by Lori Wilde
“Sonofabitch!” He started to jerk the picture off the wall, but then stopped. The pictures were evidence that Rich was stalking Becky. They needed to stay right here until she could be convinced to press charges and push for a search warrant. There was little doubt that somewhere in the trailer or in the guy’s vehicle was the knife that had been used to cut the calf.
He left, not bothering to close the door behind him. He hoped the busted door scared Rich. He hoped it scared him enough to get the hell out of Texas, but he doubted it. Stalkers were obsessed with their prey. Nothing short of jail time would stop their infatuation. And sometimes not even that. Which meant that until Rich was locked up, Becky was in danger.
Mason just wished he could get that through her head. If he couldn’t, maybe her brother could. As soon as he was on the highway, he called Zane.
“Mace?” Zane answered in a groggy voice.
“Sorry, man.” Mason glanced at the dash clock. “I forgot about the time difference.”
“No problem.” Zane yawned. “Carly and I need to rise and shine anyway. She signed us up for some snorkeling excursion today—even though I told the woman that cowboys aren’t exactly waterproof.”
Mason heard Carly’s laughter in the background. “You were last night in the hot tub.”
“That’s because I was diving for pearls.”
There was giggling as if Zane was tickling Carly, and just that quickly, Mason realized his mistake. He’d thought he would be helping his friend by watching out for his little sister. Instead, he’d be ruining his honeymoon. Zane was extremely protective of Becky. Once he heard about Rich, he’d want to hop the first flight home. And Mason couldn’t let him do that. Not when there was another way to protect Becky.
“So what’s up?” Zane asked.
“I was just calling to see if it would be okay if I stayed at your ranch for a few days. My air conditioner is broken and the heat here has been pretty unbearable.”
Zane didn’t hesitate. “Of course you can stay at the house. In fact, it will put my mind at ease knowing someone is there to keep an eye on Becky. With my dad in Houston at a livestock show, I’m a little worried about her being in charge.”
As far as Mason could tell, Becky didn’t have problem being in charge. She had a problem listening to reason. He would have his hands full trying to convince her to file charges against Rich.
“And could I ask another favor?” Zane continued. “Do you think you could get Becky away from the ranch next Friday? It’s her birthday and my mother is cooking up a little birthday surprise for her. My daddy should be there by then, but getting Becky to spend the entire day with Daddy is asking a lot.”
“I thought you were going to be gone for two weeks.”
“That’s all part of the plan to throw Becky off. She always expects a surprise party. So this year we planned it for the day before her actual birthday. I hope you can be there. I had my mom send the invitation to your apartment in Austin. I didn’t realize you were going to be in Bliss this soon. Are you getting in some rest and relaxation?”
The last few days had been anything but relaxing, so Mason needed to stretch the truth. “I’ve done a little reading and a little sightseeing, and I plan to do some fishing. And speaking of fishing, I better let you get to your snorkeling. Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon. I’ll see you when you get back.”
“See you then. And tell my baby sister to behave herself—not that she’ll listen.”
“Will do,” Mason said before he hung up. Although he didn’t need to remind Becky as much as himself. The kiss he’d given her at the little white chapel had almost sent him over the edge. He’d been seconds away from taking her right then and there. The only thing that had kept him from it was the fact that they didn’t play by the same rules, which was why he made a point of letting her know about his sexual preferences. Now that she knew, he had little doubt that she would stay completely away from him. She wanted sweet, gentle lovers like Honey Bee. Although Honey Bee was no longer her lover.
After she said she didn’t have a boyfriend, he’d been curious. He’d left the chapel and gone straight back to his house to finish reading the diary. Becky hadn’t lied. The last entry was only two short lines.
Honey Bee is gone. My heart is broken forever.
It was a little dramatic. Especially when Becky didn’t act heartbroken. She acted like she was ready for another lover. Just not Mason.
