Chapter 13 #2
But then, he thought about it some more as he leaned against the rails of the corral and looked out at the view.
The essence of working on the Hill was compromise.
The fact that this compromise was personal made him no different from every other person in the place.
The only difference was this was the first time he’d let his standards waver.
As he looked at Bryce, who was shading his eyes, slight wrinkles showing at the corners as he gazed against the sun, looking like he belonged on this land, he thought that putting Jesse first didn’t feel like a compromise. It felt like the right thing to do.
brYCE
As they rounded the back of the barn, the sharp tang of freshly sawn pine reached them, along with the thud of wood on wood. Bryce squinted against the sun and spotted Colby loading a length of lumber into the trailer hitched to the ATV. Sweat darkened the back of his t-shirt.
Shit. It didn’t matter how often Bryce told him, Colby still thought he had to earn his place in the pack.
“Hey,” he called, “you trying to earn overtime or something?”
Colby whipped around, startled, before relaxing when he saw them. “Didn’t seem right to leave it.”
Bryce wandered over, keeping his voice quiet so that only Colby would catch his words. “You know you don’t have to prove anything to anyone, right?”
Colby’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he bent and picked up another beam.
Bryce let it go. Pushing wouldn’t help, not when trying harder was how Colby kept himself upright.
He didn’t seem to understand that by saving Tristan, he’d secured his place here.
So far as Bryce was concerned, Colby could spend the rest of his days sitting on the porch, sipping margaritas.
Hell, Bryce would make him the margaritas. But Colby was still figuring that out.
Bryce turned back to Tom, offering a half-smile. “We had a delivery problem. Truck couldn’t get up to the outbuilding, so the lumber’s been sitting here ever since.”
Tom looked at Colby, then back at Bryce. “You want a hand?”
“Wouldn’t say no,” Bryce said. The distractions around the councilors’ visit had resulted in lost time when they should have been working.
Tom stripped off his shirt, revealing a torso that shorted out Bryce’s brain into a haze of heat and want. Lean, defined muscle under sun-warmed skin—Tom looked like someone who’d never once missed a gym session or a late-night run. Only Colby’s presence stopped him from reaching out and touching.
“You’re pretty handy for a bureaucrat,” he said, desperately trying to sound as if he wasn’t a puddle of lust on the ground.
“Don’t know about that, but I work out,” Tom said. “Keeps things moving.”
Bryce ran his eyes slowly over those tanned, bare arms again. “Sure does,” he agreed, a slow smile on his face.
And Tom—for an instant his eyes flared dark, and then his tongue flicked along that lower lip that had Bryce so fixated.
If Colby hadn’t been there, Tom would have found himself pushed up against the nearest surface and kissed within an inch of his life.
Or maybe Tom would be the one pressing Bryce back against the wall of the barn with his body, his tongue fucking Bryce’s mouth, because the way he was looking at Bryce…
But Colby was there, and also? Really not a good idea to finally give in when Jax and Matt might come around the corner any time.
Because he was going to give in. He wasn’t sure anymore why he’d even been fighting this to start with.
He could trust Tom, he knew that now. Maybe not with the fact they knew about Cale’s pack, but that would be easy enough to keep locked away.
He could trust him with everything else.
Bryce let himself look just one moment longer, then he met Tom’s eyes, a promise of later in his own, and turned away, walking over to the lumber and willing himself to calm down.
“How do you want this loaded, Colby?” Tom asked, a hint of gravel in his voice that wasn’t normally there.
And damn, it was hot that Tom had the emotional intelligence to defer to Colby. Most people would have looked to Bryce, the pack beta, for direction. Maybe it wasn’t quite the hottest thing about Tom, because there were so many to pick from, but it was up there.
Tom worked efficiently beside him and Colby, just as he had yesterday.
His movements were sure and strong, not trying to show off but not phoning it in either.
Bryce found himself watching more than he should, seeing Tom’s arms flex with each length of wood he lifted.
That lean strength, that focus. It did things to Bryce’s equilibrium—and his dick.
After half an hour, with the sun still blazing and the stack nearly halved, Bryce tipped his head back and said, “I’m calling it. We’ve done enough for now.”
Colby hesitated. “I can finish the rest.”
“You don’t need to,” Bryce said gently. “It’ll keep.”
Colby, stiff at first, finally relaxed and grinned at Bryce, the first really carefree look Bryce had seen on his face. “Thanks,” he said, peeling off his gloves.
