Lynn Hagen [Bear County 04] Cowboy Rescue [Siren ManLove MM] (pdf)

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Bear County 4

Cowboy Rescue

Growing up as the son of Quinn McNeal, Milo wants nothing more
than to get from under the man's thumb. His father is as famous

as he is rich, but he is also a tyrant, micromanaging Milo's life,
even down to the fact of who Milo is going to marry. Desperate,
Milo flees, settling in a small town that he hopes Quinn will never

discover.

Bryson Duran was the last of the men in the Triple-B ranch to find

his mate. When a cute waiter starts working at the Ugly Broad
Saloon, Bryson is smitten. The fiery little redhead flips every

trigger Bryson possesses. Although Bryson is built like an ox, he
has trouble finding the courage to ask Milo out.

When Bryson discovers that Milo is on the run from his father, he
proposes a plan to stop Quinn from forcing Milo into a marriage he
doesn’t want. But the plan backfires and the men of the Triple-B

ranch must launch a rescue to get Milo back.

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Paranormal,
Shape-shifter, Western/Cowboys
Length: 27,304 words

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COWBOY RESCUE

Bear County 4





Lynn Hagen






THE LYNN HAGEN

MANLOVE COLLECTION

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection


COWBOY RESCUE
Copyright © 2014 by Lynn Hagen
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-880-5

First E-book Publication: June 2014

Cover design by Emma Nicole
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without
express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.


PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

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Letter to Readers


Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of Cowboy Rescue by Lynn Hagen
from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also,
thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy


This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or
group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing
rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this
book.

The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying
readers high-quality reading entertainment.

This is Lynn Hagen’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect
Ms. Hagen’s right to earn a living from her work.

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

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COWBOY RESCUE

Bear County 4

LYNN HAGEN

Copyright © 2014





Chapter One


“You are smoking hot.” Bryson shook his head and tried again.

“Do those jeans come in another size? Because I’d love to squeeze
into them.” He groaned at himself in the mirror, feeling as if he would
never be able to let the new waiter at the Ugly Broad know how he
felt. Every line he thought up sounded juvenile to him.

It shouldn’t be this hard to come up with a suave pickup line. But

every time he thought one up, it sounded even dumber than the one
before.

Bryson was never going to get a date with the guy.
He reexamined himself in the full-length, antique mirror given to

him by his mother. The swivel mirror had been in his family for
generations. The wood had a cherry finish, some places showing
wear. She’d given it to him as a gift when he’d moved out and Bryson
cherished the heirloom.

He turned sideways to make sure he looked good not only in the

front, but in the back as well. His jeans fit nicely and the blue polo
showed off his profusion of muscles. His belt was thick and made of
leather, the buckle shining, showing off the Triple-B logo.

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Lynn Hagen

Bryson picked up his brush off the dresser and ran it through his

short brown hair, hoping he looked as dapper as he felt. He’d been
fussing in the mirror for over an hour.

This was as good as it was going to get.
He knew he was a bit rugged looking and most men were

intimidated by his size. Bryson hoped that wasn’t the case with Milo
McNeal.

He loved saying and thinking that name. The two words had a

nice ring to them and rolled through his mind smoothly.

Setting his brush aside, Bryson grabbed his cologne and splashed

some over his neck. Next he grabbed his wallet and keys. He took one
last look in the mirror before heading downstairs. The steps creaked
under his weight and his heart hammered at the thought of seeing
Milo at the saloon.

Dresden and Noah let go of a low whistle at the same time as

Bryson entered the living room. He felt his neck, ears, and cheeks
heat under their scrutiny.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Noah asked as he grabbed one of the

triplets—Bryson still had trouble telling them apart, especially in their
bear form—and wrestled a shoe away from the cub’s mouth.

Bryson chewed his lower lip, wondering if he should tell them. To

hell with it. If things went as well as he hoped, the two would find out
soon enough. “Milo,” Bryson answered.

“The new waiter at the bar?” Dresden asked.
“You don’t have to make it sound like I don’t have a chance in

he–heck.” He quickly corrected his language around the babies.
Bryson reached up and swiped away a bead of sweat forming on his
temple. It wasn’t hot in the room. The house was temperature
controlled, which kept the muggy summer days from invading the
interior. The line of perspiration only signified how nervous he was.

Markey walked around Bryson in a tight circle before he beamed.

The blue-eyed boy had come to mean the world to Bryson. He spent
plenty of time with the toddler, hoping to educate himself on children

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Cowboy Rescue

9

just in case he was lucky enough to have any of his own. Not that he
was using Markey. The child was a joy to be around.

“Ucle Byson smells good.”
“Why, thank you.” Bryson ruffled the kid’s blond hair. “At least

someone has a vote of confidence for me.”

“I didn’t mean anything by my question,” Dresden said, resting

his hand on his neck and letting his gaze sweep over Bryson. “It’s just
that Milo is…unique.”

“Very,” Noah agreed as he nodded.
“I happen to like unique.” Bryson headed for the door. “Don’t

wait up for me.”

Markey grabbed his shoes and raced toward him. Bryson turned

toward the four-year-old. “You can’t go, buddy.”

“Oh, man.” Markey’s shoulders slumped as his bottom lip slid

out. “I wanna go.”

Bryson looked to the toddler’s father for help, but Dresden just

shrugged. Bryson felt guilty for turning Markey away and it seemed
Dresden wasn’t going to bail him out of this situation. “What can I
say, he worships his uncles.”

“Come on, Markey,” Noah said as he held his hand out toward the

cub. “You can help me feed your cousins.”

Markey’s eyes lit up as he abandoned his shoes and hurried to

help Noah. Bryson made a break for it before the kid came back. He
loved the tyke to death, but wasn’t willing to take him along while
Bryson tried to hit on the new waiter.

He hurried down the front steps and was making his way to his

truck when he spotted Jed pulling in. Bryson waved, but Jed whistled
for him before Bryson could make his getaway. If he didn’t know any
better, he would say fate was conspiring against him.

“Can you help with these bags?” Jed asked as he got out and

pocketed his keys, heading toward the ass end of his truck.

“No can do. If I go back in there, Markey will jump me.”

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Lynn Hagen

Jed frowned as Bryson climbed in behind the wheel of his own

truck, backed up until he could turn it around, and then took off down
the driveway. With five kids in the house, making a clean break
wasn’t always easy. Bryson usually had one or two clinging to him
like Velcro. Any other time he wouldn’t mind. Not today. Today was
for Bryson to find out if the waiter liked him as much as Bryson liked
Milo.

Bryson parked outside the tavern and sat there, staring at the

building as if willing Milo to come outside so he could talk to the guy
without anyone around. As big as Bryson was, there was no hiding
the fact that he was shy as hell when it came to intimate things like
flirting.

But he’d been dazzled by the short, slim man the first time he’d

laid eyes on Milo. Bryson couldn’t get the guy off of his mind. “Just
go in there and say hi,” he grumbled to himself.

Bryson clunked his forehead against the steering wheel, groaning.

He felt like the town freak seeking out the prince. His heart wouldn’t
stop racing and his palms were as wet as an overrun creek. He feared
he had sweated big stains over his armpits and would embarrass
himself if he raised his arms.

Every fear of screwing this up came to mind. Did his breath

smell? Did he look dapper enough? Did he cut himself shaving and
have red dots patterned all over his face?

Bryson groaned once again.
Not that his confidence was low or anything, but Milo made him

feel things that Bryson had never felt before—like wings of butterflies
flapping in his gut—and he wanted to smile just thinking about the
guy. The man was pure perfection and Bryson was afraid of saying
something to make himself look like an idiot.

Sucking in a lungful of confidence, Bryson stepped out of his

truck. He hoisted his waistband up, nodded, and then moved toward
the door.

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Cowboy Rescue

11

The noise level was pretty low when he stepped inside. It was still

early, though, and not too many people were in the place. He spotted
Jack—Noah’s father—in a back booth with a couple of other older
gentleman.

The old-timer looked like he was enjoying himself. His grin was

wide and his eyes sparkled with merriment as he spoke to the men
seated around him.

The television was on, the sound so low that Bryson couldn’t hear

it. His boots crunched over peanut shells as he stepped further into the
tavern.

He did a quick scan of the place and his heart sank when he didn’t

spot Milo anywhere. A part of him was relieved.

A small part.
On one hand, Bryson wanted to talk to Milo, but on the other

hand, he couldn’t get his stomach to settle down long enough to
gather a clear thought. His nerves were stretched tight at the prospect
of seeing the waiter.

“Wuz up?” Clayton said as he walked down the length of the bar.

Clayton Calabria and Harland Macy were co-owners of this bar. It
meant Bryson could drink for free—not that he took advantage of that
fact.

“Nothing.” Bryson scooted onto a stool and relaxed his elbows on

the counter. “How are things going tonight?”

“Slow, slow,” Clayton answered. “But it’s only Wednesday.”
Though Bryson loved his friend dearly, he wasn’t interested in

shooting the breeze. He wanted to talk to Milo but wasn’t going to ask
if the waiter was around anywhere. If Clayton got wind that Bryson
liked the human, the man would try to play matchmaker.

That was the last thing Bryson wanted. Clayton couldn’t match a

bird to a nest. The guy sucked when it came to helping others with
their love lives, a fact that had been proven when he tried to help Jed
and Noah resolve their difference when the two had first started
dating.

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Lynn Hagen

Clayton had locked the two men in a cabin, hoping Jed and Noah

worked out their problems.

The two men had ended up parting ways. Of course, later they’d

gotten back together, but it had been no thanks to Clayton’s meddling.

Bryson was the last of the men on the Triple-B ranch to find his

mate. Although he was on the lookout for any scent that would give
him a clue, he caught glimpses of pity from his friends.

It angered Bryson that they felt he was unhappy just because he

was single. The other men tried not to show affection to their mates
when Bryson was around, as if he’d go off the deep end because he
didn’t have anyone to cuddle with.

What a crock of shit.
But he tried his best not to hold it against any of them. He

understood their intentions were good—if a bit irritating.

“You’re late!” Clayton shouted toward the door.
Bryson turned on his stool to see Milo rushing in, his red hair

standing on end and his shirt half-buttoned. He had a tattered yellow
backpack slung over his back and an apologetic expression in his
emerald-green eyes. When Milo gazed Bryson’s way, the human
stumbled forward, nearly falling on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Milo said as he recovered. His fingers clutched the

strap over his shoulder just a bit tighter as his eyes swung from
Bryson to Clayton. “I had to take my cat to the vet.”

“Is he sick?” Clayton asked.
Milo’s fiery red eyebrows dipped together, the skin between his

eyes creasing. “No, no. She’s pregnant and I could have sworn she
was meowing because she was in labor. Turns out, she just had gas.”

Clayton chucked his thumb toward the back hallway. “Just go

clock in.” He turned toward Bryson as he slowly shook his head.
“Guy’s a bit strange, but a hell of a worker.” Clayton scratched at his
neck. “Though he is a bit of a klutz.”

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Cowboy Rescue

13

Bryson grabbed a handful of pretzels from a bowl on the bar and

tossed a few into his mouth. Now that Milo was here, Bryson’s heart
was beating a little faster.

He wasn’t sure if he could go through with this.
What if Milo rejected him?
Bryson jerked from his stool when Milo rushed from the back,

tripped, and landed on his ass. He started to go see if the guy was
okay, but Milo sprang to his feet, glanced around, and then hurried
over toward the booths.

Clayton leaned against the back shelf, his lips twisted to one side

as he shook his head. “I swear, if he keeps that up, I’ll be paying
workers’ comp.”

Bryson sat down, his back to Clayton. He rested his arms on the

counter as he watched Milo take orders, clear tables, and try his best
to stay upright. He was a walking disaster and Bryson couldn’t be
more smitten.

There was just something about the guy. He wasn’t sure why he

thought the man’s klutziness was cute.

“Here you go.” Clayton set a beer on the counter. “I need to ask

you something.”

Bryson turned back around and grabbed his beer, taking a sip as

he eyed his friend. One never knew what was going to come out of
the Clayton’s mouth. Bryson braced himself and nodded. He just
hoped that Clayton didn’t say anything about Milo.

He spotted Milo coming close, placing empty glasses on the bar.

Bryson cleared his throat. “Hi, Milo.”

The waiter turned, smiled at him, and then made some strange

squawking noise when he opened his mouth. Milo’s eyes widened
before he gave Bryson his back and hurried away.

“Did I miss something?” Bryson asked Clayton as he wondered

why Milo had made that noise.

“I told you, he’s very unique.”

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Lynn Hagen

Maybe it was a language Bryson didn’t know. It had sounded

more like tires screeching or metal scraping together than any noise a
human voice should make.

The sound was definitely weird.

* * * *


Milo tried his best not to look Bryson’s way. He was having a

hard enough time concentrating as it was. Every time the sexy
cowboy came into the bar, Milo felt flushed. Over the past week, he’d
been trying to get up the nerve to say something to the guy, but every
time Milo opened his mouth, a weird noise came out instead of words.

He refused to embarrass himself any further. At least not on

purpose. He wasn’t sure what that noise was that left his mouth, but
Milo was mortified.

If he had had any chance at a date, that chance was now long

gone. Who would want to go out with someone who squawked like a
bird?

But Milo knew he shouldn’t even think about dating. Not when he

was living on borrowed time. Sooner or later, Mr. Quinn McNeal
would find him, and Milo would suffer through his father’s request.

Who was he kidding? It wasn’t a request.
“You got any more of those tiny pretzels?” Jack Cross asked.

“They’re the only ones I can eat that don’t have a shitload of salt on
them. I already had a stroke. I don’t need a damn heart attack.”

“I’ll get some from the bar.” Milo tucked his serving tray under

his arm and weaved his way around the tables. His gaze returned to
Bryson who was still sitting at the bar, but Milo forced himself to
look straight ahead.

If he didn’t, he was going to trip over something.
To his father’s dismay, Milo had been a klutz his entire life. It

wasn’t like he did it on purpose. His mother used to tell him that it

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Cowboy Rescue

15

was part of his charming personality and that he would outgrow it one
day.

Milo would argue otherwise, but she had passed years ago,

leaving him with a father who tried to dictate Milo’s life. That was the
reason he had fled sunny California and headed east. He was just
afraid he hadn’t run far enough to escape Quinn McNeal’s grasping
reaches.

His father was a self-made millionaire, owning stocks in some of

the biggest companies around the world. But the man’s specialty was
micromanaging every single aspect of Milo’s life.

Milo spotted a fresh bowl of pretzels on the counter and grabbed

it, taking it back to where Jack and his friends were sitting. He wished
he had friends he could sit around and shoot the breeze with. Having a
father like Quinn had dashed any hopes of Milo actually having a
happy, healthy social life.

Now all he had was Elyse, his pregnant cat.
He’d found her that way in the trailer park he now resided in.

Quinn would have a triple heart attack if he saw the place where Milo
lived.

“Here you go.” Milo set the bowl down. “Is there anything else

you gentlemen need?”

“A hot blonde with really big melons.” One of the men cackled as

he nudged his elbow into Jack. “That would be great!”

“What would you do with her, Ted?” Jack asked. “You can’t even

get your willy up enough to piss, let alone please a woman.”

Milo tucked his lips in, smiling at the banter between the men. “I

won’t be far away if you need anything within reason.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” the man who’d requested a well-endowed

woman said to Jack. “Let a guy live a little.”

Jack tossed a few pretzels in his mouth. “I do. I didn’t say a word

when you tried to pick up that baby at the supermarket.”

“She wasn’t a baby!” Ted insisted. “She was over twenty-one.”

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Lynn Hagen

“And you’re sixty-five,” Jack pointed out. “What were you gonna

do, be her sugar granddaddy? Give her your retirement check? Whoa,
way to live it up.”

“You’re an ass,” Ted grumbled and then chuckled. “But it would

have been fun to chase her around the bedroom just to see that young,
plump ass bounce around.”

The men hooted with laughter as Milo walked away. Since

coming to Bear County, he’d met quite a few characters, but none like
Bryson Duran. The man was built like a prize-winning ox and had the
prettiest deep-grey eyes Milo had ever seen. The guy was massive in
size, but Milo liked them big.

Unlike the weasel Quinn was trying to marry Milo off to. His

father had no problem with Milo being gay. Surprisingly, that hadn’t
been an issue. But Quinn insisted on picking out the perfect man for
Milo to marry.

Not happening.

Drake Heffenshire was the prince of the country club Quinn

owned. He was a Harvard graduate and came from old money. The
man was stuffy, boring, and looked at Milo the same way Quinn
looked at him, like he was going to run Milo’s life.

Again, not happening.
All Milo wanted was to live his life on his own terms. He didn’t

care about money or status. He just wanted the simple things out of
life.

And that pissed Quinn off to no end.
It wouldn’t bother Milo in the least to settle down in this

semismall town and live an uncomplicated life where he had genuine
friends and good times. Now that was the kind of wealth Milo would
treasure.

“Hey, Milo.” Clayton snapped his fingers. “You here with us?”
Milo blinked and then felt the heat suffusing his face. “Sorry.”
Clayton pointed toward the back of the bar. “Go get a case of

Heineken from the storage room.”

