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Meg didn’t know how she was going to bring herself to leave the ranch. Leave Jason.
Did she even have to?
Couldn’t things continue as they were? The MCC would have to hire someone to take her place once she left. Len had indeed gotten his ass fired for not showing up one time too many, and Brandon had started taking over the mechanic jobs on the ranch in addition to his other duties.
Okay, so maybe she didn’t want to live on the ranch forever, but a few more months of the life she was currently living would be so very nice.
Jason’s ribs had finally healed to the point that he was capable of handling all the training on his own. Zach had Meg helping Cody on the days that Shane was on the road, but on the days that Cody had office work or errands in town, she rode with Jason, helping him put miles on the colts, anticipating the evening when she’d slip out the back door of the main house and make her way to the back door of Jason’s cabin. She wasn’t trying to hide, but she wasn’t exactly sending up flares either.
Maybe it was the clandestine factor that made the sex so hot between them, hotter than it’d been two years ago, but it wasn’t the sex that kept her there until the early hours. She loved sleeping with Jason, listening to him breathe, feeling the length of his hard body against her back as he slept with one arm protectively clamped over her. Everything about the guy was protective.
Why?
What was he protecting her from? Himself? She hoped that wasn’t it, but feared it was. Their here and now, their time in the moment, was so good, so golden...
She wanted it to last.
Was that wrong? Or irresponsible?
Never in her life had she been able to relax until important matters were not only settled, but carved into stone, too. Yet here she was. Feeling alive. Ignoring the small voice that occasionally whispered that being in the moment was good, but the future couldn’t be avoided.
Meg didn’t want to ignore the future, but the here and now felt great and she was making up for time lost while being obsessed with perfect planning.
They’d been spending their nights together for almost three weeks when she bumped into Zach while slipping into the house through the back door well before dawn.
He just stared at her from where he stood—wearing a thermal top, plaid robe and sweatpants—in the kitchen. Then he shook his head and headed across the kitchen to the coffee pot. It was already loaded and ready to go, so he flipped the switch while Meg debated. It only took her a few seconds to come to a decision, and she walked past her bedroom door on into the kitchen where she leaned back against the counter.
“You’re...up early.”
“Yes.” Zach ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. “As are you.”
“Yeah. About that.”
Zach held up a hand, then turned to the cupboard and took down two coffee cups. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” He opened the fridge and took out the cream. “I kind of expected it to happen anyway.”
“Why?”
“Just the way Jason acted after you showed up.” She frowned at him, and he said, “The way you acted.”
“Do you care?”
“Should I? This isn’t a convent.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t want anyone...” fucking had been his exact term, but that hit a little too close to home “...messing with your crew.”
“I meant creating discord and disharmony in the ranks. That hasn’t happened.”
“Good to hear.” She gripped the counter tightly on either side of her. “Because I was wondering about staying on for a while, since you lost Len.”
“Len got himself fired.” Zach pulled the coffee pot out from under the drip and set his cup there instead. “If this was much slower, I’d have my mouth down there sucking it up as it brewed.”
Meg’s stomach started to unclench. Zach wasn’t all up in arms about the sanctity of his crew and his ranch.
He glanced over at her. “I don’t care if you stay, but no drama. If there’s drama, even though you’re family, you go. Jason has seniority.” Zach pulled his cup out and gestured toward hers as the coffee splattered and danced on the hot plate below.
“I can wait.”
He put the pot back under the drip and after pouring a big dollop of cream into his brew, started sipping. “I think you might be good for Jason. He’s definitely more relaxed in some ways. More uptight in others.”
“Uh...thanks?”
He gave a shrug. “Yeah—you’re probably good for him. So you guys can stop sneaking around.”
She almost said there was no sneaking, but the truth was that they weren’t being open about things either. “Okay.”
“How’re things going with Brandon?”
Meg smiled and took the cup from him. “Really good. He’s making progress. I think he’s going to be okay if he keeps practicing.”
“Another reason to keep you on.”
Jason had just gotten out of the shower when there was a knock on the door. Not Meg’s knock. A guy knock—higher on the door, harder. He opened the door and found Cody standing there, a distinctively shaped brown paper bag in his hand.
