Chapter Fourteen

Wes watched as Shane moved about the kitchen while he made breakfast for them the next morning, with an ease and familiarity that had Wes wanting things that would never be in his cards. The muscles in Shane’s bare back flexed and contracted as he chopped and stirred. The massive horse tattoo shifted, giving the impression that it was alive and racing across his smooth skin.

Shane looked over his shoulder, a cheeky grin peeking out from under the curtain of his long bangs, as though he’d read Wes’s thoughts. He plated their omelets and set them on the island. Shane sat down next to him and pressed his thigh to Wes’s.

Wes was growing to love mornings like this. The domesticity of him and Shane sharing space together, falling into a routine that complemented each other, and though he’d known peace living back at Haverstall again, he hadn’t realized there’d been something missing still.

Until Shane Castle unapologetically barged into his life.

“Dig in,” Shane said before shoveling a mouthful of the tantalizing smelling breakfast into his mouth.

“Mmm . . . This is good. Thank you.” Wes dug in for another forkful.

A faint blush rose on Shane’s cheeks. He nudged his shoulder against Wes’s.

Halfway through their meal, when the sun shone through the wide kitchen window and highlighted the blond streaks in Shane’s long dark locks, Wes’s phone rang. It was sitting on the island in front of them, so there was no way he could hide the name on the display from Shane. Who raised his eyebrows while looking expectantly at Wes.

Wes reached for his phone with every intention of letting it go to voicemail so he could deal with it later. In private. But Shane beat him to it, tapping the accept call button.

“Hey, girl,” Shane greeted with an over-the-top level of enthusiasm. “How’s your vacation?”

Scowling at Shane, who only smirked back at him, Wes turned on the speaker so he could hear the conversation first-hand.

“What the hell, Shane?” Sonia snapped. The vehemence in her voice had Wes raising his eyebrows. “Did you seriously think I could do that?”

Shane put his fork down with a sigh and leaned forward.

“Of course, I didn’t.” Indignation rang clear in his voice as leveled a dark look at Wes, which Wes ignored. He would question her again if that’s where the crumbs led. “You know I’d never believe that for a second.”

“Good, because you know that’s bullshit.”

“ I know that. But what were they supposed to think when Wes traced the message to your address?”

“Allegedly.” Sonia’s huff echoed down the line, but her tone softened. “I don’t even know how that’s possible. Not to mention, I’m not even at home. I’m in Barbados with my girlfriends. What do they think? I’m going to take a twenty-plus-hour round trip just to send an email from home?”

“I know, I know.” Shane sounded like a kid sulking at being reprimanded by his schoolteacher. He sighed and his voice was brighter when he spoke next. “I bet Max is loving being the only guy with all the ladies.”

“He’s not here,” Sonia said with a tightness in her voice that implied she wasn’t happy about that situation. “He had a work project he couldn’t get out of.”

“He passed up the tropics with you for work?” Shane tsked . “Well, that sucks.”

“Does Max have a key to your house?” Wes cut into the conversation, because what kind of accountant for a run-of-the-mill firm had the kind of project that would prevent him from taking a week off? Especially when it wasn’t tax return season.

“You have me on fucking speaker?” Sonia growled .

“You called my phone,” Wes pointed out the obvious.

“Yes, because Shane isn’t answering his.”

“Because Wes confiscated it,” Shane chipped in.

Wes glowered at a grinning Shane. Wes did not appreciate the fun Shane was having with this, though he knew Shane well enough now to know it was a self-preservation measure to deflect the seriousness of the situation.

“I’m sorry,” Sonia said after an extended beat of silence. “He what?”

Wes ignored her question and repeated his, infusing a little more authority into his voice. “Does Max have a key to your house?”

“No. He does not,” Sonia replied with a sharp edge and Wes mentally pictured her staring down her nose at him with disdain. “He has his own house and has no reason to be at mine when I’m not there.”

“Have you heard from him since you left town?”

“No.”

By the finality of that one word, Wes cut his losses. Sonia wasn’t going to be any more help to him.

“Okay. Thank you.”

He leaned back and took another bite of his cooling omelet, letting Shane take over the conversation, all the while keeping an ear on it to make sure Shane didn’t say anything that would give away his location. Fortunately, Sonia never asked, and the topic stuck to how much she was enjoying not having to jump to attention to address Shane’s every whim. Her voice was warm and friendly when talking with him, and she sounded like a different person than the one Wes dealt with. He still didn’t know why she disliked him so much. Wes wasn’t out to hurt Shane, which she surely must know by now. He appreciated Shane had people around him who looked out for him, but there was a point where protection became obstruction.

A few minutes later, Shane ended the call and turned to face Wes, a scowl marring his handsome face.

“Really?” Shane pushed his long hair to the side to reveal raised eyebrows. “Now you think Max is my stalker?”