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Cowboy Rescue

17

Milo placed his serving tray on the bar and headed to the storage

room. It was well stocked back here and it took Milo a good ten
minutes to find the case of beer that Clayton had wanted.

The case was too far up on the shelf so Milo made some steps out

of boxes. He climbed up, steadying himself, and then reached for the
box he needed.

“Need some help?”
Milo shouted as he and the case went flying backward. He threw

his arms out—like that was going to do him any good—as he went
crashing to the floor. But Bryson caught him before he landed.

Unfortunately, the case of Heinekens wasn’t so lucky. He heard

glass shattering before the smell of beer filled the small room.

“Steady there,” Bryson said.
Milo was afraid to look up. His back was smashed against the

man’s burly chest, Bryson’s hands on his sides. Milo felt a funny
current running through his body, the warmth of Bryson seeping
through the shirt Milo was wearing. His breath grew shallow and his
mind suddenly lost its ability to form words.

Until he glanced at the box on the floor.
“Oh, no.” Milo quickly pushed from the man’s body as he stared

at the soaking-wet case. “Clayton is going to make me pay for that.”

“I scared you, so I’ll pay for it,” Bryson offered.
“You’d do that for me?”
Bryson shrugged. “It was my fault.”
When Milo had dreamt of finally talking to the guy, this wasn’t

what he’d had in mind. But he couldn’t let Bryson pay for his
clumsiness.

Bryson reached up and grabbed another case, handing it to Milo.

“Take that to Clayton while I clean this up.”

He wasn’t sure what to say. No one had been this kind to him

before. “Thank you.” Milo headed toward the door that led back into
the bar, his steps feeling lighter.

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Lynn Hagen

His conversation with Bryson might not have been what he’d

expected, but they had talked nonetheless.

It was a start.

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Cowboy Rescue

19





Chapter Two


Milo still didn’t understand his attraction toward a complete

stranger. He’d never pursued anyone before, and he was starting to
think that maybe Bryson was out of his reach. He cursed under his
breath as he set the case on the counter and then grabbed his tray,
hurrying back over toward the booths. The crowd had thickened
slightly and Milo was glad for the reprieve.

He saw that Angelina had finally shown up for work. Now he

would have someone to help distract him from ogling Bryson all
evening. But all he could think about was how it had felt to have
Bryson’s fingers on his body. The moment they’d touched him, tiny
shocks had rocked him.

“You look a bit flushed,” Angelina said as she tied her half apron

on. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

“No, no. I’m fine.”
She gave him a coy smile. “Then you’re still infatuated with

Bryson.”

“Shhh.” Milo grabbed her arm, pulling her further away from the

bar. “Not so loud.”

“Why don’t you just tell him?” She tied back her black hair with a

scrunchy. “The worst that could happen is he turns you down.”

“You make being rejected sound so simple.”
“I’ve dealt with my fair share of rejection,” she said. Milo didn’t

see how. Angelina was simply beautiful. What straight man in his
right mind would turn her down?

Then again, Milo judged beauty by personality, not looks.

Angelina was the sweetest woman he’d ever met, which made her

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Lynn Hagen

gorgeous in his eyes. She was also the sheriff’s sister. Maybe that was
why men turned her down. Who wanted to deal with her older
brother? “Yeah, well, I’m not ready to feel the sting of rejection.”

“You got to be willing to risk it if you want to reel in the catch.”

She winked at him before going behind the bar to retrieve a tray.
When Milo glanced Bryson’s way, their gazes met and for a long
moment, Milo lost track of where he was and what he was doing.

God, he is handsome.
Milo saw a smile twitching at the corner of Bryson’s mouth and

wondered what was going on inside the man’s head. Milo dragged his
eyes away as he cleared his throat and smiled at the men and women
sitting at one of his booths. “Can I get your orders?”

After jotting everyone’s drink order down, Milo took it over to the

bar, keeping his distance from Bryson. The man made Milo nervous
and his klutziness only worsened around the guy. Keeping distance
between them was a smart idea in Milo’s opinion.

Apparently Bryson didn’t agree. He got up from his stool and

walked to where Milo was waiting for his orders to be filled. If he
wasn’t mistaken, Bryson was nervous. The man cleared his throat a
few times as his deep-grey eyes darted around the room before
settling on Milo.

“Thanks again for helping me in the storage room,” Milo said.
“Not a problem.” Bryson scratched the back of his neck, his lips

twisted to the side, before he asked, “I was wondering. If you’re not
doing anything—”

“Stop harassing my waiter.” Clayton filled Milo’s tray with the

drinks. “Unless you’re asking him out. In that case, carry on.”

Milo lifted the tray from the counter, turned, and then tripped over

Bryson’s boot. The tray went flying and so did Milo. For the second
time today, Bryson caught him, stopping Milo from hitting the floor.

“Damn it!” Clayton shouted.

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Cowboy Rescue

21

“Gotcha,” Bryson said as he pulled Milo to his feet. “That was my

fault, Clayton.” Bryson turned toward the owner. “You know my feet
are too damn big. They got in the way.”

Clayton grunted. “Just clean the mess up while I remake that

order.”

Milo bit back a chuckle when Bryson gave Clayton a one-finger

salute. He grabbed the dustpan as Bryson swept the glass. “We’re
starting to make a pretty good team at cleaning up broken glass,”
Bryson said.

They were, but Milo was waiting for Bryson to ask him whatever

it was he was going to ask him before Clayton had interrupted. But
Bryson didn’t say another word about it. As the big guy dumped the
glass, Clayton got the mop bucket out and thoroughly cleaned the
area.

“Looks great.” Bryson smiled.
“Now let’s see if you can do this right.” Clayton pointed at the

tray before looking at Bryson. “Stay out of his way.”

Thankfully, the rest of Milo’s evening went well. He didn’t break

another thing. Too bad Bryson never came over and talked to him
again. As a matter of fact, not too long after that last incident, the guy
had taken off.

His chances of getting to know Bryson better were looking

slimmer and slimmer.

* * * *


The following day, well into the afternoon, Bryson walked from

the stables. He’d cleaned every last stall and fed the horses. He was
now ready for a long, hot shower. He smelled liked he’d rolled around
in crap and sawdust. The pungent odor was so strong that he was
ready to run from himself.

As he walked toward the house, Bryson kicked at the small

pebbles under his boots. He was still cursing himself for running like

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Lynn Hagen

a scared little boy last night. Bryson wanted to take Milo out on a
date. He’d almost asked the guy, but had lost his nerve after he’d been
interrupted.

The screen door squeaked as he opened it and stepped inside the

mudroom. After removing his boots, he wandered into the kitchen.
Renee crinkled her nose and pointed toward the stairs. “Don’t stop
walking, Bryson. Dresden and I just scrubbed this kitchen down and
you’re stinking it up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bryson ambled his way up the steps and into his

bedroom where he stripped and showered. As the steaming-hot water
slid down his back, Bryson thought about Milo’s dark-green eyes and
fire-red hair.

That alone was enough to make him hard. His cock pulsed as the

water glided over his heated flesh. Bryson wrapped his fingers around
his shaft as his head rocked back on his shoulders. His imagination
took flight, and in his mind, Milo was in the shower with Bryson.

The guy was on his knees, gazing up at Bryson in pure wonder,

his lips moist as they skimmed over the head of his cock.

Bryson’s grip tightened almost painfully.
“Suck me,” he whispered into the shower.
And Milo did.
His mouth sucked Bryson in, all the way to the back of his throat.

In his fantasy, Milo’s gag reflex was nonexistent. His heart stuttered
and all the breath left his chest in a pleasurable rush.

Bryson stroked himself faster. Milo’s image blazed through his

mind as the man licked him from root to tip before swallowing him
once more. Bryson gritted his teeth, stopping himself from shouting
when his seed erupted, hitting the wall of the shower.

He slumped against the tiles, pressing his forehead into the wall.

Why couldn’t he get up the nerve to ask the guy out? It frustrated the
hell out of him that he was so shy. Although he couldn’t help it,
Bryson hated that about himself.

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23

He washed himself and then turned the water off. Jacking off

hadn’t helped. If anything, he felt a bit aggressive from the pent-up
frustration.

After dressing, Bryson stepped into the hall to find Clayton

leaning against the wall.

“What’s up?” Bryson asked after closing his bedroom door.
“I wanted to talk business with you.” Clayton thrust his hands into

his pockets. “I wanted to know if you’d buy me out.”

“The Ugly Broad?” Bryson asked. That was a double-edged

sword. Bryson wouldn’t mind owning something other than a piece of
the Triple-B, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be Milo’s boss. That
would change things. Bryson wouldn’t be comfortable pursuing one
of his employees.

“I want to spend more time with my family. I don’t want them to

feel like I’m neglecting them with two jobs.”

Bryson still wasn’t sure if owning the tavern was the right move.

He stayed busy enough on the ranch.

Clayton slapped him on the back. “Just think about it, okay?”
Bryson grinned broadly as he stared at his friend. “You’re gonna

pester me until I give you an answer, aren’t you?”

“Would I do that?” Clayton asked.
“Yes, you would,” Clayton’s mate Josh said as he walked down

the hallway. The slim blond had his son, Kane, over his shoulder. He
handed the infant off to Clayton. “He’s fussy and Sparrow had to go
into work. Your turn to calm him.”

Bryson was still amazed that Clayton had mated two men. That

was almost unheard of in the shifter world. And out of their love
triangle, Kane had been born. Clayton took the small boy into his
arms as he glanced at Bryson. “Just think about it.”

Josh and Clayton walked down the steps as Bryson stood there,

imagining himself as part owner of the saloon. Clayton had said that it
was losing money. If Bryson agreed to buy the guy out, he would

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Lynn Hagen

have to find out why it was losing money and then make some
changes.

The noise level downstairs reached a fever pitch. Six youngens

tended to do that. And they were all under the age of five. Bryson
wondered what it would be like to have a child of his own down there,
causing a fuss.

That won’t happen if you don’t find your mate.
Being shy wasn’t helping him. What if Milo was his mate?

Bryson had entertained that thought last night on his drive home.
Every time he was around Milo, Bryson scented honey-roasted
walnuts and licorice. But he couldn’t go by smell alone.

And he would never find out if he didn’t open his damn mouth

and ask Milo out.

He’d been this way for as long as he could recall. Bryson had

grown up in a shifter community where size mattered. Other bear
shifters his age had tested Bryson. It was some strange game they
liked to play. If a scrawny guy could knock Bryson on his ass, then
the guy had bragging rights.

But Bryson had yet to be put on his ass. He might be shy, but he

wasn’t a pushover. His brute strength came in handy on the ranch and
when he had lived at home, helping his pa in the garage. But it didn’t
mean squat when it came to Milo. He had to use his brain for this one.

And a hefty dose of courage.

* * * *


Milo sat on top of the washing machine, kicking his legs back and

forth as he waited for his load to finish. He didn’t own a washer and
dryer of his own, so he was in town at the local Laundromat.

It was a quiet and peaceful night. Not too many people were out

even though the sun was setting. He stared out of the large floor-to-
ceiling windows, gazing at the big ball of red slowly descending
behind the mountains.

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25

There was one other person in the Laundromat with him. Milo

didn’t know the guy, but he noticed how the man kept stealing
glances at him. Milo felt pretty safe in Bear County. He’d heard about
the raid on Lamont’s Trailer Heaven, but that was before he’d come
to town. The trailer park was a pretty nice place to live in his opinion.
This whole town was.

So when the stranger continued to stare at him, Milo ignored the

guy. He hopped down when his load was finished and transferred his
wet clothes to the dryer.

As he closed the door and slid his coins into the slot, he saw

something out of the corner of his eye that caught his attention. Milo
turned to see Bryson walking past the big window.

Milo hurried across the room, slowing his steps when he got close

to the door. He didn’t want to seem like he was chasing the man
down, even if he was.

“Bryson?” he said in a voice that sounded as if he’d just spotted

the guy. Harland was there as well. He said something to Bryson, so
low Milo couldn’t catch the words, and then Harland continued to
walk as Bryson turned and headed back toward Milo.

“What are you doing in town?” Bryson asked. Milo wanted to

point out that he was standing in front of a Laundromat but decided it
wasn’t that important.

Besides, his attention was on the faded jeans and tight T-shirt

Bryson wore. They fit snugly and showed off his ripped body. “Had
some things to do. What are you doing here?”

Bryson crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps swelling as he

leaned against the building in a nonchalant manner. “Enjoying the
nice evening.”

It was a nice evening. Milo stood there in his knee-length shorts

and a tank top. He was wearing sandals on his feet and wished he had
used some lotion on his skin. His feet looked a little dry.

But the air was warm and the sun had finally gone down, leaving

him to talk to Bryson under the streetlight. He pointed toward his tan

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Lynn Hagen

car, the only thing he’d taken with him when he left California. “I
brought my laundry into town.”

Bryson gazed at the building he was leaning against. His cheeks

pinked as if the man realized the obvious.

“It’s my night off so I’m catching up on my chores.” Milo tried

desperately to think of something witty to say, but all he could think
about was laundry.

As he stared at Bryson, Milo felt an empty ache inside of him, a

void he wouldn’t mind this man filling. There was something about
Bryson, something that made Milo feel as if he’d known the man his
entire life.

He turned when he heard the roar of motorcycles. Four riders

turned down the street and drove past. Milo sighed.

“Like bikers?” Bryson asked.
“Like bad boys,” Milo said, the words slipping free before he had

a chance to stop them. “I mean, they’re okay.”

Something shone in Bryson’s deep-grey eyes before he glanced in

the direction the bikers had ridden.

Milo chewed his lower lip before saying, “I like cowboys as

well.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Big guys
are my favorite.”

He suppressed a smile when Bryson’s biceps flexed. He still

wasn’t sure if Bryson liked him, and Milo had been trying to gauge
the man since first spotting him at the bar.

But Bryson was a hard guy to read. The cowboy didn’t say much

as far as conversations went, so Milo had no idea what was on the
man’s mind. “Guys who are as big as you,” Milo added.

If the hints he was dropping fell on deaf ears, he would have his

answer. Either that or Bryson was a very thickheaded man.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Bryson asked and

Milo breathed a sigh of relief. They were finally getting somewhere.
He no longer had to guess whether Bryson liked him or not.

A date meant the man was interested.

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“I would love to,” Milo answered. “When and where?”
Milo spotted the man in the Laundromat watching him through

the big window. It was a bit unsettling. He didn’t know the guy and
wondered why the stranger kept ogling him. He glanced away and
looked up at Bryson for an answer.

“Tomorrow afternoon good for you?” Bryson asked as he glanced

over his shoulder, looking into the building. The stranger was
reaching into a machine now, so Bryson probably hadn’t seen the man
staring at Milo.

“I have to be to work at eight,” he said.
“I’ll have you back in plenty of time,” Bryson promised.
Milo stepped aside when a couple walked past, his eyes darting

toward the ground. He wasn’t sure how accepting people around here
were of gay men and he was trying to keep a low profile. The fewer
people who knew him, the better.

The last thing Milo wanted was for his father to show up. Quinn’s

reach was far and there was no telling if the man would find out
where Milo was. He wouldn’t put it past his father to employ a private
detective.

It wasn’t that Quinn was desperate to have him back. It was more

that Milo had defied the man’s order, and Quinn McNeal didn’t take
defiance lightly. He was a beast in business and overbearing to deal
with in any circumstance.

“Then I’ll see you at eight,” Milo said with a soft smile as he

turned and ran right into the window of the Laundromat. A shooting
pain pulsed from his nose as he backed up.

Bryson jerked away from the wall. “Are you okay?”
Milo rocked his nose from side to side and was relieved that he

hadn’t broken it. “The only thing hurt is my pride.”

Bryson chuckled as Milo walked back inside, beaming from ear to

ear. He had a date with the hot cowboy.

Go me!

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Lynn Hagen





Chapter Three


“Can I borrow your motorcycle?”
Sparrow stopped on the bottom porch step, his hand on the

banister. “You don’t just ask a guy to borrow his hog.”

“Why not?”
Sparrow’s gaze wandered over Bryson’s face. “It’s sacrilege to

allow anyone on your motorcycle except a really hot babe.”

“I just want to use if for the evening,” Bryson said.
“Do you even know how to ride?”
Bryson nodded. “Me and my pa used to go riding a lot.”
He and his father had ridden the back roads often when Bryson

was younger. He had considered buying a motorcycle when he first
moved to Bear County, but with all the work the four men were
putting into the ranch at the time, the idea had slowly faded. He loved
to ride, though, and wanted to take Milo on a day trip up into the
mountains. Bryson couldn’t think of a better way to spend time with
the redhead.

After getting up the nerve to ask Milo out, Bryson wanted to be

the big badass the man was looking for. He was wearing a black
ribbed tank top, faded blue jeans with rips in each knee and one in his
back pocket. He made sure he put his wallet in the pocket that didn’t
have a hole.

He was even wearing his favorite well-worn shit kickers.
Before coming downstairs, Bryson had examined himself in his

mirror and was satisfied that he looked like a hardcore biker.

Something he was not.

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But he knew Milo had this weird desire to hang out with a bad

boy. Bryson just hoped he didn’t let the guy down. “Just for the
evening,” Bryson said.

