Noah unlocked the truck, and they hopped in, Noah getting the heater going. “It’s June! Jesus, that’s cold.”

  “Yeah. At least it’s not snow.” Down here, he thought. Up at the ranch, it wasn’t impossible.

  “Stoney and Ford said we might get some. I thought they were shitting me.”

  “No. Let’s get a move on, huh? Are you comfortable driving?”

  “I can do it, no worries.”

  The canyon would be fine, but once they turned up out of Glenwood toward the ranch, it could get hairy. They’d just have to see.

  “Lead on, MacDuff.”

  They headed out, and for a while the rain let up, especially up around Island Acres. They hit it again at the end of DeBeque Canyon, though, and damned if it didn’t start sleeting as they headed up toward the ranch.

  Noah’s hands were white-knuckled on the wheel, and Mason shook his head. This didn’t work. It would be a shitty wedding if the bride’s brother died in a car accident.

  “You want to stop for the night? It’s already taken more than an hour longer than it should, and my condo is ten minutes away.”

  “No shit?”

  “Yeah. Just stay on this road into Aspen instead of turning up.”

  Noah nodded and blew out a breath. “Good deal. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. I have coffee and whiskey and a gas fireplace.” He’d let Noah have his bed, and he’d crash on the sofa.

  “I like the sound of that. Who the heck has ice storms in June?”

  “Welcome to the mountains. Okay, so we turn off here.” Driving in town was way easier—the roads were better, and the city was on it. He got them parked in his little covered spot, doing his best to not notice the way Noah’s hands shook.

  The guy was probably used to tornados, but this kind of driving was an acquired skill, right?

  Noah smiled, the lines around his eyes and mouth looking a little deep. “You said whiskey?”

  “I did. Come on up. It’s better when you’re in and warm and relaxed.”

  He was on the third floor with this amazing view, the whole back of the condo glass. The place was tiny—TV, couch. The breakfast nook was his office, and the bedroom was mostly bed.

  Noah followed him up, and it occurred to him he’d have to find something for the man to wear to bed, at least. Unless Noah slept naked. On his sheets. Oh man.

  Stop it, Mason, you stupid perv.

  Surely there was something….

  Yeah, no. Noah had eight inches on him, easy, and it was all leg. The idea of Noah wearing his pajama pants was ludicrous. He could wash Noah’s clothes, if need be.

  “Lord. Cold.” He could hear Noah’s teeth chattering.

  “Come in and settle by the fire.” He had a remote and turned it on, grabbing a blanket off the back of the sofa. “Give me your shirt and I’ll wash it. I know I have a sweatshirt that will fit you.”

  “Thanks.” Noah stripped off his shirt, his chest and belly ripped with muscle, broad and hard.

  Mason’s lips went a little numb. Hello. He caught himself staring. “Sh-shirt, whiskey, and coffee. Be right back.”

  Oh fuck. Pretty. Genuinely pretty.

  He was as shallow as the next guy sometimes. Mason took Noah’s shirt so he could turn away, heading for his little stackable washer and dryer. He left the shirt and his own on the lid, then went to grab sweatshirts and warm socks.

  Noah would just have to do a blanket or wet pants on the bottom.

  “Are you a ‘don’t touch my coffeemaker’ kind of guy?” Noah called.

  “Not at all. K-Cups are in the cabinet right above.”

  “I’ll fire it up, then.”

  He thought maybe Noah liked to feel useful. Mason understood. He hated perching on someone’s couch and doing nothing.

  Especially half-naked.

  He did have a couple of sweatshirts that ought to work, plus socks, so he grabbed them and toed off his boots, texting Ford as he did.

  Spending night in Aspen. All is well.

  Getting snow here. People are tickled. Have Wright call sister.

  Will do. We hit sleet.

  Ack.

  Yeah. See u 2morrow morning

  Nite.

  He tucked his phone into the pocket of his robe. “Ford says to call your sister. I’ll take over the coffee making.”

  “Gotcha.” Noah took the sweatshirt he offered, then tugged it on. Good thing he’d bought that one big to go over layers.

