by Tara Rose
If Mateo had an intimate evening going on, too bad. Blaine was going over there to find out who the hell Trace Coleman was, and why he wanted to get inside Mateo’s house to look for ghosts. Blaine didn’t have many friends, and he wasn’t about to let some snake-oil salesman take advantage of Mateo.
He decided to walk because he wanted to blow off some steam first. The night air was damp and warm, and it smelled like rain. If the weather here was anything like the weather back home, it would change every twenty minutes or so.
Blaine inhaled the unfamiliar scents, and listened to the song of insects. He remembered all this from when he’d gone to school in Denver, but he hadn’t had these experiences in Chicago. Even though he’d lived in a well-to-do neighborhood back home, he’d rarely walked outdoors at night. People simply didn’t.
It wasn’t an easy walk to Mystic Ridge Enterprises. The ground was hilly, and it was so humid he was damp with perspiration by the time he advanced on the ranch, twenty minutes later. He could hear voices off to the left, coming from the smattering of homes the ranch hands and their families lived in. Someone had built a fire, and he made out clusters of people gathered around it.
The occasional glow of a lit cigarette punctuated the soft laughter and easy conversation. Blaine stood still and watched them for a moment, wondering if perhaps Mateo was among the group. Jealousy reared its ugly head. Would he ever be able to relax that much?
If only all this shit back home was over. Then he could come up here in the evenings and hang out with Mateo and his ranch hands. And maybe, just maybe, there was a woman in this town who wouldn’t turn out to be a low life who hung out with drug dealers. And if she could find it in her heart to give him more than a passing nod, that would be a bonus.
He was about to walk over to the group to see if Mateo was with them when his phone rang. It was Mateo.
“Hey. Sorry I missed your calls earlier.”
“I’m outside.”
“What?” To say Mateo sounded surprised was an understatement.
“Can I come inside and talk to you? It’s kind of important.”
“Sure. Okay. Come on in. I’ll have someone bring you up.”
He didn’t sound thrilled that Blaine was there, convincing Blaine that his previous assumption was correct. The mystery woman was here. But this was important. He hadn’t been lying about that.
The front door opened, and a man dressed in jeans, wearing a cowboy hat, and holding a walkie-talkie greeted Blaine with a firm handshake. “I’m Zeke. I was dropping off some papers for Pedro when Mateo called me. I’ll show you up.”
Blaine followed the man through several hallways and then up a back staircase. He tried not to gawk, but the inside of the Alvarado house was like something out of a movie. He couldn’t really call it rustic, which was what he’d been expecting. It was more like New York chic combined with just enough of the Old West so you didn’t forget what state you were in.
“This is his wing. Gotta run.”
Wing? “Thanks, Zeke.” Mateo had his own wing?
Mateo opened the door before Blaine had a chance to knock, and gave him a droll look. His hair was a mess, he wore nothing but his boxers, and the unmistakable scent of sex hung about him like a cloud. Lucky guy. But who was this mystery girl?
“You said it was important.”
Blaine grinned. “Need any help in there?”
Mateo smiled, and a look of pure bliss crossed his face, but then he reined it back in just as quickly. How interesting. So, she was someone he had more than a passing interest in. Now Blaine’s curiosity was piqued, so he pushed past Mateo and crossed the threshold. “Do you know a guy named Trace Coleman? Says he’s a ghost hunter.”
“Blaine, you said it was important.”
“So you don’t know him?”
Mateo shook his head. “Never heard of him. Why?”
“He knows you. And he knew who I was. Told me he wants to investigate your house, and he wants to get inside others, too.”
Mateo sighed and walked over to a wall. He pushed the intercom button, and waited until a female voice answered. “Beth, sorry to bother you this late, but can you find out something about Trace Coleman? He’s supposed to be a ghost hunter.” He glanced at Blaine. “Is that what you said his name is? What else can you tell me about him?”
“Short, dark hair, cold blue eyes, drives a Mustang or maybe it was a Camaro. It was getting dark and I didn’t get a good look at the taillights as he sped away.”
“Did you catch all that, Beth?”
“Sure did. I’ll get right on it, Mateo.”
Mateo took his finger off the intercom and turned his attention back to Blaine. “Is that all? Because this really is not a good time.”
Blaine nodded toward the spiral staircase, where he assumed the mystery woman was hiding. “Who is she, Mateo?”
“We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
Blaine frowned. “Since when do you keep secrets from me?”
“What makes you think I have to keep her a secret?”
Blaine grinned. “I’ve known you since we were green kids, fresh out of high school. I can read your mind. Come on. You can tell me. I don’t know anyone here but you, so it’s safe. Who is she? You know, if you were a true friend, you’d share.”
It was an old joke, but tonight it didn’t look like Mateo was in the mood to relive their glory days. They’d both fantasized about sharing a woman in bed when they were in college, but had never been able to find one who would agree to it. Blaine wondered if Mateo remembered that, and whether he still had that particular fantasy.
“Keep your voice down.”
Blaine was about to respond, but stopped when Mateo turned around as a female voice floated from the top of the stairs. “Mateo, do you want to bring the chicken upstairs, or just the wine?”
