The Price of Mason (Forbidden Men 10)

It would’ve been so much nicer to just drive the two hours home, take a shower, and pass out in my own, comfortable, mosquito-free bed.

But nope. Mom had looked at me with that look of hers, the one I could never turn down, and said, “You’re staying, right? We barely see you anymore since…since you started med school.”

So here I was, waking up in the dark of night to people laughing and talking a foot from my head as they passed my tent, only a thin layer of canvas separating my skull from getting pancaked by some dude’s flip-flop.

“What...?” I mumbled, disorientation clouding my thoughts until I remembered exactly where I was and what I was doing here.

Groaning, I shifted on the hard ground because my brother had forgotten to load the inflatable mattresses—even though I’d asked him twice if he’d grabbed them when we’d packed for the trip this morning—and I gasped in pain when my sunburned shoulder scraped raw against the zippered inseam of my sleeping bag.

Oh, God, that hurt. That really, really hurt.

Waves from the river surged nearby, sounding close, so close that even though I knew better, it momentarily made me wonder if the water level had risen so much since I’d gone to bed that I was about to be swept downstream and lost forever.

My semi-awake status morphed into way more awake than I wanted to be, and I shivered, burrowing deeper into my coverings. Damn, but I swear the temperature had dropped about thirty degrees since the ninety-degree weather we’d floated in all day. The damp, outdoor mustiness in my sleeping bag made me even more irritable, while my mouth was so dry it felt like a desert up in there.

What the hell time was it? I was beyond ready to go home now. We’d finished our canoe trip at six this evening. Then a crazy, death-defying bus driver had shuttled us back to our campsite, where all the moms had roasted hot dogs, s’mores, and tin foil-wrapped corn on the cob over the fire pit.

I hadn’t lasted much after that, stumbling my way to my tent and passing out within minutes. The last

thing I remember was my brother’s chuckle as he called me a lightweight and then reassuringly patted my shoulder, telling me it was okay, we could switch, before everything went blank. Switch what; I had no idea. I’d find out in the morning, I guess.

Which hopefully had to be soon. Right? Please almost be here, morning.

Patting my hand around my head in the dark until I found my cell phone, I winced against the sudden flare of light and checked the time only to groan when I learned in was merely eleven—probably too late to pack up and head home yet way too early for my peace of mind to stick around here for another seven hours until sunrise.

God, this sucked.

I turned my phone off, pitching the tent into darkness once again, and I rolled onto my back, trying to go easy on my sunburn, only to whimper when a load of sore muscles screamed in agony.

Maybe if Luke, my canoe partner, hadn’t been so busy flirting with every unattached-looking female we passed on the water, he might’ve actually helped me with some of the rowing and I wouldn’t hurt so much right now. But nope, he’d been his typical turd brother self, and here I was, suffering for it.

Man, I was really thirsty. I wondered if I’d brought a bottle of water into the tent with me earlier. That would be my saving grace, because I was too tired to crawl out and go searching through all the coolers for a drink. From the sounds of it, everyone else in my camp party had settled in for the night, too, so I couldn’t be lazy and just call for someone to fetch me a bottle, either. Damn. I guess I’d just have to hope to fall back to sleep sometime soon.

If I were really lucky, maybe I’d never wake up. The way my life had been going lately, that’d probably be for the best.

I shifted back onto my side and punched at the lump of clothes under my head that was doubling as my pillow, trying to mold it into a more comfortable shape but failing.

Just as I closed my eyes, a zipping sound startled me alert. Not daring to breathe, I focused on the front of my tent where I swear I heard it being opened.

Yep, it was definitely my tent. I could make out a distinct human-shaped form just outside, attempting to breach the entrance.

It was most likely someone from my group. Every person I’d canoed with today was either family or they might as well be because I’d known them my entire life. None of them would have any qualms about barging in to borrow something or play a dirty trick on me.

But there was still that slim possibility it was a stranger, intent to rob, maim, or kill.

Every muscle in my body tensed when a head-shaped blob poked through the opening. If Luke was trying to prank me, I’d kill him. That’s all there was to it. I was not in the mood for fun and games at my expense tonight.

“Psst,” the intruder whispered. “Luke. Hey, Luke? You awake?”

I let out a silent breath. While I was grateful it wasn’t a stranger, I rolled my eyes dramatically because I knew that whisper. Oh, how I knew that whisper.

Teagan Tenning wasn’t my sister—she wasn’t even related—but she might as well be from the way we’d been raised together. She was younger, yet I couldn’t recall a memory growing up when she hadn’t been right there, tagging along behind Luke and me, always trying to catch up so she could play with us. I think we spent more time trying to invent creative ways to avoid her than we did actually playing.

Since it’d been Luke’s name she’d called, not mine, I resorted to one of my childhood tactics and pretended to be asleep so she’d go away. But I should’ve known better; that had never worked then, and it didn’t seem to work now.

The brat came right on in.

Damn, even if I were Luke, couldn’t she see I was asleep and wanted to be left alone?