Rogue Operative [Wildfire 2] (The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection)

by Lynn Hagen

  Mason had traveled across the globe working for the government. He’d had an apartment in Virginia but was hardly ever there. Owning a dog had been something he’d always wanted to do, but it wouldn’t have been fair to the animal because he was never home.

  Now Mason had a job that would allow him to own a dog. Jordan’s suggestion took root as he filled a pot with water and added a touch of olive oil. He grabbed a box of pasta from the cupboard, along with a jar of spaghetti sauce.

  “Anything I can do?”

  “There’re fixings in the fridge for a salad. You can put a bowl together for us.”

  Mason had always lived alone, and hardly ever cooked. He loved to cook, though. It was a passion for him, though not something he wanted to turn into a profession. He just felt more relaxed when he cooked.

  He set his phone in the docking station on the counter, and the sounds of Fiona Apple filled the air, helping the atmosphere become more relaxed as Jordan and Mason worked side by side.

  Since he was on duty and Jordan had to get back to work soon, when Mason grabbed the two wineglasses, he filled them with iced tea.

  “Fancy glasses for iced tea.” Jordan tossed a sliced cucumber into his mouth.

  “I like wine with pasta, but I’m still on the clock.” Mason hoped like hell Lindsey didn’t call. He wanted to enjoy an uninterrupted meal with Jordan.

  Jordan grabbed the ingredients to make fresh vinaigrette. Mason was impressed. “You cook?”

  “If you need a boiled hot dog, I’m your guy. But my mom taught me how to make this. It’s her favorite.” An emotion passed behind Jordan’s light brown eyes—regret, maybe? That was the first time Mason had heard him talk about his family.

  “She still live in Virginia?” After placing the strainer in the sink, Mason overturned the boiling pot of spaghetti into it. He went to work mixing the pasta and sauce in the pot before grabbing two plates.

  “Yeah, her and my dad.” Jordan’s voice grew tight.

  “Are they okay?”

  He nodded. “They had me late in life. They’re up there in years, but they’re doing fine.”

  Mason knew a lie when he heard one and wondered why Jordan would say they were okay when they obviously weren’t. But he and Jordan were having a good time, and Mason didn’t want to upset him by digging deeper.

  They sat on barstools, thigh to thigh, at the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room, laughing and talking as they ate.

  Mason thoroughly enjoyed Jordan’s company, and his attraction to him only grew deeper. The urge to kiss Jordan had his lips tingling, and Mason had to fight not to lean in and capture Jordan’s lips.

  As if sensing Mason’s need, Jordan slid from the stool and took his plate and glass to the sink. “I need to get back. Darien was nice about giving me time to cool off, but there’s too much to do.”

  “I’ll drive you back.” Mason rinsed the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. Jordan helped, and in no time the kitchen was back in order.

  “Thanks for lunch.” Jordan patted his stomach. “I’m ruined for dinner now.”

  Mason’s gaze dropped to Jordan’s hand, then lowered to his denim-covered cock. Damn if he wasn’t temptation on two legs. Mason glanced away as he headed to the front door. Jordan followed.

  “Meet up tonight?” Mason asked as he closed his door. He didn’t bother locking it. In a town this small, if he had to lock his door or car, he wasn’t doing his job.

  “I already promised Max and Casey I’d meet them at Gallagher’s.”

  “I thought dinner was ruined for you?”

  “I’ll have a few drinks and shoot some pool.” Jordan glanced around, nibbling on his lower lip before he hurried to Mason’s patrol car.

  Jordan was running away. Mason saw it in his body language and heard it in his voice. “You have my number. Give me a call when you want to hang out again.”

  Jordan wiggled his phone at Mason. “I have your number.”

  The question was, would Jordan use it?

  Jordan had been having such a good time at Mason’s that he’d forgotten about Michael. Guilt weighing heavily on him, he dialed his mom after Mason had dropped him off at the house Jordan had been working on.

  “You didn’t call me back,” he reminded her.

