Chapter Sixteen

“Taste.” Jonas held a spoon up to Shane’s mouth.

Jonas came to the ranch to get Shane’s signature but had spent an awful lot of time in the kitchen with Chef Aiden—especially since Wes had refused to let Jonas come to his cabin. Instead, Shane hung out with Jonas in the dining hall, playing his new songs on Wes’s dad’s acoustic. Or Jonas hovered a safe distance , his words, outside the stall while Shane tended to Nahawi. If Wes wasn’t with them, then one of his brothers was. They kept their distance but were never too far away.

To pass the time when Shane wasn’t with him, Jonas had convinced Aiden to give him cooking lessons so he could make some romantic dinners for his husband. Even though his marital status didn’t stop Jonas from flirting with Aiden, whose pale skin blushed a pretty pink every time Jonas complimented him.

Shane took a taste from the offered spoon and his eyes rolled back. Tender chicken in a flavor-filled, umami-rich sauce with sun-dried tomatoes, garlic, basil, and oregano flooded his senses.

“Oh my god,” he moaned. “That is so good. What is it?”

“Marry me chicken casserole,” Jonas said with a note of pride in his voice. “It’s for Jared.”

Shane chuckled. “You’re already married.”

“I’d marry him again,” Jonas said wistfully. “Every day of every year.”

Shane’s heart melted at the love Jonas had for his husband, and Wes’s sated, sultry smile popped into his mind. He wanted that, too. But what Jonas and Jared had was rare and special. Something that didn’t happen for everyone.

“Do you think he will love it?” There was a rare note of insecurity in Jonas’s voice that charmed Shane.

“How can he not? I think he’ll be melting in your hands like putty,” Shane said softly, longing tugging at him for a soul-deep kind of connection like Team JJ.

Jonas smiled. Not his patent “manager” smile, but one that was reserved for very few people in his life. It was softer, more genuine, and it made something in Shane’s chest flip over that he was one of those few.

“You’ll have that too, Shane.”

“Maybe.” Shane looked away and shrugged. He couldn’t deny that was what he wanted with Wes. More and more with each passing day. And after last night, the possibility existed. Maybe. “We’ll see.”

“More than maybe,” Jonas said. He dipped a spoon into his sauce for a taste. “A little more garlic, I think.”

Shane laughed. “You can never have too much garlic.”

“Unless you’re a vampire.”

They were still laughing when the kitchen door flew open and banged against the wall. Shane’s heart shot into his throat. The spoon Jonas had been holding clattered to the floor, echoing in the sudden silence, and cream-colored sauce splattered over the white tiles. Wes stormed into the kitchen with fire in his eyes and a piece of paper clenched in his hand. He slammed it down on the counter in front of Jonas.

“What the fuck is this?” Wes demanded.

Jonas looked down at the sheet and back up at Wes, his brows raised and a frown on his face.

“Uhm . . .” He glanced from Wes to Shane and back before leveling a sharp glare of disappointment at Shane. Jonas pointed at the offending paper. “Do not tell me you’re sleeping with your bodyguard.”

“That is the last thing you need to worry about right now,” Wes barked.

Shane leaned forward to see what the fuss was all about while Jonas and Wes continued to rail at each other, and his lungs froze. Ice spread out from his chest until it encased his whole body.

On the paper was a photo of him and Wes kissing, which, okay, he could see why Jonas would be pissed about that. But where the photo had been taken sent spikes of fear tearing through his veins: the kitchen of Wes’s cabin. From outside through the window, and Shane knew exactly the moment that kiss had happened—last night. They’d been standing in front of the sink, having just finished clearing away their dinner dishes, and Wes had turned to him with that “come hither” grin that weakened Shane’s knees.

Bile roiled in Shane’s stomach. He couldn’t hear Wes and Jonas’s raised voices over the roar in his ears.

“How? Holy fuck,” Shane croaked, his voice sounding distant, as though it hadn’t come from him. “They’re here.”

He patted his pockets, coming up empty, and looked up to find two sets of blue eyes staring at him. One set cool, the other warm. Wes moved closer and placed a hand on his hip, the touch immediately calming Shane enough that he could take a deep breath. Jonas’s gaze zeroed in on the point of contact and Shane knew he’d have some explaining to do to his manager. But not now. Who he shared his bed with was nobody’s business, but Jonas had been more than a manager to him. He’d been a friend and confidant too—family.

