Letting Hearts Heal (18 page)

“I can help,” Wyatt informed him when he dragged out the supplies. “Mommy says I’m good at cleaning.”

Dean’s gaze met Mason’s over the top of Wyatt’s head. Had Diana made Wyatt clean, or had he just had fun helping her? Dean couldn’t ask because Wyatt had no way of judging if he’d been taken advantage of. The whole thing left a sour taste in Dean’s mouth, and he made sure that Wyatt didn’t do too much. Helping was fine, and light chores were part of growing up, but Dean promised himself that he’d never take advantage of his son.

When they were finished, Dean spent an hour in his office before cooking up a big pot of chili. When he was a kid, he had joked that Mrs. McMahon was cooking for all of Montana. But now he was wiser. She’d only been cooking enough for everyone on the ranch.

Mason liked to get all the hands together sometimes, and the chili had become a tradition that he tried to uphold roughly once a month. Wyatt’s arrival had thrown him off his game, but he was determined to maintain his relationship with his employees.

“Did the washing machine break down, forcing you to boil your clothes on the stove?” Mason asked as he entered the kitchen with Wyatt hot on his heels. Apparently they’d finished their broom race, whatever that was. It had just sounded like they’d had a great time.

“Funny,” Dean commented.

“I thought so.” Mason grabbed a bottle of water and a juice brick from the fridge. He made no attempt to get close enough to the stove to peer into the pot. “But seriously, what are you making?”

“Chili. I sometimes make up a big pot and have the hands over.”

“Nice.”

Remembering that Wyatt didn’t like spicy food, Dean started up a small portion for him in another pot. He would score some easy points with the kid and add peas near the end.

“I like watching you cook,” Mason said a little while later, after Wyatt left to go play. “You look sexy and
almost
like you’re in charge.”

“Gee, thanks. If I’m not in charge of this chili, who is?”

“The chili, maybe.”

“What a confidence boost. You’d better behave, or I’m evicting you from my kitchen.” Dean put the lid on the pot and checked his watch.

“And deny me my eye candy? How cruel.”

“So I’m all beauty and no brains, is that what you’re saying?”

Mason chuckled. “I set myself right up for that one, didn’t I?”

“Yep. Now, are you going to help me with some paperwork while this cooks, or what?”

“I suppose I won’t be getting any better offers, so why not? Just don’t give me anything too difficult. Dyslexic, remember?”

“I remember,” Dean replied. “I also remember that you’re smarter than that. You’re hiding behind excuses. There’s plenty you can do.”

They spent a couple of hours in the office. Dean hadn’t thought through being cooped up with Mason, watching his tongue peek out of the corner of his mouth while he concentrated on reading something. Wyatt ran in and out of the office, so mounting Mason was out of the question. Dean didn’t get half as much done as he would have if he’d been alone.

Dinner with the hands was always entertaining. Dean had brought together a colorful bunch of guys who’d seen and done a bit of everything. Qualifications weren’t the main thing when he hired someone. He looked for enthusiasm and personality. And his hands all shared Dean’s vision and worked hard to make it happen.

They shared jokes and stories around the dinner table. Mason blended in perfectly, and Wyatt listened intently, probably not understanding half of what was said, while he dug into his pea chili. Dean was starting to think he might not be out of the running for Father of the Year, after all.

“I keep getting questions about catering when I deliver to the store,” Cameron, one of the hands, said during the meal. A few others said they’d experienced the same thing. “Is that something you’re considering, boss?”

“Eventually, yes. I just need a chef. I also have a dream of opening a restaurant in town.” Dean did his best not to look at Mason, not wanting to put any pressure on him. “A lot of things have to come together first, though.”

“Can’t be easy finding a chef around here,” Mike remarked. “Lydia from the diner advertised for months before finding that guy she has now.”

Dean couldn’t help himself anymore. He glanced quickly at Mason, who was staring intently at his plate. Dean wished he knew what Mason was thinking. Not about to ask, he decided to change the subject. “How’s it looking with the cattle?”

