For Always- Mason & Maura 1 Read online

  FOR ALWAYS

  Mason & Maura Part 1

  A Gemstone Romance

  Cara Scott

  Scott Books

  Copyright © 2020 Cara Scott

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Cover design by: Cara Scott

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  Discover my Gemstone Series. Small town love set in the beautiful mountains of Wyoming. Follow the loves and lives of the men and women of Garnet Junction, Jade Creek and the glamorous Diamond Springs Resort.

  Contents

  FOR WHEN?

  Copyright © 2020 Cara Scott

  Join Me!

  Contents

  1

  Mason

  2

  Maura

  3

  Mason

  4

  Maura

  5

  Maura

  6

  Mason

  7

  Maura

  About the Author

  Mason

  “Wow, Harley Fat Boy. Vintage. Nice.”

  Ava, walks around the classic bike parked inside my boathouse. She looks back over her shoulder to where I’m standing in the open entrance. Maura and my best buddy, Cord, are standing beside me. Ava’s come up from Casper to stay with Maura for Founders Weekend. It’s pretty obvious she has her eye on Cord.

  I reckon she'll be successful. Cord was the one who offered them a ride back from the celebrations at the Diamond Springs Resort. the way things have been between me and Maura these past months, I’m surprised she agreed to even be in the same vehicle. I guess she didn’t have another alternative. Their friends decided to party on into the early hours, leaving them looking for a ride. Seeing as how it’s one of the resort’s busiest holidays, Uber’s were thin on the ground, so Cord’s offer was more necessary than Maura liked.

  When we got back here, Cord insisted they come in for a drink before they head back to Maura’s little ranch house. He’s my houseguest, but we’re close enough that he's comfortable making free with my hospitality.

  Ava looks back at the Harley and then gives me a questioning look. ‘91?”

  “You know your hogs.” I’m impressed. The tall curvy blonde just quadrupled in my estimation. I love that bike. It's my pride and joy.

  She walks around to the front. “You restore it yourself?”

  I nod.

  “Mmm, wow, classic flared fender. Original?” She bends to get a better look.

  I nod again. I flick the light so she can see it. I look at Maura and smile. I can tell that she’s praying Ava won’t notice.

  “Oh, too bad about the dent.” Ava notices.

  I hear Maura’s muffled groan. I stifle a laugh. Of course Ava notices. Everybody does. I can almost hear Maura’s thoughts echo through the night air.

  Why the hell doesn’t he just replace it?

  Because I always love to see her blush. That’s why. She always looks so guilty when the incident comes up.

  A day and evening of celebration, along with the ladies of the cribbage club’s legendary punch, have filled her with bravado. “It’s not really a dent, more of a little ding,” she claims recklessly.

  She looks at me then. I have to work hard to control the quirk of my lips. Her eyes fly up to mine, but I manage to keep them bland. I deliberately shift my attention back to flash Ava a smile. She returns it, along with a hot look.

  Hell no.

  My gut contracts when I think I might be giving Maura’s BFF the wrong idea. Ava is very, very sexy, especially when she's putting on the moves like she is now, but I thought it was my buddy she was interested in. No way do I want to encourage her if I’m the man on her radar.

  Ava echoes what I imagine Maura was thinking earlier. “How did it happen? Why not replace it?”

  Maura holds perfectly still. I wait a bit before I answer, just to tease her some. I deliberately catch her eye and wink before saying to Ava, “That’s a story for another time.”

  Maura glares at me, fuming at the wink, but visibly relaxes when I don’t volunteer the story. I shrug, “I’ve got used to it. Keeps it more authentic, I guess. Nothing should be flawless, right?”

  Cord doesn’t follow my cue. Tilting his head, he looks at Maura and gives her that rugged grin of his. Fixing her with his famous cobalt blues, he teases her with a slow drawl, “Why don’t you tell Ava the story, Maura?”

  I don’t like this. How the hell did things seem to get so turned around? Why is my best buddy getting flirty with the woman I’ve fantasized over for eight years? I’ve wanted Maura from the first moment she crashed her mountain bike into my Fat Boy leaving that dent on the fender. I don’t notice Maura’s response to Cord’s flirting. I’m too eaten up by the emotions crashing through me.

  I’m jealous.

  I'm shocked at the white-hot heat of my jealously as it sears through me. I knew Maura stirred powerful emotions, but I have to fight the impulse to sucker punch my best friend. I don’t wait for Maura’s answer. I turn and walk down the dock straight to the water’s edge. I need to cool off.

  My jealousy eases when Maura ignores Cord’s challenge and follows me down the dock. She joins me, standing by my side, rocking a little drunkenly on the end of the wooden pathway. The night air eases around us. For a few moments we’re cocooned together. It feels peaceful, until she leans forward and peers into the midnight black depths of the creek. I stiffen. Ava and Cord and my stupid jealousy no longer matter. Not when Maura needs protecting.

  “Get back from the end of the dock, Maura.” I tell her. I keep my tone soft. I don’t want to startle her from her precarious position. The creek is dark and deep and the current is swift right here. This dock is for boats. The jetty for the swimming hole, where the water’s calmer, is further up. My heart hammers. She’s had just enough to drink, and is just close enough to the water, that she might tip forward and fall in.

