Perfect Bastard (Mason Creek)

“He doesn’t like you. You have to go.”

When Nate’s eyes widened, I covered my mouth as an inappropriate giggle burst through. I couldn’t help but think this whole scenario was too close to his story.

I stood and pulled him to his feet, pointing to his clothes.

“Avery, I know you’re home. I heard you talking. Let’s talk.”

“Just a minute,” I said. Then I went to the window and opened it. Luckily, it didn’t make a noise.

Nate just glared at me as he grabbed his clothes from the floor. “You’re joking, right?” he whispered when he reached me. “Can I put on my clothes first?”

Dad’s knock was louder, and he wiggled the knob.

“No, go, please. He’ll kill you.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie. This was Montana. Everyone had a firearm. And Dad would surely find his before Nate could make it to the trees, which was the only cover he’d find.

“You’ll explain this later,” Nate said, throwing a naked leg over the sill.

“I promise. Now go.”

I might have pushed him a little too hard, and he tumbled over the edge. “Sorry,” I mouthed before closing the window, grabbing my robe from the back of the door and opening the door.

NINETEEN

Nate

Snow was in my ass crack and my balls drew up, trying to reach my stomach as I stood up. My clothes had hit the ground, but I wasn’t running like all those years ago.

It was too far. She lived in the middle of nowhere, and I had to hike about a half a mile in the trees behind her house to prove my damn stealth. How dumb could I be? I was a grown-ass man trying to impress not a girl but a woman. And here I was, freezing my dick off.

I shoved on my jeans and then stuck my feet in boots. Snow crushed inside as I muttered curses. Then I heard a voice and froze.

“Who the hell was in your room? Was it him?”

Was I the him? Jealousy caught in my throat as I imagined Avery with someone else.

“Did he go out the window?”

I snatched my shirt and socks from the ground and crouched under the window, hoping he wouldn’t open it. It was dark and shadows covered me.

“Dad. What do you want?”

“I want to know who was here. This is my house, dammit.”

She wasn’t a teenager, I wanted to say to the man.

“I’m not a kid and I’ll have whoever I want over, or I’ll move out. Remember, I’m doing you a favor, not the other way around.”

I hadn’t had time to consider why she lived with her parents. It hadn’t been much of a thought. Small towns around here weren’t bursting with millionaires. Maybe she was saving money. It didn’t matter to me.

In a less aggressive tone, he said, “You’re right. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.” I heard movement away from the window. The last thing I thought I heard was her father saying something about that family drives me crazy. I wondered who he thought Avery had been with because I couldn’t imagine one reason he could be talking about mine.

I finished dressing and jogged my way to the trees and back to Dad’s truck. Only then did I laugh. I called Aiden, and he told me to stop by.

We hadn’t spent a lot of time together of late with his twins and me working my ass off to complete the renovation, so I agreed.

He opened the door, and I immediately covered my eyes. Emma was sitting on the sofa, nursing one of their brood.

“You can look. I’m covered.” I’d seen the blanket but didn’t want to accidentally see more. “How are you these days?” she asked, giving me a knowing look.

“You’ve seen the video.” She silently agreed. I blew out air. “I think I’m in trouble,” I admitted.

“She’s the one?” Emma asked, looking almost excited. “The one who sang on stage with you.”

“I don’t know if she’s the one, but damn if she hasn’t got me twisted up. I mean, she had me climbing in her window after a snowstorm. Who does that?”

“You. And it wasn’t the first time,” Aiden said. When I glared at him, he added, “Oops. Forget I said that.”

“Forget what?” Emma asked.

“It’s not a big deal. It’s not the first time I’ve climbed into a girl’s window and left without my pants on to avoid being killed by an angry father, and it happened again tonight. I told Avery—, that’s the woman from the stage, — the story about the first time and she practically dared me to sneak in her room. Then we acted out what happened that past time…”

Emma covered her ears. “Should I hear this?” Her chortle was infectious.

“I’ll spare you the details. Basically, she lives with her dad, and he came home. Knocking on her door.”

They were both in hysterics, though they laughed silently as to not wake up their daughter who slept in a basket thing within feet of Aiden. Which was why we were talking in hushed whispers.