“I never said that, and I’m still waiting to hear back from Isaac about Doug’s whereabouts.” Wes rose from the island to take their empty breakfast plates to the dishwasher. “As Colt likes to say, everyone is a suspect until no one is.”

“Max is a kitten.” Shane leaned back in his chair and laughed.

“Kittens have sharp claws.”

“And Doug cares too much about his job,” Shane continued. “A job he has because of Audio Siren.”

“You never know,” Wes replied, not wanting to share with Shane that if Max had the know-how, he absolutely could make it appear that the email had come from Sonia’s address. “You’d be surprised at what even the most unassuming people are capable of.”

“Fine. You do you, boo.” Shane slid off the chair. “I’m going to take a shower.” He paused halfway down the hall. “I changed my mind.”

“About?”

“I want to know everything,” Shane said with conviction. “Tell me what’s happening, no matter what, from now on.”

Wes nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

And with that, Shane spun on his heel and sauntered off down the hall. Wes was tempted to follow and enjoy a nice leisurely shower with him, but he knew the burr that had dug under his skin after learning Max wasn’t in Barbados with Sonia wouldn’t ease until he did something about it.

The water turned on, and a few seconds later, Shane’s voice drifted from the bathroom as he began to sing. Wes didn’t know what the song was, or even the words, but the sound of Shane’s voice warmed his soul like the sun’s rays after a cold spell.

After putting their breakfast dishes away, he turned for his office instead of the bathroom. He needed to do something and decided on some deeper digging into Max, since Isaac was looking into Doug. Waking up his computer, he navigated to the app he’d created with info on every person in Shane’s orbit. He pulled up Max’s information. He’d already run a basic internet name search to see what, if anything, popped up. But because Max was on the outer edges of Shane’s circle and had only limited interaction with him, Wes hadn’t investigated further. Now, though, he would feel better after expanding that search. Thanks to some social media posts, he discovered the make, model, and license plate of Max’s vehicle, which, lucky for Wes, was GPS-enabled. With a little tracking trickery that may or may not skirt the line of legal, Wes was able to hack in. Max’s car was parked at his office. Backtracking to the day the last email had been sent, Wes found the same thing: Max’s car had been parked at his office. Which meant either Max hadn’t been near Sonia’s house and was in the clear, or . . . He was at her house but hadn’t used his own car to get there.

“Why are you frowning?”

Wes startled, not having heard Shane come up behind him, and shook his head as he closed his app and tracking screens. “It’s nothing.”

Shane propped his hands on his hips. “What did we just talk about at breakfast? No holding back on me or I’m getting a chastity belt.”

Wes’s brain stuttered for a second before a burst of laughter escaped him. He wouldn’t put it past Shane to do just that to make a point. “I’m just digging deeper into Max’s background.”

“Seriously?” Shane flapped his hands in the air. “There’s no way.”

Wes sighed, quelling a flash of irritation. It was a beautiful thing that Shane didn’t see how cruel people could be to each other, not like Wes did. He didn’t want to see that faith damaged, but Wes wasn’t prone to giving the benefit of the doubt before researching all the facts first. “How about you let me do my job?”

“Fine.” Shane huffed and spun on his heel, calling over his shoulder. “We have to go help clean up from the fundraiser and proposal last night. And I want to spend some time with Nahawi.”

The next day, Shane watched in awe as eight mustangs launched from the trailer and took off at a gallop into a forty-acre pasture. Some with their tails and heads high as they took in their new surroundings, others stopping to cautiously sniff at the ground. The sounds of their pounding hooves on the hard ground and their snorts of warning reverberated in Shane’s chest. A tall bay with a crooked blaze turned and locked eyes with him. Goosebumps rose on Shane’s forearm as something passed between them. You will not tame me , the mustang said. I will not be broken . As though his wild spirit possessed an element of magic. Had he ever seen anything so inspiring in his life? Had he ever been so close to something so alive, so pure?

Shane held his breath, not wanting the moment to end. The mustang snorted at him before spinning around trotting off to join his herd. Indomitable. Majestic. Resilient.

They were the epitome of the American West, and what was happening to them was an atrocity. After learning from Mason about how cruelly they were rounded up—their freedom stolen and families torn apart, and too many ending up in holding pens for the rest of their lives or falling to abuse and neglect in homes ill-equipped to handle wild horses, or worse, the slaughter pipeline—an anger he hadn’t known he was capable of rose and burned the base of his throat.

“How can I help?” Shane asked a still glowing, newly engaged Mason, who’d come up to the fence to stand beside him and watch the new horses.

He had to do something.

Mason looked at him with a raised eyebrow and lift of his lips, and Shane got the feeling Mason had been waiting for an opening like that.

“First, call and email your state senators and representatives in congress to strengthen wild horse protections. Second, put your fame to work,” Mason said in all seriousness. “The best way for you to help, aside from donating to wild horse organizations and sanctuaries, is to use your platform to raise awareness and amplify the plight of the mustang.”