  She eyes me sideways and teeters just a little more. That’s does it for me. Sweeping her up in my arms, I carry her the length of the dock and deposit her in the redwood swing on the lawn. I linger over the action. Her warm curves and sweet scent are too good to let go. Straightening, I let out a slow, deep breath.

  “Hey, what’s your problem?” Maura throws at me, her voice a little slurred. She steadies herself as the seat rocks a little.

  Great! First jealousy and now I’m so pathetically turned on, I have to struggle to regulate my breathing. So much for curbing my feelings.

  “The water’s high tonight. You’re too drunk to swim and none of the rest of us are in any better of a state to fish you out.” I take a deep breath and fix her with a stare as serious as my voice. “Stay there and don’t move any closer to the dock.”

  My gut clenches when I imagine her wandering over to the water’s edge when she gets home. I plunge on with an even stronger edict, “And don’t let me see you anywhere near the creek when you get home, either.”

  There's a shocked silence from Ava and Cord. I know what they’re thinking. You too, I bet. Bossy, alpha a-hole, right? I don’t care. I ignore the atmosphere I’ve created and just stare down at Maura with a dark look.

  Cord coughs and Ava finds her voice.

/>   “Wow, bad cop. Hot!”

  She sidles up to Cord. “So does that make you good cop?” She's blatantly coming on to him. Not missing her invitation, he smiles and moves closer. “Sure. Unless you want me to be bad.”

  They stare at each other. I relax. The other stuff with me and Maura was just riling and random flirting. It is each other they’re after. Time to give them space to get on with it. I take my gaze off Maura and look across at them. “Hate to put a damper on things, but it’s late.”

  Maura stands and walks back up the expanse of lawn in front of the house.

  “Mason’s right. We should get going, Ava.”

  “We’ll walk you back.”

  Maura stops and opens her mouth as if she might protest. I forestall her, putting my arm around her, and deftly guide her in the direction of her ranch house. She stumbles a little against me and then falls into step alongside me on the path. Making our way down the winding trail that joins our properties, we walk in pairs. Cord and Ava stay a little distance behind, exchanging cell numbers and continuing to flirt.

  Maura

  I open my mouth to protest Mason’s intention to walk us back, then think better of it. The set of his jaw, the stance of his tall, ripped body, along with the look in his eye and the way he pushes back on his tawny brown hair, shows this is non-negotiable. My pulse increases and my heart flips at his protectiveness.

  Yeah I know, he’s acting way too alpha, but I have to admit it makes me feel warm and cared for. I reckon it’s down to all the punch I had today. This is a feeling I know I should not allow to creep into my heart, but it’s hard to resist when I’m feeling mellow and his strong arm is supporting me.

  I shiver a little in the late night breeze from the creek. Mason takes off his leather jacket and drapes it over me. It's infused with his body heat and masculine scent. Like his Harley, this supple, worn jacket is a part of him, both staples of his since I first met him eight years ago in college. I try not to make it too obvious that I'm stirred by its presence around me.

  He looks at me suspiciously. “What no protests?”

  I look at him in confusion. “Huh?”

  “Normally you object to my - what is it now? Oh yeah, my ‘throwback’ tactics and remind me we live in the 21st Century. Don’t tell me you’re losing your edge, Michaels.”

  I shrug. “Alcohol enhanced state, I guess. Besides it's chilly.” I draw the jacket around me and add gruffly. “Thanks, it's nice to be looked after now and then.”

  I sense his surprise at my mellow mood. Seems we’re both enjoying the softening in our connection. He puts his arm around me again, pulling me close. I lean into him savoring his warmth. I can’t help breathing him in. He smells good, spicy and male. I shift his jacket around me a bit and decide I need to rally and not leave myself too open around him. “I owe you for that little scene on the dock though. I'm not that drunk. I wasn’t in any danger.”

  “Sure you were.” He shakes his head and I sense a quiet exasperation in his body and tone. “Typical, Maura. Reckless with no sense of how close you are to the edge.” He hesitates and then his voice is gentle. “Speaking of which, you ready to quit the case yet?”

  We've reached the wraparound porch to my home. I tense and hand him back his jacket. Unlike his quiet inquiry, my voice is taut. “Not tonight, Mason. Just don’t start, okay.”

  He sighs. I try not to hear the concern in his voice. “It’s not worth it, Maura. It’s wearing you down. This is the first time I’ve seen you relaxed in months. And it took way too much of the ladies’spunch to do it.”

  “Oh, so now I’m a lush. Mind your own business, Mason. I’ll drink as much as I like and work on any case I please.” Despite my words, my tone is more crushed than angry.

  Heading in the door, I throw over my shoulder to Ava. “I’ll see you inside when you’re ready.” Letting her know I'm okay with her getting it on or whatever with Cord on the enclosed part of my porch, if she's so inclined.

