Carnal (Mail Order Mountain Men #3)

Chapter Two

Ryder

Mason stares at me from across the dining room table. Every year he gets older, I’m reminded I’m aging myself, and it ain’t pretty. I don’t know where time goes. One second I’m his age, chopping down logs in the back forty like an animal with energy to burn. Next thing I know, I’m home on the couch with a sore back and knees that need ice and painkillers to unlock.

“I’m moving home.” He swallows hard and taps his fork against his plate as he talks, barely looking up. “Texas isn’t for me.”

“Why?” My response is a surprise, even to myself. I’ve wanted Mason home since the day he left, but I can’t figure why he wants to be here all the sudden. Six months ago, Rugged Mountain was the most vile place on Earth. He hated the mountains, the weather, the small-town vibe, the same old people, and the lack of modern technology. He wouldn’t say a good thing about it if you paid him.

“I thought you’d be happy. This is good news.” He glances up from his plate, then down again, this time spinning his fork through the venison steak as though he’s not interested in eating.

“I’m over the moon, but a bit surprised. You’ve got me wonderin’ if there’s a reason is all.”

“Nothing other than realizing what I was missing up here. Austin is fine, but everyone does their own thing. I had a flat tire last week, and I had to call a tow. Up here, someone would’ve pulled over to help no matter what they had going on. When I took a step back, I missed the diner, and the bakery, and the snow. Christmas was weird this year, all brown and green.”

“What about the job you just started? You were hell bent on gettin’ that welding job at the steel company. It’s good pay.”

He narrows his brows and lets his fork drop to the plate. “I thought you’d stand up, hug me, and tell me you were happy I’d finally come to my senses. What the hell, dad?”

He’s right. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should be happy he’s coming home. I am. Of course I’m happy.

I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly before standing from the table to make my way around to him. “I’m… more than happy. Everybody around here’s been missin’ ya. You lookin’ to log or you still wanna weld? I know guys everywhere.”

“Weld. I figured I could talk to Julie about a job out in the mines. I heard they need help with the chutes and pipelines.”

I nod. “You know you’re welcome here as long as you need. Your bedroom ain’t changed much. Just a few boxes of tools I need to move out of there.”

He readjusts his cap. “Thanks. I’ll be here for the next week or so, but I bought a cabin up on Eagle Rock yesterday. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Shit, man!” I slap his back and yank him in for another hug. “When the hell did you do that? I could’ve helped ya. You… where’d you get the cash?”

“I called your buddy Clyde out at the Mail Order Ranch thing. He was still building a few places, offered me a good deal on one near the ridge he’d just finished.”

“On the ranch property?”

“Nah. Further up the way. It’s only a quarter acre, but it’s surrounded by trees. He gave me a good deal and said he was happy to have me back.” He lets out a deep sigh and looks me in the eye as he says, “I’m sorry I left like I did. I know it wasn’t easy.”

I’m not sure who the hell this kid is, but he ain’t talking like my son. “You needed to get out and see what was out there. That’s part of growin’ up.”

“Well,” he sighs loud and rolls his eyes before sitting back in front of his plate, “I hope Sasha feels the same.”

My chest tightens, my throat closes, and I swear the temperature in the room just went up ten degrees. “What?”

He laughs under his breath. “I had my fun. I dated random women,” he laughs harder, “and now it’s time to come do what makes sense.”

Turns out, the same old Mason is still in there.

“What makes sense? You and Sasha? You decided a while ago that didn’t make sense.”

“Yeah,” he grins smugly, “but I had to go sow my oats. You can’t see what else is out there unless you make breakfast with a few different women, ya know?”

Dear fucking God. I don’t know what to do with this emotion. Hell, I don’t even know what it is. I love my son, but he isn’t right for Sasha. She needs someone who can see outside themselves long enough to see her. Someone who’s empathetic and patient. Someone who’ll protect, love, hold, and give her the life she deserves.