“Did you take this photo?” Wes accused more than asked Jonas.

Jonas’s complexion darkened. “Are you kidding me? Of course not. You confiscated my phone. Remember?”

“I didn’t confiscate—Christ. What a shit show.” Wes huffed a frustrated sounding sigh. “Did you bring a camera with you? Or a tablet?”

“No camera. Yes tablet,” Jonas said, his tone measured. “You’re welcome to check it.”

“Did you check the surveillance camera outside the house?” Shane asked.

“Yes. Whoever took this was out of the frame.” Wes dropped his hand from Shane’s hip, leaving an icy chill in his wake. He lifted his cowboy hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Everything was fine until you showed up, Jonas. And suddenly this appears? Who else could have taken it?”

“I don’t know.” Jonas crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. “But it sure as hell wasn’t me. I’ve been here in the dining hall the whole time, listening to Shane’s new songs and hanging out with Chef Aiden.” Jonas waved a hand. “Go ask him yourself. ”

“Jonas isn’t my stalker,” Shane said, but neither Jonas nor Wes acknowledged him.

He knew, right down to his very marrow, that Jonas couldn’t possibly be his stalker. There was no way. The man didn’t have an evil bone in his body.

Ignoring him, Wes addressed Jonas. “Where were you last night between seven and eight p.m.?”

“Right. Here.” Jonas waved both arms to encompass the kitchen. “Aiden was showing me how to make baked apple roses.”

“Which I will confirm.” Wes narrowed his eyes as Jonas rolled his. “I’ll ask again. Who knows you’re here?”

Jonas glared daggers at Wes as he stooped to pick up the spoon he’d dropped when Wes burst into the kitchen.

“And I’ll answer again.” The disdain in his tightly spoken words was heavy as he placed the dirty spoon in the sink. “No one.”

Wes narrowed his eyes. “And you booked your own flights?”

“As I said.”

“Well, someone sure as hell knows Shane is here,” Wes snarled, anger rolling off him in oppressive waves.

Jonas opened his mouth and snapped it shut. A blush colored his cheeks. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth as his expression faded from perturbed to apologetic.

“What?” Wes snapped, and Shane braced himself for an explosion.

“You said flights , plural,” he said cautiously. “I flew direct from Burbank.”

“You always fly out of Burbank,” Shane cut into the conversation. “Everyone in the band knows that.”

“Son of a bitch,” Wes bit out. “You were supposed to book a commercial flight. Then take a private charter.”

“But no one can track a private jet,” Jonas said.

“If they can get your plane’s tail number, they can use an app to track you real time,” Wes said.

“Shit.” Jonas’s complexion paled. “I didn’t think. I’m so sorry, Shane.”

Wes rounded on Shane. “You’re not leaving my sight from now on,” his voice was softer, but the conviction in it was as loud as a bullhorn. Then he turned and pointed at Jonas. “You will not go anywhere on this ranch without an escort. In fact, let’s call the plane to come and pick you up as soon as possible.”

“That’s a bit extreme,” Shane countered.

“Not even close,” Wes ground out, and his expression said there would be no room for argument. It shouldn’t have, and the timing couldn’t be more inappropriate, but Wes, in full protection mode, sent a flush of desirous heat into Shane’s groin.

“Everything okay in here?”

Shane jumped as Levi strolled into the kitchen, his gait deceivingly easy and his shrewd gaze taking everything in.

Wes sighed and shook his head. “Would you mind staying here to keep an eye on them for a minute while I talk to Aiden?”

“You got it.” Levi leaned against the prep bar. “Are they allowed to move?”

“Not from this room,” Wes called over his shoulder as he disappeared in search of Aiden.

“I don’t need a guard,” Shane said to Levi once Wes was gone. “Jonas isn’t a threat.”

Levi shifted his gaze from Shane to Jonas, his eyebrows raised. “What happened to make Wes think he was?”

Shane replayed the last few minutes, and showed Levi the photo Wes had found. Levi whistled at the image of them kissing.