  “I’m sorry. It’s been a mess here. Dr. Brown showed up and Michael lost it. He started throwing stuff at the doctor and saying things that made no sense. Dr. Brown called the police and they showed up, but Michael took off. The police are still looking for him.”

  That wasn’t the news Jordan had been expecting to hear. He thought about driving back to Virginia, but even if he went, he wouldn’t be of any use. Michael didn’t listen to him when his brother was in this state of mind.

  “I’m calling Uncle Gus to come over there.”

  “Don’t,” she pleaded. “You know I hate everyone knowing my business.”

  His mother was a private person. Too private if you asked Jordan. She didn’t like her family to know anything about what was going on in her life, not even where she worked. He didn’t see why. She got along with her siblings, and she did nothing that would shame her in their eyes.

  Now Jordan felt torn. She’d be furious if he called Uncle Gus, so Jordan pushed the idea from his mind, though he was clueless how to help her.

  He rubbed his forehead so hard that he should have had abrasion marks. “What do you need me to do, Ma?”

  “I just need you to talk to him, Jordan. He listens to you.”

  No, Michael didn’t. Anytime Jordan tried to talk to his brother when he was off his meds, Michael just rambled on, hearing Jordan, but not hearing him. Most of the time Jordan had no clue what Michael was talking about.

  “Let me talk to Darien.” Jordan sighed heavily. He’d been in Wildfire for over three months. Three glorious months before Michael had to ruin it. A part of Jordan resented Michael’s illness. He felt guilty for feeling that way, but that was the truth.

  “Thank you, Jordan. Call me as soon as you know.” She hung up.

  Jordan glanced to where Darien stood, and a part of him wanted to call his mom back and say that his boss wouldn’t give him the time off. He didn’t want to ask Darien. Jordan just wanted to go back to work and forget the entire situation.

  Life sucked hairy balls sometimes.

  Clutching his phone, Jordan made his way to Darien, who stood with Max at the side of the bungalow. “I need to talk to you, Darien.”

  Darien felt for Jordan. He’d been there many times when Michael flipped out, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. But he also knew it wasn’t Michael’s fault.

  Still, they were one man short, so everyone else had to pick up the slack. Which meant later hours. Matthew wasn’t going to like it, but Darien couldn’t do anything about it.

  He’d just left city hall, smiling after his lunchtime sex session with Matthew. It had become a date at least three times a week, and Darien never missed the chance to be with Matthew whenever he had the opportunity.

  He was heading back to the bungalow when a patrol car eased to the curb next to him. Darien cursed. He’d been hoping Blade wouldn’t show up to ask him anything about Jordan. Darien didn’t want to betray his friend’s trust, but mostly he didn’t want to get put in the middle of other people’s shit. He hated drama.

  As Blade got out and met Darien on the sidewalk Darien dreaded the questions he knew were coming.

  “How’s work coming along?” Blade leaned against his car parked at the curb and folded his arms over his beefy chest.

  “Good.”

  Blade took his sheriff’s hat off and ran a hand over his short-cropped hair, then replaced the hat. “Although I don’t mind shooting the breeze with you, you know why I stopped.”

  Straight to the point. “Jordan isn’t here right now, Sheriff Camden.”

  “Are his whereabouts top secret?” One of Blade’s brows arched.

  “He had some family business he had to t
ake care of.” Darien was itching to get back to work. He didn’t want Blade digging any deeper. It wasn’t Darien’s place to tell him about Jordan’s problems. He didn’t know how serious Jordan was about Blade, and Jordan would kill him if he told Blade all his business.

  “Did he say when he’ll be back?”

  Darien shook his head as he started walking away. “I’m sure he’ll come see you when he gets back in town.”

  Darien hurried along. He knew how Blade felt. Not too long ago Matthew had taken off, leaving Darien clueless. He thought about telling the sheriff to go after Jordan, just as Seoul had asked Darien to go after Matthew, but Darien didn’t.

  Jordan had made him promise not to tell Blade anything. And Darien always kept his word.

  Even if doing so sucked.

  Mason had tried calling Jordan a few times, but his calls always went to voice mail. He’d started to do a search on Jordan, see if he had any social media accounts or anything on Google about him, but felt that was too intrusive.

