Chapter Fifteen

Wes took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair. He’d marked Jonas clear, his alibis solid, but until they had the stalker in custody, Wes wasn’t about to let his guard down with the man on the ranch. Even if Jonas had followed Wes’s instructions to a T. At least on his home turf, Wes had the remoteness working in his favor, and the help of his brothers and Sheriff Chambers.

He replaced his hat and called out for his brothers.

Colt paused when he reached Mason. The warm smile on his face slipping at whatever Mason told him. Colt glared at Wes over Mason’s shoulder.

Jeez. What the hell did I do ?

“What’s up?” Levi asked as he approached.

Colt followed on his heels with a scowl. Whatever Mason had told him, he was keeping to himself for now.

“Shane’s manager is about to land,” Wes informed them. He’d brought them up to speed that day after Shane had confessed to calling Jonas—accidentally—to make sure they were on board with extra surveillance. “Would you mind coming with us to the airstrip? I’d like to make a show of letting Jonas know we mean business here.”

“You got it,” Colt replied.

“One hundred percent,” Levi said simultaneously.

Colt turned to Mason with an apologetic look on his face.

“Go,” Mason said with a wave. “Dion and I will finish up here.”

Mason leaned in and kissed Colt before heading over to where Dion was cleaning out the trailer from their haul.

“Okay.” Colt gave Wes another odd look, glancing briefly at Shane before turning away. “Let’s go. ”

Shit. He knows about me and Shane .

Wes didn’t have time to ponder that as the four of them climbed into Mason’s old ranch pickup with Colt at the wheel and Wes in the front passenger seat. Tension was thick as they headed for the airstrip.

“I don’t know how long he’s planning to stay,” Wes said as they bounced along the dirt access road and crossed the first wooden bridge over the snaking Laramie River. “But I don’t want him at my house. Or for him to even know where it is.”

“Don’t worry,” Levi said from the back seat. He sat with Shane, who had been quiet since Katie’s phone call. “His room is all set up above the dining hall. Shane can visit with him there.”

“Good.” Wes’s mind again whirled with security concerns that Jonas being on site brought and the extra precautions he’d put in place.

Most of the video surveillance cameras that had been set up when Mason was under threat were still running, but they needed new angles. Wes and his brothers set up two cameras outside the dining hall—one in front and one in back. Levi added another inside the main hall, that captured the stairs to the apartments, and they’d also put one up outside Wes’s cabin. That might be more than they needed, but in their field, one could never be too overcautious.

Silence fell between them as the airstrip came into view and a familiar jet coming in for landing.

They waited inside the truck until the plane came to a stop and the engines whined as they revved down. No one spoke as they exited and stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting. Anticipation tightened the muscles in Wes’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Shane whispered next to him. The contrite tone in his voice tugged at Wes. Yes, he was mad at Shane for calling Jonas, albeit unintentionally, but at the same time he wanted to pull him into his arms and soothe away his worry.

The door opened to reveal the same pilot who’d flown Wes and Shane to the ranch over a week ago. He nodded toward them as he lowered the stairs. He stepped back, disappearing into the belly of the plane, and Jonas appeared.

Shane’s band manager was always a flashy dresser, and today was no different. He wore a bespoke, lavender-colored three-piece suit over a warm yellow shirt, with a skinny yellow tie and a matching pocket square. He removed his signature tortoise-colored round Ray-Bans as he descended the steps, carry-on bag bouncing on the stairs behind him. His face lit when his sharp eyes landed on Shane.

Wes glanced at his brothers, wondering what their first impressions of Jonas were, and a grin tugged at his lips. Jonas might look like a clueless prima donna, but he was smart as a whip.

One thing was for sure: Jonas would be easy to track while he was on the ranch. No matter where he was, the man did not blend in.

Jonas stopped in front of Shane and propped his hands on his hips, his gaze traveling up and down Shane and his mouth curving into a toothy grin.