“You come bearing gifts?”
“Just part of a gift. I’m taking the rest home with me.”
Jason stood back. “Do come in.”
Cody looked around as he entered the small cabin. “I’m, uh, not disturbing anything?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Just checking.”
Jason rolled his eyes as he went for the shot glasses. Cody wasn’t exactly a master of tact. Or maybe it was just that he liked to give him shit.
“I’m alone.”
“Which leads me into my first question... What are your intentions toward my cousin?”
Jason almost dropped his shot glass. “What?”
Cody gave a shrug and held out the bottle. Jameson Black Label. Exactly what he needed. Jason put his glass beneath it and Cody poured. “I thought it best to jump right in.”
Jason tossed back the shot and held out his glass again, this time for a shot to nurse. “For what purpose?” As in did his friend think he was bad for Meg? The thought had all the doubts he’d been shoving out of his head crowding their way back in again.
“You fucked it up last time. I don’t want you to fuck it up again.”
Jason sat in the chair on the far side of the oak table as Cody poured his own shot. “Maybe fucking it up is my destiny.”
Cody shook his head. “If you make it that, it will be.”
“Not that this is any of your business, but...” He narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Just how is this your business?”
“Have you told her about your family?”
The only person he’d voluntarily told about his family was the guy sitting across the table from him. “No.”
“Do you intend to?”
“They’re not part of my life, so there’s a good chance I won’t.”
Cody set down his shot glass and leaned forward. “Good.”
“Good?”
“They aren’t part of your life. You left them behind. Now act like it.”
“I thought I was.”
Cody set his glass down with a small bang and leaned forward. “No. You’re acting like the rug is going to be pulled out from under you at any moment.” He picked his glass back up and gestured with it. “I promise you that your background won’t mean anything to Meg.”
“Know her that well, do you?”
“We have a genetic tie,” Cody muttered.
“I have one of those, too, and I still don’t know what the fuck my genetic ties are going to do at any given time. One of them tried to call me a few months ago.”
“Did you answer?”
“Of course not.” Because that would have involved bailing someone out of jail, or hiding them out or staking them in some illegal enterprise.
“Don’t let them control your choices for your future.”
“How do you know I’m doing that?”
“Eighteen months of eating sand together?”
Jason blew out a breath and pushed a hand through his hair. “If things don’t work out with Meg, you gonna cut my balls off or something?”
“No. But I am going to cut your balls off if you let your past get in the way of your future. With Meg or anyone. You’ve done it before.” Cody placed a forearm on the table and leaned on it, pointing at Jason as he said, “Don’t do it again.”
“Thanks, Mom.” And if he had done it before, it was only to protect the people he cared about from the people he was related to. If his family wanted something from him, like money, they weren’t above using the people he was close to, to get it.
Cody blew out a breath. “I’m afraid of your mom. Don’t call me that.”
Jason picked up the bottle and filled Cody’s glass, then set it back down again. “Let’s dissect your life for a while. Whatever happened to Angela?”
“She married someone else.”
“Rachel?”
“Same answer.”
“Commitment problem?” Because both Angela and Rachel were good women.
Cody shook a finger at him. “None of this pot calling the kettle black shit.”
Jason lifted his glass. “I’ll try to watch that.”
“See that you do.” Cody stared off across the small room for a few seconds, then looked back at Jason. “I guess the real reason I’m here is to tell you that even though you tackle everything alone, if you ever need someone to...talk to...about...anything...”
Jason let out a small huff of breath, but his chest swelled inside. Cody had been his first real friend. Still was his best friend. “You know that would be massively uncomfortable.”
Cody raised his glass again. “No one ever said that life was easy.”
Meg let herself out of the house and crossed the drive to where Jason was waiting in his truck. After Zach’s talk, she hadn’t shied away from openly spending time with him at the ranch, but this was the first time that they’d gone out in public since she’d arrived at the MCC—unless one counted that hot night at the Graff. She wasn’t, since that wasn’t planned. This was. When Brandon had asked who was coming to the payday blowout the day before—while everyone was gathered in the barn after work to see the wonder of Shane’s ’65 truck, which Brandon was in the process of refurbishing—Jason had said that he was. Then, in a bold public move, he asked Meg if she wanted to ride with him.
