by Zoe Chant
Mason’s deep laugh sent a shiver down her spine.
“You do too, but I’m definitely sleeping naked tonight – and so are you.”
Charity giggled as Mason sat up suddenly, pulling her shirt away from her shoulders and unhooking her bra, tossing them both off the edge of the bed.
When she was naked, he paused and looked down at her, taking her in from top to toe.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured when he at last met her eyes. “How the hell did I get so lucky?”
“I think that’s my line,” Charity replied as she watched him begin to unbutton his shirt. “I must’ve been extra good in a past life to get you in this one.”
Mason laughed as he shucked off his pants, before folding them over a chair in the corner. “Seems like you might have some karma points stored up then,” he said, crossing the room and lying down next to her on the bed. “So you can be just a little bit wicked in this one.”
“More than just a little, I hope,” Charity said, laughing, as she snuggled up next to Mason’s side, letting his warmth flow over her, safe and calm in his arms.
Chapter Eleven
Mason
The sun was well and truly up when Mason awoke the next morning. Perhaps that was for the best, he decided – it would give him some time to consider how to approach things with his uncle and cousins. He especially wanted some time to think about how he’d bring up the thing that had been nagging at him since Charity had shown him the lion paw prints leading away from her diner the evening before.
Looking across at where Charity was still sleeping peacefully by his side, Mason leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. She barely stirred, and Mason decided to leave her sleeping. She looked so peaceful that he couldn’t bear to wake her.
Slipping out of bed, Mason put on an old t-shirt and pair of sweatpants, opened the door and padded out to the living area of the house. It was large and open-plan, mainly tiled, and with rugs covering the floor. It had been built during his grandparents’ generation, but it was built to last, and they almost never had to do any repairs to the place. Mason’s paternal grandfather, as well as his skill as a rancher, had been a master carpenter, and almost all the furniture in the house had been made by his hand.
There was something comforting in the idea, Mason thought – lions could be overly-concerned with family sometimes, but this was a solid and tangible link to the past, and he liked sitting in the chairs knowing that they were the same ones his grandparents and parents had sat in – and that his own children would one day do the same.
Going into the kitchen, Mason checked the cupboards and fridge. As usual, there were plenty of eggs, bacon, frijoles, tortillas and chili – everything Mason needed to make breakfast burritos.
Turning on the stove, he cracked the eggs into a pan, chopping and adding the other ingredients as he went, before folding them over and scooping them out onto the tortillas he’d been warming. Mason wasn’t the world’s most fancy chef, but it’d taste good.
Hearing a noise behind him, Mason turned to see Charity emerging from the hall, scratching a hand through her messy dark red hair, and wearing one of his old t-shirts – it stopped mid-thigh on her, and Mason had to quickly pull his eyes back up to her face, or risk getting distracted from their breakfast.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said, gently teasing. “Why don’t you sit down? Need any coffee?”
Charity yawned, before seating herself at the table. “You have no idea how good coffee sounds right now.” She lifted her head slightly and sniffed the air. “Did you cook breakfast?”
“Ta-da,” Mason said, presenting the burrito to her. “I know it’s not the most amazing thing in the world, especially to an accomplished chef like yourself, but hopefully it’ll do.”
“This looks amazing,” Charity said, before she took a bite. “It is amazing. If you ever get sick of being sheriff I’m pretty sure I can find some use for you at my place.”
Mason laughed. “Don’t tempt me. Or you’re going to find yourself with the world’s messiest fry cook on your hands.”
He set a cup of freshly-brewed coffee down in front of her, before sitting down to eat his own breakfast. They were both ravenous, and it wasn’t until there wasn’t a single crumb left on their plates that they looked up again, finally feeling ready to deal with the problems the day before had thrown up.
“What do you think you’ll do?” Charity asked after a moment’s silence, sipping on her coffee.
“I told my contacts yesterday to call me on my cell if they wanted to catch me today,” Mason said. “I didn’t want to risk missing the message, or any of the deputies who might be… well, let’s say ‘friendly’ toward George Atwood intercepting them. If I haven’t heard back in an hour or so, I’ll give them another call. Heath knows to call me the second he finds anything out.”
Mason sighed, running a hand over his face. He knew that the other thing – the thing he hadn’t felt ready to think about yesterday – could no longer be put off. “But Charity, there’s something else,” he continued after a moment. “I told you yesterday that the prints outside your diner were lion prints. It’s been troubling me. You see, I don’t think there’re any lion shifter members of the Reapers. And Heath tells me there’re no lion shifters on the base he’s stationed at.”
Charity looked up at him from over her mug of coffee, blinking. “What does that mean?”
Mason grimaced. “As much as I don’t want it to, I think it must mean that –”
“Mason?”
Before he could put a voice to the dark suspicions he’d been carrying, Mason was interrupted by the sound of Lincoln’s voice behind him. Standing, he turned to see his uncle standing in the doorway, Casey and Joe standing behind him. He watched as three pairs of eyes all traveled to where Charity was sitting at the table, still holding her coffee.
Lincoln looked a little uneasy, but it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything in front of someone he didn’t know.
