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“Don’t what?”

“I have nothing here if something happens,” he whispered.

“Ryder took care of all that.”

“What?”

“Oh, erm . . . sorry, a client just called me.”

Max hung up, leaving Mason staring at his phone. His stomach churned as he tried to imagine what his well-intentioned yet idiotic friend might have done. Mason walked back into his bedroom. There was no sign of Zeb, so he checked the bedside drawers and sighed. There were two giant bottles of lube, three twelve packs of condoms. They were only here for two nights. Was that how often Ryder was fucking Felix? The poor guy might need an intervention if that were the case.

Mason scooped them all up and went to the other bedside drawers, where he found three dildos, five different-sized plugs, and two sets of handcuffs. What the fuck? Imagine if Zeb had found this when he’d been sleeping in here. He’d assume Mason had put all this here and planned to use it on him. How had Ryder even gotten all this in here? Alison!

Mason was mortified. He knew Alison was a very open and understanding woman, but this was going too far. Before Zeb saw any of it, Mason scooped it all up and put it in a box at the back of his wardrobe. He took a picture of the contents before putting the lid on. Then he fired off a text to Ryder with the picture.

Mason: WTF!

His response was a stream of laughing, eggplant, peach, and raindrop emojis. You wouldn’t think the man was approaching forty with how he acted. Before he got into a text war with Ryder, he put his phone away and went back into the living space. Zeb was in the kitchen, having put everything away.

“You didn’t have to do that,” said Mason.

“I wanted to make myself useful,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

Mason wasn’t sure what to say. Where was the confident man who’d stood up to him ten minutes ago? He wanted to ask what was wrong, but the look on Zeb’s face told Mason not to push it.

“Thank you. Why don’t you find something to watch, and I’ll make a start on dinner. We’ll stay in where it’s warm today, and we can explore the town tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he said with a shy smile. “I’ll put my stuff away and take a shower, if that’s okay?”

“This is an extension of home, Zeb, so do whatever you want to make yourself feel comfortable.”

Zeb looked down, not being able to keep eye contact. He’d known Zeb for two years, and knew all his tells. This bashful side of him was endearing, but it was definitely second place to the feisty Zeb he’d experienced earlier. Mason wondered what he could do to bring that side of him out again. It differed from the confidence he showed at work. That came from his knowing he was good at his job. For him to stand up for something personal was different, and Mason liked that side of him. Before he could think about it any more and risk getting hard again, he needed to focus on dinner.

“Get yourself cleaned up. Dinner will be in a couple of hours.”

“A couple of hours? You don’t need to go to any fuss.”

“Do you not know me, Zeb? Besides, nothing’s a fuss if it’s for you.”

Mason knew he was pushing it, but the way Zeb’s eyes widened and he visibly swallowed was enough for him to know he still felt something. Could he push it a bit more?

“Get that cute ass of yours in the shower. Then you can relax.”

“What? Oh . . . I . . . okay . . . I’ll just . . . I’ll go now,” he blustered, before dashing off to the bathroom.

Mason was now certain Zeb was still interested, and his bumbling was adorable. The only barrier Mason saw was the timing. But if Zeb gave him any sign that he was ready to take things further, he wouldn’t hold back this time.

First, he needed to cook. Mason had everything he needed to make Zeb’s favorite meal, and then they could relax with a film. If everything went well tonight, Mason would ask him if they could go on a date tomorrow. He was done waiting.

CHAPTER 13

ZEB

The entire cabin smelled heavenly. Zeb’s mouth watered, and his stomach grumbled. Mason had made him eat a big breakfast before they left and had packed sandwiches for the drive. Mason was a feeder; it was his love language, as Ryder had put it. Given how much he’d already eaten today, Zeb was surprised he felt so hungry, but there was no logic with Mason’s cooking, or the man.

He had definitely been flirting earlier, but what did that mean? Was it just banter between friends? Or had Mason changed his mind about the rules he’d imposed. Should he make a move? He could hear Hunter in his ear telling him to pounce, but if it turned into a disaster and he needed to run off into the snow, he at least wanted some more food in him first. Besides, he recognized that smell, and it almost made him tear up.

“Have you made Philly cheesesteak?”