“I don’t know.” Sparrow rubbed his hand over his jaw. “If

anything happened to my—”

“Nothing will happen, I swear.” Bryson checked his watch to see

he had fifteen minutes before he was supposed to pick Milo up. “If I
crash your hog, then you can have my truck.”

Sparrow’s dark eyebrow lifted. “That desperate?”
“Kind of,” he answered, hating to admit that to the sheriff.
Bryson had just bought his truck two years ago. It still looked

brand new. It even smelled brand new on the inside. He took damn
good care of the things he owned. His red-and-black pickup had been
customized for someone of Bryson’s size. It had duel exhaust, an
extended cab, and all the bells and whistles a guy could want.

He’d paid a mint for it.
But yes, he was desperate to impress Milo. Besides, he didn’t plan

on putting a scratch on Sparrow’s motorcycle.

Sparrow reached into his pocket and pulled the keys out, dangling

them in front of Bryson. When Bryson reached for them, Sparrow
snatched them back. “Not one dang scratch and bring it back on full.”

“Will do.” Bryson grabbed the keys before Sparrow could change

his mind.

He headed outside to see the shiny Harley parked close to the

house. Before getting on, he pulled a dark-blue bandana from his back
pocket and tied it onto his head, covering his dome.

His biker badass look was complete.
Bryson swung his leg over and started the motor, listening to the

purr of the engine before he guided the Harley down the driveway.
Once he was on blacktop, he took off, kicking the bike up just a tad
past the speed limit, his pulse racing at riding once again.

It was also racing because Bryson was about to see Milo.

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Lynn Hagen

He knew he wasn’t thinking with a clear head. Bryson loved his

truck almost as much as he loved breathing. The promise had not only
stunned Sparrow, it had stunned Bryson as well. He had never acted
so irresponsibly before. He just couldn’t bring himself to regret
making the deal so he could see Milo’s reaction.

It didn’t take him long to get to the trailer park. Bryson slowed,

navigating the corners carefully as he searched for Milo’s place. He’d
forgotten to ask for Milo’s address last night, so he’d had Harland
look it up in the man’s application. If Milo hadn’t already agreed to a
date, Bryson would classify himself as a stalker.

But Milo had agreed.
Bryson smiled when he pulled up next to Milo’s home. It was a

double-wide tan-and-white trailer with a flower bed out front. There
was also a small deck with two chairs and a table that had an
umbrella. The surroundings were well kept and the porch looked to
have been swept off.

Nonetheless, once Bryson dismounted and climbed the steps, he

wiped his feet thoroughly on the welcome mat. He knocked and
waited, his palms sweaty as hell.

He frowned when he heard something crash inside followed by

someone cursing. Was Milo okay?

Milo appeared in the doorway before he pushed the screen open.

His eyes grazed up and down Bryson’s body. “Wow.”

Bryson took that as a compliment.
“You look…fantastic.” Milo stood there ogling him for a moment

longer before he blushed, his green eyes shimmering with heat. “I’m
sorry. Where are my manners? Come on in.”

As soon as Bryson stepped inside, a tan cat swiped at him.
“Elyse, no.” Milo wiggled a finger as he reprimanded the cat. “Be

nice.”

“She’s fine.” Bryson had a feeling the pregnant cat could sense his

bear and was being protective of Milo. But he couldn’t tell Milo this.

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Crouching, Bryson stuck his hand out and waited for Elyse to

come closer. The cat sat there staring at him as if to say she wasn’t
falling for his trick.

“It’s okay,” Bryson said. “We’re cool.”
The tan cat moved closer, sniffed, and then swiped at Bryson

again, drawing blood.

“Oh my god!” Milo hurried into the kitchen and wet a towel.

Bryson followed. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into her.
It might be the gas.” He patted the towel over the scratch mark.

Bryson didn’t argue, didn’t say a word as Milo held his hand and

attended to him. He liked feeling the slender fingers glide over his
skin and wasn’t in a rush to pull his hand away.

As he stood there, Bryson took in the place. Milo was living in

one of the better homes in this park. There was an island in the
kitchen and a large television on the wall. The furniture appeared to
be brand new, or close to being brand new. The suede sofa was
overstuffed and the coffee table was made of black smoked glass.

Even the kitchen was updated and nice. Milo’s home was calm

and uncluttered, simply decorated.

“I like your place,” Bryson said. “It’s cozy.”
“Thanks.” Milo tossed the towel aside and looked closer at

Bryson’s wound. It was just a scratch. It wasn’t even deep. The red
line was about an inch long and would heal in no time.

“Would you like something to drink?” Milo asked, walking to the

cupboard. “I have iced tea.”

“Sounds perfect.” Bryson leaned against the island and watched as

Milo poured two glassfuls. He observed the way Milo’s slim frame
moved around with ease. Bryson glanced down at the man’s ass and
silently groaned.

What a nice ass.
“Here you go.”
Elyse padded over to where they stood and then sat. If Bryson

didn’t know any better, he’d say the cat’s expression was challenging.

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Lynn Hagen

“I heard a motorcycle,” Milo said. “Was that you?”
Bryson tried to relax, tried not to let his nervousness show. He

clutched his glass to stop his hand from shaking and feared he would
shatter it. “Are you ready to take off?”

Milo drank half his tea down before placing both glasses in the

sink. “Yep.”

Bryson and Elyse exchanged a hard look at each other before he

walked to the door, Milo right behind him.

When Bryson stepped outside, he took a look around. Since the

big sting operation a few months back, the park already seemed like it
was settling back into the way it was before those hoodlums had taken
over. He spotted a few of the elderly residents standing outside,
talking. That was something they wouldn’t have done when Buck and
the other drug dealers lived here.

But they were all rotting in jail now. The residents finally felt safe

in their own community.

That thought made Bryson smile.
“What a nice bike,” Milo said. “Yours?”
“I borrowed it from a friend of mine,” Bryson admitted.
“Then let’s go for a ride.” Milo seemed excited enough for the

both of them. Bryson could feel the electric energy in the air as Milo
stared at the bike with glee.

“Do you know how to ride?” Bryson asked as he pulled a pair of

sunglasses from the saddlebag and handed them to the redhead.

“Never been on a motorcycle a day in my life,” Milo said simply

as he slid the shades into place.

Bryson paused. From the way Milo had been acting, he would

have thought the man had ridden plenty of times. “Never?”

“Nope.” Milo pushed the frames up his nose when they slide back

down. “But they look like so much fun.”

Bryson reveled in the fact that he would be the person to take

Milo on his first ride. He mounted the bike, slipped his dark

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sunglasses into place, and then patted the seat behind him. “Get on,
my little virgin rider.”

Milo burst out laughing and the humor was contagious. Bryson

began to chuckle, smiling at the happiness surrounding Milo. He
couldn’t recall seeing anyone look so handsome, so carefree before.
Bryson wanted a piece of that sunshine, to bask in Milo’s glow.

Bryson grabbed Milo around the waist. The man sucked in a

breath of surprise. His fingers lingered on the man for a moment
before he said, “Let’s get out of here.”

Milo nodded before he grabbed Bryson’s shoulders and climbed

on. Bryson kept the bike steady. Milo wasn’t the smoothest when it
came to climbing on a bike. The guy’s knee swung into Bryson’s ass
before he perched himself into position. “Sorry about that.”

Gracefulness was not one of Milo’s blessings.
“Not a problem,” Bryson said as he started the Harley. Milo laced

his fingers together, holding onto Bryson around his chest, as if afraid
to place his hands any lower.

The bike kicked up a cloud of dust as they drove away. Moments

later, Bryson pulled onto a paved road and sped up. Milo leaned into
the curve of Bryson’s body as he tightened his grip.

He was going to hate when the ride was over. Bryson liked feeling

Milo’s arms wrapped around him. It wasn’t exactly an embrace, but it
was close enough and Bryson found himself getting half-hard.

The road to the mountain wasn’t heavy with traffic. Bryson

managed to maintain a steady speed as they passed a few semi-trucks
and other vehicles on their ascent. He could feel Milo pressing his
cheek between Bryson’s shoulder blades. Was Milo doing okay back
there? This was his first ride. Was the guy scared?

After riding for forty-five minutes, Bryson found a dirt road

winding up into a thick forest. He decided to take the road and give
them a break from riding.

Luck was on their side. He spotted an old house, no bigger than a

small cabin. It appeared to be deserted. One window was missing and

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Lynn Hagen

there weren’t any curtains hanging. The weeds were overgrown,
nature taking back what was hers.

“Where are we?” Milo asked when Bryson pulled the Harley to a

stop and turned the bike off.

“I have no clue,” Bryson said. “I just wanted to stop and stretch

my legs.”

That wasn’t entirely true. Bryson could ride for hours. He just

wasn’t sure if Milo could.

“It doesn’t look like anyone lives here.” Milo dismounted,

grunting when he climbed off. He pressed his hands into the small of
his back and then walked a few feet away from Bryson, shaking his
legs out.

Bryson had made the right call. Milo appeared to need a break. He

got off the bike and walked around the small house, peering inside
one of the windows. He was right. No one lived here. The interior was
empty except for a few pieces of dusty furniture.

Milo took a seat on the front steps, stretching his legs out in front

of him as he rested his elbows on the steps behind him. “This view is
gorgeous.”

Bryson came around front and gazed off into the distance. He had

an unobstructed view of Bear County. The town was nestled in the
deep valley of the mountains all around.

It was a picturesque view that would make a perfect postcard. He

could even see the Triple-B from up here.

Since moving to this town, Bryson had felt a kinship to the place.

His bear loved the wide-open space and the clean, fresh air. Back
home, where he’d grown up, it was more like a small suburb, houses
close together. His hometown was what one might call a mix between
country and city. His bear had had plenty of room to run, but not like
this place offered.

Bryson took a seat next to Milo, mimicking the man as he

stretched his legs out.

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“This is as far from the beaten path as you can get,” Milo said.

The man sighed contently as he played with the keys in his hand.

Bryson spotted an angel sitting on a moon dangling from Milo’s

keys. “What’s this?” he asked as he touched the charm.

Milo’s eyes became wistful. “My mother gave it to me right

before she passed away. It’s the only thing I have left of hers. After
her funeral, my father gathered all of her things and had them taken
away. It’s something I hold very dear to my heart, and I would die if I
ever lost it.”

Bryson had never heard such heartfelt words coming from anyone

before in his life. It only endeared Milo to him even more.

Gaining courage and confidence, Bryson reached over and laced

their fingers together. Milo flinched in surprise and then his eyes
jetted away, a blush creeping over his face.

Bryson caressed his thumb back and forth over Milo’s hand as he

studied the scenery, physically aware of the man sitting next to him.
Holding Milo’s hand sent a warm sensation up his arm and over his
chest. He didn’t look at Milo. Bryson wanted this to be as natural as
breathing.

And it was.
He couldn’t believe how right it felt to touch the redhead. They sat

there for the longest time, silently enjoying each other’s company.
Bryson couldn’t even hear the traffic from the main road. It was
peaceful.

“What made you move to Bear County?” Bryson asked.
Milo stiffened slightly, and Bryson caught the tension that filled

the air. Milo was hiding something.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Milo’s cheek. “Have I told

you how good you smell?”

Milo chuckled. “That’s the weirdest compliment I’ve ever

gotten.”

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Lynn Hagen

Bryson touched Milo’s jaw, slid his finger underneath the man’s

ear and to his nape. He pulled Milo carefully forward until Milo’s lips
were just a breath away from his. “It’s true.”

The anxiety that swam like a raging river inside of him settled into

a softly flowing stream. Being with Milo was easy, comfortable.

Milo ducked his head and Bryson did as well, sliding his mouth

fully over Milo’s. He closed his eyes at the softness, the
overwhelming scent that invaded his lungs. His heart fluttered and
turned over like someone had released a jar full of butterflies in his
chest.

Milo’s fingers tightened in Bryson’s before the man moved just a

bit closer, opening for Bryson’s explorations. Bryson’s tongue slid
sensuously over Milo’s top lip and then the bottom before he gently
slipped between them to open Milo to his advances.

It was the sweetest kiss Bryson had ever had, and he began to

ache for more.

Milo grinned into the kiss and then pushed Bryson away. He

laughed as he jumped up and took off across the overgrown field.
Bryson growled in sweet pleasure as he gave chase. He caught Milo
in no time flat, tossing the man over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry
before taking Milo to the bike.

Bryson still wondered what secret Milo was holding close, but he

kept his curiosity in check, unwilling to let anything spoil their day
together.

Getting to know Milo seemed more of a promise now. Bryson

wasn’t so nervous anymore. He’d broken the ice with that wonderful
kiss and now he felt as if he could take on the world.

He didn’t want the day to end.

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37





Chapter Four


Milo was walking briskly down the street when he spotted a black

BMW parked outside the barbershop. It was the same model his
father owned. Had Quinn found him? Had his father tracked him here
to Bear County?

His heart was beating in his throat as he hurried to where he’d

parked his tan Camry. He was trying so hard to rush that the car
seemed a million miles away.

A migraine started in the back of his skull and worked its way

around as Milo dug in his pockets for his keys. If it was in fact Quinn,
he had to get out of here and fast. His father wouldn’t hesitate to
strong-arm Milo into going with him.

His legs grew so weak they were like worn-out rubber bands,

threatening to send him to his knees when he saw a stranger get into
the BMW.

It wasn’t Quinn.
Loathing filled him at his sense of fear. Milo hated living like this.

He resented his father more than ever for making him look over his
shoulder all the time.

“You will do what I say, when I say, and there will be nothing

more to this,” Quinn shouted, his face ruddy with anger.

“You can’t live my life for me!” Milo shouted back. “I’m not

marrying Drake. If you like him so much, you marry him.”

Quinn’s fist slammed into the desk he was standing behind. Acid

rose, burning a path through Milo’s chest. He’d never seen his father
this angry before.

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“Defy me on this, Milo, and I’ll make your life a living hell,”

Quinn warned as his green eyes blazed with fury. “You will do exactly
what I tell you to do or suffer the consequences.”

Milo shuddered at the memory as he scrubbed his hands up and

down his arms. Even though it was summer, he felt cold to his bones.

He slowed his pace, trying to rid himself of the pounding behind

his eyes. So long ago that Milo sometimes wondered if he’d
hallucinated the memories, his father had been a loving and caring
man.

But after Milo’s mother died, Quinn had turned cold and distant.

He dove into his work, building up his portfolio and investments,
ignoring his only child.

Milo would have happily lived in a tin hut, poor, if he could have

just had the man back that he remembered. He didn’t care about the
money. Milo wanted the love his father had once shown him.

Immersed in thought, Milo didn’t see the man in front of him until

he ran into the guy. He grunted, falling on his ass.

“Hey, are you all right?”
When Milo looked up, he recognized the guy from the

Laundromat. The stranger reached down and grabbed Milo, helping
him to his feet.

“I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” Milo said before

he side stepped around the man. “Sorry.”

“No harm done.” The man gave him a soft smile before he turned

and headed down the street.

Milo stood there for a moment and watched the stranger. An odd,

foreboding feeling rolled through him. His brow crinkled at the
thought before Milo went to his car.

He soon forgot about the stranger when he saw a slip of paper

tucked under his wiper. Tugging it free, Milo smiled when he saw that
it was from Bryson.

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39

Had a wonderful time with you the other day. Would love to show

you the ranch sometime. How about tonight around seven? Clayton
said you had the night off.

He did. Milo tucked the note into his pocket before he checked his

watch. He had two hours before Bryson would look for him.

He needed to get home and shower.
Milo went home and tidied up before jumping into the shower. He

picked out something casual to wear—simple jeans and a polo shirt.
He shoved his feet into a pair of comfortable boat shoes before
looking himself over.

Grabbing the goop from this dresser, Milo spread a generous

amount into his hair, making the strands spike out. He winked at
himself before grabbing his keys and driving to the Triple-B ranch.

This was his first time seeing the place, although he’d heard a lot

about it at work. The spread was magnificent. Milo’s eyes bounced
everywhere as he drove down the long, winding driveway.

Quinn’s house was twice this size and resembled a mansion, but it

didn’t look warm and inviting like Bryson’s home did.

Even before he drew close, Milo could tell there was a lot of love

in this house. So many trucks were parked on the side that it looked
like a car lot. There was a large swing set barely noticeable in the
backyard. He even spotted a tire hanging from a tree.

Horses grazed in the field, penned in with a white fence. The

white Victorian house felt like the sort of home that belonged in Gone
with the Wind
. There were shutters and a large, wraparound porch,
swing included.

Milo parked behind Bryson’s blue truck before he got out. The

scent of horses and hay filled his lungs as he glanced toward a large
stable.

He knew this ranch was used for horse breeding. But he spotted

some cattle off in the distance and wondered if they belonged to the
Triple-B.

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Lynn Hagen

“You made it,” Bryson said as he stepped out onto the porch.

Milo’s breath caught at how marvelous the man looked. Bryson was
wearing a pair of cutoff jeans that stopped at the knees and nothing
more.

His chest and arms ripple with muscles, and Milo gazed over the

dips and curves that traversed Bryson’s taut skin. He had the body of
a warrior. There wasn’t an inch of spare flesh on him. Every part
bulged with muscles, and his skin was a study in fascinating contours.

