Chapter Seven
brYCE
The morning air bit at his skin the moment he stepped outside. Sunrise hadn’t yet lit the horizon, but the sky had already turned a pale, promising gray that meant the day would be clear.
He should’ve been focused on the upcoming councilors’ visit, on how to try and steer through what was coming with least harm done.
Matt, he knew, would do everything in his not-inconsiderable power to safeguard Jesse—including telling the Council where to go, if that was what it took—but there were a lot of different angles to come at Jesse from, and Matt couldn’t cover all of them by himself.
He’d need his pack. He’d need Bryce. And Bryce had every intention of being there for him.
He wouldn’t be much of a beta if he couldn’t protect his own.
But that visit was still a few days away, so Bryce didn’t beat himself up too much that his thoughts were completely elsewhere this morning. They were firmly on the driver of the SUV currently heading up their driveway.
Tom had wanted to come back at first light. “The councilors won’t be arriving until later in the day, but if I were looking to get into your territory unnoticed, I’d move before dawn. Light enough to navigate but not light enough to draw attention.”
He wasn’t wrong. And even if he had been, Bryce wouldn’t have wanted to put him off coming back.
His dreams had been disturbed last night, a mixture of sex and some other kind of restlessness.
He wasn’t sure exactly what it had been, but he did know all of it was centered on Tom Barrington, and he was impatient to see him again.
Tom had sharp instincts and a quiet presence and competence that reminded Bryce—painfully—of Matt.
But under all that control, there was warmth and humor.
Kindness, too. Things that were dangerous in a man tasked with peeling away layers to get to secrets.
Bryce liked him more than was smart in the circumstances, and his wolf had picked up on that interest immediately.
He leaned against the porch rail, mug of coffee warming his hands, and let his eyes track the SUV that had just pulled in beside the house.
Tom was in jeans and boots this time, not slacks and polished shoes, with a charcoal jacket zipped up tight against the cold, and dark hair mussed slightly. Like he’d just gotten out of bed maybe. Nope, not going there.
He looked relaxed, but his eyes swept the yard with the quick precision of someone who didn’t stop assessing his surroundings for a second. He nodded at Bryce, a smile lightening the seriousness of his face, just as Matt stepped out the front door.
Matt walked toward Tom, not even glancing Bryce’s way. Evidently, he wasn’t needed for this conversation.
Bryce couldn’t hear their words as they spoke in low tones, but the way Matt stood said everything. Broad stance, his arms folded, guarded. A little defensive for Matt, but perhaps not surprising right now.
Bryce sipped his coffee and watched, keeping his face unreadable.
After a moment, Matt stepped back and headed to his truck. Tom gave a polite nod and turned toward the porch.
“Morning,” Bryce said.
“Morning.” Tom’s smile was small but real. “Hope I’m not too early.”
“Right on time,” Bryce said. He tilted his head toward the barn. “Got a couple of horses saddled, unless you’d prefer the ATV?”
“I’d love to ride,” Tom said warmly. “I haven’t ridden since college.”
“In that case, I disclaim any responsibility for your aching thighs tomorrow.”
He hadn’t meant it to be suggestive, but just the mention of Tom’s thighs short-circuited his brain for an instant. Tom’s too, from the way his eyes flared.
Bryce was certain he was going to shoot some sort of innuendo back at him, but it appeared professionalism won out. “Noted,” was all he said.
Bryce put his mug to one side and took Tom around back, toward the barn.
“I gave you Dave’s horse,” he said. “He could do with the exercise while Dave’s away.” He was also as placid and kind as his owner, and Bryce had thought him the safest option when he didn’t know Tom’s ability in the saddle.
“You said Dave and Christian have taken off on a trip,” Tom said. He didn’t say anything more, but the question was practically asking itself—what the hell kind of time was this for pack members to go missing?
Bryce shrugged, keeping himself relaxed as leaves crunched under their boots. “Christian’s not good with strangers, and they’d been talking for years about taking a vacation, so it seemed a good idea all around.”
“Fair enough.” Tom shoved his hands in his pockets against the early morning chill. “Where’d they decide to go?”
Tom was evidently suspicious, but he could hardly dispatch an investigative team on vague conjecture. Especially if he didn’t know exactly where they’d gone. And in another few days, the entire Council would know about Jesse’s past anyway, so Bryce saw no problem in telling him.