As the chatter continued, Mason lifted his head and granted Dean a small smile—a small, very relieved smile.

“H
EY
, M
ASE
?
I need a hand in here.”

Dropping the root celeries he was collecting, Mason wiped his hands on his jeans. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Wyatt, Joe, and Mike.

Dean was stacking boxes in the other polytunnel, looking all sexy. Of course, Dean looked sexy all the time, no matter what he was doing.

“What do you need my help with?”

“Come over here,” Dean said without looking up.

“Bossy,” Mason muttered, half amused.

As he passed, Dean pulled him into a hard and needy embrace. He assaulted him with the most delicious kiss, and Mason returned it with a groan.

“God, I needed that.”

Mason chuckled. “Me too.”

Foreheads resting against each other and breath mingling, Mason slid his hands into Dean’s back pockets. “We just spent nine years apart, yet I seem to miss you when you’re just a couple of yards away.”

“Sap.” Dean smiled. “I know what you mean. There was no way I could go another minute without at least a kiss.”

“Now who’s the sap?”

“You are.” Dean leaned in for another kiss, softer this time, and explored Mason like he didn’t already know him inside out.

Mason let himself float away, getting lost in the scent, taste, and feel of Dean. Mason shamelessly ground his erection against Dean. Maybe if they were quick and quiet, they could manage a hand job before anyone missed them.

That dream was crushed when someone cleared their throat. Reluctant to let Dean go, Mason got in one more kiss and Dean started to pull away. Hoping his erection wasn’t too visible, Mason turned around. Dean did the same, flushing lightly.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, boys,” Joe said, not looking the least bit bothered. “But Wyatt says he needs the bathroom.”

“Thanks, Joe.” Dean smiled. “I’ll take him inside and then be back in a bit to finish up here.”

“Sorry,” Joe said to Mason after Dean left. “The boy only wanted his daddy.”

“It’s okay.” Although Mason would have loved a few more minutes in heaven with Dean, he didn’t mind that Wyatt came first. It was how it was supposed to be. And awkward as the interruption had been, he also liked that Joe didn’t seem to mind that his boss went around kissing guys instead of girls.

“Seems like you figured it out. I’m happy for you.” Winking, Joe went back to work.

Mason joined him. “Thanks.”

Dean decided to take everything to town, as he needed to talk to Karen. Mason offered to look after Wyatt, but ended up going with Dean instead.

“Go on, me and Wyatt will go check on the horses while you’re in town,” Joe said, holding out his hand for Wyatt. Sold on the prospect of seeing the horses, Wyatt was already dragging Joe toward the stables.

Mason grinned and helped Dean load the truck, and within minutes they were on their way. In town, they unloaded the boxes of vegetables, meat, and dairy products, and Dean went into the office to talk with Karen. Mason chatted with some customers and helped Pete wrap up a large order a local catering business had put in.

“Wanna go look at flower seeds?” Dean asked when they were back out on the street.

“Flower seeds?”

Dean nodded. “I want to add bouquets and maybe small potted plants to our selection. We’ve got the space, and Cameron’s got some experience working at a nursery in Livingston. He’s given me a list of suitable plants.”

Smiling, Mason squeezed Dean’s hand. “It never ends with you, does it? There will always be one more idea, one more thing that you want to try out.”

“Probably. The sky’s the limit.”

Mason saw the exact moment when Dean got distracted. He was looking at someone coming toward them on the sidewalk.

Dean yanked his hand away, took half a step away from Mason, and smiled pleasantly at the woman approaching them. “Hello, Mrs. Morgan.”

Mason tuned everything out as the universe grabbed him in a chokehold and brought him back to a smoke-filled sidewalk in Manhattan. Dean became Pierre who became his mother. Mason felt empty—hollowed out and stretched too thin. What was it about him that made everyone ashamed of him?

