Page 1 of Where They Belong

Colt flopped back on the soft bed of grass, refreshed after swimming and splashing in the cool river, and exhaled a happy sigh. Mason dropped down beside him, panting from exertion, and took his hand to lace their fingers together. Colt gave a squeeze, perfectly content, without a worry in the world. Life couldn’t get much better than this moment.

They’d found this little oasis of a spot on the Laramie River that snaked through Mason’s massive family ranch in northern Colorado when they’d been exploring for private places to hang out. It was a little bend in the river, a good mile or so from the main ranch houses, where a thick grove of lush quaking aspen, rocky mountain maple, and peachleaf willow trees created a secluded world, a place to be free with each other, where they didn’t have to worry about prying eyes or discovery.

Colt closed his eyes and let the world fold around him. Water burbled in the river as it snaked its way through the emerald-green valley fields. Birds chirped and twittered happily. Leaves whispered a lazy commentary in the gentle summer breeze. The occasional whinny of horses, lowing cattle, and barking dogs drifted in the distance.

He’d only been seven years old when his dad had come out the wrong end of a bar fight and been removed in a body bag. His mom had packed up their rickety old station wagon and driven from one end of Colorado to the other, with Colt and his two younger brothers, until they’d landed at Haverstall Mountain Ranch.

And then he’d met the owner’s son, Mason Hayes, and hadn’t stopped smiling since.

He didn’t remember much of his life before the ranch. Before Mason. Because since day one, he and Mason had been glued together in one way or another. And now, eight years later, Colt didn’t see that ever changing.

He turned his head to find Mason watching him. His hazel eyes were soft and dreamy, and beads of water glistened like tiny diamonds on the ends of his eyelashes. His hair, wheat-blond and glossy wet, clung to his forehead. Bright summer sun speared through the quaking leaves and painted moving dapples over the exposed creamy white skin of Mason’s bare chest.

His heart swelled in his chest at the way Mason looked at him. Like he was everything.

Colt smiled. “What?”

Mason grinned before leaning over and kissing him. His lips tasted of fresh water and sunshine and promise, and Colt knew they were going to be together forever. Mason was perfect.

“I love you,” Colt whispered, and then his heart kicked in his chest like a bucking bronco. Goose bumps broke out over his skin—and not because he was cold.Oh my god, please tell me I didn’t say that out loud. The shocked expression on Mason’s face answered that question. “I mean—”

Mason cut him off by plastering his mouth to Colt’s again. This time, the kiss was desperate and sloppy and awkward, but the best Colt had ever had all the same.

Mason pulled back and whispered, “I love you too.”

His smile was crooked and languid and inviting. Warmth filled Colt’s insides, as though Mason had just put the sun right there.

“One day, you and me are going to run this ranch together,” Mason promised.

Colt couldn’t imagine a better future.

“Come on.” Mason stood and tugged on Colt’s hand to help him up. “Last one to the barn is a rotten egg.”

Laughing and stumbling around like drunks, they quickly grabbed their clothes. Colt groaned as he tried to pull his jeans up over damp legs, and his wet boxers bunched up around his crotch.So not comfortable. He didn’t bother with his socks, jamming his bare feet into his boots just as Mason took off running, shirtless.

“Hey! No fair!” Colt shouted. Socks and shirt in his hand, he gave chase, trying to catch up with Mason’s long legs and nimble feet. Mason beat him to the small horse barn by a few feet.

Inside the darkened barn, Mason stopped, spun, and pressed his back against a stall door. Chest heaving from exertion, his face was alight with glee, and his eyebrow raised in a challenging slant.

A voice deep in the back of Colt’s mind cried out in warning that the barn wasn’t the safest place for this, but his hormones had taken control of his brain. He charged straight ahead, pinning Mason to the door, and took his mouth in a sweaty, frantic kiss. Mason groaned, rocked into Colt, and stoked a fire that had been building since Mason had becomemorethan his best friend.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Colt’s heart shot into his throat at the booming voice. Cold fear snaked over his damp and overheated skin. He jumped back from Mason like he’d been shocked with a cattle prod. Mason stood stock-still, staring at Colt. His eyes were wild and panicked, his complexion frighteningly white.

Mason’s dad stormed into the dirt laneway of the barn and stopped a few feet from them. Anger blazed in his dark gaze, his lips were pressed into a flat line, and his nostrils flared.

“I don’t know what that was I just saw, but I damned sure know I’d better never see it again,” Grant Hayes said, his voice low and threatening. He glared at Mason. Tension like a tangible thing sucked out the air around them, making it thick and suffocating. “Do I make myself crystal clear?”

Mason curled in on himself, eyes downcast. Quietly, he mumbled, “Yes, sir.”

“I didn’t hear that.”

“Yes, sir,” Mason said more clearly, but he still hadn’t lifted his gaze from the hay-littered dirt floor.

Grant turned his furious stare on Colt, his storm-gray eyes hard and flinty. A muscle in his salt-and-pepper-stubbled cheek flexed. Grant could be scary, and Colt had never wanted to get on his bad side, but the way he talked down to Mason, how Mason buckled under his command and his light dimmed, called up something fiercely protective from deep within Colt. Something he’d never known was there. Grant could yell and try to intimidate Colt all he wanted, but no one did that to Mason. Not even his dad.

Colt drew himself up to his full height—still a few inches shorter than Grant—and lifted his chin. He and Mason loved each other, so Grant was just going to have to learn to live with it.

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