“I swear I had nothing to do with this,” Jonas pleaded, folding the brothy sauce into a pot of wild rice with a fresh spoon. “Not intentionally, anyway.” He turned to Shane. “I am so sorry if my coming here brought danger to you, Shane.”

“I know.” Shane walked around the stainless-steel worktable and pulled Jonas into a hug. “It’s not your fault. Wes will find that out soon enough.”

As much as Shane believed Jonas couldn’t be his stalker, a tendril of uncertainty snaked through his chest. He couldn’t help the thought that sprung into his mind and threatened to shake the foundation under his feet.

Am I hugging my stalker right now ?

Aiden launched from his chair when Wes stormed into his office, the door banging against the wall. Aiden looked more than startled. He had a panicked look to his eyes that Wes had only seen in the wild horses that Mason rescued. He had a feeling that Aiden was about to bolt, but he didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with that right now. Finding Shane’s stalker was at the top of his mind.

“Sorry, Aiden,” he apologized contritely, and took a deep breath. “Did you see Jonas last night between seven and eight p.m.?”

The light changed in Aiden’s crystal-blue eyes and his shoulders lowered ever-so-slightly. He exhaled and sat back at his desk, running a hand through loosely curled hair that was the color of Wes’s, though a little more strawberry than blond.

“Yes,” Aiden confirmed. “We were in the kitchen. I was teaching him to make a romantic dessert for his husband.” One side of Aiden’s mouth quirked up. “He’s quite eager to please his man.”

Relief that Jonas was accounted for—it would have devastated Shane if he’d turned out to be the stalker—abruptly shifted to frustration. Wes still wasn’t anywhere closer to finding out who was after Shane and now the threat had come to the ranch. To his home . The one place he’d been certain Shane would be safe was now compromised.

“Have you seen anyone unfamiliar around the ranch in the last couple of days?”

Aiden shook his head. “Other than Jonas, no.”

“Okay.” Wes frowned as he backed out of the office. “Thanks, Aiden. Sorry again for startling you.”

Aiden nodded and returned his focus to his books.

Wes ground his molars as he walked back to the kitchen proper. Jonas was in the clear, but now Wes was back to square one. Somehow, someone had used Jonas to track Shane. But how? They would have had to follow Jonas to the airport to see which plane he boarded to get a tail number, which was hard to do and highly unlikely. But if they’d somehow gotten a tracking app on Jonas’s phone . . . A phone that was on when Jonas arrived.

Three sets of eyes zeroed in on him when he stepped back into the kitchen—one set sharp, Levi’s. Another was defiant, Jonas’s. And trepidation swam in Shane’s usually mischievous but now worried eyes.

Since Levi and Jonas already knew what was going on between them, thanks to the photo, Wes didn’t hesitate walking right up to Shane and pulling him into his arms. Shane sank into him, and Wes wished he could keep him safe from everyone and everything that threatened to harm him, simply by holding him. He kissed Shane’s hair and then stepped back, but kept an arm around Shane’s waist.

“And?” Jonas said. The acidic tone in his voice dared Wes to accuse him again. Wes wouldn’t.

“You’re clear,” Wes replied, but he wasn’t about to apologize. Jonas may not be Shane’s stalker, but things had been good on the ranch until he arrived. Unintentional as it may be, he’d brought danger with him to their front door.

“Now what?” Shane asked.

“Now we’ll check the other cameras to see if we caught your stalker,” Wes said. “And I have to check Jonas’s phone for a tracking app.”

Jonas gasped. “That’s not possible. Surely, I would know.”

Wes and Levi both shook their heads.

“I’ll make sure Aiden stays with Jonas.” Levi waved a hand toward the man in question. “Mason can go through all the surveillance feeds while Colt and I trade sentry over your house.”

“Thanks, Lee,” Wes said with a nod. The stalker knew where they were, had been to Wes’s cabin. There was no way he’d have been able to sleep tonight, so knowing his brothers would be keeping watch lifted a little of the weight from his shoulders. “Appreciate it.”

“We got you, bro.” Levi squeezed his shoulder on his way to Aiden’s office. “Give me a minute and I’ll follow you over.”

Wes led a subdued Shane from the dining hall, across the yard, and to his truck, the whole while on hyperalert for any threats. The air smelled like snow—crisp, with a hint of sweetness.

