Chapter 8
LILY
When Hank sets my beer in front of me, I nod my thanks. Mason leans against the bar, between me and everyone else, offering me a buffer. His hat is tipped low, but I know his eyes are on me.
And I’m not uncomfortable. Yes, my body is acting like it just discovered hormones, but I’m not scared at all. In fact, I feel like the tension I’ve been carrying for years is a little lighter. I’m so grateful I’m tempted to give him a big kiss.
That thought is enough to startle me into almost tipping over my stool.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice low and deep.
“Yeah.” Though I have doubts.
He lifts his hand, his glass hovering close to his mouth. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’m thinking about how embarrassing it’d be if I fell off my seat.”
A low rumble of amusement comes out of him. “Would’ve caught you.”
The words hit harder than they should. I glance up at him, expecting teasing, but Mason’s watching me with that same steady focus he always seems to have—calm, certain, like he means every word he says.
Something primal twists low in my stomach.
There have only ever been two people who had my back: Mandy and Wes Mercer, the FBI agent who’d been in charge of our kidnapping case thirteen years ago.
Wes is the reason I’m here in Iron Ridge—he gave me the tip that Cole Turner is suspected be the one who’s running the trafficking operation that stole Mandy and me.
But if I was in real trouble? Wes wouldn’t be able to do a thing, not without risking his position with the FBI.
There’s not a doubt in my mind that Mason would put bodies in the ground for someone he cared about. The terrifying part? Wondering if he’d do it for me. The thought fills me with a longing that squeezes my heart and makes my buried girlie parts tingle.
Gripping my beer bottle, I try to keep it light. “Are you always this intense?”
His mouth tips just slightly at one corner. “Only around things I’m paying attention to.”
I blink. Somehow the way he says it feels less like flirting and more like a warning.