“Done on all fronts,” Shane said, and he meant it. As soon as they got back to the house, he’d make those calls and send those emails. “I wish I could help with boots on the ground, too.”

“Kind of hard. What with you being a famous rock star and all,” Mason teased.

Shane shrugged. “It is a bit time-consuming,” he deadpanned, and Mason laughed.

Being a musician and fronting Audio Siren was his whole life. Or, it had been his whole life until these past few weeks—the past week especially. Spending time with Wes on the ranch brought a peace he hadn’t known he’d been missing. A pace of living he’d forgotten existed, and now all he wanted to do was to find a way to blend the two lifestyles together. He didn’t want to give up his career, and he didn’t want to give up Wes either. But maybe his career didn’t need to run at warp speed anymore.

His gaze drifted over to Wes, who was closing the gate to the pasture behind Colt, as Colt drove the trailer out. Wes stood with his back to him while he talked with Levi and Trina, and Shane took the moment to admire the rugged beauty that was Wes Stonebraker. How his well-worn jeans clung to his muscular thighs and highlighted the round and firm globes of his butt. How his sherpa-lined denim jacket framed his broad shoulders and tapered to his lean waist. And how much he’d like to take Wes back to the house and peel all those layers off, one by one, until they were down to warm bare skin—

Mason cleared his throat, snapping Shane out of his wandering thoughts. He was grinning when Shane met his gaze.

“So . . .” Mason dragged the word out. “How long have you been sleeping with my soon-to-be brother-in-law?”

“What?” Shane gasped, the blood draining from his face. “It’s not like that.”

Mason snorted. “Please. I was born at night, but not last night,” he quipped. “I slept with my bodyguard, too.”

Record scratch . “You what?”

“I take it Wes didn’t tell you much about our shared history?”

“Only that you all lived here when you were kids, and you and Colt were boyfriends back then. Your, uh, dad kicked them out,” Shane recalled, and Mason frowned. His jaw tightening. “He said you all reconnected when you ran into some trouble taking over the ranch, but he didn’t elaborate on it any more than that.”

Mason tipped his hat up and the sun sparkled in his green-hazel eyes.

“There were threats when I took over, that escalated to the point Sheriff Chambers insisted I get on-site security.”

“I’ve met the sheriff,” Shane added, and grinned. “He’s hot.”

“Right?” Mason chuckled. “Anyway, long story short. The fire was still there between Colt and me. Poor man. He really tried to keep a professional distance, but—”

“But have you seen you?” Shane waved a hand up and down Mason’s body like a game show host and wolf whistled. “Like the man had a choice. ”

Mason laughed, a smooth, velvety sound, and his cheeks colored, drawing a smile from Shane.

“Anyway,” Mason continued. “Wes caught wind and gave Colt a hard time for compromising his job and putting himself and me at risk. I mean, he had a point. It is highly unprofessional to get involved with a client. But like I said, we had a history. So, I’m looking forward to Wes eating some of what he dished out.”

“Bit of a difference between me and Wes,” Shane said. “No shared history and completely different lifestyles.”

“True.” Mason shrugged. “But there were twenty years of hurt feelings and misunderstandings between Colt and I, so we had that to work through. If you truly feel for him, don’t fight it. But I’ll tell you right now.” Mason leveled a serious look at him. “If you hurt him, there will be hell to pay.”

Shane nodded. “That’s the last thing I ever want to do.”

Silence fell between them as they watched the horses graze with wary eyes.

Wes sidled up beside him. Close enough to feel the warmth of his body, but not close enough to touch. Shane wanted to, but he knew Wes didn’t want his brothers to know they were involved—even though Mason already figured it out. And with Wes’s two brothers being in the same profession as him, they probably knew, too. Shane snorted to himself. Involved wasn’t the right word. They were more than that. Somehow, Wes had slid past all of Shane’s barriers and make a home for himself in Shane’s heart. How was he ever going to go back to his life after experiencing how it could be with Wes?

“Magical, aren’t they?” Wes rumbled with a reverence Shane felt.

Shane nodded and slanted a glance at Wes.

Wes turned to meet his gaze, and a magnetic pull tugged at Shane. He wanted to kiss Wes. Right then. In front of everyone. Claim Wes as his and the clash of their lifestyles be damned.

A slow smile spread across Wes’s handsome face, as though he’d read Shane’s thoughts and agreed. He parted his lips, but the ringing of his cell phone cut off whatever he’d been about to say.

Wes glanced at the screen before answering. “Hey, Katie. What’s up? ”

Shane could hear Katie’s voice, but not the words she was saying. Wes’s body stiffened. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

A chill raced up and down Shane’s spine. Was it his stalker? But why would Katie be calling about that?

Wes thanked Katie. His stare hard as he tucked his phone back into his jacket pocket. Shane fought the urge to pat his pockets for a stick of gum as a sense of doom bloomed around him.

“Jonas’s plane is landing in fifteen,” Wes growled.