“Got it.” Canoodling. “The pigs in a blanket? Amazing.”

  “Thank you, sir. Want to know a secret?”

  “You know I do.”

  “Vegan. All the way.”

  “You naughty man!”

  Geoff looked pleased as punch. “I had to have something.”

  “You did. I saw that the pimento cheese finger sandwiches were gluten free. You’re a genius.” He clapped Geoff on the back. “Off to find Mason.”

  “Be nice to him, honey! He’s about to crack down the center.”

  “I like him now, Geoff.” Noah winked, but he found it was the truth.

  Finding Mason was a bit like playing Marco Polo in an Olympic-size pool.

  He finally found the man restocking the doughnut wall, covered in sugar up to his elbows.

  “Hey.” He joined Mason in the hanging. “When you’re done here, can you tell Trev to take over a minute? I need a hand.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Mason nodded to him, almost managing a smile.

  Noah chose to take that little curl of lips as a good sign.

  They finished hanging doughnuts, and then Mason followed him to the groom’s tent, which was empty now. He took Mason’s hand so he could pull Mason over to the settee, where he tugged and pushed until Mason sat.

  “Noah?” Mason blinked up at him, obviously confused.

  “You need to sit for two minutes. Maybe have a snack.”

  “Oh. I’m not hungry, but thank you. Did you get some treats? It’s still a bit before supper is served.”

  “I did. You need something, honey.” He had the strongest urge to curl up with Mason and nap.

  Mason blinked at him, and he reached out, tracing the shape of the man’s nose, then his lips.

  “What are you doing?” Mason asked.

  “I have no idea. It seems good.”

  “You are something else.”

  Mason had no idea. He wanted to taste. And touch. And do things that were absolutely inappropriate.

  “I just needed to see you,” Noah said. “And you needed a minute to breathe.”

  “Are they enjoying themselves?”

  “God, yes.” He’d never seen so many hipsters and Dallas folks one generation away from rednecks have so damned much fun together.

  Even the uppity Prestons seemed to be okay with it. How those stodgy folks had two sons with huge personalities and bigger senses of humor, he didn’t know.

  “Oh, good.” Mason leaned over and rested their foreheads together. “I might sleep for a week.”

  “I know, honey. You’ve done so well. It’s been amazing.”

  Mason’s lips touched his. “This is a terrible idea, you know. You’re a client.”

  “Shh. Only for a few more hours.” And he didn’t hold with all this nonsense. He’d made himself, and he’d kiss Mason if he wanted to.

  “Oh. Huh.” Mason sounded as if he’d never thought of that.

  Noah grinned, because what else could he do? Mason needed a long soak in a tub, a nap, and a few dozen orgasms, not necessarily in that order.

  He would be happy to provide the latter. He really would.

  He took a kiss, moaning as it proved to be just as electric as the one they’d shared before. His head spun a little, and he wanted more. So much more.

  Noah moaned, a deep, raw sound that poured from him and into Mason.

  Mason started to crawl into Noah’s lap, but a clearing of throat had them springing apart. Damn it.

  “Guys. Seriously. The bride is hunting you, Mr. Noah, and Trev has disappeared, Mason. I need you, now.” Stoney actually looked sorry to have interrupted.

  “Crap.” Mason sprang into action. “I will beat him to death.”

  “I might help,” Stoney muttered.

  “Thanks, Stoney.” Noah rose as well, heading out to see what Sammy wanted.

  This wasn’t over, though.

  Not by a long shot.

  “Ark! You have to play before supper!” She tossed him a beanbag.

  “Okay, okay.” He hadn’t taken a turn because he was wicked competitive and so was Sammy. They would get all serious.

  “Come on, old man. Show me you’re still a stud!”

  “Old man!” He hooted with laughter before stepping up to the line so he could toss the beanbag. Hole in one. Who still had it?

  “Why am I not surprised?” She walked up close and whispered, “Cornholer.”

  “That’s me.” He winked. “You interrupted my attempt.”

  She blinked at him innocently, but her false eyelashes killed the look.

  “Yeah. I thought you wanted me to go for it.”

  “After the reception, okay?”