Blaine raised his eyebrows. Before Mateo could speak again, a pair of tanned, shapely legs descended the stairs. Blaine followed them down to crimson toenails, and then back up again to a shirt that hung halfway to the knees of the sexy siren who was wearing it. Two of her could easily fit inside the garment, so Blaine assumed it was Mateo’s.
She poised on the last step, her pretty mouth frozen open. Blaine’s dick grew hard. He had no clue who she was, but she was fucking gorgeous. He’d always had a thing for dark-haired, dark-eyed beauties, and this girl was stunning.
As she descended the last step, Mateo stepped between Blaine and the woman, placing an arm across her shoulder in a touching gesture of protectiveness. Now Blaine’s curiosity was way beyond piqued. He’d never seen Mateo act this way with any woman.
“Blaine Peterson, Carma Mandanici.”
He frowned. “Carma, as in the stylist you go to, Carma?”
“One and the same,” he said.
“I didn’t realize…” Blaine stopped as he realized Carma not only looked embarrassed, she looked like she wanted to crawl under the coffee table and hide forever. What was up with that? So she was having sex with a client? What was the big deal? He moved toward her, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” Her hand was slightly cool and damp. Why was she so nervous about being caught here? He glanced at her left hand but didn’t a see ring.
“Too bad we can’t take care of my unruly hair here and now, instead of making me wait until Saturday.” Blaine knew he was being an obnoxious asshole, but he couldn’t stop staring at Carma. There was no way he could sit in a chair and let this girl cut his hair. Not without making a damn fool of himself the entire time, that is.
Carma smiled slightly, but clearly she was nonplussed and didn’t know how to react. She glanced at Mateo, as if waiting for direction. To say Mateo looked pissed off was an understatement. But it was more than jealousy he spotted in his friend’s eyes. This was something different. He was trying to protect Carma for some reason, but why?
“So how long have you and Mateo been dating?”
She made a sound, but no
words came out. Again, she glanced at Mateo, waiting for him to say something to fix this, and then suddenly Blaine understood. They weren’t dating. This was a first-time thing. Maybe even a one-time thing, but he didn’t think so. Not from the way Mateo still had his arm across her shoulder and stood slightly in front of her, barring Blaine from moving any closer.
“Did you say there was chicken? I love chicken.” He glanced at Mateo, who now looked as though he were contemplating murder. “Did you get take-out?”
“I made it,” she said, the pride evident in her smoky voice.
“Oh? May I have a taste?” He looked right into her eyes, and if she missed his double entendre, he’d eat one of Mateo’s jazz musician prints. The flash of pure lust in her eyes was quick, but it had been there. No doubt about it. Jackpot. But what to do about it? Clearly, Mateo was smitten. But was Carma? How long had this been festering beneath the surface for both of them? Was she completely off limits? He had to know.
Again, she glanced at Mateo, waiting for him to make the decision. Maybe she was in the lifestyle? She certainly behaved like a good subbie, letting her Dom take the initiative. But Mateo wasn’t. Had he finally found someone to help him explore his curiosity?
“One taste,” said Mateo. “And then Carma and I would like to return to our evening together.”
“Fair enough.” He followed them into the kitchen, admiring the way her ass moved under the shirt, and then watched her take the dish out of the fridge and spoon a generous helping onto a plate. As she reached above her head to put it in the microwave, he caught a glimpse of upper thigh, and his dick began to throb. The shirt hiked up to just shy of her ass cheeks, and Blaine couldn’t stop the fantasies from racing through his mind.
He imagined her spread-eagled on a cross as he flogged that delicious ass until she came. And then he’d bend her over with one arm, against the nearest piece of furniture, and fuck her silly until she came a couple more times.
Blaine took a seat at the counter because standing was suddenly difficult. The smell of roasting chicken and vegetables filled the kitchen as Mateo poured Blaine a glass of wine, then finished off the bottle by filling a glass for himself and one for Carma. Mateo took the seat across from Blaine and watched him.
Carma glanced from one man to the other, licking her lips. Was that from nervousness? He didn’t want her to think he was a total ass. The timer on the microwave went off, and again he was treated to the sight of her curvy legs as she took the dish out of the microwave. She placed it in front of him, then took a fork out of the drawer and handed that to him as well. She’d either been here before, or she was very comfortable in a kitchen.
The food practically melted in his mouth. “Wow. This is wonderful. What do you call it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really have a name for it. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”
“It’s fabulous.” He surveyed her looks again. “Italian?” Her skin had an olive tone to it.
“Sicilian, actually. Third generation, but I have family living there still.”
Intelligent, too. He could always tell by the way they chose their words and the look in their eyes. He preferred women who could hold up their end of a conversation. “Have you always lived in Passion Peak?”
She nodded.
Blaine glanced at Mateo again. “Did you two go to school together?”
“Carma was two grades behind me.”
“So, what took you so long to hook up with her?”
A flash of pain so intense that Blaine was taken aback passed across Mateo’s face. What the hell is going on? Mateo rose and dumped the rest of his wine in the sink. Carma looked like she was ready to cry. Blaine had clearly overstayed his welcome, in addition to saying the wrong thing to his friend. He suddenly felt like the redheaded stepchild, so he pushed the plate away and rose. “Thanks. That was really good. Guess it’s time to go.”
