Mason James (Heartbreakers & Heroes Book 2)
Table of Contents
Mason James
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Ciana Stone
Mason James
Heartbreakers & Heroes – Book 2
Mason James
Heartbreakers & Heroes Book 2
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Mason James Copyright © 2017 Ciana Stone
Cover art by Syneca
Edited by Mary Harris
Electronic book publication 2017
Print book publication 2017
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Syneca Featherstone.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Dedication:
For my honeyman – you are still the one.
And for my bestie, Rita, for always being there to share a laugh or a cry and
for reminding me to always write from the heart
because that’s where the best stories live.
Chapter One
Savannah pulled her iPad from her oversized bag and checked to make sure no one was paying attention before opening her email and choosing the address of her best friend, Stacy who dealt in international law and was always on the go.
Hey girl,
I sure wish you were here right now, or at least in the country so I could pick up the phone and call. I don’t even know how to start to tell you what I’m feeling right now so let’s start with the mundane—the “what’s going on” things.
First, the house I’m renting from Charli Judd is so adorable, I made her an offer on it. I mean, it’s a little smaller than what I’d consider ideal, but I found this really great contractor who said I could easily add on. The real point is, I love the place and I hope when you get back to the States you can find some time to come visit.
Cotton Creek is, and isn’t, exactly what I expected. When Analise invited me to come here, I was thrilled. I still feel like I need to pinch myself to make sure it’s real. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read her books and what a fan girl I’ve been. To be able to write with her is like a dream come true.
This place is the quintessential small Texas town. The people are friendly, decent, and honest and of course, everyone knows everyone. If you’re a newcomer, you definitely stand out, but for the most part people are quite accepting and make you feel right at home.
But then I’ve told you all this, haven’t I? A dozen times or so in the three months I’ve been here? Yeah, I’m avoiding diving into what prompted this email. Okay, bear with me. I’ll get there.
So, you remember me telling you all about this huge oil field thing that went bust? Well, it didn’t go bust. It was a fracking site and when there was one issue and fear of water contamination, the owners, the Legacy family, ordered the whole thing to come to a stop.
I have to give them credit. They could have made billions, and yet they let environmental concerns take precedent. Picture me giving them high fives and cheering. They redid everything and now are pumping millions of gallons of natural gas and have retasked some of the land for windmill farms. They’re employing a lot of people and thanks to all that, this and other surrounding counties are flourishing.
Someone even started a dance studio in town. Well, it’s not a bona fide studio. The guy who does it rents out the Legion hall when it’s not being used. And the classes are what you’d expect—you know, learn to ballroom dance, and cha-cha and Salsa and all that jazz. A friend I’ve made here talked me into signing up. I went once and… Well, I went once and we’ll get back to that.
Right now, I’m sitting in the local high school auditorium, watching rehearsal for a musical the local theatre group is doing. Get this. There will be dancing and they will try to make it dirty. Yep, you guessed it. Every woman over the age of 40’s “big sigh” film. I know, I know. No one can ever do justice to Johnny, right?
W R O N G. And I mean O M G wrong.
Which brings me back to what prompted this email and why I only went to one dance class.
Mason James.
Stacy, I swear to God I’ve never seen a man like him before. Well, maybe I have. And maybe it’s not his looks, although he is F I N E (in huge font). But what makes him so lethal is that he is playing the part of Johnny and my God.
HE CAN MOVE.
I mean mesmerize you, turn you into a vibrating pile of female need, make you daydream about all kinds of “dirty.” Honestly, I can’t even blink when I’m watching him. How can a man move that…sexy?
My friend has been bugging me to go back to the dance lessons but I can’t. I don’t just have two left feet around him, I have two left feet in combat boots. With glue on the bottom. Or mud. Thick, suck your feet to the bottom of the muck, mud.
Okay, I can see you. I know that expression and I know what you’re thinking. Why am I getting so worked up over some dude who works in a dance studio? In Bumfuck, Texas, no less. I’m a successful businesswoman and a newly crowned bestselling writer who has sold the film rights to her first novel and the next series that isn’t even published. What’s the big deal with a dance teacher in Cotton Creek Texas?
The big deal is… Mason James makes me want to rip his clothes off and lick him all over.
There, I’ve said it. Ms. I-Don’t-Need-a-Man-and-Never-Get- Horny vanished the day I saw him dance and now sex is all I can think about. And damn it all, for a man who doesn’t even know I exist.
How pathetic is that? Help!!!