  Noah nodded easily. “Deal.”

  “Thank you, Ark. Can you believe I’m married? Me? For reals?”

  “No.” For a moment, he wanted to snatch her up and run. She’d been his responsibility for so long, his little sister. “Now you’re Doug’s problem, huh?”

  “Like I don’t need you. You’re my Ark, rain or shine.”

  “I am.” He kissed the top of her head. “Now, who’s up for a doughnut?”

  “Hrm. Dinner’s going to be pretty damn yummy. Want to share one with me?”

  “I do.” He had no idea if he did or not, but that would get them away from cornholing for sure.

  She leaned into his arm. “Daddy bought me a house—that custom that backs onto your property. We’re going to be neighbors.”

  “Yay?” Oh, Lord. There would be four-wheeling and bonfires and constant cookouts. Maybe he needed to get a loft in the city.

  “No?” She blinked up at him. “I’ll tell him we changed our minds. I thought you’d be excited.”

  “I am.” He was just stupid tired. “Shit, I get to have you, and you know who else.” Noah winked. “I’m tickled, baby girl.”

  “Yeah? Because we can’t wait to have you over. Besides, I can keep an eye on you and the ’rents.”

  “And keep an eye on my place when I’m traveling. Is that bacon and maple?”

  “Mmm. My favorite.” She pulled it off the board and tore it in half.

  The crowd about them hooted and hollered, the sound pure Texan, through and through.

  Sammy flexed, spinning around in her fancy dress like a monkey.

  Noah laughed when Doug came to dance her away, catching her midspin. They looked so good together. So happy. He just loved her so much, and he was so damned proud.

  “They’re silly kids, huh?” Daddy grabbed a doughnut, his chocolate cherry.

  “They are. Was I ever that young?” He didn’t think so. Life had been very different when he was a teenager and young adult.

  “No, son. You were born thirty.”

  “I thought so.” He nudged his daddy with his elbow. “You still having a good time?”

  “Well, I’d rather be fishing.” Daddy winked at him.

  “You have to dance with Sammy, and then you’re excused from the drama and can go fishing tomorrow.”

  “I intend to. Someone is taking your momma shopping in Aspen. She’s tickled as a pig in shit.”

  “Good deal. Did Sammy figure something for the dog?”

  “Yeah. Your cousin Martha is taking him back with her and her son.”

  “Good deal. I sure would hate to make the old feller fly. He’d gas himself to death.” Noah chuckled. “Maybe I ought to get a dog.”

  “You’re good enough with animals.” Daddy winked, bumped their shoulders together. “You work with all them financial folks, after all.”

  “All so you can go fishing.” He jerked his chin toward the dance floor. “I think it might be time for food.” The waiters were all filing in and standing about, looking ready.

  “Ah. We have to sit and eat, then. We have place cards and everything. You said there was going to be decent barbecue?”

  “You’re gonna think they brought up a Texas pit master.” He would prep Daddy to like it, and he would.

  “It smells okay. I do like a plate of meat.” Daddy looked around. “Where is your momma? She’ll have to come eat with us.”

  “I’ll go find her.” Noah spent the next ten minutes running to track people down, until he heard Stoney ringing the big triangle grub bell.

  He hoped Mason had found himself a bite to eat.

  Trev was there, changed out of the ridiculous ruffled tux and into a black shirt and tie. He directed traffic like a pro, so at some point he must have been a waiter himself.

  Bryan was there too, fluttering around Trev, teasing and distracting.

  Oh, this was about Sammy and Doug. Not the best man and the… Trev.

  Noah was about to go have a word, when Mason swept through, taking Trev off with him. The leaving caused just the barest ripple, but he had a feeling Trev was getting reamed.

  They sat, and he made himself focus. Sammy. Food. Dancing. Cake. This was her day. It would be gone soon enough. He needed to pay attention to this.

  Not the wedding planner.

  Not the pretty, stacked little wedding planner.

  Chapter 8

  M ason watched the bride and groom drive off, the look on Doug’s face almost as good as all the family’s.

  He headed for the kitchen and ended up sitting on the steps of the porch in the dark, wishing he had a cigarette or a joint or a french fry. Any one would do.