“Let me show you around.” Bryson came off the porch wearing a

pair of flip-flops on his large feet. Oddly enough, Bryson looked good
in plain shorts and flip-flops.

Milo had never paid attention to feet before, but found himself

gazing down at Bryson’s toes.

They were…sexy.
They toured the outside first, Bryson showing him the backyard

where there were plenty of toys scattered about. Past the swing set,
there were fenced-in corrals that housed more horses and a large
forest behind that.

Milo had never ridden a horse before and hoped that one day

Bryson would show him how.

Next he was led to the stables. The building was large and had at

least a dozen and a half stalls. All were empty except for the one that
seemed to be set apart from the rest.

Inside was a large black stallion. The beast stood so tall that Milo

felt like a dwarf. The floors were strewn with hay and there was a
room in the back, behind the lone stallion.

“Who is he?” Milo asked, pointing to the horse. The horse turned

and looked at him, as if he knew Milo was talking about him.

“That’s Braveheart,” Bryson replied. “He’s one of our prized stud

horses.”

“Why isn’t he out grazing with the other horses?”

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41

Bryson chuckled. “Because he’s ornery as hell and if we let him

out with the mares, all hell would break lose. They’d be knocked up
in no time.”

Milo frowned. “But isn’t that the goal? I mean, you do run a stud

ranch.”

Bryson walked him to the back of the stable and Milo spotted a

small office. Bryson held the door for Milo to walk through.
“Braveheart’s sperm is extremely valuable. He’s only used for top-
notch breeding.”

A chuckle slipped from between Milo’s lips. “So you say who

he…mounts.”

“Our studs are dedicated to producing thoroughbreds.”
“Race horses?” Milo asked.
“Great money in that,” Bryson admitted. “But we’ve also invested

a lot of our own dough into the business. Some customers, but not a
lot, bring their horses here and leave them to insure pregnancy. But
we also use artificial insemination, ship semen, and have the sperm’s
DNA tested for parentage verification so the buyer has documentation
that they are getting what they paid for.”

Milo shook his head. “I never knew so much went into this

business. I just thought you let nature take its course and got paid
because the horse was a good one.”

Bryson leaned against the desk and folded his arms in front of

him. Milo stole glances at the man’s impressive physique. “I’m what
you would call a stud master. I’m responsible for putting together
desired matings and arranging the shipment of the semen. Harland
handles the books. Jed is responsible for purchasing top-notch stud
horses and Clayton handles permits, requests, and the DNA testing.”

“It sounds like a well-oiled machine around here.”
Milo sucked in his lower lip, chewing on it when Bryson reached

out and pulled him close. He situated Milo between his large thighs
and stroked his hands down Milo’s back.

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Lynn Hagen

“Speaking of desired mating,” Bryson whispered huskily into

Milo’s ear. Milo emitted a shaky laugh that was soon swallowed by
Bryson’s lips. The man’s soft lips were in contrast to his hard body.
Milo placed his hands on Bryson’s bare chest, running his fingers
over the hard pecs.

A shudder rolled through him as Bryson pulled Milo impossibly

closer. They melded together and Milo wished he was bare chested as
well. He would love to know what it felt like to be skin to skin with
Bryson.

As he’d done a few days ago, Milo pulled back. He had to. He

couldn’t risk getting involved with anyone, yet he couldn’t stop
himself from wanting to be around the cowboy.

Bryson tucked a finger under Milo’s chin, lifting his head until

they were staring at one another. “What is it?” Concern bled into the
man’s voice.

“Can we just enjoy today?” Milo asked, almost an entreaty,

expelled on a long breath. He ached to be closer to Bryson. Milo
would give anything to know what it was like to sleep with the man.

But he was terrified his father would find out and make Bryson

pay for being with Milo. He wouldn’t put it past Quinn to stoop that
low in his need to punish Milo.

Bryson nodded. “We can do whatever you want,” he said in an

understanding, if not gentle tone. “There’s no pressure, no rush.”

Bryson’s sweet words only endeared the man to Milo.
“Thank you,” Milo said wistfully. He was ready to throw caution

to the wind and give Bryson what he knew the man wanted.

But Milo held back.
He had to.
It wasn’t a question of if Quinn found him, but when.

* * * *

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Bryson grabbed Milo by the hand and led him from the office.

There was something going on with the guy. Milo was a little too
skittish. One minute he was hot enough to roast Bryson and the next
he was as could as February.

The mixed signals were giving him a headache.
Jed walked into the stable, paperwork in his hands. He glanced at

Bryson and then Milo. “Am I interrupting?”

“Have you met the new waiter?” Bryson asked Jed.
Jed shook his head, giving Milo an easy smile. “Name’s Jed

Gibbs.”

“Milo McNeal.” Milo gave Jed a handshake before turning to

Bryson. “Am I keeping you from your work?”

Jed clapped Bryson on the back. “Nope. Bryson is free for the

day. You two enjoy yourself.”

When they stepped from the barn, he spotted Sparrow heading

their way.

“I didn’t put a scratch on your bike,” Bryson said when he saw the

concentrated expression on the sheriff’s face.

“It’s not you I want to talk to,” he said and then glanced at Milo.
“What did I do?” Milo asked. Sparrow was in full uniform. He

had even driven here in his patrol car. That was never a good sign.

Bryson slipped his arm over Milo’s shoulder. The gesture was to

give Milo support for whatever Sparrow had to say, but it was also his
bear being protective. The scent Milo carried hadn’t dissipated. If
anything, it had grown stronger.

But now the fragrance was tinged with trepidation, and that put

Bryson on the defensive. To his satisfaction, Milo didn’t move from
under Bryson’s arm. As a matter of fact, the guy scooted a little
closer. He tucked himself into the curve of Bryson’s body as the two
stood there.

“You didn’t do anything,” Sparrow said as he scratched at his

head under the brim of his hat. “I heard some interesting things from a
friend of mine.”

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Lynn Hagen

“Oh?” Milo said.
Bryson felt the man stiffen next to him. Milo shifted from one foot

to the other. Although they’d just met not too long ago, Bryson
wished Milo would tell him what he was hiding. He’d help the guy
any way he could.

He slid his fingers up Milo’s shoulder and around to the slender

column of the man’s neck. His fingers brushed over the soft skin,
letting Milo know that he was there for him.

Sparrow eyed what Bryson was doing but didn’t comment on it.

“Your father is Quinn McNeal,” Sparrow stated bluntly.

It was Bryson’s turn to stiffen. He knew that name. It was as well

known as the founder of Apple or Johnson & Johnson. Quinn McNeal
was a force to be reckoned with and from what Bryson had seen here
and there when he watched television, the guy wasn’t nice.

Bryson had seen McNeal a handful of times on CNN and

MSNBC, giving interviews or being discussed in news reports. He
never smiled, and a few times the guy had snapped at the person he
was speaking with. His eyes had said it all. They were as cold as a
frozen lake.

Milo pulled away from Bryson, running a hand over his head.

“Did he pay you to come get me?”

“Why would he do that?” Sparrow asked. “What’s going on,

Milo?”

Bryson wanted to know as well.
But instead of answering, Milo headed toward his car.
“Where are you going?” Bryson asked.
“To another town,” the man answered solemnly.
Sparrow and Bryson glanced at each other before Bryson strode to

where Milo was digging his keys out of his pocket.

“Talk to me.”
“Why?” Milo asked and Bryson could see the sheen of tears in his

gorgeous green eyes. “It won’t make a difference. I’ll never be free
from him.”

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Sparrow joined them and asked, “Why are you running, Milo?”
Milo kicked a tire on his car and cursed up a storm. Bryson and

Sparrow didn’t say anything as the man pounded the palm of his hand
against the driver’s window.

“You might think I had it made living with Quinn. But you’d be

wrong,” Milo said as his fingers curled into fists. “He wants to run
every single aspect of my life, including who I should marry.”

A growl ripped from Bryson’s throat before he could stop it. Milo

glanced at him and then looked toward the horizon. “I just want a
simple life. Is that too much to ask?”

“Not at all,” Bryson replied. He stepped to Milo and pulled the

man into his arms. “Is that why you keep pushing me away?”

Sparrow cleared his throat. “Since you’re not in any immediate

danger, we’ll talk later.”

Bryson nodded his thanks as the sheriff got into his car and took

off.

Milo put his hands on Bryson’s chest, creating a barrier between

them as he tried to push Bryson away. “He’ll destroy you if he finds
out how much I like you.”

“Let me worry about me.” Bryson gently knocked Milo’s hands

away. “And now that I know the reason…” He dipped his head,
capturing Milo’s lips.

God, he could kiss the man all day. Milo tasted so damn good.
Milo moaned as he cupped Bryson’s face and pulled him closer.

Their teeth clashed and their tongues dueled before Bryson had to
come up for air.

“I can’t let him hurt you,” Milo said. “He wants me to marry some

insufferable jerk and won’t let anything or anyone stop him from
getting what he wants.”

“Then marry me.” Bryson made the offer before he even knew the

thought was in his head.

Milo’s eyes widened as his lips parted.

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Lynn Hagen

Bryson mulled the idea over and it sounded right to him. “He

can’t make you marry anyone if you’re already married.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Milo said. “Thank you, though.”
“Bullshit,” Bryson replied as he leaned an arm over the roof of

Milo’s car, tangling their fingers together. “It’s the perfect solution.”

“But we wouldn’t be marrying for the right reasons,” Milo said as

he pulled his hand away and turned, giving Bryson his back. “I won’t
let you get involved in this. I’ll just leave, start over where he can’t
find me.”

“So that’s your solution?” Bryson asked. “To keep running?” He

sighed. “You can’t live like that.”

“Watch me.” Milo grabbed the handle of the car door, but Bryson

refused to budge. He wasn’t going to let Milo run for the rest of his
life. That was insane. Sooner or later Quinn McNeal would catch up
to the guy.

Besides, his bear was protesting the idea of Milo leaving town.

Bryson was against the idea as well.

“Either you marry me or I’ll follow you to every damn town you

run to,” Bryson threatened.

Milo lifted his hands to shove at Bryson, but Bryson caught the

guy’s hands and held them over his heart. “I’m serious.”

“Are you always this pushy?” Milo asked.
He could feel Milo trembling as the man stood there. An odd

sensation ran up Bryson’s spine, spreading in a warm glow that made
his muscles tighten.

They were going to get married.
He just knew it. Milo’s resolve was crumbling and Bryson was

going to race the man to the courthouse.

“What if—”
“No,” Bryson said. “Don’t think about it. Let’s just do this.”
This”—Milo released an unsteady breath as he shook his head—

“is insane.”

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47

Bryson winked at the man. “But you’re paying for the

honeymoon.”

Milo snatched his hands away and slapped Bryson on the chest.

Bryson chuckled as he grabbed Milo into a tight hug, resting his
cheek on the fiery red hair. “It will work. You’ll see.”

Milo let go of a contented sigh. The sound vibrated all the way to

Bryson’s soul.

“I hope you’re right,” Milo grumbled into Bryson’s chest.

“Because if Quinn finds me, not even a marriage license is going to
stop him from getting what he wants.”

Bryson begged to differ.
If Quinn came anywhere near Milo, the human was going to have

one angry-ass bear to contend with.

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Lynn Hagen





Chapter Five


As Milo stood there enveloped in Bryson’s arms, he prayed the

man was right. The plan was so crazy that it just might work. He
didn’t understand why Bryson would do something so selfless. They
barely knew each other and the guy was willing to marry Milo to help
him.

Who did things like that?
The screen door slammed open. Milo glanced up to see Clayton

and Harland walking outside. Jed came from around the house,
heading his way.

“I hear you might have trouble heading your way,” Harland said.
“Fuck trouble,” Clayton said, his jaw tight. “I say we eat his ass

and solve the problem.”

“Eat him?” Milo asked. What on earth was Clayton talking about?

He knew his boss had a few screws loose. Clayton Calabria was
very…unique. But he hadn’t thought the guy was nuttier than a
squirrel.

Milo repeated what he’d told Bryson and Sparrow. He left out the

part about Bryson proposing to him. It was a strange sensation to
confide in these men. All four of them towered over Milo, making his
palms sweat. They looked as if they could each bench-press a car,
whereas Milo struggled when he tried to carry too many grocery bags
into the house at once.

Jed glanced at the house. “We need to form some kind of plan,”

he said. “We have a lot of babies to consider.” He turned back around
and looked between Milo and Bryson. “Besides, I’m pretty sure one
person in particular is willing to defend Milo to the bitter end.”

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“That would be all of us,” Clayton said. “No one messes with the

men of the Triple-B.”

Why did Milo get the distinct impression that Jed was hinting at

something? He’d heard Clayton and Harland talking at the bar and
knew all four men had served in the military. That would be a bonus
if a war broke out. Unfortunately, right now, it was just his life going
downhill.

“I already came up with a solution,” Bryson said. Milo moved

closer, unsure how Bryson’s friends would react to what was already
planned.

He didn’t want any of them to think he was using Bryson—

because he wasn’t. It had been Bryson who offered to marry Milo.

So none of these guys should be pissed at him.
“And what is your plan?” Jed asked.
Bryson had perfect timing. Milo was nervous, and his knees were

growing weak when Bryson’s hands—he had such wonderful, strong
hands—came to rest on Milo’s shoulders, giving them a gentle
squeeze.

But having Bryson stand behind him meant that Milo had to stand

in front, exposed to these men. He felt too damn vulnerable when
Bryson stated, “Milo and I are getting married.”

Clayton’s eye twitched.
Harland coughed but it sounded more like the man was choking.
Jed’s features turned inscrutable. The easy smile the man had

offered him in the stable was gone.

The silence was deafening.
“Don’t talk all at once,” Bryson snapped.
It was Harland who spoke first. “Look. I know it’s hard on you

sometimes to see us with our—”

“I can’t believe you’re going there,” Bryson barked. “Seriously?

You think I want to marry Milo because I’m the last to mate?”

Milo was confused.

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Lynn Hagen

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” Clayton chimed in. “We want you

to be happy, Bryson. But this isn’t the way—”

“Screw all of you.” Bryson’s fingers slipped from Milo’s neck,

taking the warmth with them. “If you think that is why I’m doing this,
then none of you know me too well.”

The pain was evident in Bryson’s voice and Milo felt a need to

hurt the men who were hurting Bryson. The impulse was so fierce that
he trembled with rage.

Milo jerked in surprise when Bryson grabbed his hand and yanked

him toward the man’s truck. He didn’t argue. Milo wanted out of
here. He hurried along next to the big guy, thankful they were leaving.

“Bryson, wait,” Clayton called out but Bryson ignored the guy. He

slipped into the driver’s seat. Milo scrambled to get into the passenger
side because Bryson had the truck started and was pulling away even
before Milo had his door closed.

“Those rotten sons of bitches,” Bryson cursed, his anger arcing in

the air around them. “I can’t believe they had the audacity to stand
there and say shit like that.”

Milo kept quiet. Bryson was furious and a very big man. Milo

didn’t know the cowboy all that well, and he wasn’t taking any
chances. He might be ticked off at Harland and Clayton, but his ire
paled in comparison to Bryson’s seething anger.

Bryson gripped the steering wheel so tightly the blood left his

knuckles. “They can shove their pity up their collective asses.”

Milo snapped his seat belt into place. “What about my car?”
“We’ll go back and get it when I lose the urge to strangle those

guys.”

As he sat there, Milo rubbed his hands down his thighs, trying to

rid his palms of their moisture. “Were you serious about getting
married?”

Bryson glanced at him, his deep-grey eyes blazing. Maybe Milo

would just sit there and play mute.

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“Yes.” Bryson let go of a long breath. “And please don’t think I’m

mad at you.”

“Why are you mad at them?” Milo asked. “They’re your friends

and they’re just worried about you from what I could see. Their
protests were justifiable. You just told them that you were marrying
someone you hardly know.”

“That’s not it,” Bryson said, but he didn’t elaborate, so Milo left it

alone for now. Maybe they would discuss things when the man cooled
down.

As they passed the trailer park, Milo asked, “Where are we

going?”

A deep blush washed over Bryson’s cheeks and the shy man Milo

remembered returned. This was the Bryson Milo had found himself
falling for. He knew that Bryson could be hard as nails when he
needed to be, but it was the softer, more playful side that Milo loved
being around.

“We’re going to get married.”
Milo gaped at Bryson. “Now, right this second?”
The man’s wide shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Why not? I have a

friend who will hitch us with no questions asked.”

Even though Milo knew why they were doing this, the thought of

marrying Bryson had his head spinning as he panted out small gasps
of breath.

Playing at being Bryson’s husband wasn’t a hardship. The man

was everything Milo liked in a guy.

But for Milo, marriage was a big step, a huge commitment—one

he wasn’t sure he was ready for. This wasn’t a real marriage, though.
It was a way to keep Quinn from forcing Milo to marry Drake.

With that knowledge, the need to full-out panic subsided. It was

just a harmless piece of paper, right?

* * * *

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Lynn Hagen

It was eight in the morning before Bryson reached his

destination—a jewelry store close to the chapel he was taking Milo to.
Milo was passed out next to him, splayed out like he’d been ridden
hard and hung up to dry. The guy was even slightly drooling.

Bryson cut the motor and just sat there, staring down at the

human. It amazed him that he’d gone from being afraid of asking
Milo out to buying wedding bands, all in under a week.