  And a bit stalkerish.

  He was deeply attracted to Jordan, but Mason decided to let Jordan do what he had to do and wait until his sexy electrician returned.

  Which left him with a lot of time to fill when he was off the clock.

  Mason spent the next two days throwing himself into work, trying not to think of Jordan and miserably failing. Especially at night.

  On the third day with no Jordan in sight, Mason decided to drive over to Chillicothe and check out the local animal shelter. The thought brightened his mood.

  He drove there on Saturday, confident Drake could manage the department by himself. As soon as he walked into the kennel area, he wanted every last dog in there.

  “Was there a specific type of breed you were looking for?” Amy, one of the workers, asked.

  Mason thought about what Jordan had said. “I’ll just look at what you have.”

  She nodded and smiled at him. “Let me know if one of them interests you.”

  Having a dog was a huge responsibility, and Mason didn’t want to make his decision lightly. He wanted a canine that would fit his personality. As he stared into each cage, he looked up the dog’s breed on his phone.

  He didn’t want one that was too active because he was gone for long stretches of time. But he didn’t want one that would just lie around and do nothing.

  He stopped at a cage with a German shepherd and thought of Jordan. But the German shepherd wasn’t alone. A black Labrador retriever was in the cage with him. The card on the outside of the cage said the two shouldn’t be separated.

  Mason did a quick search on both breeds, and to his delight, found they would be perfect for him. He hadn’t come here for two dogs, but what the hell. He had plenty of space in his house, and enough land for them to run.

  Decision made, Mason hunted down Amy and started the adoption process.

  An hour later, he had the dogs in the backseat of his Jeep, and two large bags of dog food and other necessities in the front seat. The German shepherd kept licking his ear. Mason chuckled and waved him off. “I’m driving, Buster.”

  The retriever had his head stuck out the window, his tongue wagging. Mason hadn’t named them. The shelter had, but he liked the name Wally, and Wally was old enough that a name change would probably confuse the hell out of him.

  He pulled up to the house, worried about opening the car door. Would they take off? So far they seemed pretty obedient, but he didn’t know them yet.

  Mason took a chance and let them out. Buster and Wally went straight to the front door. “Good boys.” He patted them on their heads.

  They explored the house while Mason brought the food in, then stowed their paperwork in the kitchen drawer. He turned when someone knocked on his door.

  Buster and Wally hurried to it, then sat quietly, waiting for him to answer. “I’m digging you two already.”

  Wally wagged his tail, as if happy at the compliment. Buster remained silent, his eyes never leaving the door.

  Mason opened the door, surprised to see Jordan on the other side. His heart sped and anger rose inside him when he saw the bruise on Jordan’s face. He opened the screen door and let Jordan in.

  Jordan stopped short and stared at the two watchful dogs. “Are they friendly?”

  “They are.” Mason cupped Jordan’s face. “But what I want to know is who hit you.”

  Jordan pulled from Mason’s touch. “It was an accident.”

  Jordan walked stiffly as he moved farther inside the house. Did he have more injuries? What the hell had happened while Jordan was away?

  Mason kept his anger in check, but it wasn’t easy. “What happened, Jordan?”

  “I just came by to see if you wanted to have lunch.” Jordan hissed when Wally jumped up, placing his paws on Jordan’s chest. He staggered back, holding his chest as Wally returned to all fours.

  Mason narrowed his eyes and grabbed the hem of Jordan’s shirt. He lifted it before Jordan could stop him. His chest had a large bruise in the center.

  “I’m fine.” Jordan snatched his shirt from Mason’s grip and lowered it. “I told you it was an accident.”

  “Car accident?”

  “Just a misunderstanding.”

  Mason’s jaw clenched. Jordan was protecting his abuser, and that didn’t set well with Mason. “I thought we were friends.”

  He didn’t want to play that card, but Mason needed to know what took place when Jordan went back home.

  Jordan’s brows rose. “We are.”