  He’d done it. He’d really pulled it off. He was under budget, on time, and he felt like the bride and groom believed it had been perfect.

  It hadn’t been, of course. He’d had to run to Aspen twice, he owed a metric fuckton of favors, and he was fairly sure he was going to die, but that was his to know.

  The door opened behind him, and someone tried to run him down, both of them oofing hard. “Shit. Mason? Is that you?” Geoff reached to help him stand, since he’d toppled like a bowling pin.

  “Sorry. Sorry.” Maybe he’d just stay here. The ground wasn’t that hard.

  “Come in, Mason. I’ve got Ford and the dogs, but that’s it. It’s warm and quiet.”

  “Uh-huh.” He forced himself to move, to get up to hands and knees. He could do this. He knew how.

  Geoff helped lift him. “Oh, Noah, hey. Help Mason inside? I think he’s whipped.”

  Noah swept up the stairs, lending him a strong arm, and Geoff went off to do whatever it was he was leaving the house to do.

  “I’m sorry. I’m okay.” He wasn’t okay. Not even a little.

  “No, you’re exhausted.”

  Ford sprang up when they walked in, moving to pull out a chair for him. Noah lowered him to it gently.

  “What would you like to drink, Mason?” Ford asked.

  “Can I have a Coke, please?” Bubbles, sugar, and caffeine—the magic triangle.

  “Quartz?”

  “Yessir.” Quartz hopped up, moving to grab a Coke from the fridge. Frank, who was under the table, rolled over to lie on Mason’s feet, then burped.

  He began to chuckle, and then the laughter got louder, almost tearing out of his belly.

  Ford patted his arm, grinning like a loon, while Noah sat down next to him, nudging him with the nearest elbow. “That’s his whole opinion.”

  “Indeed. She seemed happy. I was afraid your mom was going to pass out when she saw the getaway car.”

  “Pass out? Shit, I thought she was fixin’ to stroke out.” Stoney wandered through with a bus tub of dessert plates.

  “Let me help—”

  “No!” Ford and Noah said it in concert, both of them holding him down with a hand on his arm.

  “This is Stoney’s last load,” Ford said rather sternly. “We have a pair of dishwashers to do that.”

  “I was heading in, so I grabbed it. I’m fixin’ to have a beer to celebrate. Who wants to join me?”

  “Mr. Mason wanted a Coke, Daddy.”

  “I think he probably needs that more than a beer, kiddo. Why don’t you have a little can of Sprite with him so he doesn’t feel alone?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  There was something about Quartz, this way of seeing things, that Mason appreciated.

  “Thank you, Quartz, and thank you for keeping such good track of Frank. Sammy was so happy he was here.”

  Quartz nodded to him, not so much as cracking a smile. “You have to take care of those that depend on you. Stewardship is what it’s called.”

  “Yes, sir. That’s absolutely right,” Mason said.

  “He makes a good foot warmer,” Noah murmured.

  “Frank?” Mason glanced down at the freckled belly turned up to him. “He does.”

  “Even if his name should be Frankenfarter,” Ford said.

  Quartz blinked and then started giggling, the sound surprisingly young and infectious, so Mason started laughing along.

  When Geoff came in with a giant hotel pan full of leftovers, he found them all hooting, Janie the border collie looking from one to the other of them and whining.

  “What did I miss?” Geoff asked, setting them all off again.

  “Fart joke,” Stoney said. “Beer?”

  “Heck yes.” Geoff slid the pan onto the counter. “This is for our fridge if you guys want anything. I was thinking of tossing some fries in the air fryer and making grilled cheese.”

  “Yes, please. That sounds heavenly.” The words were out before he even knew he was speaking.

  “I thought so.” Geoff perked right up, which made them all exchange smiles. The man was never too tired to feed someone. Never.

  Mason sipped his Coke and watched Geoff cook, letting the conversation ebb and flow around him. Noah’s deep Texas drawl was a strange kind of comfort. He could listen to that all the time.

  He let himself have a little fantasy. What if he’d met Noah on the street in Aspen? Just a random meeting of two men. Would Noah have gone to coffee with him? Would Noah have come up to his condo and admired the view?

