Page 8 of Where They Belong

Nick had told him the team of three were brothers and that they’d be bringing their own horses. Which had intrigued Mason. At least he didn’t have to worry about a bunch of greenhorns getting in the way, but three of them was overkill. Even one was too many. Soon enough, they’d see that they weren’t needed and could move on.

The engine of the rig cut as he stepped into the open yard—which was large enough for a semitruck pulling a twenty-eight-foot stock trailer to easily turn a full three-sixty. Nick was already out of his vehicle and dealing with two rambunctious balls of fur when he glanced up to wave at Mason.

The passenger door of the deep blue Dodge pickup opened, and out of the cab hopped two of the most ruggedly handsome men Mason had seen in a long time. Both wore jeans, T-shirts (one black and the other white), brown boots, and cream-colored cowboy hats. They were strong and fit-looking men but, at first glance, appeared a whole lot more like ranch hands than professional security. At least if he had to have twenty-four-hour bodyguards, they would be easy on the eyes. There was nothing quite like the sight of a well-built man in snug jeans, dusty boots, and cowboy hat that never ceased to send a warm rush through his body.

The third man took his time exiting the truck, and the first thing Mason registered was the tension emanating from him like heat waves at high noon in the height of summer. The man was around six feet tall, with the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow dusting his strong jaw. His dark brown cowboy hat was pulled low on his brow, and mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes. Hands shoved into his pockets, his mouth was pressed into a flat line, his jaw clenched tight and the muscle on one side flexed. Whoever he was, he clearly wasn’t any happier to be here than Mason was to have them.

As Mason approached, the shortest of the three men—by an inch and wearing the black T-shirt—stepped forward and waved. His smile was large and infectious and . . . familiar.

“Hi, Mason!” The cowboy’s tone was jovial, as though greeting a friend. “It’s been a long time.”

Mason frowned as he tried to place the man. Nick turned to them with a raised eyebrow as the dogs continued their dance around his legs.

“Y’all know each other?”

“Oh, yeah,” the cowboy replied. “We lived here when we were kids.”

Mason stopped dead in his tracks. They’dlivedhere? If they had, surely, he’d know who they—

Three brothers. Cowboys.

No.It can’t be.

He took a good long look at the three handsome men who all bore a similar resemblance.

His heart launched into his throat. Heat washed over his skin, and his back itched between his shoulder blades.

The Stonebraker brothers.

Now he could clearly see the young boys they’d been. Wes, the middle brother. Still lean, but he’d shot up in height and was now the tallest of them. Levi, the youngest brother, who’d always been such a clown, always so outgoing, had been the first one to greet him today. And then there was the oldest brother, Colton Stonebraker. The boy Mason once loved had grown into a man who now stood before him, looking like he would rather walk over hot coals barefoot than be anywhere near Mason again.

Mason narrowed his eyes as a kaleidoscope of emotions—shock, joy, regret, guilt, anger, longing—rocked through him. It wasn’t his fault his dad had sent him away to live with his aunt and uncle after catching him with Colt in the barn when they were kids. But he’d called and written letters home to Colt every week for the whole year he was gone. Colt never once replied. And when Mason had returned home, Colt and his family had moved away without a forwarding address.

Nick’s chuckle pulled Mason back into the present. The dogs finally settled down and were now investigating the newcomers.

“You’re shittin’ me,” Nick said.

Levi shook his head, oblivious to Mason’s shock and the tension roiling off Colt.

“No, man. True story. I loved living here. This is going to be great.” Levi’s eyes widened. He shot an apologetic look at Mason and raised his hands. “I mean, the reason we’re here isn’t great, but it’s cool to be back here.”

Awkward silence filled the courtyard. Mason stood frozen in place while his heart jackhammered against his rib cage. Colt glared a hole into the ground. Levi kept on smiling. Wes shook his head at Levi, and Nick’s gaze ping-ponged from Mason to the brothers and back with a bewildered expression on his face.

Finally, Mason shook out of his stupor, stood to his full height, and cleared his throat. He stepped forward and shook Levi’s and Wes’s hands.

“Good to see you guys again,” Mason said, surprised that he meant it. The younger Stonebrakers had been like brothers to him. But there was nothing brotherly about his relationship with the eldest of the trio.

“Good to see you too, Mason,” Wes said.

Wow, his voice was a deep rumble Mason hadn’t expected. With a nod, Mason turned to the man who he’d thought was the love of his life. The man he thought he’d one day marry and run the ranch with.

“Colt,” Mason said softly.

He shoved his hands into his pockets as vocabulary flew the coop. Questions rattled around in his brain at breakneck speed. So many things he wanted to say—had planned to say if he ever saw Colt again—had suddenly fled.

Colt took off his sunglasses to reveal blue eyes that gave no hint of emotion. None of the joy and wonder and love Mason remembered seeing in them was there, only a flat indifference that was worse than anger. At least anger would mean Mason had meant something to Colt.

Colt tipped his chin but didn’t say anything and then turned his head.

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