Taken Home (Lone Star Burn) (16 page)

He turned her around and pushed her back on the bed. Her eyes were raging with need for him. He slipped on a condom before joining her, then lay beside her and kissed her passionately and deeply. When he finally brought his gloved hand to her sex, she was already moaning. He placed his vibrating thumb on her clit, working it in light circles, experimenting until she was moving herself against his hand. Then he slid his middle finger deep inside her and sought the spot that many men found elusive on a woman. Finding it was an art, not a science. He knew he’d found it when she started to swear and beg him not to stop.

He pumped one finger in and out of her, slowly at first and then with more speed. He inserted a second finger, and she swore again softly. She was tightening around his fingers, and her preclimax flush was spreading up her gorgeous chest, when he removed his hand and thrust himself deeply inside her. She spread her legs widely for him, and he pounded down again and again until she cried out in release.

Only then did he bring his gloved hand back to her clit. He knew he could make her come again. She kissed him hotly. Her hands clung to him as he thrust into her again and again while using his vibrating fingers to send her soaring toward her second climax.

Her second cry was muffled in their kiss, and he came wildly with her.

He disposed of his condom, removed the glove, gathered her into his arms, and kissed her temple. “So what’s the verdict?”

She snuggled against his side. “That may be my favorite toy, but I really should try the other before I say for sure.” She kissed his shoulder. “Will we have time before we land?”

A deep laugh rumbled through Mason’s chest. “We haven’t left the ground yet.”

She hugged him and laughed. “Really? Because it felt like we did.”

He closed his eyes and admitted to himself that it had been the same for him.

He realized he’d done a piss-poor job of keeping his promise not to lie to her. He’d told her he wasn’t afraid of anything, but the truth was what he felt when he was with Chelle scared the shit out of him.

For the first time in his adult life, he was with a woman he couldn’t imagine life without, but he didn’t know if he was capable of the kind of love that came naturally to her. She wasn’t someone who would accept only a part of him. She’d want everything.

Letting her in would mean opening the door to the past.

Chapter Thirteen

The heat of the Texan afternoon went unnoticed as she and Mason walked, hand in hand, down the steps of the plane and onto the tarmac. If her feet touched the earth, she didn’t feel it. She was floating, wrapped in a cocoon of bliss. She’d joked she couldn’t imagine why anyone would have a Jacuzzi on an airplane. Now she couldn’t imagine flying without one.

She and Mason had just had a glorious, thought-erasing couple hours of sex, during which she’d discovered she loved the taste of watermelon and that diamonds felt pretty damn good. Although she’d showered and dressed, she knew she was sporting a goofy post-sex smile. Mason had the same expression, so she didn’t bother to try to hide how good she felt. She should have left Fort Mavis a long time ago.

She yawned and chuckled. It was only late afternoon, and she was exhausted. She considered calling her parents and telling them she would see them in the morning. She didn’t think, though, they’d appreciate the reason behind her desire to take a nap.

She felt Mason tense beside her and followed his gaze to a limo that pulled up beside the plane. His expression shifted to carefully welcoming as Charles and Melanie stepped out of the limo and walked toward them.

Chelle waved to Melanie and exclaimed, “I didn’t know they were coming out to meet us. Isn’t that nice?”

Even though Mason was smiling, Chelle could still feel the tension in him. “It might be.”

Chelle stepped away from Mason to hug Melanie. Melanie looked her over, then did the same to Mason, and smiled knowingly. “Well, look at the happy couple.”

Chelle blushed and hugged Melanie again. She whispered, “You have no idea. I can’t talk about it now, but I’m in heaven. Mason is incredible.”

Melanie frowned.

Charles asked Mason if he could speak to him for a moment. The two of them walked to the other side of the limo.

Melanie’s expression remained concerned, and Chelle was irritated by the negativity she was sensing in her friend. “What?”

“Nothing,” Melanie said, but it was obvious she was holding something in.

