by Ann Lister
Her eyes scanned the marred skin on Mason’s arm. “Does that area hurt like you described?” she asked.
“Not this particular spot, but I have to keep all of it covered up whenever I’m outdoors, which is why I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt even though it’s hot outside,” he explained. “I’m not supposed to expose the skin to any sun for quite a while.”
“Mason, part of the reason I was referred to you by your doctors for therapy was because I’ve recovered from burns the same as you are now,” she stated.
The sudden admission surprised him, and he had to take a minute to absorb what she’d said. His eyes canvassed her body sitting in her chair opposite him on the couch. She wore a long-sleeved cream colored blouse with navy slacks and one leg was draped over the top of the other. “You don’t have any visible scars,” he commented after several silent seconds.
“For the most part, neither do you,” she countered.
“Point taken,” he replied. His eyes met hers again. “How bad?”
“Second and third degree burns on my back and the backs of my legs,” she answered. “Recovery took a while, but I’m doing good now—and you will too, soon enough. What I can tell you with complete certainty is healing from the burns is one thing, but restoring your body image is going to take work, Mason. I sometimes think repairing the body image in a man is worse than it is for a woman since men tend to place so much importance on how manly their appearance is. Anything that they feel diminishes their male ego can be devastating.”
“People, in general, tend to judge others on their outside appearance,” Mason said quietly. “It’s human nature.”
“Do you feel Tessler is like that?” she asked. “Is that what you’re worried about, that he’ll judge you on how you look?”
Mason shook his head. “I’d like to think Tessler is a better man than that, but I’d be lying if I said I’d never looked at someone myself who was disfigured in some way and didn’t feel sorry for them. I don’t want people to look at me like that. I don’t want people to treat me differently, and I sure as fuck don’t want their pity.”
Mason exhaled so loudly it sounded like a growl.
“What’s going through your head right now, Mason?” she asked.
He took several deep breaths to try and calm himself, but it didn’t do much good. He was still tense. “I’m fucking angry that I’m stuck in this body for the rest of my life, and no amount of surgeries will ever fully remove the damage done to my skin. It’s a struggle to imagine anyone ever finding me ...”
“Finding you … attractive?”
Jesus, Mason felt the stinging at his eyes. He dropped his gaze to his lap before tears started to spill. This fucking sucked. He’d never lacked confidence in anything he did, or especially in himself, and now, everything seemed uncertain. He couldn’t even depend on his own body to work as it once did and wasn’t sure it ever would again. He wasn’t the same man as he was before the fire. How could he be? God knows, he certainly didn’t look the same.
He pressed his fingers into his eye sockets. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Mason, look at me,” she urged, and then waited for his eyes to lift and settle on her again. “We’re going to work on all of this, okay? One step at a time though. You’re making progress physically, and the rest is all going to gradually fall into place as your confidence comes back.”
Mason stood up from his spot on the couch, and the therapist followed him to the door of her office. “Put your trust in me,” she said and gently patted him on the back, “and in a couple of months, you’re going to feel like a brand new man.”
“I hope you’re right about that,” he said.
She smiled at him and offered a slight wave. “I’ll see you next week, same time.”
Chapter Ten
Mason was emotionally drained after his therapy session and wanted to go home and rest, but he’d promised Fizzbo and Victor he’d put in a few hours at the Ventura Security offices and that’s what he’d do. If he wanted them to take his recovery seriously, then Mason needed to show them he was truly committed to being back at work—even if it was just time spent in the office answering the phone and shuffling papers. He’d much rather be out in the field working a security job, but for now he’d be happy to sit behind a desk. Involving himself with the guys would be his reward after such a mentally difficult day.
He walked through the door to the office and was instantly embraced one at a time by Victor, Fizzbo, and Zac. Even Max was there to greet him. The camaraderie in the room was overwhelming, and Mason felt a little dizzy on his feet.