  “I brought you some warm socks too. You want the whiskey on the rocks or in your coffee?” Dear Mr. Wright, Would you be taken aback if I licked your belly? Yeah? Bummer. Disappointed but understanding, Me.

  “In the coffee is fine. Man, I ought to sleep like a rock. How do you drive in this shit?”

  “Snow tires and chains. I grew up in Vail, man. I’ve never spent a winter anywhere else.”

  “Ah.” Noah nodded. “I get it. People ask how we can stand floods and tornados. I mean, we get some snow in Dallas. A little ice. But in June? Shit.”

  “Yeah. I hear you. It’s not too common, and it won’t stick.”

  At least the family that was staying in the yurts weren’t there yet….

  “The weather is supposed to be perfect the day of the ceremony,” Noah murmured. “Let me call Sammy.”

  “Sure. Sure, I’ll be in with coffee. Sit by the fire.”

  “Thanks.” He got a faint smile before Noah bundled up on his couch with a blanket, Noah’s phone appearing out of nowhere, it seemed.

  He started the laundry and made up the coffee, feeling a little like he was a stranger in his own house.

  “Hey. No, we’re fine. Yes, we got all your stuff. Seriously?” Noah’s warm chuckle made him smile. “Okay. I heard. It was sleet down here, so we’re going to. No. No, I will not. Night. Bye. Bye!”

  “Here’s your coffee. Is the fire helping?”

  “It’s great. Thanks. I like your place. It’s wee, but everything has a function.”

  “I bought it for the view.” And because he wanted to be on the top floor.

  “Is it amazing?” Noah peered out his window. “I mean, it’s kinda black right now.”

  “It’s stunning.” He headed over and pointed to the mass of black. “You see that? That’s the mountains.”

  “That’s too cool. Not much of a view in Dallas unless you mean the skyline.” Noah set aside his phone. “There’s a hum to it, though. A vibe.”

  “Sure. We’re tiny here. It’s a different world.” Noah Wright had a plane, for God’s sake. Planes. He had an SUV crossover and a one-bedroom apartment.

  “It’s not bad. Just so different.” Noah leaned his head back and closed his eyes a moment. “This is weird. Not having anything to do.”

  Mason stood and changed the sheets for Noah, then sat at the desk, checking to see if Noah was awake or not.

  “I really don’t bite,” Noah said, watching him. “You can come sit and watch the news or whatever.”

  “I was trying to let you rest.” He was trying to be nice. “You look worn-out.”

  “So do you.” Noah patted the seat next to him. “Come on, honey.”

  He walked over and sat beside Noah in a daze, the fire hypnotizing as it danced. He did love his little gas log. There was something primal about fire, even if the smell of woodsmoke had to come from his more distant neighbors.

  “Did you get you a little shot of something yummy, Mason?”

  “I did.” And it was going right to his head.

  “Yeah. Makes us better people, huh?” That drawl was so deep. Like slow-running molasses.

  “That’s the rumor. Makes things a little easier.”

  “Like lube.”

  He blinked. Click. “Yes, exactly. Emotional lube.”

  Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.

  Noah snorted, this truly rip-roaring sound, and they were off again, laughing just like they had in the truck in Grand Junction. He was leaning against Noah, almost howling with pure joy.

  God, it felt good to let go and just wail with laughter. He thought it had been years.

  “Damn, honey. When you let yourself laugh….” Noah looked at him like he was… hell, like he was worth staring at.

  The laughter faded, and his cheeks heated again. It had to be the booze and the fire. Had to. All they needed was a fuzzy rug and it was a lead-in to a porno.

  Boom chicka wow wow.

  Christ.

  Okay, get up, go to the bathroom. Put some space between you.

  He half rose, pushing himself up on one arm, but Noah caught his free wrist, the momentum tugging him the rest of the way around​. “Hey, I didn’t mean to—”

  His feet slipped out from underneath him, and his belly smacked against Noah’s belly, pushing all his breath out of him.

  “Oof.” Noah caught his hips with both hands, and they stared at each other for a long moment. Then, just like in the movies, Noah pressed up to kiss him, their lips meeting warm and sweet. He took a deep breath, intending to pull back, back off, when Noah’s tongue slid in between his lips, tasting him.