She couldn’t swear to it, but it seemed that a hush had fallen over the onlookers before she gave her answer...almost as if people were surprised that he’d essentially acknowledged what everyone already knew. They were seeing each other.
It was only a night out, but it felt huge. Like a big step in the direction that Meg wanted to head. She felt halfway nervous about it, as if this might be too much, too soon, but Jason seemed relaxed as he handed her into his truck.
“Ready to trip the light...whatever?”
“Fandango?”
He smiled down at her, his gray eyes crinkling at the corners. “I guess.”
She reached up to kiss him before letting him close the door behind her. Something had changed. He seemed more...open. Or maybe he was less edgy. Something was different.
She sat in the middle seat next to him so that their thighs touched as he drove. He’d lost their own private coin toss, putting him in the same boat as Zach, who was the designated driver for the rest of the crew—traveling in the crew cab Ford. When they got to Grey’s, she sat down next to Brandon at the three tables the crew had pushed together while Jason went to the bar to get the drinks. Brandon, Zach and Cody all shouted orders at him as he walked away. He came back empty-handed a few minutes later and took his seat next to Meg, resting his hand lightly on the back of her chair.
“Gracie will be here in a few.” In less than a few, a long-legged woman in form-fitting Wranglers showed up with two pitchers and five glasses. “Who lost the toss?” she asked.
Both Zach and Jason raised their hands. Gracie winked at both of them and headed back across the room. Beer was poured, conversations started. The topic turned to the benefits of owning versus leasing grazing land, and Meg found herself staring off across the bar. She had an opinion, but right now she was satisfied just being out with her cousins, Brandon and Jason. Especially Jason. She found his thigh under the table and squeezed. He continued to listen to Zach, but she saw his mouth twitch a little in response—a subtle lift of the corner, which told her that he felt good about the connection.
And that was when she realized that she loved him.
No matter how this all went down. No matter if she went her way and he went his, she loved the man.
He glanced over at her, their gazes connecting, and he smiled a little, then went back to the conversation. Meg was content to simply sip her beer and listen.
The music started and after the table emptied—even Zach had been commandeered out on to the dance floor by a rather attractive woman sitting at the table next to them—Jason got to his feet, held out his hand. Meg also stood, but her hand hovered a few inches above his. “Please tell me that you are not a two-step wonder.”
“I dance the old-fashioned way.” She put her hand in his and he led her to the floor, pulling her close with one hand on the top of the curve of her ass, and the other on the flat of her back. “I like contact,” he said simply.
Meg laid her head against his shoulder. “Thank goodness.”
He brought his arm all the way around her, holding her against him, rocking to the music until a pair of hands settled on their shoulders and firmly pulled them apart. “No, no, no,” Brandon said as he moved in between them. “This isn’t right.”
“What’s wrong about it?” Jason asked, dropping his hands by his sides.
“Do you know how to swing?”
“In the dance sense? No.”
Brandon rolled his eyes, then held out his hands—to Jason. “A quick lesson, since Meg refuses.”
Jason shot Meg a look, then shrugged and met Brandon’s challenge. Meg bit her lip, then fell back to the edge of the floor, while Brandon demonstrated some basic moves with Jason as his partner. “You’re leading. I’m the girl,” Brandon said.
“You hide it well,” Jason replied.
“Be serious.”
Meg heard Zach, of all people, cracking up behind her and she was suddenly filled with a sense of...rightness. This was a good crew, a good place to be. Her cousins...well, she wished she’d had the opportunity to know them better in the past. But she did now.
Brandon patiently schooled Jason for a few more minutes, then handed him over to Meg. “Give it a try.”
They did. It was bad. Everyone was laughing by the time the music ended and then Jason took Meg back into his arms and defiantly did his rocking slow dance as the next song started.
“Hopeless,” Brandon said as he twirled his partner past them.
Meg tightened her grip on Jason’s shoulder. “I like this kind of hopeless.”
He smiled down at her and she got the strong feeling that he did, too.