“Jesus, talk about the welcome wagon,” Mason said with a laugh. The grin on his face was so big it was making his cheeks ache.
“We heard you were coming in today and wanted to say hello,” Zac offered as he looped a muscled arm around Mason’s neck and pulled him in for a hug. “I missed my partner.”
“Trust me, you have no idea how much I miss working with all of you,” Mason stated. “I was losing my goddamned mind staring at the four walls of my apartment. You guys do realize I’ve been working in the office a few hours every other day doing paperwork for over a week, right? This isn’t the first time I’ve been back.”
“We know that,” Zac said. “You just happened to time it right today so we could all be here to say hello.”
“Yeah, no way could we miss an opportunity to bust your balls as one happy, unified group,” Max said.
Victor pointed to an empty desk and even rushed over to pull out the chair for him. “You look like you’re improving every time I see you walk into this office,” Victor said.
“I’ve been working really hard with the physical therapist on that,” Mason confirmed and sat down in the leather swivel chair. “I’ll be running around sooner than you think.”
“Is that what the doctor is saying, or your own personal diagnosis?” Fizzbo asked.
Mason grinned. “I’m on a mission now, and failure is not an option,” he said. “I want my old life back. I’m ready.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely time we had you back with us,” Max said. “Even if it means I lose some of my status with the team.”
“We’re all equal here, and you know it,” Zac added.
“That’s right,” Victor said. “You all add something to the team.”
“Did I completely miss the guy you hired to fill in for Fizzbo when he was away? I haven’t seen him once since I’ve been back,” Mason questioned Victor.
“Ingram,” Victor answered a little too quickly and with a bit too much excitement. Then he tried to hide his grin by shifting his focus on sliding one muscled thigh up onto the corner of Mason’s desk to sit. “First name is Stephen.”
Mason hadn’t missed Victor’s grin, and after a quick sweep of the other guys in the room, neither had they. It wasn’t to say Victor never smiled, but showing that kind of response over a guy? That was unheard of. In fact, all the years he’d known Victor, he still wasn’t sure if Victor had a special someone in his private life. Did Victor even have a life outside of Ventura Security?
“Okay, so is Ingram still working here, or has he moved on to another agency?” Mason asked.
“Kensey and I got back from vacation early last week,” Fizzbo explained, “and Victor has decided to keep Ingram on staff indefinitely. Right, boss?”
“It makes sense to have an extra body available until we get you back full-time,” Victor said to Mason.
“That sounds logical,” Mason replied. “So, where is Ingram now?”
“We sent him out to get our lunch,” Zac offered. “You know, new guy and all; he gets to run our errands.”
Victor glanced at his watch and said, “He should be back any minute.”
Again, it was what wasn’t being said by Victor that had Mason’s interest piqued. He’d never seen his boss act so … cagey before. Something was definitely up with him, and Mason would bet it had everything to do with Ingram, b
ut now clearly wasn’t the time to press him on the issue. Instead, Mason decided to switch the topic of conversation.
“What else is going on?” Mason asked the guys. “Any new cases? Are the bands anywhere near ready to head out on another tour?”
“Well, the only big news we have is Kensey’s case is going to trial soon,” Fizzbo stated.
“Wow, that seems quick,” Mason speculated.
Fizzbo shook his head. “No, not really,” he said. “You’ve been out of commission longer than you think.”
“I guess so,” Mason agreed. “It feels like my head has been in a fog for months now.”
“Time sure has a way of slipping by us,” Zac added.
“As for Black Ice and Ivory Tower, they’re in negotiations to do a charity concert series last I heard,” Victor announced. “The proceeds would go to a few LGBTQ teen centers.”
“Alex Metcalf does a lot for some of the charities that support gay teens,” Zac added. “I’m not surprised to hear they’ll be doing a special series of shows to help out the centers.”
“Nothing’s been confirmed yet,” Victor said. “Just all in the talking stages for now with quite a few bands interested in taking part from what I’ve been told. I even heard the Skull Blasters are talking to the promoters for a spot on the roster.”