“And this is…?” he finally asked, coming the whole way into the room.
“This is Charity,” Mason said, watching his uncle carefully. “My mate.”
Lincoln’s eyes flicked up to his, and for a moment, there was silence in the room. Mason felt himself tensing. He didn’t want to fight about this, but if Lincoln was determined…
“It's great to meet you, Charity.” It was Joe who finally spoke first, crossing the room and reaching across the table to extend a hand toward her. “Mason’s mentioned you, and I knew you had to be something special in order to catch his eye. Seems like I was right.”
Mason watched as Charity, clearly able to sense the tension in the room, reached out to take Joe’s hand. “Thank you,” she said, her voice clear and strong. “Mason’s told me about you. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Mason could feel his admiration for Charity growing by the second. He’d already known she was special – but now, even in a room with four nervy lion shifters, she wasn’t backing down.
Lincoln seemed to be watching her carefully as she shook Joe’s hand, smiling at him. Mason could see he was thinking quickly, gauging Charity’s reactions and attitudes.
Mason held his breath. He already knew he didn’t care what his uncle had to say, and that he was sticking with Charity no matter what, but that didn’t mean he relished the thought of fighting with his uncle over it.
In the end, he realized he needn’t have worried.
As he’d always known, no one could fail to see how special Charity was.
“Charity,” his uncle finally said, before he approached the table. “Welcome to the ranch. It’s so good to have you here. I’m Mason’s uncle, Lincoln.”
Charity accepted his extended hand without any hesitation. “Thank you. It’s so good to meet you.”
As Charity and Lincoln continued to chat by the table, Mason’s gaze drifted to Joe’s face. His cousin gave him a slight nod, which Mason returned gratefully. Joe might not have
spoken much, but when he did it always had an impact – and now, just when he’d needed to, he’d done just the right thing in his kindness to Charity. Mason was grateful.
But there was still one last issue.
A big issue.
Pulling in a breath, Mason finally turned to look at his youngest cousin, Casey.
Casey was standing, his fists clenched, shoulders tense, staring down at the floor. Mason couldn’t see his face, but he was willing to bet that his expression was anything but friendly.
Well, it’s going to get a lot worse than that, Mason thought to himself. For the first time, he allowed the true extent of his anger toward his cousin to bubble up in his chest. His aunt might baby him and the rest of the pride still treat him like he was a child, but Mason was done cutting Casey any slack. He was almost eighteen now, and old enough to understand that actions had consequences. And if he’d done what Mason suspected he had…
All right, slow down, he told himself. He’d at least give Casey a chance first. And, he reminded himself, he didn’t know there weren’t any other lion shifters around besides them.
“Casey,” Lincoln said, breaking into Mason’s thoughts. “Aren’t you going to come here and introduce yourself?”
For a long moment, Casey didn’t move. When he finally did raise his face, Mason was shocked. He’d turned red as a beet – and his eyes were filled with tears.
“Casey?” Lincoln’s voice was uncertain. “What’s the matter?”
“I think I know,” Mason broke in. Anger and sympathy fought in his chest. He was utterly furious with Casey, but on seeing his cousin’s face and the obvious remorse in his eyes, he found it hard not to at least feel a little pity for him.
Casey turned his eyes to Mason, but he said nothing, his expression pleading.
“Don’t think that’s going to work on me,” Mason said gruffly. “Tell me straight – have I guessed correctly?”
“Mason, what the hell are you talking about?” Lincoln demanded. He turned to his son. “Casey, what’s going on here?”
“Dad, Mason…” Casey started, his voice quiet and trembling. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know…”
“You didn’t know?” Mason asked, his anger flaring up. “How could you not know? What you mean is you didn’t think.” He advanced on his cousin, fists balled. “Have you forgotten, Casey, that even if Charity weren’t my mate, that I’m the sheriff of this county? If you'd thought for even one second, you would’ve realized –”
“Mason,” Charity said, her voice quiet. “I’m sure you and Casey might know what you’re talking about, but I think the rest of us might need to have it explained. Though I’m beginning to get an idea.”
Charity’s words reminded Mason that Joe and Lincoln were still completely in the dark about everything. He’d need to explain – or better yet, have Casey explain.
“Sit down,” he said to his cousin. “You’re going to tell everyone everything. One step at a time.”
Casey, looking utterly miserable but nodding, sat down at the table, followed by Joe and Lincoln. Lincoln still looked half angry, half mystified, but he seemed willing enough to be quiet while he discovered what this was all about. Mason sat himself down next to Charity, crossing his arms across his chest. “Start at the beginning,” he told Casey.
Casey took a long, shaky breath. “Before I start, I just want to say I’m really sorry –” he began.
“Never mind that,” Mason cut him off. “You can say your sorries later. For now, just explain yourself.”
Biting his lip, Casey nodded. “All right.” He looked up, before seeing the expressions that surrounded him at the table and quickly looked down again. “I… I went to see the Reapers the other day. I didn’t know then what they… if they’d…” Casey cut himself off, swallowing. “I just wanted to let them know that I wasn’t like Mason,” he finally said, voice quiet. “That I thought shifter bonds were more important than anything, and I didn’t think it was right that he was helping humans to try to put them in jail.”