  “Friends don’t shut friends out. Tell me what happened.” The dogs must’ve sensed Mason’s fury. They whimpered and Buster rubbed his head over Mason’s leg. He petted the German shepherd but kept his gaze locked on Jordan.

  Jordan took a seat on one of the stools at the counter. “Do you have an ice pack?”

  Mason grabbed a frozen bag of corn from the freezer and handed it over. Jordan winced as he pressed it against his chest. Mason waited patiently as the dogs curled up on the floor, watching them.

  He grabbed two beers from the fridge. “Why don’t we go sit outside?”

  Buster and Wally perked up as Jordan and Mason headed to the backyard. He’d bought chairs and placed them under the long overhang when he first moved in. They took a seat as the dogs raced around the yard.

  Jordan nodded. “Told you a dog would be a good fit. Two are even better.”

  “I think I’m already attached to them.” Mason handed a bottle to Jordan.

  “Thanks.” He took it, twisted the lid off, and swallowed a long gulp before burping.

  “Gonna leave me hanging?”

  Jordan cut a glance at Mason before staring at the dogs. Buster and Wally ran for a good minute before they trotted over to Mason and collapsed in the grass.

  “It’s my brother.”

  Mason wasn’t sure what to say. Jordan’s brother had beaten him up? Why?

  He listened to Jordan tell him about Michael, his aging parents, and how he’d had to go back home to help track Michael down. When Jordan had caught up to him, things had gotten violent.

  It had taken four cops to get Michael off him. Michael had kept calling Jordan the devil, and probably would’ve killed him if the police hadn’t shown up in time.

  Mason wasn’t sure what to say or do. If a stranger had attacked Jordan, he would’ve called in a favor and had the stranger dealt with.

  But it hadn’t been a stranger, so Mason just quietly listened.

  “So he’s in the hospital?”

  Jordan nodded.

  It was a tough situation all around, and Mason didn’t envy Jordan. “Just do me a favor,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “The next time you have to run back home, take me with you.”

  Jordan’s eyes widened slightly as his brows rose. “Why?”

  Mason set his bottle on the grass beside his chair. “Because I’ll be damned if I let you get hurt again.”

  Chapter Four


  Every free moment he had, Jordan spent with Mason. He’d told Mason about Michael, but he’d yet to tell him about Gary. Jordan wasn’t ready to tell Mason how it was his fault that Gary had died, because Jordan still refused to deal with it himself.

  They spent mornings walking Buster and Wally, and their evenings cooking and watching movies. The more time he spent with Mason, the more Jordan was falling for the guy.

  There was a part of Mason that was closed off, a part he didn’t share with Jordan. But then again, Jordan was keeping plenty to himself, too.

  Jordan stopped at the bakery, Tempting Treats, before he went to Mason’s that evening. He looked over the choices on display behind the counter, and decided to grab something for dessert. Mason was grilling steaks tonight, and Jordan couldn’t wait because steak was his favorite.

  “Can I help you?” the man behind the counter asked. He was slim, average height, and had the prettiest green eyes Jordan had ever seen, and the blondest hair.

  “I need something that’ll go with steak.”

  “Hmm.” The man walked to the display and looked it over. “I think strawberry shortcake would go great. We have them in individual cups.”

  Jordan’s mouth watered. “I’ll take two.” He noticed a glass jar filled with dog biscuits. “And some of those treats.”

  Buster and Wally deserved a snack after their dinner, as well. Jordan was glad he’d mentioned Mason needing a dog. Not only had Mason grown attached to them, but so had Jordan. Wally was his favorite, though he loved Buster to pieces. But Buster mostly stuck with Mason and, the black lab was constantly begging for Jordan’s attention.

  “Here you go.” The gentleman set the small bags on the counter and rang Jordan up. When Jordan paid, the man stuck out his hand. “I’m Lewis.”

  “Jordan.” He smiled and shook Lewis’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  He noticed a bruise on Lewis’s wrist. Lewis quickly pulled his hand away. “I hope you enjoy your dinner and dessert.”

  Jordan studied him for a moment before nodding. “Have a nice evening.”