Once in the truck, Shane let loose a breath that fogged the windshield before him while they waited for Levi to join them. The moisture from his deep exhale clouded in the cold air inside the cab. Wes turned the engine over and cranked the heat.

Shane dragged his hands down his face. “This has got to end. ”

The defeat in his voice cracked Wes’s heart. He was failing Shane. The last person on the planet he ever wanted to fail. Wes was better than this. Stonebraker Protection and Investigation Services was the best in the business for a reason. People sought Wes out to assist in high-profile cybercrimes because he was one of the best. But here he was, flailing like a rookie and still unable to track even the simplest task: an IP address. Granted, there were ways for a hardcore, black-hat hacker to evade detection, but for Wes . . . Not having pinned them down yet was a major blow to his confidence. And it was happening on the one job that mattered to him more than anything: protecting Shane.

“I will see to it,” Wes vowed with conviction. He wouldn’t let Shane down.

He placed a hand on Shane’s knee and gave it a squeeze, hoping to relay his assurance that this would all be over soon. That Shane would be safe and free to live his life again without having to look over his shoulder.

Even if that life didn’t include Wes.

As though Shane had picked up on his thoughts, he took Wes’s hand from his knee and laced their fingers together, giving a reassuring squeeze of his own. For now, they were together in this and together they’d get through it.

Headlights splashed over them. Levi honked his horn once.

The motion-activated floodlights came to life when the small caravan pulled up to Wes’s house. He scanned the immediate area as best he could, but didn’t see anything of concern. Of course, the shadows were black holes beyond the reach of the light.

“Stay there,” he ordered Shane as he stepped out of the truck and listened. A light breeze whispered through the pines, a distant chorus of coyote yips and yowls, the low throaty “hoot-hoot” of an owl nearby, and closer, the tick and ping of his cooling truck engine.

His boots crunched loud on the gravel as he walked around to the passenger side of the truck and opened the door for Shane. Keeping Shane close to him on his left side, while releasing the thumb break in his shoulder holster for quick access to his gun. He hadn’t been wearing his gun on the ranch, but after finding the photo, he’d put it on .

He and Shane walked up onto the veranda together and he opened the door as Levi stood back and surveyed the area. Inside, Wes turned the lights on in the foyer and paused, listening again for any sounds in the house that shouldn’t be there.

“Uh, Wes.”

The edge in Shane’s voice made the hairs on the back of Wes’s neck stand up. He followed Shane’s gaze.

Ice flooded into his veins.

There, on the floor, another photo had been slipped under the door. This time it was of Wes. The stalker had taken a red pen to his face and drawn a rifle sight target over it. Shit . Wes pulled his Glock 22 from the holster and thumbed the safety off.

“At the ready,” Wes called out to Levi, who immediately drew his weapon. To Shane he ordered, “Follow me.”

Shane stuck to him like glue while Wes searched the rest of the house. Nothing was out of order, nothing was missing, and most importantly, no one was there. He rolled his shoulders to release a little tension. Flicking the safety on his gun back into place, he tucked it into his holster. He gathered up his laptop from the office.

“We’re not staying here,” Wes announced as he turned and headed for his bedroom.

Shane followed, quiet, a tense energy emanating from him in cold waves. Wes dropped his laptop on the bed before heading to the closet in his room.

“Throw some clothes in a bag,” he said over his shoulder.

When he stepped back out, Shane was sitting on the end of the bed, his complexion pale, and eyes wide. Wes kicked himself for not realizing how scared Shane must be, before he’d started barking orders.

“Hey.” He knelt in front of Shane and placed a hand on Shane’s thigh. He pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and held it up. “You’re going to be okay. The house is empty, but it’s not safe here anymore.”

Shane nodded, but his body was tense, and his breath was short and shallow. He took the gum but didn’t open it.

“I’m going to call the sheriff and have him put us up somewhere safe, and then we’ll take it from there. Okay?”

Shane nodded again, and his shoulders lowered .

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Wes vowed.

“But what about you?” Shane’s words were reedy, broken. “You’re a target now, because of me.”

“Oh, babe. No.” Wes rose and sat on the bed beside Shane. He pulled Shane into his arms and Shane burrowed deeper into him. “This is all on the stalker. Nothing is your fault. I’m going to be okay, and I’m going to make sure you’re okay, if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Don’t say that,” Shane snapped. “I have plans for you after this is all over.”