His biological mother with the sweet smile and the new family hadn’t wanted anyone to know about her grown son. “You can’t call me, but I’ll call you when I can. Maybe we can have lunch. My husband wouldn’t approve of my past,” she’d said, breaking Mason’s heart all over again. He’d never felt more alone.

Pierre hadn’t made him feel alone, but he’d made him feel dirty. Mason couldn’t see through the Frenchman’s motives at first—he’d even agreed that a workplace romance was better hidden in a competitive restaurant environment. But the night of the fire, when everything had been chaos, smoke, devastation and fear, Mason had needed Pierre’s arms around him. Instead, Pierre had ignored him. A bad burn throbbing on his arm, smoke in his lungs, and rejection had hit him straight in the gut. Mason had believed him when he said he loved him.

Mason’s mother and Pierre had only left palm impressions on his soul when they slapped him. But Dean’s rejection was sure to make Mason crumble to pieces as soon as he remembered how to function.

He’d always assumed Dean was out. Assumed. Never asked. How could he have been so stupid?

“Mason?”

Crashing back into the present, Mason saw Dean and Mrs. Morgan looking at him with concern.

“Are you all right, dear?” the woman asked. “You look like you might faint.”

“Mason?” Dean’s voice was softer, but somehow off.

“I need to go.” Mason couldn’t stomach being polite and he wasn’t the kind of man for making scenes. He just needed to breathe. His lungs were still filled with smoke. Or maybe they weren’t. Mason couldn’t remember which of his reoccurring nightmares he was in at the moment.

Stumbling down the street, Mason had no idea where he was going. He didn’t care either. Unshed tears burned in his eyes, and he cursed himself for being such an idiot.

“Mason? Mason, wait up.”

“Leave me alone.”

Dean caught up and stopped Mason from going any further. Now that they were away from Mrs. Morgan’s prying eyes, Dean closed his hands around Mason’s forearms. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? You don’t look well.”

“I’m serious, Dean. I can’t do this right now. Leave me alone before I say something neither one of us wants to hear.”

“I’ll leave you alone if you really want me to, but not before you tell me what’s wrong. I’m going crazy here.”

Mason met Dean’s gaze for a second, but that was enough to realize that Dean had no clue why Mason’s heart was breaking. That just made it hurt more. “I won’t be your dirty little secret too, Dean.”

Later, when he was sitting in a corner at the coffee shop with his hands around a warm cup, Mason went over what had happened. The hand that Dean had let go of was still cold even though he’d had it wrapped around the coffee cup since the waitress brought it to him.

In the grand scheme of things, it probably wasn’t a big deal to have the man you loved be ashamed of you in public. No one had died or declared war. But it hurt. And it hurt even more when you’d tried it before. Mason didn’t know if he put too much trust in people or if he had a sign on his forehead that said
idiot.
His entire soul was soaked in love for Dean and Wyatt Walker. But much as he loved Dean, there was no way that Mason’s future included being anyone’s secret. Not even his. Part of him knew that he was reacting to more than a dropped hand in public—part of him knew that it wasn’t a normal reaction. But it was his reaction, and because he felt as fragile as a china teacup inside, he’d allow himself to react anyway he wanted until he’d overanalyzed himself and gotten to the bottom of it. Of Dean’s actions and his own reactions.

Mason sat at the coffee shop until it got dark outside. He didn’t feel like facing Dean yet, nor did he have a way of getting to the ranch except for walking, which he didn’t feel like doing in the dark. He’d have to walk out there in the morning to get his things. His heart crumbled further when he thought about leaving. At least he had enough money for a hotel, this time.

When he crossed the street, a car horn honked at him. In the dark, all he could see was a pair of headlights. He didn’t stop, but the car pulled up alongside him. That’s when he saw that it was Dean.

“I meant what I said, Dean. Go away.”

“Not happening.” Dean drove further ahead, sloppily parked, and jumped out.

“I’m going crazy, Mase. What the hell is going on?” Dean looked almost as haggard as Mason felt. Dean truly didn’t get it.

Mason shook his head. He was going to start bawling like a baby if he tried to talk.

Chapter 15