Chapter 50
MASON
Iknow Lily’s home before I even pull into her driveway. The porch light is on.
Actually, every light in the house is on—kitchen, living room, bedroom window glowing soft through the curtains.
She hates the dark.
The thought settles heavy in my chest as I kill the engine and sit there for a second, staring at the little house tucked beneath the trees. Whenever I think about why that is, I want to grab my rifle and go on a rampage.
I grab the paper bag beside me and head for the porch.
Before I can knock, the door opens. Lily stands there barefoot in shorts and an oversized gray sweatshirt that hangs off one shoulder. Her hair’s loose around her face, messy like she’s been dragging her hands through it.
Christ. My entire body tightens.
Her hazel eyes flick over me once before landing on the bag in my hand. “What’s that?”
“Peace offering.”
One brow lifts. “For what?”
“For what I’m about to ask you.”
That makes her go still. Not scared—braced.
Slowly, she steps back from the door. “Pastries before interrogations? Is that standard operating procedures?”
“Learned it from Emma actually.”
A snort slips out of her despite herself, and some of the tension eases from her shoulders as she lets me inside.
I catch a hint of her lemon scent as I walk by her. I want to lean in and kiss her, but I don’t trust myself. We need to talk, and if I taste her—even in the most innocuous kiss—the only kind of talking we’ll do is dirty.
“You want something?” She closes the door and locks it, sliding the deadbolt home. “Coffee? Beer?”
“I want honesty.”
She freezes halfway to the living room, her eyes wide on mine. “Will you give me the same?”
“Always,” I promise.
Nodding she continues into the living room. She perches on a shabby couch, curling one leg underneath herself.
I take in the way her shorts ride up as I sit on the opposite end. I lean forward, my elbows on my thighs, my hands steepled. “We need rules.”
Her eyes narrow. “What kind of rules?”
“If we’re doing this, then we do it right. No lies that get either of us killed. No disappearing acts. No running off to Turner’s property alone.” I raise my brow.
She shakes her head. “That happened once, and we weren’t seeing each other then.”
Seeing each other. I hum deep in my throat, liking the sound of that.
She purses her lips, like she’s thinking. “Okay, I’ve gone there more than once. But it’s less than five times. I think.”
“Fuck, Lily.” I glare at her.
She shrugs. “I survived.”
“Barely.”
Silence stretches between us.
Softer, I admit, “You scared the hell out of me Monday night, Lily.”
The words land hard. I can see it happen in the way her gaze drops for half a second. “That’s the problem,” she murmurs.
“No.” I scoot over slowly, stopping an arm’s length away. “The problem is you think you’re alone in this.”
She raises her head, her gaze heartbreaking. “I have been alone in this.”
I take her hand, holding it loosely so she can extricate herself if she needs. “Not anymore.”
Her breathing changes slightly at that.
I force myself to stay still. No pushing. No cornering. Lily’s like that mare out at the barn—too much pressure and she’ll bolt.
Finally she blows out a breath and nods. “Okay. Rules.”
Relief moves through me sharp and immediate.
“Rule one,” she says, “you don’t touch me unless I say it’s okay.”
Easy. “Done.”
“Rule two, you don’t touch anyone else.”
I snort. “Pretty girl, I don’t go around touching anyone.”
Her brow furrows. “Ever?”
“Ever.” I train my eyes unwavering on hers. “Next.”
“Rule three, no demanding information I’m not ready to give.”
I pause at that. “Does it go both ways?”
“Damn it.” She makes a face at me. “It has to, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” I say, amused.
“Fine. Rule four.” She hesitates. “If I tell you to stop, you stop. No questions.”
“Pretty girl, if you tell me stop, I stop.” My voice goes rough. “But you won’t.”
Her eyes flick to mine and her breath catches.
“And my rules?” I ask.
Wariness returns immediately. “You have rules?”
“Yeah.” I lean back slightly, holding her hand on my leg. “You don’t lie to me, about anything. You don’t go after Turner alone. And if you think somebody’s coming for you, you call me first.”
She shakes her head. “Mason—”
“First,” I repeat. “Nonnegotiable.”
The room goes quiet except for the wind outside.
Then Lily surprises me by nodding. “Okay.”
Just like that—like she’s handing me something fragile and hoping I don’t break it.
I study her face for a long second. “You ready to tell me why you’re really in Iron Ridge?”