  Mason gasped, melting into Noah a little. This was all wedding excitement. What harm could it do to bask in the attention for a minute?

  Noah cupped the back of his head and pulled him in tight, groaning harshly as the kiss went deeper. One arm clamped around his back, not so hard he was worried, but definitely keeping him in place.

  The man might not be into love, but he sure knew how to kiss, leaving Mason panting, his body on fire. His cock was heavy and full, his balls aching with a sudden need.

  Noah pulled him up a little tighter, squeezing them together until he couldn’t breathe.

  They shifted to get a better angle on the kiss, their tongues tangling. Mason tried to hump a little, and that was when it all went terribly wrong.

  Noah’s grip slipped, and he dangled a moment before falling right into Noah’s lap.

  “Urgh.” Noah grunted and shoved him off onto the floor with a thud.

  He rattled a second, then blinked up from his spot. Okay. Ow. And also, what the ever-loving fuck was he thinking?

  Kissing a client?

  Fuck, he was a dipshit.

  “Are you okay?” Hell, was he okay?

  Noah looked down, his eyes actually watering. “Squashed my balls, man. Sorry I dumped you on the floor.”

  “No problem.” He sat up and moved to the window, eyes searching the sky, and he fought for something to say that straddled the gap between “Oh my God, I’m sorry” and “Dude, you dropped me on the floor” and “Please don’t fire me.”

  He settled on “Do you need an ice pack?”

  “No.” Noah shook his head, his smile rueful. “I’m okay if you are. I think I might sack out, though. Do you have a blanket for the couch?”

  “I changed the sheets on the bed for you. Feel free.”

  “Hey, I can’t put you out of your bed.” Noah frowned a little. “This blanket will be fine. I, uh, don’t guess you have an extra toothbrush?”

  “I do. They come in threes, and the bed is yours. I fit on the sofa, after all.”

  “I—okay, but if you wake up with a crick in your neck, I didn’t do it.”

  “Fair deal.” If he woke up with a crick, he could go get a massage Saturday night.

  “Thanks for today, Mason. I had a ball. So to speak.” Noah rose, blanket around his waist.

  “It was something else, absolutely. I’ll put some towels and the extra toothbrush out in the bathroom for you.”

  “Thank you.” Noah headed into the bedroom, leaving him and his once again flaming cheeks alone.

  He put out the toiletries, poured another cup of coffee, then sat at his computer so he could log on to Skype. He had to know somebody who wanted to talk to the guy who couldn’t do something right with detailed instructions.

  Chapter 7

  T here were two hundred people.

  Noah felt a bit like a panicked horse. He hoped his eyes weren’t rolling, but God. His baby sister was about to get married, and there were two hundred people.

  “You ready, Daddy?” he asked.

  “Yes, son. I’m ready for all this nonsense to be over so that Samantha can be home and settled.”

  “I know. She’s so flighty.” He winked at Doug’s brother, who was still fiddling with his tie.

  Bryan winked at him. “Are you going to dance with me at the reception, Noah? The media will all be gone by then….”

  Right. Media. Mason had stood there with his teeth in his mouth when Sammy had informed them that she’d had her publicist in contact with a number of reporters and that they would need a place for them and all their equipment.

  The man had dealt with it, but Mason had a visible tic now.

  It sharpened every time Mason looked at his assistant, Trevor. Who had hooked up with Bryan….

  “Uh, not this time, buddy. I’ll leave that to the twink in the ruffles.”

  Bryan laughed, and Daddy and the other groomsmen snickered. Daddy had taken the proliferation of gayness pretty damned well. Stoney and him had become best buds and had done a lot of fishing.

  “Mr. Wright, sir. I have Frank and his top hat here, sir.” Quartz was dressed in his cowboy finery, the hat hiding the boy’s eyes.

  “Thank you, Quartz. I’ll take him from here.” He was reduced to leading the ring bearer into the service. Lord.

  Sammy intended to ride in on one of the ranch’s horses, and Noah was praying she didn’t fall off into the dust.

  They had Tanner as a wrangler, and Noah knew the man had been told that Sammy was pregnant. The whole ranch would be on alert.