Jason was trying hard to believe what Cody had told him—that not all good things morph into a steaming pile of crap. That he could have a happy ending. Cody hadn’t used those words, but that had been his implication. And as he danced with Meg, held her close, felt her cheek move as she smiled against his shirt, he wanted to believe in happy endings, so he continued his battle to convince himself that disaster wasn’t looming right around the corner, as it always seemed to whenever his world seemed right.
Perfect did not feel natural to him and things had been a little too perfect lately, thus feeding his dark suspicion that fate had something up its sleeve. And, around eleven o’clock, that something arrived in the form of a tall red-bearded man who walked in the door just as Jason was escorting Meg back to the table. Jason’s muscles tensed as the door shut behind the guy. Meg shot him a quick look and somehow he managed to rip his gaze away from his brother and smile down at her.
She wasn’t fooled. “What?” She was already scanning the bar, and it wouldn’t take long for her to spot what didn’t belong in this picture, because Adam was hands down the tallest guy in the room.
“Nothing.” His brother probably didn’t expect to find him in the bar, but Jason had no delusions as to why he was in Marietta. Something bad had gone down in the family and he wanted a bailout. Or a hideout. Despite the fact that Jason had told him never again over a year ago. This is what he got for holding down a job in one locale—the people he didn’t want to find him, could.
He held out Meg’s chair and she sat, but he could tell by the way she held her body that she was tense because he’d been tense. So he tried his damnedest to relax, but it just wasn’t taking.
Underneath the table, Meg took his hand and laced her fingers through his as she talked to Brandon. Normally he would have welcomed the contact, but tonight...he would have to remain strong. Adam pushed his way up to the bar, shouldering between two guys when he didn’t have to. Typical. Jason focused on the table in front of him, the conversation buzzing around him, his fingers still laced with Meg’s.
Something bumped the table, startling him, but it was only Cody getting up from his chair, not Adam zeroing in on him. Before he dropped his gaze again, he met Zach’s eyes, and was glad that his boss had never met his brother. The two other times Adam had showed up, he’d called Jason and they’d met at the Wolf Den, a bar more in keeping with the crowd Adam ran with. Why he was in Grey’s tonight, Jason hadn’t a clue. That fate thing maybe. Destiny kicking him in the nuts.
Whatever, it was nothing short of a wake-up call. The one blessing was that since he didn’t expect to see him at Grey’s, Adam didn’t see him. He sat at the bar, nursing his beer. When he was done, he got off the stool and headed for the door. Jason held his breath, kept his chin down. It felt cowardly, but there was no way he was subjecting Meg to his asshole brother. He heard the door close, but kept his gaze down a few seconds longer before chancing a look.
“He’s gone,” Meg said.
Jason shot her a quick look, but she merely raised her eyebrows in a significant expression, then turned her attention back to Brandon. The woman was too damned intuitive. “We’ll talk later.”
She nodded and squeezed his fingers. Jason squeezed back, but the rock-in-the-pit-of-his-stomach feeling intensified. Adam wasn’t going to go away, which meant that Jason was going to have to run him down before he showed up at the ranch. Zach owed him some time, so if he couldn’t run Adam down tonight, he’d “go to the doctor” tomorrow. His wrist and ribs gave him a built-in excuse and he wasn’t above using it to spare his friends the pleasure of meeting his brother.
Fifteen minutes later, Jason scanned the street as he and Meg stepped out of Grey’s into the quiet of the cool Montana night. Megan buttoned her coat, then slipped her arm through Jason’s and they started walking the two blocks to where he’d parked his truck on the street, their boots echoing on the thankfully empty sidewalk. But that didn’t mean that Adam wouldn’t step out of a shadowed storefront at any moment. Zach, Cody and Brandon had gone the opposite direction, so if he did run into Adam, he had no backup.
And you won’t have backup later.
Would he need it? He put a hand to his ribs, testing, just in case he did have to get physical. With Adam, you never knew. Sometimes he used his words; sometimes he used his fists.
The street remained clear as he and Meg walked. He unlocked the truck and opened Meg’s door, handing her into the tall rig on his side. She slid over to the middle of the seat and fastened the seat belt as he got in. He shut the door and let out a relieved breath.