Mason was just about to ask Victor another question when the door to the office swung open and a man stepped inside juggling four paper bags in his arms.
“Ahhhh, lunch!” Zac announced and took two wide strides to help the guy holding them.
Fizzbo was quick to remove a bag from the man, who Mason assumed was Ingram. Judging by the heat creeping up Victor’s neck from the sudden presence of this guy, Mason was positive his assumption was correct as his eyes bounced back to the man currently freeing up his arms from everyone’s lunch.
Dressed in tight, black jeans, boots, a black motorcycle jacket, and dark sunglasses, this guy was giving off vibes of self-confidence like heat vapors on an Arizona highway in August. The expression “sex on a stick” would certainly apply to him, and even though Mason’s brain was all wrapped up in thoughts of Tessler, it didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the man standing before him now.
“How about some introductions?” Mason suggested from where he sat.
Victor stood up from Mason’s desk and straightened to his full height. “Of course,” he said. “Mason, this is Stephen Ingram.”
Across the room, Ingram removed his sunglasses while walked over towards Mason and extended his arm. The gentle smile on his face belied his hard edges. “Nice to meet you, Mason,” Ingram stated and firmly shook Mason’s hand. “I’ve heard so many stories about you, I feel like we’ve already met.”
The strength of Ingram’s grip made the knuckles of Mason’s own hand ache a bit, but what made him nearly choke was Ingram’s youthful blue-gray eyes staring back at him. He couldn’t be more than twenty-five or twenty-six, and damn, between Tessler and now Ingram, Mason was starting to feel like he was a hundred fucking years old.
“Well then, I feel at a disadvantage because I’ve heard squat about you,” Mason said and chuckled.
“We’ll have to see about changing that for you,” Ingram said as his grin grew wide. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“I’m looking forward to working … Period,” Mason grumbled.
The sudden feeling of odd man out came crashing down around Mason. The team had reorganized while he was home recovering, and how could they not? Life and work went on, right? While Mason was struggling in PT to push through the pain, they’d all been busy establishing a camaraderie between them that didn’t necessarily include Mason. What if Victor decided he’d rather have Ingram’s youth and physical health working at the agency over him? Not to mention, there was an obvious attraction between Victor and Ingram, so where did all of that leave Mason?
Perhaps out in the fucking cold.
A beat later, Ingram’s eyes met Victor’s silent gaze, and the heat behind the exchange between the two men nearly stole the breath right from Mason’s lungs. It couldn’t have lasted more than the briefest of seconds before Victor collected his sandwich from one of the bags and then disappeared into his office to eat alone, but the electric energy left behind in his wake was almost kinetic. The rest of the guys seemed unaffected as they grabbed seats around the cluttered desks and began to eat. Zac handed Mason a wrapped sandwich and a bottle of water, then took a seat beside him.
Mason quietly watched the easy way Ingram fit in with the group and listened to their steady banter about work and life. He laughed when the others did, but his unresolved questions remained. It wasn’t until much later when Zac walked Mason out to catch his ride home from the car service that he was finally able to ask the million dollar question.
“What the fuck is up with Victor and Ingram?”
“What’d you mean?” Zac answered.
“Are they banging uglies, or what?” Mason questioned.
Zac laughed at the way Mason phrased his question. “I don’t know, man, and I’m not willing to risk my job to ask about it either.”
“You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed,” Mason scoffed.
“Didn’t say that,” Zac replied. “We’ve all been wondering about them, but no one dares to point out the elephant in the room.”
“Jesus, there was fucking smoke coming off of those two from nothing more than a passing glance,” Mason added.
“I know. We’ve all see it happen,” Zac agreed.
“How long has that been going on?” Mason questioned.
“Not sure I remember when I first noticed it,” Zac explained. “But it’s been a few weeks though.”