Your pitiful friend in Cotton Creek,
Savannah
Savannah’s finger was poised over the button, ready to hit Send, but she paused, stared at the screen for a few moments, and then deleted the email. Writing the confession would have to be catharsis enough; there was no way she was actually going to let anyone read it.
So rather than hit send, her finger moved the cursor to the trash symbol to delete the email. Just then, the music changed. She looked up and damn if she wasn’t frozen, unable to do anything but watch as Mason walked onto the stage.
When he finished his routine, every female there clapped and cheered, and within moments, he was surrounded by women, young and all, all trying to touch him or get closer.
Savannah watched and felt her self-esteem plummet. What was she doing there? She wasn’t a twenty-something nymphet who could gyrate like a top. She wasn’t a dancer or perf
ormer, she couldn’t sing, and couldn’t even paint backgrounds.
So why was she there? Was it really for research for a book? For a moment, she considered it, then shook her head, crammed her iPad in her bag and stood. She was supposed to be finding the inspiration for a tale of adventure, action, danger, and chemistry between characters that lit a fire and led to the kind of passion every woman dreams of.
Not the sad tale of a woman who lusted for a man way out of her league.
Chapter Two
Jayce Weathers held up his hand as Mason entered the diner. Mason saw him, smiled, and made his way to the table. It took a bit longer than he’d like, but there were a good many of his female students in the diner and it seemed that they all wanted to say good morning.
“Sorry,” he apologized as he took at seat across from Jayce.
“Man, you’ve got every woman in town headed for the beauty shop and spa twice a week to get curled, dyed, plucked, waxed, and polished.”
Mason rolled his eyes, then looked up at the waitress who approached their table with a big smile on her face. “Morning, gentlemen. Mason, what’re you having to drink, hon?”
“Coffee.” He looked at Jayce. “Have you ordered?”
“Yeah, but told them to hold off ‘till you got here.”
“I appreciate that.” He turned his attention back to the waitress. “Steak, medium rare, two eggs, boiled, and a sweet potato if you have it.”
“You know we do. Be right back with your coffee.”
“Thanks, Sandy. You’re the best.”
After she hurried away, Mason turned his attention back to Jayce. “So, did you have a look at the place?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“And it’s gonna take a bit of work to get it back up to snuff, buddy. The place has been empty for what, five years?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, places that sit for that long start to develop problems.”
“Problems that can’t be fixed?”
“Oh no, they can be fixed.”
“Okay, I get it. It’s not going to be cheap. Ballpark it for me.”
“Fifteen thousand.”
Mason leaned back in his chair. He’d been back in Cotton Creek for almost two months, and was sick and tired of living in town. He’d rented the bottom floor of Nellie Mae Baker’s house, but that wasn’t working too well. That woman couldn’t keep her nose out of other people’s business, or herself out of his space.
He needed to get the old homestead livable, but had hoped it would take less work. Still, he had to have a home and his parents’ old place would be perfect. It was small, but on the lake, outside of town where it was quiet. There was a small paddock, a four-stall barn, and fifty acres, so he could have horses if he wanted, and he did. Despite everything he’d experienced and the life he’d lived all over the world, he’d missed Cotton Creek. He needed to get back to a normal lifestyle.
Actually, it wasn’t a matter of need so much as necessity. He’d walked away from his career and had to figure out how to build a life doing something completely different from what he’d done for the last twenty years.
“Fine. Let’s do it.” It would be worth the wait and he could tolerate being at Mrs. Baker’s for a while longer.
“Let me get you a contract.”
“A handshake will do.” Mason extended his hand across the table to Jayce. “I’ll have half the money for you this afternoon, if that’s enough to get you started.”
“More than enough. I’m gonna need to consult you on particulars.”
“You know where to find me.”
“You mean dancing dirty in the high school auditorium?”
Mason knew Jayce was poking fun and wasn’t offended. Hell, he understood. He’d spent most of his life in Cotton Creek. He and Jayce had grown up together, gone to school together, and hung out together. Mason had known Jayce his whole life
When Mason left for college on an academic scholarship to MIT, he’d never imagined he would end up working for the government.
He’d finished his undergraduate degree in three years and worked his way through his doctorate. Halfway through the doctoral program he was recruited by the DSS, or United States Diplomatic Security Service.
The DSS is the security and federal law enforcement arm of the Department of State and the lead United States law enforcement organization abroad. Its duties include protecting visiting foreign dignitaries, American diplomats, and diplomatic missions, conducting criminal, counterterrorism and counterintelligence investigations abroad and advising United States ambassadors on security matters, along with managing or implementing security programs worldwide.