Chelle put her hands on her hips. “Whatever you’re thinking, keep it to yourself. You and Sarah are the ones who encouraged me to have an adventure. Well, I’m having one. And it’s better than anything I ever let myself imagine.”

Melanie pursed her lips and didn’t say anything.

Chelle continued, “I know what you’re thinking. Mason isn’t the type of man who settles down. You don’t want me to get my heart broken. You think I’ve forgotten that this whole engagement is fake. Well, news flash, I’m not an idiot. I wouldn’t be with Mason if he was even looking at other women. He’s not. I don’t know if what we have is going to last, but it’s not fake. Not anymore. Not to me. Not to him.”

Melanie opened her mouth to say something, then clamped it shut again.

Chelle threw her hands up in the air and said, “And I realize that bringing him here may not have been the best idea I’ve ever had, but he needs to see what a real family is like. He’s never had one, at least not by my definition. I want him to see that love can work.”

Melanie was round-eyed, but she held her silence.

“You think I’m crazy to fall in love with a man like Mason, don’t you? That he’ll be with another woman by next week. You’re wrong.”

Melanie raised a hand in protest. “I don’t think you’re crazy, but I do agree with some of what you said.”

“I don’t care what you think.” Chelle crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t care what anyone thinks. All I know is how I feel when I’m with him. Don’t tell me he doesn’t feel the same, because I won’t believe you.”

Melanie put an arm around Chelle and just held her. “I want nothing more than for you to be right, Chelle.”

Chelle hugged her back. “I am. I know I am.”

The sound of male voices rising in anger made both women turn in the direction of Mason and Charles. Although Chelle couldn’t hear what they were saying, it was obviously not a pleasant conversation.

Don’t ruin this for me, Charles. Please.

Chelle brought one hand to her lips and watched the two men become more and more upset with each other. “Are they arguing about me?”

Melanie winced as she watched the men. “My guess is yes. Charles asked Mason to stay away from you. I didn’t know how serious he was about it until after you left, and we talked. He was furious when he saw the two of you in the news. He was hoping Mason would call off the engagement and not bring the charade here.” She looked at Chelle. “Even I don’t understand why Mason is taking it this far.”

Chelle clasped her hands in front of her. “He wants to be with me. Does it have to be more complicated than that?”

Melanie shook her head. “It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Chelle. The whole relationship is backward. Aren’t you supposed to date, figure out if you want to be together, and then tell the world you’re getting married?”

Without looking away from Mason and Charles, Chelle said, “Oh, right. I’ve done this all wrong. I should have gone to New York, slept with a man I barely knew, then run back home to hide from him.” The sound of Melanie’s harshly indrawn breath told Chelle she’d gone too far. She felt instantly contrite. “Sorry, Mel. I didn’t mean that. I don’t feel like justifying what I have with Mason—that’s all. But I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

Melanie sighed. “No, you’re right. What you do with Mason is no one’s business but yours. I’m not sure we can convince Charles of that, though.”

The two men were still standing toe-to-toe, snarling at each other. Chelle asked, “Do you think one of them will throw a punch?”

Melanie gave Chelle a quick pat on the shoulder. “I don’t know, but let’s not give them a chance to get that far. We told your parents we’d drive the two of you to their house, and it’s probably best not to take a brawl there.”

Chelle closed her eyes briefly. “My parents. They do understand that I’m staying with Mason in town, don’t they?”

Melanie chuckled. “I wouldn’t bet on that.”

“Did you see my father today?”

Melanie nodded.

Chelle continued, “I haven’t spoken to him since I left. How is he taking it? My mom said he’s coming around to the idea.”

Melanie rubbed her jaw with her thumb. “You know fathers. They’re slow to get used to their little girls growing up.”

Shaking her head, Chelle asked, “I know he’s only upset because he cares. I don’t understand Charles, though. What is he so upset about? He’s not even related to me.”

They started walking toward their men and Melanie said, “Charles has been Mason’s friend for a long time. He knows what he’s capable of. He doesn’t want to see him hurt you.”