  Did it matter?

  He was fascinated by the casual billionaire, by this man who drove him to Grand Junction instead of snapping his fingers and having an assistant do it.

  Mason thought he might have dozed off while he waited. The warm press of a hand around his woke him, and he glanced over to find Noah holding his hand.

  “You’re okay, honey.”

  “Oh good.” He wanted to be okay.

  “Voila.” Geoff presented him with a Texas toast grilled cheese and a side of fries with little bowls of ketchup and mustard.

  “It smells like heaven. Thank you.” He stared at the food, watching the steam rise.

  “You want me to cut it in half?” Noah asked quietly.

  Mason got the impression Noah knew what it felt like to be too tired to face a whole sandwich.

  Don’t nod. Don’t nod. Had he just nodded? Out loud?

  “Here.” Noah cut his sandwich into fingers, four of them, and that he could cope with.

  It really did taste like heaven too. Rich and cheesy and buttery. He approved.

  Every bite perked him up a little bit, and by the time he was finished, he could think again.

  “So we did hire a cleaning crew, right?”

  “We did,” Ford agreed. “They have their instructions, and Trev offered to stay late and make sure the food was all put away safely, at least.”

  “What are you going to do with all the leftovers?” Noah nibbled a piece of wedding cake, because Geoff had brought an entire layer in.

  “Feed everyone tomorrow. Feed the drovers. I’ll send a good chunk to Angie’s house too. Freeze brisket.” Geoff grinned at Noah, winked. “I can make you a to-go box for Monday.”

  “Any of the canned stuff or frozen stuff we don’t eat can go to the Feed My Sheep shelter in Glenwood.” Stoney shrugged when Geoff stared. “I know it’s near and dear, buddy.”

  “My hero.” Geoff kissed Stoney’s cheek playfully, then did it again when Ford growled.

  “Geoff, Daddy is taken.” Quartz yawned. “May I be excused? I want to take Frank out one more time before we go to bed.”

  “I love that,” Noah whispered, and Mason glanced up.

  “What’s that?”

  “That no one cares, you know? That they’re just a family.”

  Mason nodded, although he was sure he didn’t understand. This was a special place, a safe spot no matter what.

  “It’s magical here” was all he said.

  Frank rolled to his feet, rising at some unseen sign from Quartz.

  “It is.” Noah took his hand again and held on.

  He sat there, his entire focus on that spot where his palm touched Noah’s. Noah’s hand was dry, smooth, warm.

  Mason thought he hadn’t blushed this much in his life. Not since high school. When Geoff smiled at him, looking a little misty, he wanted to say it was nothing, that Noah was just a client.

  It wasn’t true, but he wanted to say it.

  “Okay, y’all. I don’t know about you, but I’m fixin’ to fall over. We’ll do whatever’s left in the morning, huh?” Stoney smiled at Noah, rolling his eyes. “Not you, of course, Mr. Noah. You’re our guest.”

  “I can throw in to help if I need to.” Noah rose but never let go of Mason. “Can I walk you to your room? I just need a few moments.”

  “Of course. Yes. Good night, guys. Good night.” He followed, feeling a little dazed and confused.

  They got to the guest room where he’d set up his little command center. Noah led him inside, and he moved right to the bed to sit. “Sorry. I’m feeling better since the food, but I’m pooped.”

  “I understand.” Noah grabbed a chair and sat across from him.

  “Hi.”

  Noah smiled. “Hi. Thank you. For Sammy’s wedding.”

  “Was she happy?” Because really, that was why he did it. One day of magic.

  “Over the moon. Even the mother of the groom had fun.” Noah paused, hands linked loosely in front of him. “The wedding is over, though. I’m not a client anymore.”

  “No. No, you’re not.” He swallowed, eyes locked with Noah’s.

  “I know we’re both a little loopy, but I really want to kiss you again, Mason.” Noah didn’t sound a bit businesslike. Not a bit.

  “I haven’t had a drop of booze, Mr. Wright. Not one drop.” He leaned in and brought their lips together, breathing Noah in, filling his lungs with Noah’s air.