“I think this might be the first time I’ve seen Victor show an obvious interest in anyone. He’s always so tuned in to work-related shit; I wasn’t sure he had it in him to have an actual social life.”
Zac faced Mason on the sidewalk. “I could say the same thing about you, too, you know,” Zac said. “I’ve known you for years, and not once have I seen you with anyone or even heard you talk about hooking up with someone.”
“Yeah, about that,” Mason said with a grin.
“What? Did you finally get with someone, or have you been secretly married with kids all these years?”
Mason laughed at that. “No wife or kids, but there is a guy I’m interested in,” Mason offered.
“Hmmm, a dude you say?” Mason nodded his head in agreement, and Zac rubbed at his face to hide his grin. “Wow, I have to say I did not see that coming,” he said. “I had no clue you liked dick.”
Mason gave Zac a friendly shove on the shoulder. “I’m pretty fucking sure at one point after we’d downed a few beers I mentioned I went both ways, Zac.”
“Both ways? You did not tell me this,” Zac said in a teasing tone, “and I definitely would have remembered that piece of information.”
“Well, whatever,” Mason grumbled. “I like dick, and on a rare occasion, I’ve gone for … the other white meat.”
“I think that’s what the foodies call pork, and in my circles, that could also be another reference to cock.” Zac laughed at his own statement. “And that, my friend, tells me you don’t eat a lot of the other white meat, do you?”
Mason scoffed at Zac’s candor. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a woman.”
Zac slapped Mason on the back and cheered. “Well, then. Welcome to the home team!”
“You’re a very twisted individual,” Mason said.
“So I’ve been told—repeatedly, by Ben and numerous others, and I’m comfortable with that.” Zac admitted. “I’m proud to be amongst the twisted.”
A large SUV pulled up to the curb, and Mason checked out the driver. “This is my ride,” Mason said to Zac.
“You know, I would’ve been happy to give you a lift home,” Zac said.
“I’m hoping soon enough I’ll be cleared to drive my own ass around and not need a driver at all,
” Mason said and blew out a breath. “But I thank you for the offer.”
“You’re welcome,” Zac answered. “We’ll see you back here tomorrow?”
“That’s the plan,” Mason said. “Victor wants to ease me back into a two-day-a-week schedule, but what the fuck for? I’ve been gone far too long. If I take much longer to come back to work, someone like Ingram is gonna take my job.”
Zac pulled Mason into a hug and patted him on the back. “You don’t ever have to worry about Ingram stealing your job,” he said. “No way in hell we’d let Victor cut you loose.”
“That’s what you say,” Mason said as he opened up the rear door of the vehicle. “Last time I checked, Victor owned the company, and he can hire or fire anyone he wants.”
“You just worry about getting healthy,” Zac said as Mason slid up into the backseat of the big Suburban and shut the door.
“I’ll see you later,” Mason said and offered Zac a quick wave before the SUV pulled back out into traffic.
Chapter Eleven
The first stop he made after leaving the Key West airport in his rental Jeep was to see Marcus at the Hemingway Museum. He found a spot to park in the visitor’s lot, then made the short walk to the employee entrance at the back of the sprawling estate. Once inside, he managed to catch Marcus just as he was hurrying from his office to give another tour of the property to a group of visiting authors.
“Hey you,” Marcus said with a smile so warm and genuine it could have lit the room with light.
Tessler smiled back while he appraised the dark, unruly curls on Marcus’s head—curls he had vast memories of clutching when Marcus was on his knees. Now, when he thought of tangling his fingers in a man’s hair, he pictured short spikes of dirty-blond hair that tickled his palm when they kissed and belonged to Mason. That damn kiss was never far from his mind. Even now, after how many days? Incredible how that one moment had marked him so and made as much of an impact as it did.
Marcus’s hand gripped the back of Tessler’s neck and pulled him to his chest. “You look tired,” he whispered against Tessler’s temple, “and you still haven’t given me a proper hello.”