While they were still out of earshot, Chelle added, “Can you give Charles a message for me later? A person who has no faith in someone he claims to love is not what I would call a very good friend.”

Mason took several calming breaths when he saw Chelle and Melanie approaching. If the visit weren’t so important to Chelle, he would have turned his back on Charles and Fort Mavis. He hadn’t left the airport yet, and he was already questioning not only his friendship with Charles but his sanity for agreeing to come to that godforsaken town in the first place.

He and Charles had disagreed about things in the past but never like this. He’d always thought that although they were different, they would support each other, no matter what.

The truth was in Charles’s eyes when he’d told Mason what a mistake it had been to come back to Fort Mavis. It didn’t matter that Charles had chosen his words carefully; Mason had understood exactly what he was saying. Charles didn’t want Mason fucking up his perfect little town.

He’d asked Mason to make up an excuse, any excuse, to turn around and leave. And that was the moment Mason had realized how important Chelle had become to him. If being with her ended his friendship with Charles, then so be it. Charles hadn’t taken hearing that truth well.

There had been nothing left to do but stand there, glaring at each other. They’d talked their way into what Mason, as a politician, would call a no-win, no-compromise standoff. In his experience, those were best walked away from. Battles like that tended to get bloody and ugly, with nothing achieved as a result.

Mason welcomed Chelle’s appearance. He plastered a smile on his face and put an arm around her waist. “Are we ready to go? What time did your parents say dinner would be? Do we have time to freshen up at the hotel first?”

Chelle made a face and said, “My parents want us to stay with them.”

Mason looked at Charles and said, “That sounds perfect.”

“Really?” Chelle asked in surprise. “They’ll probably put me in my old bedroom and you in one of the spare rooms, but I know it will mean a lot to them to have us there.”

“I’m fine with whatever,” Mason assured Chelle and felt a bit guilty when he saw how happy she was with his answer.

She hugged him. “We’ll have to get up early tomorrow morning. Our engagement party is half roof-fixing and half barbeque. Both take time. It’ll be a full day, so it might work out to be there.”

“I can’t wait,” Mason said and guided Chelle toward the open door of the limo.

Before Mason had time to join her, Charles blocked him with one arm and asked, “Tell me this isn’t a publicity stunt for you. I know being with Chelle has helped you in the polls. Don’t use her as part of some political campaign.”

Mason bared his teeth at Charles in what was barely a smile. “Get the fuck out of my way, Charles.”

Charles dropped his arm, and Mason climbed into the limo beside Chelle. Melanie and Charles sat across from them.

Chelle seemed to sense his mood despite his effort to conceal it from her. She scooted closer to him and put a supportive hand on his thigh. She leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry. My parents will love you.”

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. He caught Melanie and Charles watching him, and buried his feelings about them deep within him, along with everything else he felt bad about but had no way of changing.

Chelle asked Melanie about Jace, and that started a catching-up-on-news conversation between the two women that lasted the duration of the ride to the Landons’ ranch. When they arrived, Charles waited beside the limo for Mason. He looked surprisingly apologetic.

“Mace, I had to ask.”

Mason shook his head and turned away from his friend. “No, Charles, you didn’t.”

Chapter Fourteen

Watching Mason pass a plate of potatoes around her parents’ dining room table felt as surreal as the entire last two weeks had. Charles and Melanie had returned to their home, saying they had promised David they would pick Jace up early. Chelle thought it had more to do with whatever Charles and Mason had said to each other back at the airport, but she’d let them go without protest. Dinner with her parents would be tricky enough without adding another layer of tension to it.

After an initial awkward few moments in which her mother had hugged Mason for too long and her father had given him a handshake that made him wince, Chelle’s parents had told her and Mason they had just enough time to freshen up before dinner. As she’d predicted, her parents were adamant that she and Mason stay at their home. They’d set up a room for Mason on the far side of the house, just beyond her parents’ room. Her father had not-so-subtly mentioned he’d never fixed the creaking boards in that hallway, and any late-night wandering to the bathroom would likely wake the whole house. Her eyes had sought Mason’s, and they’d shared a look that had them both choking back their laughter.