“Who are you and what did you do with my rock star?”

He’s my rock star . Surprised by the thought, and the growl that threatened to escape, Wes cleared his throat. He didn’t fail to notice the sideways look Colt gave him.

“Howdy, partner,” Shane drawled. He tipped his borrowed cowboy hat and did a little spin on the heels of his also-borrowed cowboy boots. “What do you think of the new look? Hot, right?”

“Hot as ever.” Jonas laughed and pulled him into a quick hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” Shane said with a sincerity in his voice that had Wes’s green demon stomping its feet again. Which was ridiculous, because this was Jonas. There was nothing more, and had never been anything more, between the two of them than a solid, decades-long working relationship. Not to mention, Jonas was happily married going on fourteen years.

At least, as far as Wes was aware.

“Jonas,” Wes greeted, stepping forward to shake his hand. “I trust you followed my instructions?”

“Of course. The last thing I want to do is put Shane in jeopardy,” Jonas replied with sincerity. “I’m sorry to come here, but believe it or not, there are some things that still need to be signed in person. I’m looking forward to hearing these new songs he’s been working on, too.”

Wes nodded and stepped back, gesturing to his brothers, who stood tall and imposing as they studied Jonas. “These are my brothers. Colt and Levi. ”

Not intimidated in the least, Jonas approached each one with an eagerness that seemed to surprise them. Colt especially, going by his raised eyebrows.

“It’s a pleasure.” Jonas addressed them by name as he gave them each a hearty handshake. “I’ve never been on a real ranch before. This is like something out of a movie, or that TV series everyone is raving about. What is the name of . . .?” Jonas snapped his fingers. “Yellowstone! Have you seen it?”

Levi and Colt shared an amused glance before shaking their heads, and a little of the tension that had been holding Wes rigid loosened. Jonas would need a split personality to be Shane’s stalker. And massive balls to be so bold as to show up on the ranch like this.

“Here. Let me get that for you,” Levi offered, as he picked up Jonas’s carry-on and placed it in the truck’s box.

Jonas thanked him.

They all climbed back into the pickup. This time Levi rode up front with Colt. Wes sat in the back, between Shane and Jonas. There might have been more reason for that than protecting Shane, but he refused to address the truth. He didn’t want anyone sitting that close to Shane except for himself.

“Who knows you’re here?” Wes said without preamble.

“No one,” Jonas replied distractedly as he buckled his seat belt, drawing a grin from Wes. They never buckled up on the ranch. “Like you said.”

“You booked your own flight?”

Jonas shot him a sharp look. “Of course I did.”

“Okay. There are a few ground rules while you’re here.” Wes held out his hand, palm up. “First things first. I’ll need your cell phone.”

Jonas frowned. “Why? I can’t be without my phone. The music business is twenty-four-seven.”

“As long as you’re here, you’re out of the office. Pretend you’re on the set of Yellowstone.” Wes motioned again for the device. “And just how long are you planning on being here for?”

“A couple of days.” Jonas narrowed his eyes as he pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, but instead of handing it over, he started tapping away on the keys.

“What are you doing?” Wes barked. His irritation rising .

“Just setting an out of office notice,” Jonas replied without looking up.

“You better not mention your location.”

Shane snorted as Jonas looked up at Wes with an expression that said duh . “Contrary to what some people might think, I actually have an extremely high IQ.”

Which didn’t always equate to common sense. Wes kept the observation to himself.

“Didn’t mean to imply,” he ground out.

Finished, Jonas handed his phone over with a put-upon sigh. Just like Shane had when Wes had taken his phone.

“Don’t worry, Jonas,” Shane said, a teasing note in his voice. “He confiscated mine too.”

Wes ignored him and to Jonas said, “Please don’t borrow anyone else’s phone to make calls. Stay offline. And don’t go near any of the horses without one of us or a ranch hand with you. We have a lot of wild ones here that can be dangerous.”