“New Mexico somewhere,” he said.
The barn loomed into view, a dark shape in the weak light, and a horse nickered as they approached. Bryce didn’t miss the way Tom’s eyes scanned the barn doors, the paddock beyond, even the roofline. Always assessing. Always on.
He also saw the moment Tom’s shoulders eased, as he noted all points were clear of threat. Like being here let him breathe.
He pushed open the door and the familiar scent of hay and warm animals hit him.
“Yours is the chestnut,” he said, nodding toward a compact gelding already saddled and tied up. “He’s a sweetheart, so long as you don’t encounter any drains.”
“Am I likely to?” Tom asked with a raised eyebrow as he held his hand out to the gelding, letting him scent this new person.
“That’d be a no, but it seemed best to warn you since that’s how he ended up here.
He came from a place that taught first-timers.
Great temperament, but he couldn’t deal with storm drains.
Dumped three kids in a row when he saw the things lurking terrifyingly by the curb, and they decided he’d be better off out here. ”
Tom was now stroking the gelding’s neck, while he pushed his nose inquiringly against Tom’s chest. “No scary drains here to ruin your day,” he murmured softly, and Bryce grinned as he turned away.
He probably hadn’t been supposed to hear that, but it reinforced everything he’d thought about Tom’s basic kindness.
Didn’t stop him being a threat, though, and Bryce needed to remember that.
TOM
The gelding was warm and curious, and he didn’t seem to mind that half Tom’s attention was on Bryce even as he stroked his neck. Half Tom’s attention had been on Bryce ever since he’d pulled up outside the house.
It had been difficult not to smile just at the sight of him, out on the front porch, holding a coffee and leaning a hip against the railing.
The soft gray light hadn’t yet found color, but it had caught the edge of him—shadowing his jaw, glinting faintly off the curve of his belt buckle.
Jeans low on his hips, boots planted, he’d looked like something out of a black-and-white photograph, all stillness and intent.
But now that image, one that Tom knew he’d be thinking about for a while to come, was replaced by the living, breathing man beside him.
They led the horses outside, where Bryce checked the cinches and they mounted.
The instant he settled in the saddle, it came flooding back to Tom.
God, he’d missed this. He hadn’t had time to think of riding when he first got to DC, even if he’d been able to afford Washington prices in those days.
And then he… well, he kind of forgot about it in his drive to be the best aide there’d ever been.
To define himself by what he was, not what he hadn’t been allowed to be.
He also wasn’t sure Zack would have appreciated his coming back to their apartment smelling of horse.
For a wolf, he’d been surprisingly fastidious.
“Southern edge first?” Bryce checked.
“Makes sense. That’s where I’d breach,” Tom said, patting his jacket pocket to check he had his phone, containing the list of weak spots he’d made last night when sitting in his hotel room and trying to forget just how infectious Bryce’s smile was.
The quiet between them as they rode toward the southern perimeter was companionable, something that Tom rarely experienced. Most silences he encountered were either strategic or strained. But this felt comfortable, as if it didn’t matter whether or not it was broken.
Once they reached the place Tom had wanted to examine more closely, he drew the gelding to a halt and looked hard at the ridgeline, the patchy tree line cover, and the awkward visibility. It was even worse from up here than it had been from wolf eye-level yesterday.
“You said you concentrate on this area with your patrols,” he said, as he took some photos.
Nothing substituted for exploring the place himself, for getting the feel of it, but the photos would be a handy memory jog for later as he worked through what would be needed to ensure the councilors’ safety.
It might not be his job anymore, strictly speaking, but he still felt responsible.
“For obvious reasons,” Bryce said. “Jesse’s too big a target to leave this area wide open.”
Something in his voice warned Tom that he wasn’t simply stating the blindingly obvious. He was leading up to something.
Tom kept his voice light. “Matt already warned me off talking to Jesse, if that’s where this is going.”
Bryce didn’t look over. “It’s not a warning,” he said. “Just a reminder. He’s got enough on his plate without having to field curiosity even before the councilors arrive.”
“I understand,” Tom said quietly. And he did.
He was frustrated that it seemed he wouldn’t have much of a chance to evaluate Jesse, both for his own interest and for passing on to Steadman, but he was glad to see how solid and unswerving Jesse’s protection was.
He’d need it, once the world knew about him, when everyone would want a piece of him.