But the problem remained. Adam wasn’t in Marietta on vacay. He had a mission and Jason shuddered to think of what might be going down in his family now. He glanced over at Meg. She gave him an I-know-something’s-up-but-am-respecting-your-space look and he reached out to take her hand.
Grounded.
She turned to face the windshield and he started the truck. In the rearview mirror, he saw Zach’s truck pull out of a side street and he let it pass before putting his truck in gear. He waited until they were out of town, following the tail lights of the other MCC truck down Highway 89 before he spoke.
“That guy was my brother. Adam.”
He felt Meg draw in a breath, but it took her a few seconds to say, “I take it you’re not close.”
He gave a derisive snort.
“Gotcha.” She reached out to put her hand on his thigh and leaned in to him.
“The only time I see any member of my family is when they’re in trouble. Deep trouble. Need money kind of trouble.”
“I see.”
“They’re not good people, Meg.”
They drove a few miles in silence, then Meg turned her hand over, laced her fingers with his. “What kind of trouble?” she finally asked.
He was shutting down, as he always did when his family was involved, but he forced himself to open his mouth, shove out a few words. “Anything’s possible, judging from experience, but I can guarantee you that it’s something they brought on themselves.”
“Does your brother know you work for the MCC?”
“Yes, but he’s never been there. I blocked his number from my phone, so I guess this is important enough for a personal visit.” And damned if he was going to let the guy come to the ranch.
The brake lights came on ahead of them and Jason automatically slowed. Three deer bounded across the road in front of Zach’s rig, illuminated briefly in the headlights before disappearing into the shadows. He needed to stay on the alert, not let the issue with Adam distract him to the point that he totaled his truck or some shit like that.
“What are you going to do?”
She wasn’t going to like what he was going to do, so he said, “We’ll probably talk at some point and I’ll send him on his way.”
“That easy?” She sounded justifiably suspicious.
“He can’t take what I don’t have, and I’ve socked all of my extra money away in places where it’s hard to get at.” His ranch fund. Which he wasn’t touching.
“Then he’ll go away?”
“He’ll have no reason to hang in Marietta.”
Jason pulled his hand away from Meg’s and set it on the wheel as they turned off Highway 89 onto the road leading east to the MCC, and he kept it there, telling himself it helped him concentrate on the road instead of on Meg. She straightened in her seat, her thigh pulling a little way away from his.
Okay, he was shutting down. He needed to shut down, figure out how to deal with this shit in the most effective way possible. When they got to the ranch twenty minutes later, Jason took Meg’s arm as she got out of the truck and then pulled her close, bringing his forehead down to touch hers. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, drawing her sweet scent into his lungs. She slid her hands up his chest, onto his shoulders and for a long moment they stood under the bluish sodium light.
“It’s late,” he finally said.
“Yeah.” She pulled back, raised her chin and gave him a soft, lingering kiss. An I-understand-you-need-your-time-alone kiss, which in turn caused him to be rocked by an insane need to protect her from...everything.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said as he stepped back.
She gave her head a small shake. “Day off. I’m getting my hair cut and my toenails painted.”
He forced a smile. “I like those little flowers.” Meg’s fingernails were short and unpolished, but her pink toenails with the swirly white flowers had been a surprise.
“I’ll get more.”
Jason stood next to his truck as Meg headed toward the house. Zach opened the door from the inside as she came up the steps. She glanced back at him and he gave her a nod. A few seconds later the upstairs lights came on and the kitchen light went off.
And then Jason got back into his truck.
The Wolf Den was still fairly crowded, even though it was well past last call, and sitting alone at the end of the scarred-up bar was his brother. Jason drew in a breath of sour air and crossed the room. Adam looked up when he was a few yards away.
“I wondered if you were going to come.”
“You saw me at Grey’s?”
“Sitting with your merry band of cowboys, pretty little cowgirl by your side.”
Jason’s hands started to curl into fists, and he made a conscious effort to unclench his fingers. His brother was a master at reading people, zeroing in on weaknesses. The best way to protect his friends was to pretend he didn’t care about them.
Adam gestured at the stool next to him, but Jason stayed where he was, out of reach. He’d been knocked off a stool before and wasn’t going to let it happen again.