Jonas shuddered. “Believe me, I won’t go anywhere near them. Horses are terrifying.”

Colt and Levi chuckled up front.

“Oh, you’re going to love it here,” Levi promised.

The temperature had dropped dramatically by the time they pulled up to Wes’s house. A crisp, earthy scent in the air forewarned of incoming snow, drawing a spark of excitement from Shane. The only times he’d spent in a snowy climate were when they’d had a show in a northern state during winter. And even then, he could only watch it fall from his hotel or car window.

They’d spent the rest of the day getting Jonas settled in at the dining hall, introducing him to Chef Aiden and a few of the hands that had wandered in for dinner, and catching up. Wes had finally stopped giving Jonas the fifth degree, but the tension in his shoulders had never eased. Shane grinned as Wes’s bootheels crunched behind him on the gravel walkway. Maybe he would give Wes a massage. Naked, of course. Heat flushed through him .

He opened the front door, and a second later Wes was on him. He pressed Shane back against the wall, kicking the door closed with a booted foot as he leaned in and claimed his mouth with a kiss so possessive and demanding that Shane’s brain short-circuited.

He wasn’t about to complain, though. Not at all. But there was a fervor to Wes’s kisses that Shane hadn’t felt before. An intensity that threatened to weaken his knees, to consume him whole. He wanted that. To be owned by Wes. Devoured. But he also wanted to slow down and savor every second.

“Easy there, cowboy,” Shane teased as desire raced through his veins. “We have all the time in the world.”

But did they? His chest tightened as the painful reminder of their limited time hit him. What would happen after they caught his stalker? Did they try a long-distance relationship? Did Wes even want something like that? Did Shane?

“Time isn’t guaranteed.” Wes’s voice was rough with a desperate edge to it that spiked Shane’s heart rate. “We have to make the most of every minute.”

Shane would worry about what may or may not happen later.

“Then let’s start with getting out of these clothes,” Shane said, not at all surprised how ragged and needy his own voice sounded.

He laced his fingers with Wes’s rougher digits and led him to the bedroom with a look that had Wes groaning. Shane grinned, his inner peacock preening.

“But the bedroom is so far away,” Wes complained, stumbling behind him as he pushed Shane’s hair aside to plant hot, wet kisses on the side of his neck.

“ Jee-zus ,” Shane moaned, sparks shooting from his neck and ping-ponging along his every nerve ending. He tugged their joined hands and increased his pace. The faster they got to the bedroom, the faster he could strip Wes down to revel in his gorgeous, lean body.

Wes spun him around the second they crossed the threshold and started yanking at Shane’s clothes. A button went flying, something tore, and Shane was certain he’d need to replace the zipper on his jeans. Through it all, Wes kissed him like the world was on fire. Shane’s body sure was. His internal heat rose, releasing a light sheen of perspiration over his arms and chest, and his body tingled with anticipation .

One minute Shane was standing and the next his back hit the bed, Wes covering his body, both gloriously divested of clothing that they wouldn’t be able to wear again without a visit to an alterations shop. A primal part of Shane wanted to keep the damaged attire. To always have this reminder of his time with Wes, if this was all they’d have.

Wes sucked a nipple into his mouth, Shane’s metal piercing clacking against his teeth, and cutting off Shane’s thoughts. Because the only thing that mattered was Wes’s mouth on his skin. He carded his fingers through Wes’s short locks and gripped, drawing a rumbling moan of pleasure from him.

Wes’s gaze lifted to meet his and the fire in those blue-gray depths sent another wave of molten lava coursing through Shane’s veins. God, he wanted this man. Not just for now, but for always.

He rocked his hips as he tugged on Wes’s hair, telling Wes what he wanted without words. Wes popped off his nipple, his lips red and shiny, and with a salacious grin, he knee-walked up Shane’s body until he fully covered him. His slightly larger frame settled perfectly into Shane’s, all their bits and bones and angles perfectly notching together like puzzle pieces.