When he got back to his house, he found Ms. Marble’s Oldsmobile parked out front. Since he couldn’t see her sitting in the car and he was pretty sure he’d locked the front door, he worried that she’d passed out in the front seat from the heat. But she wasn’t in the car. He searched around the house, and then hurried up the porch steps. He’d been wrong. The front door was unlocked.
Once inside, he noticed three things: The cool air. The delicious scent wafting from the kitchen. And the mangy cat curled up right in the center of the rug in the living room. It opened one green eye and stared at him for a moment before closing it and going back to sleep.
Mason walked into the kitchen where he found the little old woman puttering around like the last time she’d been there. And like before, the sight made him feel strangely content.
“Well, there you are,” she said when she saw him. She walked over and leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I thought you’d gone back to Austin and left me on my own. I hope you don’t mind me making myself at home. I was afraid if I left my oatmeal chocolate chip cookies on the porch, the chocolate would be nothing but a gooey mess by the time you got back.”
She moved to the table and unwrapped the plate of cookies. “I knew you loved chocolate by the way you gobbled up my brownies, but the oatmeal will keep you regular.” She sent him a stern look. “I’m convinced that’s one of the reasons you never smile. Constipation is not a laughing matter.”
Mason laughed. The woman was a character. “Thank you for caring about my digestive system.”
“Everyone needs someone to care about them. And seeing as how you don’t have any family to watch out for you, it falls to your friends.” She poured some sweet tea into the glasses on the table. “Speaking of which, I’m glad to see you’ve made friends with Dirk. When I got here, I found him inside testing the air conditioner.”
Obviously, the people of Bliss didn’t have a problem walking into houses uninvited. “It feels like it works pretty good.”
She smiled. “That boy is handy. Now come sit down and have some tea.” She pulled a stack of legal-sized paper out of the tote bag hooked on the back of the kitchen chair. “And while we’re at it, you can look over my will before I keel over.”
Mason took off his cowboy hat and tossed it onto the counter before taking the chair next to hers. “I think you’ve got a few good years left in you.”
Her blue eyes twinkled. “Maybe just a few.”
After he finished going over Ms. Marble’s will and correcting any problems he saw, he walked her to the door. She smiled at the cat that was now stretched out on the rug like a fur blanket with paws. She squeezed his arm. “Only a sensitive man with a heart of gold can understand a feline.”
Mason didn’t have a heart of gold. Once Ms. Marble was gone, he turned to the cat. “Enjoy your nap, Furball. When I finish lunch, you’re out on your ass.”
But while he was eating, Furball came into the kitchen and sat by his feet. It was hard to ignore the pleading look in the green eyes. He ended up giving the cat half the ham from his sandwich. When he went to the bedroom to pack, Furball followed him and jumped up on the bed.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Mason grabbed the cat and then wrinkled his nose. “Damn, you smell worse than Rich Myer’s trailer.” He should’ve tossed the stinky thing outside. Instead, he carried the cat to the bathroom.
He learned a couple things about cats while giving Furball a bath: Cats don’t like water. And they have extremely sharp claws. By the time the stink was off the mangy animal, Mason
had numerous scratches on his arms. As soon as he toweled the cat off and set it on the floor, Furball streaked under the bed and stayed there while Mason finished packing.
He packed light. He didn’t plan on staying at the Earhart Ranch during the day. He figured Rich wasn’t brave enough to bother Becky with a bunch of ranch hands around. And maybe he wasn’t brave enough to bother her at all. Maybe he was the type of guy who was only brave with helpless animals. But Mason wasn’t willing to take the chance.
He was almost finished packing when he dropped a balled-up pair of boot socks on the floor. The cat finally came out from under the bed to attack the rolling socks. It was hard not to laugh at the pouncing and batting that ensued. The ball of socks ended up in the corner. Furball pounced on them and the loose board popped up and smacked him in the butt, causing the cat to yowl and streak from the room.
Mason was still laughing when he walked over to retrieve his socks. The loose board reminded him that he needed to put the diary back in the floor. Or maybe he should just give it to Becky. He tossed his socks in the suitcase, then reached under the pillow.