Things were moving so fast his head spun.
But his bear told him that Milo was his mate. Bryson just hoped

like hell the creature knew what it was talking about.

Milo roused, his eyelids fluttering open as he yawned and

stretched. “Why did we stop?” He moved his mouth around as if he
had hair on his tongue before wiping the drool away.

“We landed on Mars,” Bryson teased, smiling at how unkempt

Milo appeared. Was this how the guy looked in the morning?

Milo sat up and peeked out of the window. He frowned. “Where

exactly are we?”

The owner of the store pulled into the driveway and then got out,

locking his car before heading to the door.

“We can’t exactly get married without rings.” Bryson had been

staring at his left hand for an hour before Milo woke up. He had tried
to imagine what it would look like decorated with a wedding band.

Doubt had also started to creep into his mind through the night.

He’d been so gung-ho on making sure Milo’s father couldn’t force the
guy into an arranged marriage that he really hadn’t thought this
through.

Was this what people called cold feet? Bryson considered himself

a nice guy, but he was hardly a sap or a pushover. He needed to be
sure he wasn’t doing this out of naïve romanticism.

His entire adult life Bryson had been in love with the idea of

marriage. He just hadn’t inserted a groom anywhere in those
fantasies.

Until now.

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He had to admit that the allure of finally living out his dream was

part of the reason he’d been quick to suggest this plan. But was he
doing this for Milo or because he wanted to be married, to have
someone to come home to? How far off the mark were his friends?
Was he so stubborn that he hadn’t seen that they’d been right about
his jealously toward them?

Bryson had asked himself these questions the entire ride here and

he still didn’t have an answer. Maybe he was looking too deeply into
this. How hard could it be to pretend he was Milo’s husband?

“Why do you look like your life is about to end?” Milo asked

sullenly. “I told you, we don’t have to do this.”

And that was why he had to. Milo wasn’t twisting Bryson’s arm.

The man wasn’t begging for Bryson to help him. The human was
protesting just as much as Bryson’s brain was.

He was seven kinds of confused.
Milo’s lips twisted as if gathering his defenses. “Just take me

home. I have to check on Elyse. She could go into labor any day now
and I want to be there for her.”

“No,” Bryson said. “We’re good.”
“No,” Milo answered. “We’re not. You don’t want to do this. I

can see it in your eyes. God, please don’t make this harder than it
already is. Just take me home.”

Why on earth was Bryson feeling guilty? It was as if he’d just let

Milo down. What little headway he’d made with the guy shattered, a
chasm growing between them.

“Look, Milo.” Bryson sighed, pulling himself together. “This isn’t

about us deciding to spend the rest of our lives with each other.” The
part of Bryson who wanted someone special in his life yearned for
this to be so much more. “We’re doing this to protect you from your
father. Friends help each other out, right?”

Milo hesitated. “I don’t want to be a burden. I know what it’s like

to live a life you really don’t want to. I can’t do that to you.”

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Lynn Hagen

Bryson was tired of analyzing this. If he was going to marry Milo,

he better do it while he still had the nerve. He got out of the truck,
heading toward the door of the jewelry store. When Milo just sat
there, Bryson said, “You coming?”

Despite his trepidation, he smiled when Milo got out of the truck.

Things were going to work out. They both knew what they were
getting into.

* * * *


Despite his resolve to go through with this, Milo was a quivering

mess. He had fought the idea of marriage when Quinn had told him he
was marrying Drake.

Now here he stood in this small chapel with only three pews and a

tiny raised dais, saying his vows with Bryson. How had his life taken
such a drastic turn? Milo wasn’t sure about anything, least of all
marriage.

But he sucked it up and smiled when the plump preacher who

sweated an awful lot and had a bit of a stutter told them they could
kiss. Milo had tasted Bryson before. They had shared a moment like
this twice, but he wasn’t prepared for the raw, aching need that swept
over him when Bryson’s mouth descended upon his. The passion that
filled the kiss had Milo’s head spinning.

Bryson cupped the back of his head, tilting Milo back as his

tongue swept into Milo’s mouth, claiming him, stamping ownership
all over Milo.

That was what it felt like.
The man even growled a little as he molested Milo’s lips right

there in front of the preacher. But Milo was so caught up in Bryson
that he didn’t really care. He hadn’t expected to feel so many
emotions. This was just a scam, a con to keep Quinn at bay.

So why did Milo feel like it was so much more?

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When the two came up for air, Milo was panting, his cock hard.

He was embarrassed as hell that the preacher was standing there. It
felt a bit sinful to have so much lust coursing through him when a
man of the cloth was present.

“I hope you two have a happy and wonderful life,” the preacher

said.

Milo cleared his throat, giving the man an awkward smile as

Bryson shook the guy’s hand. He felt like a fake, a phony, someone
who didn’t deserve to have any good fortune. He’d fooled a preacher.

How low had he sunk?
“Ready?” Bryson asked.
The ring on Milo’s finger felt like it weighed a ton as he nodded

and walked out of the small chapel with his husband.

His husband.
Milo was going to be sick.
Not because he’d married Bryson. The man was amazing for

doing this. No, Milo was going to be sick because he’d just pulled an
innocent man into his twisted life. Now Bryson was going to be a
target for Quinn.

How could he have done something like this to the sweet cowboy?
“Are you okay?” Bryson led Milo to the truck, opening the

passenger door for him. “You look a bit ill.”

“I think it was the burritos we ate.” Now he was lying to the man.

Great. “I’ll be fine.”

To his chagrin, Bryson was beaming. Why was he beaming? This

was a fake marriage, yet Bryson looked as happy as a puppy with a
new toy.

“You know,” Bryson said as he got in and started the motor. “In

order to keep up the pretense, you might want to consider moving into
the Triple-B ranch.”

Milo stiffened as his insides froze. He liked his independence. He

liked having a place of his own where he could do what he wanted

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when he wanted. He’d finally gotten out from under Quinn. Milo
wasn’t ready to give up his freedom just yet. “I’ll think about it.”

He had lived on his own before moving to Bear County, but

Quinn had still been a constant in his life. But now that his father
wasn’t near him, Milo finally knew what it was like to be free.

Only he had just gotten married.
Milo stared out of the window as Bryson drove them back to Bear

County. The silence between them was deafening. He didn’t know
what to say. “Thanks for marrying me. I owe you one” didn’t sound
right even in his own mind.

So he sat there in silence as the miles ticked by.
When Bryson finally pulled up in front of Milo’s home, Milo

couldn’t get out of the truck fast enough. He felt like a genuine jerk
for ditching the man, but he hadn’t been able to breathe since they’d
gotten hitched. “I’ll see you later.”

Bryson nodded before he took off.
Milo just stood there, watching as the cowboy drove away. He

wasn’t sure why, but disappointment filled him. What had he
expected? The marriage wasn’t real so there wouldn’t be a
honeymoon, no sex, and no hot passion shared between them.

His shoulders slumped as he walked inside and set his keys on the

counter. His home felt cold, desolate. Milo tried to shake off the
emptiness that lodged inside of him, but it did no good.

He missed Bryson already.
Elyse meowed, brushing herself around Milo’s leg. He sank to the

floor and pulled her into his lap, hugging the cat close. “What have I
done, Elyse?”

The cat didn’t reply and Milo hadn’t expected her to. She just

cocked her head to the side, as if listening to what he had to say was
important. Milo leaned his back into the island, looking up toward the
ceiling as a lone tear streaked down his face.

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All he’d wanted was to get away from Quinn, but it seemed like

his life just continued to go downhill. He’d run from one mess only to
create another.

“Do you think he hates me now?” he asked the cat lounging on his

lap. “He has to. I’ve tied him down and I don’t even know him.”

Then an idea struck Milo. This didn’t have to be a disaster. He

could get to know Bryson. If nothing else, they could become really
good friends. Milo didn’t want any hard feelings between them, and
he wanted to let Bryson know that as soon as Quinn realized he
couldn’t make Milo marry Drake, then the two could get an
annulment.

Placing the cat on her feet, Milo got up and grabbed his keys,

ready to go tell Bryson that he wanted things to work out, when he
realized that he didn’t have his car.

It was at the ranch.
Milo grabbed his phone, then it dawned on him that he didn’t have

Bryson’s phone number.

Oh, this was working out real peachy.
He called the bar instead.
“Ugly Broad Saloon,” Clayton answered.
“Hey, Clayton. I was wondering—”
“You!” Clayton said into the phone. “What in the hell were you

two thinking? You don’t even know each other.”

Milo was stunned at the venom in Clayton’s tone. “I just need my

car.” His tone was less than friendly, but Milo wasn’t about to
apologize.

“Walk and get it.” Clayton hung up.
Milo stared at his phone as if he’d just talked to a dead loved one.

Shock filled him and he wasn’t sure what to do. Why on earth was
Clayton so upset?

He knew the man had been looking out for Bryson when he

protested their plan. But he didn’t know Clayton would be this pissed.

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Setting his phone aside, Milo knew he was going to have to walk

to the ranch. That was something he wasn’t looking forward to.

He closed his door and headed down his steps when he spotted the

guy from the Laundromat. The man was standing outside one of the
homes, watering his flowers.

The guy waved and smiled.
Taking in a deep breath, Milo crossed the small road. “Hey, I’m

Milo.” He stuck out his hand.

“Kaylem,” the guy said.
“I was wondering if you could give me a ride somewhere.” Milo

hated to ask, but he needed his car and the ranch was too damn far to
hoof it.

Kaylem glanced over Milo’s shoulder and frowned. “I’d ask if

you were having car trouble, but your car seems to be missing.”

“I left it at the Triple-B ranch. I just need a ride to go get it.”
Turning his hose off, Kaylem tossed it aside. “No problem.”
Milo was relieved. “Thanks.”
They drove to Bryson’s, Kaylem hardly saying a word. Milo

didn’t press the man to talk. He was lost in his own thoughts.

When his neighbor pulled into the ranch, Milo spotted Bryson

outside. He appeared to be arguing with Harland.

“Looks heated,” Kaylem said.
Milo didn’t answer. He had a pretty good idea what the argument

was about.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said as he got out.
Bryson glanced his way, his face a mask of rage. Milo hesitated

and then squared his shoulders. He didn’t know why Bryson was
looking at him that way, but he’d come here to get his car. His
decision to be the man’s friend would have to wait.

He walked over to his car and unlocked it, sliding into the driver’s

side.

“That’s it?” Bryson asked as he approached. “You’re just going to

get into your car and drive off?”

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The man’s tone was pleasant, playful even. The rage was gone,

replaced by a smile.

What in the hell had he gotten himself into?

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Chapter Six


Bryson pulled Milo out of his car. He wasn’t going to ask who the

hell that stranger was giving Milo a ride. Bryson remembered the man
from the Laundromat, though.

Were he and Milo lovers?
His bear growled at the thought, demanding that Bryson fuck

Milo, claim him, stamp his ownership all over the human.

But Bryson was a tad more civilized than that. “Dinner is ready.

How about you join me?”

Milo glanced warily at the house. “I’m not sure I’m welcome

here.”

The guy must have seen Bryson and Harland arguing. Bryson

didn’t care if his friends were up in arms because he had run off and
gotten married.

Renee was miffed at him for not inviting her along, but his friends

were all kinds of pissed. They’d get over it.

“Nah, you’re welcome here anytime.” Bryson put his arm around

Milo’s shoulders and led him inside. As soon as they walked through
the door, Renee pulled Milo into her arms.

“Welcome to the family,” she said before kissing him on the

cheek. Dresden, Noah, and Josh welcomed Milo as well. Bryson
glared at Harland and Jed. If Clayton were home, Bryson was sure
he’d be glaring at him as well.

Jed grunted and then extended a hand. “Welcome,” he said.
Harland stared daggers at Bryson, but welcomed Milo as well.

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“Another addition,” Jack said as he patted Milo on the back.

“Gonna add to our collection of kids? Pop one out soon so they can
all grow up together. Christmas is gonna break my bank.”

Milo shook his head slightly, a look of puzzlement on his face.
And then the kids descended on Milo, all of them wanting to

know who he was and why they had another uncle. He was a bit
worried Tyler or one of the others would shift. Even so, if that
happened, Bryson would explain things to Milo.

Bryson chuckled as Milo dropped to the floor and began to talk

with them.

The man looked right at home. It made Bryson’s chest ache to

know that Milo was and wasn’t his husband. He wanted this marriage
to be real. He’d straddled the fence since driving to the jewelry store
and even when they’d said their vows.

But now that he was watching Milo with the kids, his heart told

him that Milo was the one for him. His bear was still telling him that
Milo was his mate.

Dropping the guy off and driving away had been the hardest thing

Bryson had ever had to do.

“Time for supper,” Renee announced.
Bryson reached down and pulled Milo to his feet, keeping their

hands locked together as he led the man to the table.

Dinner went off without a hitch. Thankfully Harland and Jed

hadn’t said anything out of the way to Milo. He knew they were
worried that Quinn would come after him, but Bryson wasn’t.

Let the bastard try.
He knew Quinn had financial resources that Bryson would never

have. But Bryson had claws and he protected what was his.

And Milo was his.
“How do you like living in Bear County?” Renee asked as she

passed Milo the bowl of sweet peas.

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“It’s far different than where I grew up,” Milo answered,

accepting the bowl. “People here aren’t as hung up on themselves as
they are in California. Though I do miss the ocean.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Renee confessed.
“No?” Milo seemed surprised. “You’re missing out on something

spectacular. The salty ocean air smells amazing.”

So did Milo. Bryson sat there inhaling honey-roasted walnuts and

licorice. A low growl rumbled in his chest and Bryson wanted to grab
Milo from the table and whisk him upstairs.

Harland arched a brow at the low noise Bryson was making.
“Maybe I’ll take a trip there soon,” Renee replied before she

glanced over at Jack and blushed.

Sparrow walked in, still in uniform. He kissed Josh on the cheek

before taking a seat. Milo glanced at the sheriff and then down at his
plate.

Bryson knew Milo was wondering if the sheriff had called Quinn

McNeal. But Bryson also knew Sparrow wouldn’t do something like
that. He was just as fierce about family as Bryson was. Sparrow
wouldn’t hand Milo over, even if Quinn was offering a reward.

The conversation took off, everyone talking at once. Bryson sat

back, his arm over the back of Milo’s chair. He smiled to himself and
pretended that their marriage wasn’t a sham when Milo and Dresden
got into a comical conversation about children.

The guy really did fit in here.
After dinner, Bryson watched as Jed led his family outside for

their evening walk. Harland and Dresden took their sons into the
living room to watch something on the television.

Josh and Sparrow went upstairs with their son, Kane.
As usual, Jack and Renee wandered into the kitchen together.
Bryson was left alone with Milo.
“I had a great time,” Milo confessed. “Thanks for inviting me to

dinner.”

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“It could be like this all the time. Just because things are moving a

bit fast doesn’t mean we can’t slow down and get to know each
other.”

Milo nodded. “I was thinking the same thing before I came here.

If nothing else, we can become good friends.”

Bryson’s chuckle was low and deep as he leaned over and nipped

Milo on his ear. “Oh, honey, friendship is very good, but I want
something more.”

He could see Milo swallow as his hands nervously fluttered to his

lap. “More?”

Sliding his arm around Milo’s slim shoulders, Bryson pulled the

man closer. He still wasn’t sure about anything, but the one thing he
was confident about was the fact that he didn’t want to let Milo go.
Seeing Milo ride here with another man had just about torn Bryson
apart. He had been ready to snap the stranger’s neck.

That told him that he was falling for Milo. Jealousy was never his

thing. When it reared its ugly head, Bryson had his answer.

Whether Milo was his mate or not, Bryson was keeping him.
“Yes, hon, more.” Bryson pulled his chair back and pulled at Milo

until the man was straddling his lap. “Much better.”

“Should we be doing this in the dining room?” Milo glanced

around as if someone were going to walk in at any second.

“I like how you think.” Bryson stood, placing Milo on his feet.

“The bedroom would be much better.”

Milo pulled at Bryson’s hand. “That’s not what I meant.”
“But we’re married,” Bryson pointed out. “I think it’s okay if we

sleep together.”

Milo’s brows pulled together and then he began to laugh. “You

had me going for a second there.”

Bryson wasn’t sure what to say or do. Milo thought he was joking.

He wasn’t.

He backed Milo up until there was nowhere for the man to go.

Milo’s back pressed into the wall as Bryson placed a hand on each

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side of the human’s head. He dipped his head, kissing Milo with all
the pent-up emotions that were swirling inside of him.

Milo groaned into his mouth, slipping his hands around Bryson’s

neck, pulling Bryson closer. He could see now that with Milo, Bryson
had to act, not talk. He would have to show Milo exactly what he
wanted.

There was no denying there was something between them. Bryson

could feel it, even if he had doubted what they were getting
themselves into. There was a small bond growing.

Milo hitched a leg onto Bryson’s waist, grinding himself into

Bryson. This only made Bryson hotter. He wanted Milo. He wanted to
see the man naked, thrashing underneath him as Bryson took him.

Without breaking the kiss, Bryson grabbed Milo and lifted the

man until Milo could do nothing more than wrap his legs around
Bryson’s waist.