  It turns out she is so inclined. I hear her start to giggle and fumble around with Cord on my wide, padded porch swing, leaving Mason no choice but to walk back to his place. Through the screen door, I look after his figure as he walks quickly back, hands in his pockets. I'm disappointed when he doesn’t turn to look back or wave goodnight.

  I can hardly blame him. We have a long standing, hot and cold, love hate, connection. One we never follow through on. We’ve danced around it ever since we met. It’s recognized by all who know us. Cord is familiar with it and Ava knows of it. Although this is the first time she's met Mason. It’s the first time she’s made the trip up here since I moved back to Jade Creek after my grandparents died, two years ago.

  I’m convinced it’s because I told her Cord was home for a visit and staying next door with his high school buddy. I introduced Ava to Cord at O’Brien’s, his precinct’s bar in Casper, a couple of months ago. She's been asking about him on and off ever since. The last time she asked, I mentioned he’d be staying next door with Mason for Founders Weekend. She immediately suggested she come up to visit.

  It's nice to have her here, whatever the reason. At least this evening’s celebrations were relatively uneventful without any of the heated interchanges Mason and I’ve shared over the past year. The most memorable one was about four months ago when he tried to persuade me not to take my current case. I wouldn’t listen. I told him to shove it in exactly those words.

  Mature I know. Even less mature is the fact that, until he tried to change my mind, I was determined to refuse the case.

  Now my knee-jerk reaction has really come back to bite me. All the reasons he laid out logically in front of me, and I already knew, are making my life miserable. Prosecuting, even only as second chair, in the biggest corporate corruption case my little Wyoming town has ever seen, is pure pressure and I'm not holding up well.

  Other than the Diamond Springs Resort, Gemcor Mining is Jade Creek’s biggest employer. The case against them is generating very mixed feelings among the town’s population. The prosecutor’s office is under fire in a big way and me along with it.

  I'm not sleeping well, my good habits are slipping, and I'm increasingly not paying attention to what I'm doing. My plans to renovate the little ranch house I inherited from my grandparents is close to halted. I can’t remember the last time I went for a run or a swim, and my car is full of discarded coffee cups and junk food wrappers. A testament to the fact that I haven’t had a decent meal in weeks, maybe months. I know I need to get a grip, but I'm not sure how to go about it.

  My current state is compounded by the fact that the case is taking my attention away from the reason I took the prosecutor’s job in the first place. I wanted to gain an understanding of the local justice and legal systems so I could do a better job for the local practice I inherited from my grandad.

  When I arrived back in town, I tried to take over from him. But I soon found out a law degree and interning for a year in a corporate firm in the city doesn’t prepare you to help people in rural communities. Cases like foster kids, domestic abuse, estate sale buy ups and forced sales for taxes. Most of those clients are either distressed or grieving. That makes them vulnerable and easy pickings.

  My grandfather was passionate about getting them as much of the protection and benefits the law can give them. I want to keep up the same standards, but I needed more experience to do that. I figured working for the county was my chance to get it.

  I only intended to give it a year to gather experience of the system from the inside. Then I’d get back to the real work I want to do for the community. Only the Gemcor case killed that. It’s driving me crazy. Dealing with this corporate bullshit is getting in the way of my real vocation.

  Remembering Mason’s concern, I wish I had the courage to let him know how I’m feeling. If only I could confide in him. Maybe we could work together like we did last year. It was right before I took the job at the prosecutor’s office. He came to me for help to defend a foster kid who
’d stabbed one of her foster brothers with the sharp end of her art tool.

  The County D.A. Jim Stevens wanted to put her away in Juvie until she was eighteen, but Mason wasn’t having that. Stevens is from another one of the founding families, but he’s a nasty piece of work. He likes to throw his weight around and abuse his power, especially when it comes to the more vulnerable among us.

  I hate having him as my boss. I always felt the dislike between us was mutual, so I was suspicious about his motives when he offered me the job. I almost didn’t accept the appointment, but in the end the opportunity to have experience in the county office was too good to pass up. Of course now I know why. He knew the Gemcor case was in the offing and he wanted me for the grunt work.

  My stomach clenches when I remember Mason’s reaction when I told him I was thinking of taking the job as assistant county prosecutor. He saw red that I was even contemplating working with Stevens. Our growing closeness during the foster case disintegrated. The breach was compounded a few months later when I rejected his advice not to take the Gemcor case.

  We’ve been in a state of semi-feud ever since. I’ve worked diligently at denying the ache in my heart that state is causing me. Times like tonight, when he’s so gorgeous and protective, I wonder how I ever manage not to fall at his feet, just like I did the day we met.

  Fact is, I’m over my head and need someone’s help and he’s the logical choice. The only one I trust. If I could just drop the Gemcor case without Stevens firing me. That would work both ways. It would lessen my workload and go a good way to making Mason more approachable. As well as let me keep my place at the county prosecutor’s office for another few months.

  Muted moans and pants start emanating from my porch, jolting me out of my misery and musings. Ava and Cord are getting pretty hot and heavy. Leaving them to it, I walk across into my kitchen to set up for some cocoa. I fill a jug of water to fight off dehydration and mitigate our inevitable hangovers. After one last frustrated sigh, I head to the shower.