.
“Mason?” he heard Drew calling him, and he looked up, offering his phone to him. A few short sentences were written on the screen, and they were comforting and tarrying at the same time.
“It’s from Darian,” he said as Drew read the text.
Darian: He’s here. His name is Tate. And he’s safe with me.
Leaving Daydream?
Take one of Mason’s lanterns with you. You never know what you might find along the way.
Want to come back for a visit?
Consider checking out the second book in the Daydream, Colorado series. Darian and Tate would love to show you their greenhouse and tell you how they found each other against all odds. mybook.to/HeartwoodAMRose
About the Author
A. M. Rose is a pseudonym that hides two very nerdy personas. They met 7 years ago fangirling over fictional characters someone else created and thought…why not try and create some of our own. They live in different countries but that doesn’t stop them from being best friends, sisters, accomplices and more than likely, each other’s alibis (should anyone ever need one…they’re very much anti-crime…mostly). They enjoy fantasy, sci-fi, good books, music, traveling, dogs and planning new books that’ll take them ages to actually write. They’re master procrastinators, lovers of dad jokes and puns (well one of them is, the other one just suffers in silent resignation), and sarcastic to boot. And they’re really glad you decided to pick up their book and spend some time in their world.
FOLLOW US
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Want to read more by A. M. Rose?
Reed
He never owned anything. His life was controlled, his wolf was stifled, and his rank was a means to an end for his family. He was never loved. He was never asked what he wanted. So when the opportunity arises for him to finally make his own choice and help someone, he’ll do it. No matter how much it hurts him
Jaxon
He just wanted what was rightfully his. His family was gone, his home was taken away from him, and his people risked their lives to support him. So when he’s offered help by someone he should hate, there is no other choice but to accept. Even if it threatens everything he’s ever believed.
mybook.to/Returninghome