He walked out of the dining room and raced upstairs before Milo

realized what he was doing. Bryson kicked the door closed behind
him and then went directly to the bed, laying Milo out. He climbed
over the man, deepening the kiss.

When he finally pulled back, Milo’s eyes were glazed. “I want

you, Milo.”

Bryson had never wanted anyone this much in his life. With a

groan, he pulled closer until their chests crushed together. His hands
slid up Milo’s arms and then up his neck until he cupped Milo’s face.
“God, you smell so damn good.”

Then he lowered his mouth once again. Just before their lips

touched, he heard a swift intake of breath. Kissing Milo was the most
pleasurable sensation he’d ever felt—aside from the man’s body
pressed against his.

Bryson groaned when Milo brushed his tongue across his and then

sighed as Bryson tenderly probed Milo’s mouth. Milo’s eyes were
dreamy when he pulled his head back and whispered, “Make love to
me.”

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Fire blazed inside Bryson as he reached between them and

unsnapped Milo’s pants. He hated to break their connection, but he
needed room to undress the man. Bryson stood there for a moment,
gazing down at Milo.

The man was stunning.
His red hair stood out in contrast to Bryson’s cream-colored

blanket. He looked like a siren, calling Bryson to him.

His hands trembled when he reached for the waistband of Milo’s

pants, anticipating how his soon-to-be lover would look without a
stitch of clothing on.

He had his answer soon enough. Once he undressed Milo, Bryson

gazed at the man’s pale flesh. His nostrils flared with the effort of his
breathing.

“Don’t just stand there.” Milo smiled up at him. “Do something.”
A flicker of recollection shot through Bryson’s mind, but it

flashed by too quickly for him to grasp it. He was supposed to warn
Milo about something, he just couldn’t remember what as he gazed at
perfection.

He shoved his own pants down his legs, baring himself. Milo’s

green eyes filled with heat as Bryson’s erection sprang free.

Milo twisted on the bed and then crawled over to where Bryson

was standing, taking Bryson’s cock into his mouth. He hissed, his legs
shaking as he stood there while Milo swallowed him.

Using the only brain cell that was currently working, Bryson

pulled his shirt free and tossed it aside before he grabbed a handful of
Milo’s hair, thrusting in short bursts. Fiery hot pleasure raced through
his veins. He hissed and groaned as Milo licked and sucked his
throbbing erection.

Milo’s mouth was heaven.
Bryson’s eyes dropped to the man’s ass and he felt his cock

growing harder. The pale globes were perfectly rounded, waiting for
Bryson to tease and lick them.

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His canines began to lengthen and he felt his eyes shifting to bear.

His fingers tightened in Milo’s hair. A throaty moan that was more
like a growl ripped from his throat. Bryson watched his cock slip in
and out of Milo’s mouth. His balls drew up tight as his body began to
quiver.

Milo grabbed Bryson’s cock, sliding it from his mouth before

using his lips to suck from base to tip, and then he swallowed it again.

His teeth gnashed together as an electrical storm shot up his spine.

Bryson shouted as his climax crested and then tore him apart.

He came down Milo’s throat as he jerked his hips, his fingers

strangling the man’s hair.

Milo pulled back, licking his lips as he smiled up at Bryson. “Was

that the more you had in mind?”

“Not even close.” Bryson growled as he snatched the drawer to

his nightstand open and grabbed the lube. Their kiss was sloppy as
hell as Milo fell back on the mattress. Bryson finished undressing
before he dropped the lube on the bed and grabbed Milo’s jaw,
nipping the man’s chin.

“How much more do you want?” Milo teased as he grabbed his

own erection, stroking himself.

Bryson positioned himself between Milo’s legs, running his finger

through the fiery red thatch of hair. “So you are a real redhead.”

“All natural,” Milo said, though he moaned the words.
Bryson backed off long enough to lube his fingers before moving

back in.

“Let me take care of that for you,” Bryson said as he licked the

base of Milo’s cock. Milo led the tip of his erection to Bryson’s lips
as Bryson worked his fingers into Milo’s ass.

He was overwhelmed by how much he wanted Milo. Bryson

couldn’t ever remember feeling this needy before, this turned on. The
desire in him surged as he inched Milo’s cock down his throat and his
fingers worked at stretching the man.

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Milo made him feel raw, wild things. Bryson didn’t want this

marriage to be fake. He wanted the real deal. It was Milo he wanted to
wake up to every morning and go to bed with every night. The
thought of spending a lazy Sunday in bed as they cuddled and
watched a movie or made slow, sweet love made Bryson’s chest hurt.

Bryson pulled back, removing his fingers before he lubed his

cock. He locked gazes with Milo as he slowly entered the man.

Milo’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he cupped his hands

behind his knees and pulled his legs back. His lips parted and Bryson
wanted to kiss them again. He wanted to kiss every part of the man’s
body.

As he inched inside, Bryson grabbed Milo’s ankles, spreading the

man’s legs apart as he watched his body become joined with Milo’s.

The skin hugged him so tightly that his teeth ached from gritting

them together. He wanted to make this last all night, but knew he
couldn’t. Milo was too much of a temptation and Bryson wasn’t going
to last that damn long.

“So big,” Milo breathed out.
Bryson stilled. “Am I hurting you?”
Milo’s head rocked back and forth. Bryson wasn’t sure if that was

a no or if the man was enjoying this. He waited until Milo opened his
eyes, the green of his irises so dark that it was almost black. “No.”

Bryson pulled back and then slid inside, slowly at first, and then

faster. He couldn’t stop himself. His hips began to thrust his cock
harder inside Milo, the pleasure so damn good he wanted to growl
with it.

His lover was eager, matching Bryson thrust for thrust. Bryson

dropped over Milo, the palms of his hands on either side of the man’s
head as he took Milo’s lips in a blazing kiss.

The man was so hot, so tight around Bryson’s cock, the muscles

gripping Bryson like a slick, velvety glove.

“This kind of more?” Milo asked when their lips parted.

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“Oh, yeah.” Bryson grinned and drove deeper. “This and much,

much more.”

Milo’s brows furrowed. “Your eyes.”
Bryson knew they were his bear’s eyes. He was drowning in lust,

in passion, and his bear was close to the surface. But fear crept its
way in. Bryson didn’t want Milo to reject him. He still hadn’t told the
man he was a bear shifter and hadn’t figured out how to go about
doing so.

“Later,” Bryson said. He didn’t want this moment ruined.
As if Milo could taste Bryson’s trepidation, he nodded and

smoothed his hands down Bryson’s arms. “So strong, so big.”

Bryson flexed and was rewarded with a swift intake of air from

Milo. The man looked reverently at him and Bryson never wanted
that look to diminish.

The niggling in the back of his mind returned and Bryson

remembered what he was supposed to warm Milo about.

Pregnancy.
But it was too damn late now. Only the fire and brimstone of hell

could stop Bryson from finishing what they’d started. There was no
way he could pull back now.

Not when he had the most beautiful man in the world underneath

him.

His husband.
That thought only drove Bryson to fuck Milo faster, harder, and

deeper. Milo’s skin began to shimmer with a fine sheen of sweat as he
cried out, his legs wrapped tightly around Bryson’s waist.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me.” Bryson was mesmerized by how

stunning the man looked when he climaxed.

But Bryson wasn’t too far behind. Not when Milo’s body had

such a tight grip on him. He thrust a few more times, his neck muscles
straining as he came, and came hard. Instinct drove him to bite into
Milo’s shoulder, making the man shout.

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A growl tore from his throat as his orgasm shattered him. He

pistoned his hips, wild, unhinged passion filling him.

When his orgasm began to subside, Bryson pulled his teeth free,

licking the wound as low, contented growls echoed from his throat.

He pulled back to smile down at Milo when he saw how big the

man’s eyes were.

“My, what big teeth you have,” he said as he swallowed audibly.
Bryson knew he had some explaining to do.

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Chapter Seven


Once he was home, sitting on the couch and curled around a large

pillow, Milo let go of a shaky breath. He was trying hard to wrap his
mind around what Bryson had told him.

A bear.
That couldn’t be possible. Things like that only happened in books

and movies. Humans didn’t really shift into animals. He wasn’t
having any success convincing himself that Bryson had been telling
the truth.

But the truth had stared him in the eyes. He had seen for himself

that Bryson’s normally deep-grey eyes had gone amber. He’d even
seen claws on the guy’s hands.

But it just wasn’t possible.
Bryson was everything Milo had dreamed of in a man and he had

turned out to be something other than human.

His luck just kept shitting on him. Milo started to wonder if his

life would ever look up. It didn’t seem that way. Not when one
disaster after another kept happening to him.

A bear.
He shook his head as he scooted down the couch, resting his head

on the pillow as he closed his eyes. Sleep. That was what he needed.
Hopefully when he woke, he would be able to make sense of
everything.

But sleep wasn’t going to come. Not now at least. Not when

someone was knocking on his door. No, they were banging fiercely.
Or was that the migraine he had?

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Lifting from the couch, Milo stretched and then walked to the

door. “I’m coming, damn it.”

The banging continued. Milo was getting pissed. Whoever it was

better have a damn good excuse or he was going to lay into them.

When he swung the door open, Milo nearly passed out.
Quinn McNeal was standing on the other side, his face ruddy with

anger. His eyes immediately dropped to Milo’s hand where his
wedding band lay.

“So it’s true,” the man bellowed. “You ran off and eloped with

some loser who probably has a minimum-wage job.”

Milo’s stomach soured at the way Quinn was speaking. He wanted

to punch the man, to beat some sense into the guy. Why couldn’t his
father accept him for who he was, for what he wanted out of life?

Being in the boardroom didn’t interest Milo. Living a flashy and

fast-paced life didn’t either. He liked this small town. It held so much
passion and coziness for Milo. He didn’t want to go back to
California, and he most definitely didn’t want to marry Drake.

“So what if I did?” he asked, though he knew he was pushing his

luck. Quinn McNeal didn’t take that kind of cheekiness from anyone,
least of all his son.

Quinn stepped into the house, forcing Milo to back up. His father

hadn’t waited to be invited in, but had he really thought the man
would? Not that Milo would have asked the man in anyway.

“It doesn’t matter,” Quinn answered, his tone indifferent. “As we

speak, your marriage is being annulled.”

“You can’t do that!” Milo didn’t care if he was confused about

Bryson being a bear. He didn’t even care that their marriage wasn’t
real. He wanted it to be real. The thought of losing Bryson sickened
him. Things might have been going too fast. They might have even
scared Milo shitless. But he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he
was falling for the cowboy.

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He had to be. No one had ever made Milo feel wanted and

cherished the way Bryson did. The man made him feel sexy, and he
was everything Milo wanted.

It just sucked that it took his father showing up for Milo to come

to that realization. If Bryson was standing here right now, Milo would
tell the man this. He would tell Bryson that he wanted their marriage
to work. That he had felt so at home at that dinner table, and that he
had cherished every second that he and Bryson had made love.

His father’s eyes darkened as he glared at Milo. “If you think I

can’t have your marriage annulled, then you really don’t know the
power I wield, do you?”

Milo refused to answer the man.
“And I have someone drawing up your marriage license to Drake.

You’ll be married to him by this afternoon. We don’t need a wedding,
just the certificate. If Drake marries into our family, he’ll inherit the
rest of his family’s fortune and I plan on getting a piece of that.”

The room spun as Milo became dizzy. How could Quinn do this to

him? Why was the man so ruthless with his very own child?

“I’ll never give you what you want,” Milo spat. “I don’t care what

papers you have drawn up, I’ll never sign them. I’ll never be the
robotic son you want me to be.”

“You don’t need to sign them.” Quinn snapped his fingers and his

bodyguard, Ethan, entered the trailer. Ethan was big, burly, and
downright mean. Growing up, Milo had witnessed the guy beat
people up right there in front of their house. The man had been
arrested once for nearly killing a guy after Quinn had ordered Ethan
to teach the guy a lesson.

And of course, Quinn had bailed Ethan out, gotten him the best

attorney, and Ethan had beaten the charges. Milo was never going to
escape his father. He could see that now. No matter where he ran,
Quinn would find him.

“You’re going to forge my signature?” Milo shouldn’t have been

shocked. Of course the man was.

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He would probably pay off some judge to forge the legal

document and then he and Drake would be married. Milo was
desperate not to go home, but he knew there was no way he could get
out of this. Not with Ethan here and not with his father towering over
him.

But his father had always towered over him. Milo wasn’t that big.

His build was roughly the same as his mother’s had been, something
his father reminded Milo about all the time. It was as if the man was
thoroughly disappointed that Milo wasn’t as big and strong as Ethan.

There had been a few times when Ethan had smacked Milo around

when Milo had been disobedient, as if Quinn didn’t want to dirty his
hands.

Milo glared at them both. “Then I’m taking my cat.”
He couldn’t leave Elyse alone, not when she was so close to

giving birth.

“Take that mangy thing and I’ll make sure it’s put out on the

street,” Quinn threatened. “I won’t have that thing roaming around
my home.”

Bitterness and resentment welled up inside of him. Milo had never

hated anyone this much in his life. But then he looked at Elyse and his
chest tightened as despair filled him. Milo was going to at least make
sure she was fed.

He walked to the cabinet and pulled down the large bag of food

he’d bought for her. Instead of filling her bowl, he sliced a long line
down the center of the bag to make sure she had plenty of food.

He also filled both bowls with water and went to the bathroom to

make sure the toilet seat was lifted. He wouldn’t be there when her
water ran out and he couldn’t bear the thought of her going thirsty.

When he was finished, he pulled her into his arms and stroked her

soft fur. “Be careful giving birth. I won’t be here for you, sweetheart.”

Tears gathered in his eyes as he lowered his voice. “But I promise

you, Elyse, I’ll be back to meet your babies.”

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He set her down and watched as she hurried into the bedroom. She

probably knew what was happening and was upset that Milo was
leaving. He at least hoped she would miss him.

“Enough,” Quinn snapped. “You’re wasting my valuable time.”
Milo shot daggers at his father as he walked to the door, swiping

his keys from counter out of habit.

The three walked outside. Milo was tempted as hell to run as far

and as fast as he could. But he knew it would be fruitless. He was also
afraid that when he was caught, Ethan would teach him a lesson.

He spotted Kaylem standing outside his home, gazing at them.

Milo started to shout for the man to tell Bryson that his father was
kidnapping him, but then he caught the smirk on Kaylem’s face.

Quinn noticed Kaylem as well. He turned to Ethan and said, “Go

pay the man.”

Milo’s jaw dropped. He turned around and shouted at Kaylem,

“You bastard!”

Kaylem only shrugged. “Money was too good to pass up.”
Milo gritted his teeth as he glared at his father. “You paid him to

spy on me?”

“He’s a bounty hunter, and the best apparently. But yes, I paid

him to find out what you were up to. Too bad he didn’t contact me
before you ran off and got married.”

“I hope you rot in hell!” Milo shouted once more at Kaylem.
“Nothing personal,” the man replied as he took a check from

Ethan.

Milo was so damn mad that he wanted to hurt something. Before

he was shoved into the backseat of the car, Milo dropped his keys,
praying Bryson found them and recognized them for the clue that they
were.

He would never lose his mother’s angel charm. He had told

Bryson how special it was to him. If Bryson spotted the keys on the
ground, Milo prayed the man would figure out that something was
amiss.

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Because Bryson was his only hope. Maybe the man could shift

and eat Quinn. His father deserved nothing less.

* * * *


Bryson curled his fingers around the keys in the palm of his hand.

When he’d found them outside of Milo’s home, Bryson had known
something was wrong. He’d questioned the neighbors but no one had
seen anything. It was as if Milo had disappeared into thin air.

But Bryson knew that wasn’t true. Milo would have never lost the

charm his mother had given him. He wouldn’t have left his pregnant
cat, either. A cat Bryson had brought home to the ranch until he could
give Elyse back to Milo.

That only left one possibility. Quinn had somehow found Milo.
“We’ll get him back,” Harland said as Bryson sat at the dining

room table listening to his friends argue about how to find Quinn
McNeil. It had been a week since Milo disappeared, and Bryson was
going insane.

They had already driven to California and found where Quinn

lived. They’d even muscled their way into his estate. But Quinn and
Milo were nowhere to be found.

The man had stashed Milo somewhere. Bryson just knew it. He

gazed at the wedding band on his finger and was determined to get
Milo back. His worst fear was that Quinn would make Milo pay for
leaving in the first place.

If he harmed one hair on Milo’s head, Bryson was going to go

bear on him. He was going to do that anyway, for the simple fact that
Quinn had dared to take something from Bryson. He was going to
show the man teeth and claws and teach him a lesson he wouldn’t
soon forget.

Milo’s name floated insistently through Bryson’s mind as he

thought of the small moments they had shared. He could still picture

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Milo standing in the field up in the mountains as the man gazed over
Bear County in sheer awe.

He thought back to when they had stood outside the Laundromat,

both too shy to say what was really on their minds. Milo’s face had
been a halo of beauty as he’d stood under the streetlamp. Bryson
hadn’t realized it at the time, but he had been falling for Milo even
then.

It wasn’t a simple fact of asking the man out. The bond had

started to grow. Now that he looked back on things, he admitted to
himself that he’d been smitten with Milo from the first time he’d ever
laid eyes on the human. He wanted another sweet kiss from Milo, to
feel the man in his arms, to inhale his wonderful scent and revel in the
fact that Milo was his.