“What do you want?” Wes whispered against his lips, the moist heat of his breath ghosting over Shane’s mouth like a summer breeze.

“Make love to me.”

Shane froze. His breath catching the second the words escaped his mouth, but a part of him revolted at the idea of trying to take it back. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—deny what his heart wanted.

Wes stared down at him, but Shane couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking or feeling. Something akin to fear niggled at him. Did he just freak Wes out? They hadn’t discussed anything about their relationship. Or whatever it was they were doing here. Shane had gone into this with a “making the most of it” mindset. A fling and nothing more because their lifestyles were so different that there couldn’t be anything more. But now . . . Now he couldn’t deny he was falling for Wes. His heart had gone and gotten involved where it shouldn’t have.

But then Wes’s whole expression changed. An odd dichotomy, how cool blue eyes could be warm, but that’s what they were. The corners of his eyes softened while his brows relaxed, and the edges of his mouth tipped upward. Each movement was small while also big enough to move mountains. Shane’s lungs expanded with relief.

“I can do more than that,” Wes promised on a whisper.

And Wes did.

He kissed and licked and nipped every inch of Shane’s body until Shane was a pliant, writhing mass of boneless limbs and nonsensical words. His craving for Wes so beyond great he didn’t think he’d survive another second without Wes inside of him. When Wes finally entered him, Shane’s entire being shuddered with unadulterated ecstasy as he fully gave himself over. How could one man, this one man, make him feel so much? Make him want so much? Wes claimed more than Shane’s body as he rocked into him. More than his mind. Wes had burrowed so deep into Shane’s heart that Shane knew there would never be room for anyone else. He was ruined on this man.

Wes pumped faster, in and out, and deep . . . So very deep. Shane moved with him, matching every stroke and slide and grunt and moan. He felt as though his body was merging with Wes’s, the way a progression of chords, hit just right, could create a bewitching harmony. Wes set a flawless rhythm, intense and surging, building and building and building, until the chaos of emotion and sensation coalesced into the most beautiful, most perfect song Shane had ever heard.

Then came the encore. His body shattered apart. A guttural roar shredded its way from his throat, singing in symphony with Wes’s shout, and rent the air as a powerful climax stole his vision.

Spent, Shane’s racing heart slowed at a languorous pace. His bones as limp as wet spaghetti. With a groan, Wes pulled out and dropped to Shane’s side. Grimacing at the stickiness that had started to glue their skin together, he removed the condom and tossed it like a basketball player toward the bathroom—where it landed on the floor a mere few feet from the bed. A chuckle escaped Shane.

“I’ll pick that up when I’m able to stand again,” Wes said with a shrug.

“That’s all you, Cowboy,” Shane quipped.

Wes snorted as Shane tucked into his side, slipping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer .

“Mason knows we’re a thing.” Shane watched his finger as he traced a lazy path over the smooth skin of Wes’s lightly sweaty chest. “And no doubt Colt knows by now, too.”

Wes groaned and draped his other arm over his eyes, drawing a laugh from Shane.

“I was wondering why Colt kept glaring at me today.”

“Do you think he’s mad?”

“No. Maybe.” Wes fell quiet for a moment. “I gave him such a hard time about sleeping with Mason while he was still a client.” He sighed. “And now here I am with you.”

“So . . .” Shane swallowed back the tightness in his throat. Was this whole thing between them one-sided? Even after Wes has just made love to him like he meant it. He tried for teasing, but even he could hear the tightness in his words when he said, “I’m just a client.”

Wes jerked his head toward him. Eyebrows raised and a look of panic on his face. “Not even close. You’re . . .”

“I’m what?” Shane asked quietly, a sense of trepidation creeping into his post-coital bliss at what Wes’s answer might be.

Wes’s expression softened. The light in his stormy eyes seemed brighter, and a slow smile spread across his face. His voice breathy when he said, “You’re everything.”