“So… you’ve talked to her about getting back together?”

“No, Dad. Keep up. I wanted to do it in person, but I’m sure nothing much has changed with her. Every time we talk, she’s doing the same thing. That boring library job, and then home to the cats. I thought she wanted to be a writer. What ever happened with that?”

“She works hard over there. A lot goes into keeping the library stocked and organized, she rescued those cats, and she writes all the time. Good stuff, too. Why do you want to be with her if you think she’s boring?”

His brows wrinkle and the grin is back. “Man, when did you get so defensive over Sasha? This is all good news, Dad. I’m home, I got my own place, I’m getting back together with my old girl, and I’ll have a job by the end of the week.”

There are about four million things I want to say in a rather rageful way right now, but I bite my tongue and try to move on. As much as I want to be, I can’t be pissed off by this. I can’t be jealous. I can’t let whatever imaginary feelings I’ve accumulated for Sasha show. She’s not mine to protect, not mine to feel anything for. The mere fact that I feel anything at all is disgusting. She’s twenty-five years younger than me. She’s my son’s ex-girlfriend, maybe his new girlfriend. She’s off limits… period.

I roll my shoulders back and twist toward Mason, who’s got his phone face-up on the table as he scrolls through some social media thing with half-naked girls bouncing around.

Some days it’s hard to believe I raised him. When he was young, he was my shadow. We did everything together. If I was shoveling, the boy was shoveling with me. If I was reading the paper, the boy was sprawled out with the comics section. Time to head out to the barn to work with the horses, the boy was right there with the saddle pads. Somewhere around sixteen, old dad didn’t have the answers anymore. The internet did. Bouncing girls did. Austin did.

“What are you doin’ on that thing? You shouldn’t ogle women like that, especially if you’re thinkin’ about Sasha.”

He laughs. “Everyone does this, Dad. It’s your era’s Playboy, except it’s free.”

“I didn’t look at Playboy either. You gotta respect women all the time, not just when they’re lookin’. It’s called character.”

“I don’t mind doing this in front of Sasha. I’m not doing anything wrong. It’s just girls.” He sighs and flips his phone over on the table before taking a sip of his beer. “So… when are you gonna start dating? You’re pretty fixated on making sure I do things right with Sasha. Maybe a woman would be good for you.”

“A date?” My chest constricts again. Sasha’s the only woman I’ve thought about in years. The only one my heart allows me to see. I’ve tried looking elsewhere but I never get far. “Not sure it’s my thing.”

“It’s everyone’s thing. You need to get out there. Have you tried that Mail Order Mountain Man thing? I’m sure your buddy Clyde could hook you up. He’s building shit every day, right? He probably knows whoever runs it.”

“Ugh, yeah, I did it already.” I knead the back of my neck with my hand. “I realized real quick that I’m not ready for love, relationships, or any of that shit.”

“You’re fifty. You're kind of running out of time, aren’t you?”

“I’m fifty, not dead. Don’t worry about me.” The words come out with a sour taste, as though there’s not an ounce of truth in them. I want Sasha, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to move on from that.

Jesus, I gotta fucking stop.

Mason stands from the table and rolls his eyes before tucking his phone into his back pocket. “I’m gonna look around town for ya. There’s gotta be some women your age looking for the same thing.”

“I’m good. You’ve got enough goin’ on with your new house and the job hunt.” I lower my weight back into the solid dining room chair as Mason shakes his head and steps out onto the front porch for a smoke. I’m not sure when he picked that up either. All I know for sure is that I need to get a grip… fast.

I’m all Mason has. I can’t be having thoughts like this about his ex. I can’t be fantasizing about some young girl like a fucking pervert. I should never have let it get this far to begin with.

From this moment forward, no more thinking about Sasha. No more visions of her soft lips, her full hips, her long dark hair, or the way she bites her lower lip when she’s nervous. No more thinking about any of that. I’m officially moving on. It has to be this way.