Mason was of interest because of his propensity with languages. He spoke seven fluently and picked up a new language with such ease that within months spoke like a native of the region.
He was also athletic, had excelled in gymnastics in college, and could dance. As odd as it was, the dancing and language skills were at the top of the list of what marked him as having potential. Being selected was a thrill and it hadn’t ended there. He’d found himself courted by the CIA, trained by the best military teams in the country, and then enjoying a career that most people would envy.
Those days were gone and he had to look to the future, so Mason turned his thoughts away from the past. “Hey, don’t point the finger at me. I suggested about five other musicals, but those gals were dead set on that one.”
“Yeah, I guess they all secretly dreamed of being Baby.”
“I guess, but whatever the case, it’s what we’re doing and if we’re really lucky, it will only suck.”
“As opposed to?”
“Suck big, loud, and long.”
Jayce laughed and Mason chuckled as well. “Man, when I was a kid, I figured I’d grow up and work the rigs like my dad. Have a few head of cattle, some horses, find me a little gal, settle down, and have a family.”
“Things don’t always go the way we thought they would.” Jayce agreed. “Hell, look at me. Until a couple of years ago, I thought I was doomed to be single. Then Callie showed up with her little girl, Lily, and my whole life changed.”
“That Callie is a hell of a woman,” Mason commented. “Smart, and my God is she talented. I can’t believe she turned down a recording contract to marry you and stay here. No offense, but that was a big deal.”
“Yeah, it was. And I never forget what she gave up.”
“She seems to think you’re worth it. And man, Lily is something. The other day, she and Callie came in the leather shop and she must’ve asked a hundred questions. And not foolish ones.”
“Yeah, Callie told me you gave her a kit to make a cell phone holster and Lily’s working on it to give to me for my birthday. That was nice of you, Mason.”
“She’s a great kid, and her face just lights up when she talks about her dad. I get the feeling the sun rises and sets on your shoulders, man. You have to love that. And your little boy, Lucky is a pistol. A year old and not just walking, but running.”
“Oh yeah, he doesn’t burn daylight, that’s for sure. He’s on full steam from the time he wakes up until he drops over.”
“Drops over?”
“Yeah, he goes until he’s done and then he just lays down wherever he is and it’s lights out for eight hours.”
“You’ve got a great family, Jayce. I envy you.”
“Well, there’s nothing stopping you from finding a good woman and settling down.”
That comment sent a dark cloud into the mental sky of Mason’s morning. He seemed to have quite a talent for picking the wrong women and had reached the point where he wondered if it wouldn’t be smart to just stop trying.
“Except that I can’t find the right good woman,” he replied.
“Well, from what Callie tells me, that writer lady, Savannah Harper, the friend of Annie Morgan’s who is here to work on a book with her? Seems she’s been seen quite a few times watching rehearsa
ls.”
“I can’t say that I’ve actually seen her there, but I’m usually pretty busy. And Riley said she was there for research on a book. She did leave me a note the other day asking if she could hire me to answer some questions—research stuff.”
“What did you say?”
“I haven’t called her yet.”
“Maybe you should. She’s hot.”
“But is she single?”
Jayce’s eyebrows rose. “Good question. I don’t think anyone has ever mentioned that. I guess you could ask.”
Mason shrugged and looked up as the waitress returned with their breakfast. “Maybe I will.”
Or not, he thought. He knew who she saw, and the lady looked like one of those hot intellectuals. The type who would slice you to ribbons with their words and leave you bleeding in the street. And she just might be smart enough to figure out that his skills as a leather worker were not all that advanced. He knew the basics and was learning, but at present was far from an expert.
He couldn’t imagine she’d be interested in a leather shop owner and part-time dance teacher, which is all he’d revealed of himself since his return.
Still, there was something about her that made him wonder if Savannah was as cold beneath the surface or if that frost concealed a heat she didn’t let show.
That thought turned his thinking just a bit. It might be interesting to find out if there was any heat under that ice. After all, nothing was going to happen in terms of them getting emotionally involved.
They were just too different.
Chapter Three
Savannah watched Riley as he leaned down to kiss Annie. “I told Cody the band would do a set at the Honky Tonk Angels bar tonight. How about I treat you ladies to a fine barbecue dinner beforehand?”
“You had me at ‘do a set’,” Annie replied and looked at Savannah. “You in?”
“Honky tonk, barbecue, and Riley Morgan singing? I think I could soldier through.”
Riley laughed, gave Annie another kiss, and straightened. “See you ladies later.”