The diary was gone.
“Valentine Clemens had spent her entire life fighting for herself. A champion was not something she was used to. Especially one who made her heart flutter and her knees weak with just one look from his dark, penetrating eyes.”
Chapter 10
“You want Mason as your Honey Bee?” Gracie’s yelled so loudly that Becky had to pull the phone away from her ear. “Are you crazy? You can’t have some guy you hate as your Honey Bee.”
“I never said I hated him.” Becky opened the door of the stall. As soon as she stepped inside, Muffin came over to greet her. The foal immediately started nosing Becky’s pockets for the treats she always brought him. She pulled out a carrot stub and gave it to the horse. “I just said he was too controlling.”
“But I thought you hated controlling men?”
She did. But she’d come to realize that Mason wasn’t controlling as much as . . . dominant.
Just the word sent a tingle of heat to Becky’s panties. She’d read the Fifty Shades book her senior year in college because all her friends were reading it. And while she didn’t love it nearly as much as the Tender Heart series, it had conjured up a lot of fantasies. Fantasies that had been resurrected after Mason had told her about his kink. She spent another sleepless night wondering just how kinky he got. Did he use ropes? Cuffs? A riding crop?
“Becky?”
Becky blinked away the fantasy and returned to the conversation. “I realize you want your Honey Bee to be a man you love, Gracie Lynn. But I’m not ready for love. Starting a ranch is a full-time job and I don’t need to add a husband to the mix—or even a serious boyfriend. Which is why Mason is so perfect. He doesn’t want a serious relationship either. Besides, if I have sex with him it could work in our favor.”
“How do you figure?”
“There’s nothing like a clingy woman to make a man head for the hills.”
There was a long pause before Gracie spoke. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea. Can’t you just offer him more money when you get your trust fund?”
“I could, but I get the feeling that money doesn’t mean that much to Mason.”
“Actually, money means quite a lot to me.”
Becky whirled around to see Mason leaning on the lower half of the stable door. His dark eyes twinkled with amusement. She had never seen Mason amused before. It made him even more devilishly handsome. It also made her wonder how much he’d overheard.
“I have to call you later, Gracie,” she said before she hung up the phone and slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans. “Do you always slip around listening in on peoples’ conversations?”
“Only when they’re talking about me. Who were you talking to?”
“My cousin.”
A calculating look entered his eyes. “Ahh, since disrupting my peace and quiet hasn’t worked, you’re going to try bribery.”
She smiled and shrugged. “I figured it couldn’t hurt.”
He didn’t seem angry. Only amused. “You’re certainly tenacious. I’ll give you that.”
“My daddy calls it stubbornness.”
“Is your cousin as stubborn?”
“When she wants something, she can be. But she’s not as vocal about it as I am.” She gave Muffin another carrot stub before she headed for the door. Mason stepped back as she opened it. The cat sitting at his feet took her by surprise. “Just where did you come from, sweetheart?” She knelt down and scratched the cat’s ears.
“The bowels of hell, I think,” Mason said.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s just a Mr. Grumpy Pants.” She got to her feet and sent him a quizzical look. “You’re a cat guy?”
Beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, his eyebrows lowered. “No. I’m not a cat guy. Furball just showed up at my house. I even considered the possibility that you sent him to torment me.”
“I have a lot of abilities, but cat mind control isn’t one of them.” She headed over to the shelves where they kept the cat and dog foods. She filled a bowl and placed it on the ground. The cat remained by Mason’s boots and lifted his nose in disdain. She looked at Mason. “You’ve been feeding him people food, haven’t you?”
The blush that stained his cheeks made her laugh, and his scowl deepened. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Let him starve? I brought him here because I thought you might need a mouser—”
Shep came racing in the door of the barn after spending his day herding cattle in the fields. The dog liked cats, but Mason didn’t know that. He scooped the cat up and cradled it protectively against his chest as Shep jumped around his legs.