But his arms were empty, and his stomach knotted into a tight fist

at the ache Bryson felt to cradle his husband in his arms once again.

He shook his head angrily. Why the hell had he let Milo go home?

He knew the man lived in fear of his father finding him. Bryson
should have demanded that Milo stay at the ranch. But he hadn’t
wanted to frighten the man. Bryson didn’t want to rule over Milo as
Quinn had. He wanted to give Milo as much freedom as the man
needed and wanted.

But when he got the man back, Bryson wasn’t going to let Milo

out of his sight.

“Any word?” Renee asked as she walked into the dining room. He

could see the worry in her eyes and appreciated just how much she
cared about the man Bryson had fallen in love with. That said a lot
about her character.

“Nothing.” Bryson heard the raw desperation in his voice. What if

he never found Milo? The thought took him by the throat. It had teeth,
and it wouldn’t let go. He had spent the past week going out of his
mind.

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Renee slid her arm around Bryson’s shoulder and gave him a light

squeeze. “You’ll find him. I have every confidence in the world that
he’ll be back here in no time.”

Bryson wished he was that confident. For all he knew, Quinn had

stashed Milo somewhere overseas. The man had the funds to do just
about anything he wanted, to hide Milo anywhere in the world.

He knew he had to prepare himself for the cold and sobering truth

that he may never get Milo back. But Bryson was never going to give
up. Knowing he had failed Milo was like a kick to his balls. How
could he have let Milo down like that?

Even if Milo wasn’t his mate, the man was his husband and he

needed Bryson’s help. He wasn’t going to leave Milo out there high
and dry.

The waiting was the worst part. His heart stuttered and all the

breath left his lungs in a painful burst as he thought about how scared
Milo probably was.

I’m going to find him. Don’t let your fear take over. Believe in

what Renee is saying. You’ll have Milo back.

A rush of anger, hope, fear, and rage raced through him like a

deadly virus, eating him alive.

Until he took his last breath, Bryson would scour the world

looking for the man who held his heart.

* * * *


Milo was sweating up a storm as the pain in his back started

again. It still boggled his mind that he was pregnant. At first, he had
thought he was getting sick from the food in this god-awful place.

Quinn had jetted him out of the country and had stashed Milo in

some small village. He didn’t even know where he was. There were
no forms of communication in the tiny hut he’d been forced to live in
for the past three months. Although he was fed well, the conditions
were deplorable. The floor was made of dirt and the only thing in

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there was a straw bed and a small table where he washed up. The
guards had dug a hole for Milo to use the bathroom in. He was living
with an outhouse in his hut. There were some days when the
temperatures swelled over one hundred, making the smell in his hut
unbearable.

No one knew that he was pregnant except the lone man who came

by his hut to check on Milo every day. Quinn was a bastard of a
father, but he had paid these men well to ensure Milo’s health and
safety. He’d also told Milo that he wasn’t going to marry Drake, that
Drake had decided Milo was too big of a hassle to try and keep under
his thumb, and that this place was his punishment. As least the man
hadn’t annulled his marriage to Bryson. But Milo was under no
illusion that Quinn cared just because he paid these men to take good
care of him.

If Quinn really cared, he wouldn’t have done this. And the guards

had disregarded Quinn’s orders. Their brutality had known no bounds
during the three months Milo had been shoved in this hut.

Milo gritted his teeth as pain racked his body. The air was so

heavy and concentrated that it swam in lines in front of Milo’s eyes.
Breathing was damn near impossible, especially considering the pain
he was in.

He didn’t know a damn thing about giving birth, but Milo was

almost positive he was in labor. He was also terrified of how he was
going to push the baby out. He rocked back and forth as he closed his
eyes, tears trickling down his face. Milo wanted Bryson. He was
scared out of his mind and needed the one man he had felt safe with.

Despite the oppressive heat and humidity, coldness seeped into his

bones. What if he died giving birth? What if he never saw Bryson
again? What would happen to the baby once Milo gave birth? The dirt
floor felt cold and hard as Milo began to weep.

He didn’t want to go through this alone. If Bryson was ever going

to save him, now would be a damn good time.

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Chapter Eight


“Are you sure?” Bryce wasn’t going to get his hopes up. Over the

past three months, they had received numerous tips about Milo’s
possible whereabouts, but each one had led to a dead end. If he had to
suffer through one more disappointment, Bryson knew he would lose
his mind.

Sparrow nodded. “From the intel my team gathered, we’re ninety

percent sure he’s there.”

Bryson still couldn’t believe that Sparrow had connections. Not

like this. As soon as the sheriff had found out that Milo had been
kidnapped by his very own father, Sparrow had called in favors,
gathering what he referred to as his “old team.”

How in the hell did the sheriff have a team? He was a small-town

cop. He shouldn’t have a team. But apparently there was more to
Sparrow than met the eye. And Bryson soon found that Sparrow was
well connected.

The sheriff had been using those connections over the past three

months to track Milo down. Reports had come in from Paris,
Germany, Ireland, and everywhere else all over the damn world.

But so far Milo hadn’t been found.
Bryson was tired of getting his hopes up. Ninety percent was

good, but he would prefer one hundred. Nevertheless, this was the
first lead with this strong a chance of being accurate.

“They’ll be heading in tonight under the cover of darkness,”

Sparrow was saying. “My team has downloaded the local maps into
their GPS’s along with satellite images they captured. If all goes well,

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and it’s really Milo in that hut, you’ll have him back in no time.”
Sparrow slapped Bryson on the shoulder, giving him a confident grin.

It had been three long months, yet Bryson felt like he couldn’t

survive the next forty-eight hours. He glanced up at Sparrow. “I just
want him back.”

Sparrow’s expression grew serious. “If that’s Milo, they’ll get him

back. I promise.”

Bryce glanced around at his friends who were gathered in the

dining room. They might have protested him marrying Milo, but
when the shit got ugly, they had been there for him with no hesitation.

Clayton, Harland, and Jed had searched the West Coast with

Bryson, never once complaining. Clayton had been the one to search
the hardest. He had confessed to Bryson what he’d said to Milo over
the phone. Bryson had been ready to snap Clayton’s neck.

But he could see the guilt in the man’s eyes and knew that Clayton

was remorseful. He knew Clayton cared about him, but the man
could’ve handled the situation better when talking with Milo.

“Hopefully that investigation involving Quinn McNeil pans out,”

Jed said as he took a seat at the table. “That would solve the problem
of keeping Milo safe.”

Sparrow had used his connections for other purposes as well. He

had someone looking into Quinn for laundering money for some very
bad people. When Sparrow’s men dug, they dug deep.

They had found a private account that was under a different name

than Quinn’s. They suspected it was the account the money was being
laundered through. What gave Bryson a cold feeling in his gut was
when he heard the word Columbia being used.

That could only mean drugs.
Just what in the hell was Quinn into? The man was already rich as

fuck, what did he need drug money for? For some men, it seemed,
enough wasn’t enough, and Quinn was a greedy pig that needed to be
slaughtered.

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Bryson just prayed like hell that Milo wasn’t being held in some

cartel compound. He twisted the band on his finger, determined not to
give in to any fears.

The day dragged by and Bryson was near madness by the time the

first report came in. Sparrow had set up a communications base in the
dining room. He had wanted Bryson to be informed every step of the
way. Plus, the dining room was the only room in the house big
enough to accommodate the equipment.

Bryson had no clue what half the stuff was. Correction, he had no

clue what any of it was.

Sparrow sat in a chair with thick, foamy headphones over his ears.

He looked up at Bryson. “They’ve landed.”

“Can I listen in?” Bryson asked.
Sparrow pointed to an extra set of headphones on the table.

Bryson took a seat and slid them over his head. For the longest time,
all was quiet, then a thunderous explosion pierced Bryson’s ears. He
heard rapid gunfire and Bryson’s heart seized in his chest.

“I need cover on the north,” someone said into Bryson’s ear. He

started to reply but then realized the man wasn’t talking to him, but to
someone else on his team.

His muscles locked into place as his breathing grew shallow.

Bryson was desperate to know what was going on, but his throat was
too constricted to ask Sparrow if the guy knew. He wasn’t sure how
Sparrow would know either, since the guy was sitting next to him, but
Bryson needed answers.

Another explosion sounded like a million thunderclaps. More

rapid gunfire. Quiet talking in their communication pieces. Bryson
almost felt as if he were there, fighting alongside Sparrow’s men. His
mind conjured up an image of them trudging through the jungle,
shooting at the enemy, blowing shit up. He would swear for years to
come that he’d felt the floor shake beneath him.

A voice echoed in Bryson’s ear and all he could do was hold his

breath.

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“Are you Milo McNeil?”
It felt like a lifetime as Bryson waited for the answer. Tears

sprang to his eyes when he heard the voice that had haunted his
dreams for three months, the voice he was so desperate to hear that
some days the need nearly broke him.

“Yes.”
Bryson squeezed his eyes closed as the tears trickled down his

face. His body trembled as his mouth went dry. He was having a
difficult time breathing. Bryson bowed his head, giving thanks that
Milo had finally been found.

“Jesus,” someone cursed into the earpiece. “What the hell is going

on?”

Bryson’s head snapped up. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but

there was definite shock and puzzlement in the man’s voice.

Sparrow removed his headphones before putting a microphone on

over his head. “Talk to me, T-Rex.”

“We have to move out,” someone said into the headset still

strapped to Bryson’s ears.

“But he’s fucking pregnant,” T-Rex shouted in disbelief. “And

from the looks of things, he’s giving birth.”

Every muscle Bryson possessed went stiff. His heart began to race

as a heavy feeling pervaded his stomach. He was disoriented, dizzy,
as a sudden coldness hit his core.

“I don’t know shit about delivering a baby,” someone said into the

earpiece.

“But he’s a guy!” the man Sparrow had referred to as T-Rex said.

“How the fuck is this even possible?”

“Snap out of it,” Sparrow growled into the microphone close to

his mouth. “Get your shit together and remember your training.
Deliver that goddamn baby and get them out of there.”

Bryson squeezed his eyes shut as he pressed his fists to the side of

his head, gasping for air. Milo was his mate. Milo was pregnant. Milo
was giving fucking birth.

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And Bryson wasn’t there.
Pain tightened in the back of his throat as his stomach churned. He

wanted to be there. Bryson wanted to witness the birth of his child.
His leg began to bounce with restless energy as he swore under his
breath. He needed to be there. Milo needed him to be there.

But the only goddamn thing he could do was listen and pray that

everything went okay.

“Holy hell,” someone whispered into the earpiece. “There’s a

freaking small head popping out.”

Bryson gripped the table, listening intently, trying to hear every

nuance of noise.

He heard gunfire in the background.
“Hurry, T-Rex,” someone said. “We’re running out of time.”
“Tell that to the baby coming out of the man’s stomach,” T-Rex

snapped.

Breathlessness overtook Bryson and heat radiated through his

chest. A feeling of weightlessness seized him when he heard the shrill
cry of his child. Sparrow reached over and slapped Bryson hard on his
knee. The man was grinning from ear to ear as he gave Bryson a
thumbs-up.

Bryson shook with excitement as his head spun. “Ask them what

it is,” Bryson said to Sparrow.

“What do we have, fellas?” Sparrow asked.
“A goddamn miracle,” T-Rex said.
“They’re closing in on us,” someone else said. “We have to get

moving, now!”

Bryson shot forward, slamming his fist onto the table. He felt so

damn helpless. His adrenaline was spiking through him as his anger
flared.

“Let’s get to our rendezvous point,” T-Rex said.
And then all went quiet.

* * * *

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Bryson was waiting on the tarmac of the private airstrip when the

plane landed. It had been two days since he’d heard Milo’s voice.
Two long days and Bryson could barely contain the excitement
grabbing hold of him.

His mate and child were on that plane.
A child he had yet to meet.
Harland, Clayton, and Jed were there, along with Sparrow, as the

plane touched down. Jed squeezed Bryson’s shoulder and smiled.
“They’re finally here.”

Bryson’s throat constricted as he nodded. He felt light on his feet

as his pulse raced and adrenaline coursed through him. The smile on
his face was from ear to ear as he watched the plane come to a stop.

A burst of laughter ripped from his chest as he hurried over to

meet his mate and child. The door opened and the steps descended.

The first to exit were three men Bryson had never seen before.

They were in all-black fatigues, strapped to the teeth with weapons.
They resembled warriors, men of action. He’d seen people like that
before when he was in the military. These men wore the same looks
as the men in the Special Forces. They were tough as nails and
hardcore to their bones.

Bryson ran his sweaty palms down the front of his jeans as he

stood there in anticipation. His eyes widened and his grin grew as
Milo stepped into view, cuddling a small bundle to his chest. Bryson
raced up the steps, pulling Milo into his arms, careful of the infant
between them.

Milo began to shake in his arms as he openly wept. Bryson held

onto him tightly, swearing to himself that he would never let the man
go.

That was until he heard his child’s cry.
Bryson backed up just a hair as he stared down into amazing

green eyes.

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Milo chuckled and sobbed at the same time as he handed the

bundle over to Bryson. “I think it’s time you met your daughter.”

Bryson’s hands shook as he pulled her into his arms. Tears

trickled down his face unchecked as he ran a knuckle over her soft,
cherubic cheek. “Hello, beautiful.”

He wrapped his free arm around Milo, tucking the man’s red head

under his chin and kissing his mate’s hair. “Welcome home,
sweetheart.”

Milo took in a ragged breath as he pulled his head back and

glanced up at Bryson. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Bryson’s throaty laughter was filled with joy as he kissed Milo on

the lips, inhaling his familiar scent.

Someone cleared his throat behind Milo. “Congratulations.”
Milo turned and smiled at the man. “This is T-Rex. He delivered

our daughter.”

Bryson reached out and gave the man’s hand a hearty shake. “I’m

indebted to you.”

T-Rex smiled. “I’m not even going to ask how this is possible.

But I do have to say that you have a beautiful daughter.”

“Thank you,” Bryson replied before he turned and led Milo down

the steps. The men who had rescued Milo were off talking with
Sparrow. Harland, Clayton, and Jed surrounded Bryson.

“Well?” Harland said. “Boy or girl?”
“Meet my princess,” Bryson said with pride as he turned his

daughter so the other men could see her. His arm never left Milo’s
shoulder, giving it light squeezes as he continued to kiss Milo on his
head.

Bryson was also indebted to Sparrow. There was no way he could

ever repay the man for what he had done for not only Bryson, but
Milo as well.

“My mom is going to flip,” Harland said. “She’s as cute as a

button. What’s her name?”

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Bryson glanced at Milo. He hadn’t a clue. Bryson hadn’t even

known that Milo was pregnant.

“Willow,” Milo replied. “I used to listen to the sound of the

willows blowing in the breeze at night and that was the only thing that
kept me calm, kept me sane.”

Bryson handed Willow off to Jed before he turned and pulled

Milo fully into his arms. He hugged the man tightly as he whispered,
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you sooner. On my life I swear that
you’ll never be taken from me again.”

Milo melded into Bryson’s body, his arms wrapping around

Bryson tightly as he nodded. He could feel a slight tremor and knew
that Milo was once again crying. Bryson pressed his lips against
Milo’s temple, thankful that his mate had made it home safely.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s breaking my heart. You’re safe. I swear.”

Bryson ran his hand up and down Milo’s back as he slightly rocked
the man until Milo’s body finally relaxed.

“I love you.” Milo breathed the words into Bryson’s chest. “I love

you so much that it hurts.”

Bryson felt dizzy at Milo’s confession. He wanted to shout with

joy that Milo was his. “Aw, sweetheart. You have no idea just how
much I love you.”

He hated to let the man go, but knew that they needed to get

moving. Before he could whisk Milo into the truck, Clayton stopped
Bryson’s mate. “I’m sorry about being so terse with you on the
phone.”

Milo shook his head as he smiled. “I’ve had a long time to think

about everything. I know you were just looking out for Bryson. After
what I’ve been through, I think I can forgive you.”

Clayton chuckled as he gave Milo a quick hug. “Congratulations

on your daughter.”

“Thanks,” Milo said. “I just want a long hot bath and to sleep for

days.”

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“Oh,” Clayton said as he released Milo. “I’m pretty sure Bryson is

going to take care of all your needs.” Clayton winked at Bryson
before he turned and climbed into the truck.

Jed handed Willow back to Milo as he gave Milo a quick kiss on

the temple. “Congratulations, honey.”

Bryson kept Milo glued to his side as he cradled his daughter in

his arms on their drive home. He was still in wonderment as they
pulled into the long, winding driveway. Bryson couldn’t believe that
he had a daughter.

He still couldn’t believe that Milo was his mate.
Renee burst from the front door, her arms extended as Bryson and

Milo walked up the steps. “Boy or girl?” she asked excitedly.

“Her name is Willow,” Bryson announced proudly.
“A girl!” Renee seized the baby from Bryson. “She’s absolutely

gorgeous.”

“Do you mind keeping her for a little bit while I get Milo settled

in?” Bryson asked.