“Do you want to take some home with you?” Her voice shook, and he hated that. He hadn’t meant to upset either of them.
Mateo reached into a cabinet above him and took out a plastic container. He handed it to Carma with an apologetic look on his face, and then Blaine felt even worse. Mateo was apologizing for him.
She scooped the rest of his chicken and veggies into the container and handed it to him. He searched her pretty face, desperate to make her understand he hadn’t meant to be a jerk, but the only way to fix this was to say something, whether or not Mateo would approve.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’m really not this much of an asshole. Honestly, I’m not.” He glanced at his friend. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have barged in like this or teased you about how long you’ve known Carma. Clearly something else is going on here, and I walked into the middle of it. I just wanted to warn you about Trace Coleman.”
Mateo’s face was still set in a cross between anger and hurt. Blaine wished he knew what the hell was going on. “It’s cool.” His voice was clipped and short, with a dangerous undertone that told Blaine it was anything but cool.
“Who is Trace Coleman?” asked Carma.
Blaine gave her the short version.
“How odd.” She tilted her head as a faraway look filled her eyes. “Rowena said something about a ghost hunter trying to get into her house when she was remodeling it.”
Blaine blinked a few times. “When was this?”
“Oh, about three years ago. But she didn’t let him, of course. And as far as I know, he hasn’t been asking anyone else in town.”
Mateo’s gaze softened, but only a bit. “Have you met Van and Rowena Whitney yet?”
“No.”
“He played football in high school and was in the same grade as me. She grew up next door to Carma and they’re still best friends. They own a restored Queen Anne on Arapaho that Rowena’s great aunt left her.”
“Should we do something about this ghost hunter?”
“Let’s wait and see what Beth digs up first. No point in jumping the gun if there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Sounds like a solid plan. Well, I guess I should get home now. Thanks again for the food.” He started to turn around, but Carma’s voice stopped him.
“How long have you two been friends now? You knew each other in college, right?”
Blaine turned to find she’d asked Mateo the question. Mateo nodded. “Yes. We met our freshman year at Colorado State University.”
“I’ve known Annalise and Rowena my entire life.” Her voice was quiet, but it held a world of emotion. “If this happened with one of them, I wouldn’t let them go without clearing it up first. Best friends are hard to find, and even more difficult to keep.” She cut her glance toward Blaine for a second. “And the last thing in the world I want to do is become the cause of any strife between you two.”
Blaine didn’t know who Annalise was, but he watched, fascinated, as a change came over Mateo’s face at her words. Who was this woman? Did she have any idea how far under Mateo’s skin she’d already crawled?
The anger finally left Mateo’s face and he shook Blaine’s hand. “I know you didn’t mean any harm.” He glanced at Carma. “Thank you.” His gaze roamed over her scantily clad body. “You should get dressed, and I’ll do the same. I’m not sure Blaine has as much willpower as I do.”
Her eyes grew wide with surprise, and then a fierce blush crept up her neck, but she was smiling. “I’ll be right down, then.”
Blaine’s dick jumped again as fresh images raced through his mind. The urge to follow her upstairs was strong. As soon as he heard her footfalls on the steps, Mateo addressed him. “Be careful. She’s not in the lifestyle, and she shared something with me today about her past. It’s not pretty.”
Blaine held up his hands. “Understood. You really care about this girl, don’t you?”
“More than I should. I have no clue where this is going, or even if it’s going anywhere after tonight, but I don’t want to see her hurt again.”
“So, what happened to her?”
Blaine nodded, wondering why the hell he hadn’t just gone back to his lonely condo. What the fuck had he just gotten himself into here?
Chapter Twelve
Carma put her clothes back on, but realized she’d left her bag downstairs. She went into Mateo’s bathroom and did the best she could with her hair by using her fingers to comb it, but her makeup wasn’t up here. She looked like she’d just crawled out of bed. That thought forced up a laugh. She had just crawled out of bed. When she heard movement, she came out of the bathroom. Mateo held up her bag, grinning.
“Thank you. I’m a mess.”
He pulled her into his arms. “No, you’re not. You’re gorgeous, but Blaine was about to have you for dessert.” He lightly smacked her ass. “So fix whatever you think needs fixing and get down there, but watch what you say. He’s a snake charmer.”
She frowned. “Are you worried?”
“A bit.”
She couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not. “Mateo, I’m not like that.”
“I know you’re not, but he is.”
Carma shook her head because she didn’t know what to say. Clearly Blaine and Mateo had some kind of a history where women were concerned.
“Yes, Carma, he is.”
He’d mistaken her gesture for denial, but she let him believe that because her thoughts were all mixed up and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Blaine was gorgeous, but Carma could barely process what had happened tonight between her and Mateo. The last thing she needed was to have Blaine trying to seduce her as well.
“And if you’re not careful, he’ll convince you to have sex with both of us at the same time.”
She stared at him, convinced now that he had to be teasing her. “Have you ever done that? Shared a woman in bed, I mean.”