Wes’s breath caught. He didn’t know if Shane realized what he’d just said or not, but he hoped like hell there would be a them when his job was done. He brushed Shane’s bangs from his eyes and kissed his brow.

“Come on.”

He kept Shane within arm’s reach as they each threw a few things into a duffel bag. His jaw ached from clenching it so much, and his body was taut and poised to fight, to defend. Hyperaware of every sound and movement.

Wes snatched up the latest photo on the way out of the house.

“We got another photo,” he said without preamble as Levi met them at the foot of the veranda.

Levi looked at it, and his eyebrows pinched. “Son of a bitch.”

“Yeah. We’re leaving the ranch.” He shot a glance at Shane, whose gaze was intense as he stared straight ahead.

“But we’re all here to help,” Levi countered. “You can stay with one of us.”

Wes opened his truck and tossed the duffel bag behind the seat.

“I know, but the stalker has compromised the ranch. They’re here and they’re dangerous. They’ve already killed one person, and I won’t put anyone’s lives on the ranch at risk. Especially you guys. I’m going to have Nick put us up somewhere in town.” Wes motioned for Shane to climb into the cab before following suit. “I’ll have him put Matt or Essie on watch for us.”

“If you’re sure?”

“I am.”

Levi pursed his lips, clearly not happy about the turn of events, but nodded his head. A single, sharp movement. He huffed out a breath that clouded the air between them before the breeze carried it away. “Fine. Call us when you get there, and we’ll all meet up with you in the morning.”

“Will do.”

Wes fired up his truck. Levi trailed him as far as the main ranch, where he peeled off to head to his house while Wes carried on. Small white flakes danced in the twin spotlights of his headlights as the season’s first snow began to fall. He flashed a reassuring smile at Shane, who had taken his hand and threaded their fingers together, but his grip was tight. To the point of pain.

“Is this the best option?” Shane asked. There was a faint tremor in his voice that sparked a swell of anger in Wes at the stalker for putting there.

“For now.” Wes tried to keep his tone steady. “There are too many places for someone to hide on the ranch, even with all our cameras and my brothers here. We’ll be okay in town, with less open space to worry about and marked Havenridge Sheriff’s Department vehicles sitting on us.”

“Okay.”

Shane settled back into his seat, and Wes’s heart swelled at the complete trust Shane put in him. A trust he vowed never to break.

Shane didn’t speak as they drove down the long main access road and then turned south onto Route 103 toward Havenridge. Headlights appeared in the rearview mirror, blinking out as Wes crested the hill on Haverstall Mountain Road, but otherwise they were the only ones on the road. Nearing the bottom of the hill, coming into a turn where Thad had crashed that summer, bright headlights flashed in Wes’s mirrors and lit up the cab of the truck.

“The hell?” he growled.

The only other vehicle on the road had been a mile or so behind them, and now, out of nowhere, they had a tailgater. Adrenaline flooded his veins. He tightened his grip on the wheel while his mind ran scenarios that would keep them safe. Fresh snow covered the pavement. They were mere yards from the bend in the road at the bottom of the hill.

Shane twisted in his seat to look out the back and shielded his eyes. “Where did that guy come from? ”

A roof-mounted LED light bar flashed to life behind them, blasting a spotlight into the falling snow, reflecting it back and limiting Wes’s visibility.

“Shit. He’s getting closer,” Shane said with a shake in his voice. “Wes?”

Wes cursed under his breath, squinting against the blinding light. His heart jumped with a sense of impending doom. He couldn’t slow down and pull over with the guy right on him. He couldn’t speed up because they were almost at the turn. And snowy roads meant he couldn’t perform evasive maneuvers without the risk of losing control. Think !

“He’s going to hit us!” Shane shouted. The raw panic in his voice shot spikes of ice through Wes’s veins.

The driver of the vehicle behind them didn’t just hit them. They strategically struck the corner of Wes’s bumper. The force of the hit knocked the back end of Wes’s truck sideways and into a fishtail. He spun his wheel into the slide to regain control, but the other vehicle hit them again, sending them careening off the road. There was a momentary sense of weightlessness as the truck sailed airborne over the embankment.

Then all the lights blinked out.