He turned and headed back toward the house, and Bryce watched him go for a moment before looking back to Tom. “Thanks for helping,” he said. “You didn’t have to.”
Tom picked up his overshirt, brushing dust from the sleeve. “Between this and being caught between Jax and your alpha? I’d take hard labor any day.”
Bryce laughed. “You and me both. I guess we better find out if Matt’s disposed of the body, or if they’ve reached a truce. And I could do with a drink.”
They set off back to the house, and with every step, Bryce became more aware of Tom beside him, of the heat building under his skin.
God, he wanted to get his hands on Tom, to taste him, to open him up with fingers and tongue and slide inside.
To see him stripped bare and wrung out—sweaty, wrecked and gasping his name.
He breathed out slowly, trying to will some of the heat out of his body. Not yet. First, they had to get through Jax’s visit.
But later—
God, later couldn’t come soon enough.
TOM
They’d worked for another couple of hours after stacking the lumber, mostly in companionable silence.
Checked the sensor feeds, reviewed the alert zones on Karl’s map, and made sure the goats hadn’t tripped anything yet.
It was practical, easy work, though it didn’t make Tom any less aware of the way Bryce moved beside him.
By the time they were at the house for another drink, his pulse was still a little too fast for the fact he was sitting down, supposedly relaxing. And it seemed to kick up a notch every time he looked at Bryce.
The back door opened, pulling him from his haze of constant low-level arousal. Matt and Jax stepped in, and Tom sat up straight instinctively at the change of atmosphere they brought with them. Matt was calm and steady, while Jax was almost thrumming with tension.
Jax’s gaze flicked between Tom and Bryce, taking in the easy slant of their chairs, the half-empty mugs. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of his stare said it all—Tom had gotten too comfortable, too close.
“When you’re through with your questions,” Matt said to Jax, “I’ll introduce you to the guy who runs security for the pack.”
Contempt and amusement twisted together on Jax’s face. “A pack this size has a head of security?”
“Except he’s not insecure enough to need the fancy title,” Matt drawled.
The danger in his tone had Jax straightening. However small his pack, Matt was still, unmistakably, an alpha.
“I appreciate that,” Jax said with an effort, though it sounded as if the words were ground out. “His name?”
“Karl Griffin.”
There was a pause. One of Jax’s fists curled. “Karl Griffin? The Karl Griffin?”
Tom blinked, confused. Nothing he’d read in Karl’s background check indicated he was famous for anything. He glanced at Bryce, who looked just as surprised, his brow furrowing as he watched Jax.
“Karl’s a member of my pack,” Urban said calmly.
The answer left Jax none the wiser and also with nowhere to go in terms of asking more questions about Karl.
For the next twenty minutes, Tom got a solid neck workout watching the two men volley back and forth.
Jax made demands. Matt shot them down, offering just enough compromise to avoid blowing things up.
Beside him, Bryce was silent but attentive, his jaw tight at certain moments.
Tom thought about the conversation they’d had earlier about Jesse and the councilors’ agendas, and wondered how much of that was playing through Bryce’s mind now.
Eventually, Matt pushed back his chair. “I’ll take you to meet Karl,” he said to Jax. “He’ll see you to your car when you’re done.”
It wasn’t the most diplomatic way of telling Jax he’d had enough of him, but Tom couldn’t blame Matt. A little of Jax went a long way.
Tom looked at Bryce as the back door banged behind them. “Karl Griffin?” he ventured. “Should I know that name?”
Bryce shrugged, still watching the door. “Beats me.” He sounded honest. And curious.
Tom reached for his mug again, then hesitated. “Guess I should…”
He trailed off, not sure what came next.
Professionally, he should go back to town, prep for tomorrow.
Personally, what he was thinking about—what he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about—had nothing to do with the Council and everything to do with how Bryce had looked earlier.
Sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat, his shirt riding up as he’d bent to pick up the lumber, muscles smooth and strong under skin that Tom had ached to touch.
“You staying for dinner?” Bryce asked. The words were casual, almost lazy. But his fingers were tight around his mug, and there was nothing casual in the way he was looking at Tom.
Tom didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” he said. The air between them shifted, subtle but unmistakable. Like a door unlocking. “If that’s okay.”
A grin spread across Bryce’s face—satisfied, with more than a hint of invitation. “Course it is.”
Tom looked down at his coffee, trying not to let the smile crack too wide across his face.
Tomorrow, the councilors would arrive, and he’d need to be on.
But for now? For now, there were hours ahead of him with no commitments, and Bryce Reynolds was watching him like the evening might hold more than dinner.