“There’s no need to ask!” Renee turned on her feet and walked

inside, cooing to Willow. Dresden, Noah, and Josh welcomed Milo
home before Bryson led his mate upstairs where he drew a hot bath
for the weary-looking man.

Bryson had a million questions for Milo. For starters, had he been

treated well? Had anyone hurt him? How had he lived in another
country, in a hut, for three months with no running water and other
essentials? But most of all, how was Milo’s mental state?

Bryson didn’t want to push the man if his mate wasn’t ready to

talk about it. Milo hadn’t said much on the way home and his features
were a bit sunken.

Before Milo headed into the bathroom, Bryson buried his face in

his mate’s hair. “If—” He swallowed roughly. “If there is anything
you need, anything at all, you’ll let me know, right?”

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The doctor was coming by later to check on Milo and Willow to

ensure both were healthy. Bryson sucked in several steadying breaths
before letting Milo go.

Milo gave him a wobbly smile. “I just need a hot bath and some

rest.”

Bryson had Milo back and he’d kill Quinn if the man ever came

near Bryson’s mate again. Too bad he hadn’t gotten the chance to do
so already.

But if he ever came face-to-face with Quinn, Bryson was going to

tear the man apart.

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Chapter Nine


Milo eased into the bathtub and pulled his legs to his chest,

curling his arms around them. He was thankful that he hadn’t gone
insane in that dark and desolate place. But he hadn’t come away
totally unscathed.

Much of what he’d experienced was better left forgotten. Ethan

hadn’t harmed him, but Milo couldn’t say the same for his captors.
There were nights when they beat him to a bloody pulp just for being
the son of a very rich American.

They had taunted him, calling him names, threatening worse if he

ever told his father what was really going on. But after the initial
drop-off, Milo had never seen Quinn again.

His breath caught in his throat as he began to tremble. His nerve

endings felt like they were firing in random succession. An endless
staccato of agony barreled through his veins. Milo sucked in air
through his nose, his nostrils flaring with the effort.

He had never been good enough for Quinn. He didn’t belong on

this ranch with these nice people. And by now, all of Milo’s things
would have been thrown out at the trailer Park.

But you belong with Bryson.
Did he, or had he convinced himself of that over the past three

months just to stop himself from going insane? Milo was having a
hard time deciding what was real and what he’d made himself believe
in order to survive his captivity.

When the bathroom door clicked open, Milo turned his head

toward the wall and rested his cheek on his bent knees. He
concentrated on each breath. In and out. After a minute or two, the

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tightness in his chest eased and he began to relax. He turned to look at
the man whose face Milo had held onto for so many months.

Bryson knelt by the tub, folding his arms over the edge. “You’re

not alone,” Bryson said as he picked up the sponge that had been
floating in the water and smoothed it over Milo’s back.

Bryson was being tender with him, so reverent that it brought

tears to Milo’s eyes. “Then why do I feel that way?”

Milo inhaled swiftly when Bryson pulled him into a hug. The

man’s body trembled against him. Bryson’s shoulders heaved, and
Milo thought the man might be crying, but he was afraid to look up,
afraid of losing his own tenuous grip on his emotions. If Bryson broke
down in front of him, Milo would simply shatter.

“Do you know how many nights I laid awake and dreamt of just

holding you?” Bryson asked, still keeping Milo close. Milo laid his
head on Bryson’s chest, listening to Bryson’s heartbeat thump against
his ear. The sound was soothing, calming.

Milo had dreamt the same thing. He used to hug himself at night,

pretending his arms were Bryson’s. “I’ve missed you so much,” Milo
confessed.

His soul felt tattered, worn down. But as Bryson held him, Milo

could feel a part of himself healing. Bryson pulled back and brushed
the pad of his thumb over Milo’s cheek.

“Whatever it takes, whatever you need, I’m here for you. Just”—

Bryson glanced down toward the bathwater—“don’t shut me out. I
lost you for three months, lost out on so much. I don’t want to lose
you while you’re right here next to me.”

Bryson looked so vulnerable in that moment that it tore at Milo’s

heart. “I don’t want to be lost,” he said.

The water had cooled and Milo began to shiver a little. Bryson

dipped his head and placed a gentle kiss on Milo’s lips before he
bathed Milo and then pulled him from the tub. Bryson wrapped a
towel around Milo and carried him to the bed.

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Once settled, Bryce curled himself around Milo. The man just

held him, running his hand up and down Milo’s arm in a leisurely
manner as the sun began to cast shadows over the room.

Milo wanted Willow back in his arms, but he was so tired that his

lids began to drift down. Bryson was making a soothing noise in the
back of his throat, a sound that lulled Milo to sleep. For the first time
in months, Milo finally felt safe.

* * * *


Bryson cradled Willow over his shoulder as Elyse rubbed her

body across his leg. Over the past eight weeks, Milo had slowly
begun to heal. He no longer woke up screaming, and he was
integrating himself into the family more and more. Bryson knew Milo
wouldn’t recover overnight from what he’d been through. The healing
process was slow, but it was happening and he couldn’t be happier
with Milo’s determination to put the event behind him.

“Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?” Milo asked as he

exited the bathroom, nearly tripping over one of Elyse’s kittens.

“Just don’t take much longer,” Bryson said. “I’m going

downstairs to find Renee.”

Renee had agreed to watch Willow while Bryson took his mate on

a much-needed outing. Although Bryson adored his daughter, he was
getting a bit antsy to spend some time alone with his mate.

Bryson was dressed in his badass biker getup, knowing how much

Milo loved to see him like this. He’d talked Sparrow into letting him
use his bike once more. The sheriff told Bryson that he should
consider buying one of his own.

And he was.
Just not right now.
Bryson walked into a living room filled with munchkins watching

some kids’ movie. He tiptoed through, knowing how rare it was for
all of them to be quiet at the same time.

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Renee lifted her arms, smiling at Bryson as he handed Willow off

to her.

“Thanks,” he mouthed before he crept out the front door where

the Harley was sitting, shiny and ready to be ridden. Bryson straddled
the bike and slipped his sunglasses into place as Milo walked onto the
porch.

The smile on Milo’s face spread as he gazed at Bryson. “What a

nice bike,” Milo said. “Yours?”

“I borrowed it from a friend of mine,” Bryson admitted. He loved

the fact that Milo remembered their conversation the first time they
had gone riding.

“Then let’s go for a ride.”
The man kneed Bryson in the back as he mounted. Bryson

chuckled to himself. Some things never changed. Well, some did.
Milo held him tighter, resting his cheek on Bryson’s back. Instead of
holding his hands over Bryson’s chest as he had done the first time,
Milo now held Bryson around the waist, closer to his cock.

Bryson pulled from the drive and headed up into the mountains,

taking Milo back to the abandoned house they’d visited once before.
As the bike roared down the paved road, he could hear the contented
sighs Milo was making the entire way. It did Bryson’s heart good to
know the old Milo was slowly coming back, emerging from the
shadowy form he had lived in for the past two months.

Bryson found the dirt road he was looking for. It wound up into a

thick forest, just as he remembered. He heard a soft laugh behind him,
as if Milo was pleased they’d returned here.

He parked the bike on the side of the house and both just sat there

for a moment, soaking in the view.

“It’s still as beautiful as ever,” Milo said as he dismounted.
His red hair was windblown, making Milo look like a wood

nymph that had strayed from the forest. Bryson gazed at his mate,
mesmerized at how much he loved the guy and how blessed he was to
have a second chance.

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93

He dismounted, shoving his glasses on top of his bandana-clad

head. Bryson stood beside Milo, appreciating the view. But he wasn’t
looking over Bear County. He was staring at the most stunning man to
ever walk the earth.

He turned back to the bike and pulled a blanket from the saddle

bag, something he’d placed in there before announcing their little trip.

Milo blushed as he bit his lower lip. “And what is that for?”
“So you can give me more.” Bryson winked at his mate, hoping

he wasn’t pushing Milo to do more than he was ready for. They
hadn’t had sex since Milo’s return, and that was fine with Bryson. He
knew Milo had needed the time to heal emotionally.

“How much more?” Milo asked as he wandered over to the

blanket, standing just at the edge.

Bryson grabbed Milo around the waist, pulling him closer until

their bodies were melded together. “However more you’re
comfortable with, sweetheart. Tell me what you need, Milo. I swear
I’ll give it to you. Anything. If you just want to sit here and quietly
enjoy the view, we can do that.”

“I want you so much it hurts,” Milo admitted. “You’re all I think

about. But”—Milo glanced at Bryson’s chest—“I wasn’t ready.”

Bryson rubbed his hands over Milo’s back. “And now?”
Instead of answering him, Milo leaned up and brushed his lips

over Bryson’s. “Now I want you with every beat of my heart. I want
you to make love to me, Bryson.”

Bryson’s nostrils flared and his heart ached at the uncertainty in

Milo’s tone. He could feel Milo’s heart fluttering wildly as the man’s
breath began to come out in pants.

“I’ll make love to you, baby. I’ll do anything you want.” He

closed the distance, kissing the man gently, putting all the passion he
felt for Milo into it. He’d been dying for a sensual kiss like this for a
long time.

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He could finally tell Milo he was safe and mean it. Quinn had

been arrested and was being indicted on numerous charges. The man
wasn’t going to see the light of day for a very long time.

Bryson probed at his mate’s lips until Milo finally opened to him.

Milo’s scent was a gentle caress against Bryson’s senses. His entire
body seemed to feel everything more acutely—the wind in his hair,
the sun on his skin, and the warmth of the man in his arms—as his
tongue delved into his mate’s mouth. God, the man tasted so damn
spicy.

He lowered them to the blanket. They were chest to chest, taking

their time, reacquainting themselves with one another.

Milo’s hand slid up Bryson’s back, pulling him closer, their

tongues dueling, performing a mating dance that made Bryson’s
senses go wild. Bryson nipped at Milo’s lower lip, showing his
dominance in the most provocative way. Milo gave a low, throaty
moan, nipping Bryson right back.

He slid his hand into Milo’s hair, giving it a light tug, pulling the

man’s head back so he could nip down the nymph’s throat.

It had been so long since Bryson had been with Milo that he had

to chant to himself to go slow and not ravish the man’s body. He
furrowed his brows when Milo pulled away, but his puzzlement didn’t
last long. Milo yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

Skin.
Bryson needed skin.
He removed his shirt as well, shivering when Milo ran the palms

of his hands over Bryson’s chest. “Still so big,” Milo murmured
before sucking one of Bryson’s nipples between his teeth, biting it
gently.

Bryson hissed, his cock becoming fully erect as his mate licked

and sucked at him. He glided his hand up Milo’s back, cupping the
back of Milo’s head and holding him in place. God, Bryson had been
ready to sell his soul in the time that Milo was gone in order to have
this.

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95

So many lonely nights. So many prayers for Milo’s safe return.

And here his mate was, touching him in ways nobody else had. Not
just sexually, but emotionally as well. Bryson had never loved anyone
as much as he loved Milo.

Milo released his nipple, grinned, and then unsnapped his pants,

sitting up after he’d wiggled them down to his ankles. As Milo
unlaced his shoes, Bryson shucked his jeans and boots.

Naked at last.
Laying back down, Milo hitched one leg over Bryson’s waist,

bringing their bodies closer together. “Much better,” Milo said before
he licked at the other nipple, teasing it into his mouth. The sensation
raced across Bryson’s chest, sending tiny shock waves through his
body.

Gliding his hand down Milo’s side, Bryson pushed it between

them and ran his knuckles over Milo’s erection. The man bucked,
making Bryson smile wickedly as Milo continued to taste him.

Wrapping his fingers around Milo’s cock, Bryson inhaled the flare

of desire that seemed to be filling the air around them. His hand
gripped Milo’s cock harder when Milo groaned and thrust his hips
forward.

Although Milo had been home for two months, Bryson had been

feeling a bit lonely. He had craved this intimacy as much as he craved
breathing. Milo hadn’t shut him out, but he had kept a distance
between them when it came to sex.

Again, Bryson hadn’t minded, though he’d spent many days in the

bathroom jerking off. Now it seemed his mate was ready to take that
step, and Bryson was going to make sure he showed Milo just how
much he cared for the man, how much he cherished being with him.

As Milo savored him, Bryson’s cock turned into a wedge of steel,

straining between them. He blindly reached behind him as he kept
Milo’s head close to his chest, grabbing his jeans and digging into the
front pocket for the packets of lube he’d stuffed in there.

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Lynn Hagen

He dropped the packets behind Milo and then tore one open,

drizzling the clear liquid onto his fingers before he probed at Milo’s
entrance.

Wicked, driving hunger rose to the forefront of his senses. The

only thing Bryson could think of was having Milo, possessing him
and reclaiming his mate.

Milo’s hips pressed forward, grinding their erections together.

Bryson slid two fingers into Milo’s ass, clenching his teeth at the
tightness.

His mate lifted his arms into the arm, pressing his hands into

Bryson’s free one. He instantly knew what the man wanted. Bryson
gripped Milo’s wrists and held them firmly as he stretched his fingers
wide, reveling in the soft whimpers vibrating in Milo’s throat.

“God, I’ve missed this,” Bryson said as he slipped a third finger

into Milo’s ass. “I’ve missed everything about this, about us being
together.”

Milo pulled his head back from Bryson’s chest, gazing up with

those magical green eyes that always entranced Bryson. He would
never get enough of Milo, never tire of the man, and never take for
granted what they had together.

He belonged to this human, heart, body, and soul.
Milo pulled his wrists free before he pressed his palms into

Bryson’s pecs, his eyelids fluttering closed. “I dreamt of you making
love to me. I ached for it on so many nights.”

“I’m here now, love. I’ll make love to you as many times as you

want me to, need me to. All you have to do is ask and I’m yours.”

Bryson removed his fingers and then turned Milo to his stomach.

He glided his hands over the man’s smooth back as Milo sighed. His
mate had a contented little smile on his lips as Bryson lubed his
erection.

Stretching out on Milo’s side, Bryson grabbed the man’s leg and

lifted it, the tip of his cock honing in on Milo’s hole. He kissed his
way across Milo’s shoulder as he breached his mate, inching his cock

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Cowboy Rescue

97

into Milo’s body, shuddering at how good it felt to be inside the man
once more.

His legs began to tremble as he fought not to pound into the man’s

tender flesh. Bryson waited for Milo to relax, for Milo’s body to
accept the invasion of his cock.

Bryson slid an arm under Milo, pulling him close, pressing their

bodies together as he surged forward, his cock tightly encased inside
Milo.

He stilled, goose bumps breaking out over him at the rioting

pleasure that wracked his body. “Missed you so much,” Bryson
murmured as he began to thrust his hips slowly, taking time to savor
this moment.

Bryson finally had someone to fill his bed, someone to wake up

to. He felt as if his life was now complete. But Milo wasn’t just
someone. He was the balm that soothed Bryson’s soul, the anchor in
life Bryson needed, and the man who held Bryson’s heart in the palm
of his hand.

Milo’s muscles were gripping Bryson’s dick so tightly that he was

already on the verge of coming. He focused on Milo’s face, watching
as sweat began to glisten on his mate’s skin. Bryson leaned forward
and licked a long path up Milo’s neck and then nipped his shoulder.
“Mine,” he growled.

“Yours,” Milo agreed as he surged backward, meeting Bryson

stroke for stroke.

Bryson couldn’t take it any longer. He had tried to hold out as

long as he could. But Milo’s body was too pleasurable, too all-
consuming.

He turned until Milo was on his hands and knees and then began

to move faster, driving his cock hard and deep. Milo cried out, his
arms quivering.

Bryson grabbed Milo’s hips, thrusting forward. Their rhythm was

a thing of beauty as Milo arched his back and cried out his climax.

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Lynn Hagen

Bryson licked at his mate’s shoulder, and then bit down hard into his
soft flesh.

He growled hard as his cock exploded inside Milo’s hot channel.

A wave of mind-blowing eruptions slammed through Bryson as he
jetted into Milo. The man continued to cry out until Bryson slowed,
rocking their bodies together.

He reached up and wiped the sweat from his brow, relaxing his

fingers on the man’s hips.

Milo collapsed beneath him, pulling free of Bryson’s softening

cock.

Before he stretched out beside his mate, Bryson reached into his

jeans. He dangled the charm in front of Milo’s face. “I was waiting to
give this back to you.”

Milo grabbed it, his eyes watering as he gazed at the charm his

mother had given him. “I prayed you would find this.”

Bryson lay down, curling around Milo, pulling the man’s back to

his chest. He rested his chin on Milo’s shoulder. “It was the clue that
led me to you.”

Turning, Milo burrowed himself under Bryson. “This is where I

always want to be, Bryson. Not just near you, but tucked safely next
to your heart.”

Bryson wrapped his arms around Milo, holding him close. “You

were already there the day I met you.”

THE END

WWW.LYNNHAGEN.COM

WWW.FACEBOOK.COM/LYNNHAGEN.AUTHOR

LYNNHAGEN@YAHOO.COM

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR



Lynn Hagen loves writing about the somewhat flawed, but

lovable. She also loves a hero who can see past all the rough edges to
find the shining diamond of a beautiful heart.

You can find her on any given day curled up with her laptop and a

cup of hot java, letting the next set of characters tell their story.


For all titles by Lynn Hagen, please visit

www.bookstrand.com/lynn-hagen

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Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com





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