“Tell me what you want.”
Adam glanced around, then brought his gaze back to Jason. He wasn’t drunk or stoned, but the years of use hadn’t done him any favors. He was five years older than Jason, but looked a good ten years older than that. “I need a loan.”
Jason shook his head. “No way. I don’t have it.”
“Bullshit. I know you. You work and you save.” Adam’s mouth curled into a disgusted smirk. “You need the security of money, so don’t fuck with me. You have it.” His gaze strayed down to Jason’s injured wrist. “What happened to you?”
“Got jumped by an asshole in a parking lot.”
Adam gave a slow nod. “Could happen again.”
“Still not going to get you money. Not that it matters, but why do you need it?”
“Pay a loan.”
Jason rubbed his hand over his forehead. It was always to ‘pay a loan,’ although, in reality, the money was seed money for whatever operation Adam was about to embark on. Meth. Repackaging drugs. Hell, he could be going into the legal marijuana business.
“For real this time.” Adam pulled out a pack of cigarettes and, ignoring the no smoking sign, lit up. The bartender looked the other way. It was after closing. “I have half. Need the other half. Guys are getting nasty. They’re threatening Mom.”
“Mom will have to deal with this without me.”
“Kind of cold.”
“I wonder why?”
“You’re still part of the family, Jase.”
“No.”
Adam smiled nastily. “Yeah. You are. Because we’re not letting go.” He stabbed the cigarette in Jason’s direction. “You fucked us over when you left. We let you get away with it. But you owe us...in fact, you owe us almost exactly what I need.”
“I paid you back.”
“I don’t remember that. Besides...” He flicked ashes on the floor. “How do you pay back lost trust?”
Un-fucking-believable.
“I’m not giving you shit, Adam.” He’d given his brother and cousins money while he’d been in the service—because he’d owed them money—but as soon as the debt was paid, he’d said no. Meant no. No money. No hiding out. Nothing.
The thing about bullies—they didn’t like the word no. And they tended to be tenacious in their requests.
“You think I’m going to accept that?” Adam asked with a sneer.
He wasn’t going to have a choice. Jason glanced down at the worn wood at the base of the bar, frowning thoughtfully. Then he slowly raised his gaze, zeroing in on his brother’s malicious face. “I can’t believe you’re vertical and don’t have a warrant or two.” The shift in Adam’s expression told him, yes, there were outstanding warrants. Jason pulled out his phone and squinted across the bar at the phone list posted there. Dispatch was at the top. He started to dial, only to stop when Adam made a grab for his phone, knocking it on the floor where it slid under a table.
“That’s enough.”
The bartender, who’d ignored the smoking, and turned a deaf ear to the loud argument going on near the door of the establishment, spoke in a deadly voice. “You.” He pointed at Adam. “Put your ass back on that stool. You’re going to let your brother walk out of here. Jason...you’re going to walk out of here.” The barkeep gestured at Adam with his chin. “He’s going to stay put for five minutes. When he leaves, I’ll give him ten and then I’m calling dispatch. Problem solved.” He put two meaty palms on the bar and leaned forward. “Questions?”
Adam’s face was getting red. Jason held his gaze as he stooped and picked up his phone, his lip curling as he saw the shattered screen. He dropped the phone into his pocket and took a backward step. Experience had taught him long ago just how quick his brother could be and how dangerous it was to turn his back on him.
“Go,” the bartender ordered, and Jason headed for the door.
“You owe us that money, Jason.” Adam called the warning just as the door swung shut. Jason went straight for his truck. He didn’t believe that Adam would stay in the Wolf Den for five minutes—not unless the bartender and a couple of his guys held him there—so he got into his truck, fired it up and drove a couple of blocks down the street before turning the engine back off. Sure enough, Adam came barreling out of the bar, stopping just outside the door to search the streets. Jason pulled out his shattered phone and dialed dispatch, thankful that it still worked.
“Yeah. There’s a big red-headed guy threatening people on Main Street.”
And then he hung up. When the sheriff’s car came down the street, he started his truck and pulled out, driving out of town without looking back.
He hoped the warrants were for something spectacular.