  “We’re ready for Noah and Frank. Mr. Wright, sir? As soon as Sammy rides in, you’ll meet her at the head of the carpet to walk her down the aisle.” Mason was there, bustling, his radio in hand.

  “You got it, kiddo.” Daddy clapped Mason on the back. “You’re three hours away from getting paid.”

  “Shh.” Mason winked, but that tic popped a moment.

  Noah owed the guy a bucket of whiskey.

  “Come on, Frank. No farting.”

  Quartz laughed, following at a distance. He would wrangle Frank again when the ring part of the ceremony was over. Noah just had to get the drooly beast down the aisle without him eating the yellow rose petals the flower girls tossed.

  Mason disappeared about the time Sammy showed.

  T he ceremony itself was quick and simple, with a healthy dose of laughter and a few tears.

  Just as a good wedding ought to be, he thought. Fast, funny, and meaningful.

  The younger flower girl and Frank taking a moment to groom each other on the way down the aisle, complete with ear licking and shrieking giggles, made the whole thing complete.

  When Brother Jeffries pronounced them man and wife, a cheer went up, and the world lit up with flashes.

  Somewhere it had to be Miller time.

  Quartz slid up beside him to take Frank, who was panting, stressed from the noise. “I’ll take him somewhere quiet for a nap, sir.”

  “Good man. Thank you.”

  The photographer had taken pictures of Frank with Sammy and Doug earlier in the day. Also a good man.

  After the endless family pictures, they swept into the reception with barely any time to breathe, arriving to a breathtaking array of nibbles.

  The cake was easily five feet tall and covered in sugar bluebonnets and sunflowers, Indian paintbrushes and coneflowers. Stunning. Utterly magical.

  “Oh, Noah, look.” Momma had misty eyes, but she wore a big smile, and it felt good, knowing she was pleased. “Lovely. You did a fabulous job. I’m so proud of you.”

  He gave her a hug. “There’s an amazing team here. Did you see these cameras? Take my picture!” He kinda felt like a kid again for a moment, giddy with relief that the whole thing had actually happened.

  They were laughing and drinking, taking pictures and goofing off. It was amazing.

  Then Sammy and Doug walked in, and it was better.

  Sammy made the rounds, her dress short in front and long in back to show off her Lucchese boots. Her hair was sliding out of the bun her stylist had so painstakingly rolled, and she was five again in that instant, smiling at him with that little gap between her two front teeth.

  “You happy, little girl?”

  “Oh, Ark. Thank you. It’s perfect!” She grabbed him, and he spun her around, catching sight of Mason out of the corner of his eye. The man had dark bags under his eyes that he could pack enough clothes for a three-week cruise in.

  He’d done every damned thing the kids had asked and then some, and he was an amazing kisser on top of that. Kisses. He kissed Sammy’s cheek. “I love you, baby girl. You be happy.”

  “I will. You arranged the surprise? In the car?”

  “I did, just like you wanted.”

  “Smile!” Bryan snapped their picture with a Polaroid.

  “Thank you. Okay, I’m off to cornhole with my husband!”

  “Too much information!” He tugged off his jacket, because formal pictures were over. He grabbed a plate of tiny food before heading to the command center in the kitchen tent to see what he could do. Geoff had decided that was the best use of space.

  He wanted to see Mason. The man had made him breakfast and coffee, then had been on the phone the whole drive up to the ranch. Since then, he hadn’t been able to speak about that kiss, even once.

  Noah figured maybe Mason thought that was fine, but he wanted…. Hell, what did he want? He wanted to get to know Mason better, at least.

  “What are you doing in here, honey?” Geoff asked, laughing. “You are supposed to be celebrating!”

  “I am! I’m not very good with that much crowd.” He could be, if he had to, but he preferred not to deal with all the social niceties. “What can I do? I feel like a slug.”

  “Have you seen Mason? Has he collapsed somewhere?”

  “I saw him just a few moments ago, running. Should I go sit on him?”

  “Yes. It’s about time Trev earned his keep.” Geoff scowled, which he took to mean Trev was in trouble.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, he’s been canoodling with the brother of the groom instead of applying himself.”