They’d almost lost it a second time when Chelle’s mother had asked them if they’d flown straight there or stopped anywhere along the way. She’d said, “Galveston is such a beautiful city and worth the detour. Nice shops there, too.”

That time, Chelle had not met Mason’s eyes. She never would have been able to keep her composure if she had. She was already beating back hot memories from their flight over.

While spooning peas onto her plate, Chelle’s mother said, “Everyone is heading over to Mrs. Nicholson’s at eight in the morning. You two should turn in early; you both look tired.”

Chelle choked on the water she had been sipping.

Mason added smoothly, “Good idea. Traveling is exhausting.”

Chelle’s father cut into his steak and said, “I heard you flew in on a private plane. California sure is generous with their senators.”

Mason answered without hesitation. “I would never use public money for personal purposes. I’m fortunate that the investments I made when I was younger allow me the freedom to choose how I travel.”

Her father harrumphed. “Acting and politics, two careers I can’t say I hold much admiration for. And you’re a Democrat?”

“Dad,” Chelle said in protest and looked to her mother in an appeal for help.

Her mother gave her less sympathy than she’d hoped for. “Chelle, when you bring a man home and say you’re marrying him, you can’t expect your father not to want to get to know him.”

Flashing that smooth smile Chelle had seen him use many times before, Mason said, “I am a Democrat, but I won’t hold your Republican affiliation against you. Texas used to be a Democratic state. Who knows, you may find yourself voting that way again.”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I vote for some bleeding-heart liberal. All you do is pass more sissified laws. Seat belts. Helmets. I’m waiting for the day my cousins up north start covering their kids in Bubble Wrap before letting them outside to play. In my day, kids fell down. And yes, they got hurt, but you know what? They learned how not to fall down. How the hell can a kid learn how to survive if they spend all day on a damn couch?”

The rant was not a new one. Her father was a Vietnam veteran. He believed in family, God, and country, and his views probably hadn’t changed in the last fifty years. There was no use arguing with him; he’d seen men die fighting for freedom, and he didn’t like anyone telling him what to do. Chelle’s mother told her she had a lot of her father in her, and Chelle didn’t mind the comparison. Her father had marched for civil rights reform. He believed in freedom for all, regardless of religious, racial, or lifestyle differences. You just couldn’t tell him he needed to wear a helmet when he rode a horse.

Chelle bit back a smile as she remembered what he’d said to a man who had applied for a job at the ranch and asked if a helmet was required for riding. Her father had said, “You know what I would do if one of my hands wore one? I’d beat the tar out of him myself. If you’re so afraid of falling, get your ass off my horses.”

Mason cut into his steak and said blandly, “Some couches are quite dangerous. They have those levers on the side and snap into place. A person could easily lose a finger.”

Her father opened his mouth to say something, appeared to realize Mason was poking a little fun at him, and snapped his mouth shut.

Chelle quickly interceded by explaining the merits of the water bill Mason was working on. She wanted her father to see the good he was doing.

Her father laid down his knife and studied Mason. “That can’t be a popular stand to take.”

Mason’s expression hardened. “It’s not, but the right thing to do is often not the easiest. My second term ends in two years. I can’t run again for this office, but I can use my remaining time to get some long-term policies put in place that will hopefully avert what could be one of our nation’s largest man-made disasters if we allow it to go unchecked.”

“We struggle with similar issues here. So”—her father continued his cross-examination—“what are your plans for after you leave the senate? Can you see yourself here in Texas?”

“Dad,” Chelle protested again. “We haven’t discussed that yet.”

“Well, you need to,” her father countered. “Marriage isn’t something you should jump in and out of like so many people do today. I want to know that the two of you have thought this through. Are you planning on having children? Have you talked about if Chelle is going to continue to work? She left here thinking she wanted to find her dream job and came back with you. I want to know what else she found out there.”