Becky laughed. “Admit it, Mason, you’re now the owner of a cute kitty.”
His eyes narrowed. “I am not—” His shoulders slumped. “Fine. I’m a cat guy.” He looked so distraught that she couldn’t continue to tease him.
“Go ahead and put him down,” she said. “Shep loves cats.”
He hesitated for only a second before he placed the cat on the ground. Shep came over with his tail wagging. The cat wasn’t as friendly. It arched and hissed. When Shep backed up, the cat jumped on a hay bale and watched the dog from a higher perch.
Mason visibly relaxed. “Good. The mangy thing can stay out in the barn while I’m here?”
“While you’re here?”
He crossed his arms and stared her down. “I’m staying in the guestroom until Zane gets back. Or until you press charges against Rich.”
His stance said he was prepared for a fight, but Becky was through fighting Mason. She was ready to surrender to the chemistry between them and make him her Honey Bee. It looked like fate was on her side. She thought she’d have to go to the Reed ranch to seduce him, but he had come to her.
“Just what are you smiling about?” he asked. “Being stalked is not a laughing matter.”
“You’re right. I guess I’m still thinking about you being a cat guy.” She turned so he wouldn’t see her smile get any bigger. “Come on. I’ll show you the guestroom.”
Once she’d shown Mason to his room, she headed to hers for a long, hot shower. It had been a hard day on the ranch and she couldn’t seduce a man smelling like road kill. She couldn’t help wishing that Mason would bust in like he had before, and she was thoroughly disappointed when he didn’t.
After her shower, she blow-dried her hair and put on the scented lotion Gracie had given her for Christmas. She wanted to put on something sexy and feminine, but her wardrobe was dismally lacking in that department. So she chose a pair of Daisy Duke jean shorts and a white t-shirt. Then she fluffed her hair, put on a dab of lip gloss, and went to find her houseguest. She found him in the kitchen standing over the stove stirring something that smelled delicious. Again, she was surprised.
“A cat guy and a cook?”
He turned, his gaze taking in her hair before lowering to her white t-shirt. Since she hadn�
��t put on a bra, there was little doubt he could see her nipples through the thin cotton. She was playing with fire, but she didn’t care. She was almost twenty-five and ready to get burned. She straightened her shoulders and tried to subtly thrust her chest out so her boobs looked bigger and more tempting.
He wasn’t tempted. He turned back to the stove and continued their conversation. “I assume you don’t cook.”
“Only when forced.” She stared at his dark, wavy hair that fell on the back of his neck. She really wanted to run her fingers through those inky locks, then tug him around so she could hungrily feast on his sweet lips. But that would be too aggressive. And Mason didn’t want aggressive. He wanted submissive. But how could she be submissive and still get the point across that she wanted to make him her Honey Bee? Maybe she just needed to come out and say it. But before she could, he plated up the chicken and vegetable stir-fry. The delicious-looking food, coupled with the fact that she hadn’t eaten all day, made her postpone her declaration. There would be plenty of time to talk after dinner.
Once they were seated at the breakfast bar, he expertly uncorked the Chardonnay he must’ve brought and poured it in a glass before handing it to her. “Or would you rather have milk?”
She ignored the dig at her age and accepted the glass. “I’d rather have a beer, but wine is fine.” Although she didn’t even take a sip before she dug into her food. It was delicious. “So where did you learn to cook?” she asked in between bites.
“My mom liked to cook. I learned by watching her.”
“Were you close to your mother?”
He took a deep drink of his wine. “No male ever got close to my mother. She didn’t allow it.”
The statement was spoken with no emotion, and yet every word was filled with pain. Becky’s mother wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy, but she never failed to show her kids how much she loved them. Becky had to wonder about a woman who wouldn’t let her son get close. After that conversation killer, they ate in silence. It wasn’t until they were almost finished that Mason spoke again. The man could fixate on things.