Mason glanced up at his uncle as Casey stopped, swallowing back tears. His uncle’s face was grave, but otherwise unreadable.
“Anyway, they told me they were grateful I came,” Casey continued after a moment. “They said I could help them with something. At first, I thought it was just speaking to you, trying to get you to see that they just wanted to live here. I didn’t know until later what they really wanted. And then it was too late.”
Mason had to restrain himself from interrupting.
It was never too late, he wanted to shout at Casey. You could have come to me at any time. You didn’t need to leave the guns at the diner. You could have told me. But he forced himself to stay quiet, waiting to hear the rest of Casey’s confession.
“They asked me – they told me if I really wanted to help, then I’d deliver something for them. Something that would make Mason see that his mate wasn’t who he thought she was, and that would get her out of the way so they could buy her diner. That’s all I thought it was. It wasn’t until later I realized they also wanted to make Mason look bad – to try to get him in trouble too.”
Mason had to use all his strength to hold himself back. “Casey,” he said, hearing the anger in his own voice. “Can you even begin to understand the seriousness of what you’ve done? Do you even know what was in that crate?”
Casey nodded miserably. “I didn’t think about it at first – I just thought… I was helping them. It wasn’t until later when I thought it all through, and realized how much trouble this could cause, not just for you but for your mate, that I started to realize how bad it was. I couldn’t sleep all last night. I just lay awake wondering… wondering how I was going to tell you.”
“Wait a moment,” Lincoln broke in. “A crate? What was in the crate?”
“Drugs,” Mason said. “Crystal meth. I’m still not sure from where, but if Charity had been arrested for having it in her diner, the consequences could have been horrific. Not to mention that I would most likely have had to resign my position as sheriff – I couldn’t help but be implicated.” He turned to look at Casey. “How could you possibly have thought what you were doing was right?”
“I told you, at first, they made it seem like no big deal,” Casey argued. “They made it just seem like… I don’t know, a game, I guess. It was only later I realized how terrible it was. After I got back I told them it was done, and they started laughing, saying that you’d have to resign now for sure, even if Charity wasn’t charged. And then… the leader of the group, Jessup, I think his name is. He turned to me, and suddenly he wasn’t joking around anymore. He… he told me he’d kill me if I said anything. And I believed him.”
There was a long silence at the table as Casey finished speaking. It was Mason who finally broke it.
“You’re going to have to give evidence about this,” he said. “You want to truly make this right, you’re going to have to come clean when I finally arrest this Jessup son of a bitch. And I can’t make any promises about any kind of a deal. I can put in a good word, make it clear you’ll co-operate. But beyond that?” Mason shook his head. “That’s it.”
Casey bowed his head. He didn’t say or do anything to indicate he’d heard what Mason had said, but Mason knew it’d hit home. For the first time, it was beyond anyone’s ability to help him. Being the baby of the pride wasn’t going to get him out of this.
“Casey. Just what the hell were you thinking?” Lincoln’s voice sounded strained. “I raised you better than that, didn’t I? How could you have done this?”
“I'm sorry, Dad,” Casey whispered. “I… I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking.” He looked up. “But I promise, I’ll do whatever I can to make this right. I’ll do whatever Mason says. I’ll tell the cops everything. I don’t care what the Reapers threaten to do – I’ll do whatever I have to.”
Mason nodded. His anger at Casey was still simmering in his chest, most especially due to the danger he’d
placed Charity in. Threats to his mate were not something he could forgive easily. But he knew that for all his stupidity and thoughtlessness, Casey wasn’t a bad kid. He needed a firm hand and he’d definitely have to take some punishment for what he’d done, but Mason believed he was truly sorry once he’d realized the full implications of his actions.
“All right,” he said at last. “It seems like I might have some phone calls to make. Casey, you better get ready to make good on your promises.”
Casey didn’t answer, and Mason stood up, turning away before heading down the hall to his room to go find his cell phone. He stopped when he heard Charity’s voice behind him.
“Mason.”
She caught him up, and together they walked down toward his room.
“Don’t be too hard on him, Mason,” she whispered as they walked. “He’s just a kid.”
Mason exhaled, trying to release some of the tension he felt. “He’s not a kid anymore, Charity. And he put you in danger. I can’t have that, even if he is my cousin.”
Charity nodded. “I understand how you feel, but he’s agreed to try to put things right. I don’t want you to fight with your family on my account. I couldn’t stand being the source of tension between you. Will you try to forgive him, even if it’s just as a favor to me?”
Reaching his bedroom door, Mason pulled it open. Charity followed him inside. Once they were alone together he lifted his hand, stroking it over her cheek.
“You’re too tender-hearted by far, Charity Crawford,” he said, looking into her deep blue eyes. “You don’t even know him, and he tried to hurt you. And yet…”
“And yet, he’s a member of your family. And mine.”
Charity looked him steadily in the eye as she said it.
There was nothing Mason could really say to that, so instead, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss.
Chapter Twelve
Charity
Mason’s expression was serious when he pulled back from the kiss.