Chelle’s mother put her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Roger, don’t you think you’re being too hard on them? If my father had asked us where we wanted to be, we would have said together. Give them time to figure everything out. We’ve raised a smart daughter. Trust her to make good choices.”

Roger gave Mason a long look. “I trust our daughter; it’s him I’m not sure about yet.”

Mason held his tongue and met Chelle’s eyes. She shot him a grateful look. A week ago she would have been writhing internally from guilt as she lied to her parents. But now she didn’t feel guilty at all. Their actual engagement might not be real, but how she felt about Mason was. “Dad, I wouldn’t have brought Mason home to meet you if I didn’t think he was the most amazing man I’ve ever known.”

A funny, pained expression passed over Mason’s face.

Roger’s eyes narrowed and he asked, “What does your father do for a living, Mason?”

“I don’t know. He and I don’t speak.”

Chelle knew that wasn’t an easy admission for Mason to make. She put her hand on his and gave it a squeeze. She wanted to protect him from the questions, but she also understood what her mother had said about letting them get to know each other.

“And your mother?” her father asked gruffly.

“She died when I was eighteen,” Mason said, his tone devoid of emotion.

Her father’s expression softened. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Mason shrugged a shoulder. “It was a long time ago.”

Roger nodded, then threw his napkin down beside his plate. “Bryn, dinner was wonderful as always. If you don’t mind, I’d like to show Mason around. It’s early enough for us to get in a ride before sundown.”

“That sounds perfect. It’ll give Chelle and me time to catch up,” Bryn answered.

Her father and Mason stood, and Chelle panicked. She interjected quickly, “Dad, I’m sure Mason doesn’t ride.”

Roger turned to Mason. “Do you?”

Mason’s unreadable smile was back. “Of course.”

“Then let’s go,” Roger said and led the way out of the dining room.

Mason winked at her as he followed her father. Chelle had no idea what that meant. “Mom, we have to stop them. What if Mason said he can ride just because he didn’t want to say no to Dad?”

Her mother started clearing the dishes from the table. “Grab the glasses. I’ll take the plates. And then you need to tell me why you’re marrying a man you don’t know all that much about. Are you pregnant?”

Chelle gathered the glasses and followed her mother into the kitchen. “No. Oh, Mom. Did you ever do something that feels right and wrong at the same time?”

“He’s not married to someone else already, is he?” Bryn asked while leading the way back to retrieve more dishes.

“No, nothing like that.”

A moment later, they were back in the kitchen. Her mother was washing the dishes, and Chelle was drying them. “Well, speak, child. I’m listening.”

Chelle dried another dish and stacked it in the cupboard. “I’m happy, Mom. Nothing happened the way I would have planned it, but does that make it bad? I want to be with Mason, and he wants to be with me. Can’t that be enough?”

Bryn took a break from washing the dishes and wiped her hands on a towel. “We’re happy you found someone, Chelle, but your father’s not the only one who is worried. You don’t have to rush into anything. Take your time. If this is the man you’re meant to be with, it’ll happen.”

Chelle turned and leaned back against the counter. “If you’re so worried, why are you having a party for us tomorrow?”

Bryn kissed her daughter’s forehead and said, “You’re our only child, and if you love Mason, then we love him, too, and that’s something to celebrate, don’t you think?”

Chelle threw her arms around her mother and hugged her. “It is. How did I end up with the best parents in the world?”

Her mother wiped away a tear and smoothed her hands on her apron before turning back to the sink. “Well, you didn’t do it by slacking on your chores. We’ll have company in and out of here all day tomorrow. Let’s get this place cleaned up.”

Chelle picked up the towel again and dried another dish. “I don’t have a solid plan about anything, Mom. I’m twenty-five, and I feel like my whole life is up in the air. Sometimes I feel free. Sometimes I’m downright terrified.”

