The Price of Mason (Forbidden Men 10)

“Wow, Mom,” Luke told Zoey dryly. “Thanks for automatically assuming people are talking about me whenever they call your son an asshole.”

No one laughed. Utter silence followed as everyone gaped up at JB in stunned shock.

Then my mom let out a gasp and hopped repeatedly on her bare toes, clapping excitedly. “JB and Teagan? Together? Oh my God, I love it. We should have a Christmas wedding.”

“What?” I roared, gaping at my crazy mother just as JB cried, “No!”

“Yeah, JB’s always preferred the fall,” Zoey announced as if the date were the only problem she had with anything my mother had just suggested.

“We are not getting married,” I announced.

“Uh, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you two hooked up,” Fox snickered, making his pregnant sister hiss at him to shut up from inside her and Beau’s tent.

“We did not hook up,” JB growled. “Teagan, for the love of God, tell them we didn’t hook up.”

When everyone looked my way, I went strangely mute, remembering how close I’d come to kissing him, how nice it’d felt to sit on the hard ridge of his erection as it ground up between my legs. My body was still coming down from the buzz he’d left me with. I wasn’t sure if any guy had ever worked me up quite as much as JB had, and all he’d done was lift his hips a little and touch my butt.

My mind suddenly spun, wondering what he might’ve accomplished if he’d actually put some effort into it. And hell, arousal flushed through me all over again.

“That’s it,” my dad announced, scowling at my dazed expression before I could clear my brain enough to come up with something appropriate to say. “I’m killing him.”

“No,” Quinn said mildly as he grabbed the back of Dad’s shirt, stopping him when he tried to move toward the tree. “You’re not. Stay away from the tree.”

“Why are you in a tree, anyway?” my aunt Julianna asked, blinking up at JB.

“Oh, you know,” JB answered, conversationally, waving his hand and revealing the fact he was wearing nothing but boxer shorts. “It was such a nice night, I thought this would be the best place to avoid being murdered.”

“Well, you can come down,” Uncle Noel assured. “Ten’s not really going to kill you.”

“Yes, I am,” my dad insisted, struggling against JB’s dad.

“Maybe we should hear what Teagan and JB really have to say before we start assuming anything,” Aunt Felicity—who wasn’t really an aunt but might as well be—said.

“Didn’t sound like T had much to say,” Uncle Colton put in, stirring up some knowing chuckles among the group.

“Yes, I do,” I cried, setting my hands on my hips. “You guys didn’t even give me a chance to talk.”

“Then please start talking,” my mother suggested impatiently, “before your dad really does kill your future husband.”

“He’s not my—” I started, only to cut myself off and lift a hand. “Okay, here’s what happened. I crawled into the wrong tent, and by the time I realized JB was in there, I might’ve already removed some clothing, and I was so embarrassed and in a rush to leave, I might’ve accidentally left my underwear behind. That’s all.”

A moment of silence followed my explanation, before Luke huffed out a disappointed breath. “Well, that was boring. I’m going back to bed.” And he turned around, stalking off into the night.

My dad however didn’t seem bored in the least. He moved to me, squinting his eyes as he took in my face. Then he said, “Bullshit. You’re lying.”

“What?” I cried in outrage. “No, I’m not. I really did crawl into the wrong tent, and I really did leave my undies behind.”

He shook his head slowly. “That’s not the part you’re lying about.”

“Then what the hell do you think I’m lying about?” I demanded, scowling.

“I’m not sure yet,” he murmured, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “But there was definitely a lie somewhere in there.”

“Dammit,” I admitted, stamping my feet. “How do you always know that?”

“Oh, please,” JB reported dryly from the tree. “You give yourself away every time you lie because you have the most obvious tell on the planet. You always—”

“Don’t you dare tell her what she does to give herself away, you little fucker,” my dad warned, pointing threateningly. “How do you know what her tell is, anyway? You’re not supposed to know anything intimate about my daughter at all.”