Her mother paused again and met her eyes. “I’ve seen you make tough choices in the past, but I’ve never heard you say you’ve regretted them. You’ll be fine, Chelle. Keep following that beautiful heart of yours, and you’ll end up where you’re supposed to be.”

Chelle nodded, glad she’d come home. She hoped Mason was enjoying himself as much as she was. “You don’t think Dad would put Mason in danger, do you?”

The quick
no
Chelle had hoped to hear didn’t come. Instead, her mother rinsed the last dish off and said, “Why don’t we go check on them?”

Mason took a long, hard look at the horse Chelle’s father had asked his ranch hand to saddle for him. The mare was swaybacked and insultingly aged; she was in her thirties if she was a day old. He could feel Roger watching his reaction and knew he was being tested.

Had Mason not learned to ride at one of the summer camps his parents had sent him to, he would have accepted that mount. His parents had cultivated skills in Mason they thought would help him become a star. He’d taken fencing, self-defense, riding, and acting lessons as early on as he could remember. It hadn’t particularly mattered if he enjoyed them or not, although he had. Especially riding. The rider and the horse worked together, or they failed. Mason’s instructors had said he was a natural.

He hadn’t ridden since before his mother died. Temptation spurred him to see if he could still do it. Mason looked away from the old mare being led toward him and scanned the paddocks. “Do you have anything younger? A little more challenging to ride?”

He spotted a well-muscled brown horse in a round pen. “How about him?”

Roger shook his head. “You wouldn’t want him. He requires an experienced rider.”

Mason walked over to the pen and looked the horse over. “I’d like to try him.”

“Are you sure I can’t talk you out of it?” Roger asked in a dry tone.

“I’m sure,” Mason said with growing confidence.

Roger told the ranch hand to saddle the younger horse. The man said, “Boss, isn’t that the horse you’re sending over to Tony because—”

Roger cut the man off. “Saddle him up.”

“Yes, boss.” The man gave Mason a look and shrugged.

Mason was no fool. He had a pretty good idea that the horse being saddled for him had issues. He could have confronted Roger and gotten him to admit it. He could just as easily have refused to ride the horse. But he had a feeling Chelle’s father wouldn’t have respected him for choosing either one of those options.

Mason decided to get up on that horse, and if he were thrown, he would get back on. He was going to prove to Roger he was not out of place on that ranch. Exactly why Roger’s opinion mattered so much wasn’t something Mason was about to analyze. It just did.

When the ranch hand returned with the bay, Mason walked over and laid his hand on the horse’s neck. “What’s his name?”

“We call him Fury, but on paper his name’s Prancer. The breeder’s daughter named him. She thought he had a cute trot. He didn’t make it as a family horse, though.”

Mason looked into the horse’s eyes. He didn’t see craziness there; he saw anxiety. So he spoke softly and slowly. “Well, Prancer, you need to consider rebranding yourself. I can’t say either name fits you. How about Tango? Would you like me to call you that?”

“What’s he doing?” the ranch hand asked.

“He’s having a conversation with the damn horse,” Roger answered.

“You think he can ride?”

“He says he can.”

“You want me to call Doc Stevens and have him on standby?”

Mason tuned the two men out and said, “Tango, I’ll make you a deal. Don’t throw me, and I will make sure they change your name.” With that, he swung himself up into the saddle and waited.

The horse danced nervously beneath him, but Mason left the reins slack. He relaxed in his seat and let the horse settle. Like riding a bike, his ability to communicate with horses came back to him. He could hear his trainer telling him to keep his commands firm, but his hands light.

Mason didn’t consider himself a horse whisperer, but he could read people and animals. He would bet the horse below him had been spoiled by his previous owner and allowed to pick up some bad habits. Habits cowboys would have no tolerance for. If he was right, the horse wasn’t angry; he was confused and frustrated. The rules had all changed for him, and Mason could imagine how the horse would respond to being harshly reined in. Mason would buck, too.