In His Sights Page 21

  Chapter 24

  Mason rolled out of bed, his muscles stiff. He peered over at a still sleeping Noah, and his heart contracted. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and take Noah back into his arms. And whether he woke the other man up, or they stayed sleeping, it didn’t matter much to Mason as long as they remained close.

  But that couldn’t happen. Not right then. Mason had a mission, and he needed to drag his lazy ass out of bed if he planned to get it done. He’d already lost the whole day yesterday.

  He glanced over at the clock. Shit. It was already 11:00 A.M. The last time he’d checked the clock, it was 05:30 A.M., just after the last time both he and Noah had gotten off. Their third time. Mason’s cock tried to twitch. Its lack of success could definitely be blamed on the night before.

  It’d taken Mason a while to realize a part of Noah’s desire had come from his fear of falling asleep, thus avoiding another nightmare. And even though Noah’s predicament saddened Mason, he hadn’t minded in the least helping tire Noah out.

  Mason’s body tingled along with his mind, recounting the memories of all they’d done. Yeah, it wouldn’t be so tough for him to crawl right back into bed. Mason knew he wore one of those goofy smiles Noah kidded him about, and he didn’t care.

  Mason finished in the bathroom and threw on a new pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt, careful not to make any noise.

  He’d use the time by himself to organize his thoughts. Noah could use the sleep.

  In his office, Mason stared at the pictures on his wall. The faces of terrorists gawked back at him. Mason believed deep down in his soul they were part of a new group—rising at great speeds—who’d first come onto the scene about two years ago by bombing a market in Istanbul.

  Mason took a step back, closed his eyes tight, and swallowed the bile burning the back of his throat. Whenever his mind drifted to the second bombing, he couldn’t help but remember it was more than a hit that had taken out so many civilians, it’d also killed his sister’s husband. Mason pictured his sister’s face when she’d asked how this could have happened. There hadn’t been a war going on in Romania. His brother-in-law should have been safe there. But because of four suicide bombers, and the group who backed them, Tom died and Mason had nothing to give his sister. He’d believed with his whole heart he’d at least catch the group responsible and give his sister closure. But he hadn’t, and now he may never have the chance.

  “Fuck.” Mason punched the wall. Regret washed over him. Not because of the pain throbbing in his fist, he deserved that, but because the noise might have woken Noah.

  Mason opened his office door and listened for a moment. Nothing. Noah still slept. Mason took another deep breath as he closed the door. He needed to pull himself together if he planned to figure this shit out in the days he had left before going back to work—whatever that meant.

  Mason peered at the pictures on the wall again, this time letting his mind drift to the theory the higher-ups at his office believed. Well, not only the higher-ups, also someone from his team. The someone who’d reported him to his boss as being obsessed with the case, causing an ineffective work environment. The someone who had fucked up his chances of finding the group responsible by getting him kicked off the case.

  Mason stopped himself, with his fist pulled back ready to slam the wall. Spackling the first hole would be enough of a project for him.

  He glanced back at the wall, at the eyes staring at him. “There is no way that you fuckers are part of Dendrospis Angusticeps.” All the intel Mason had found did not work with the others’ beliefs that all the attacks, three bombings which Mason knew about, were done by this group, one of several groups hell bent on hurting the United States. It was also the group currently being investigated by at least one third of the organizations currently looking into terrorist activities today. There were two other major players in the terrorist world, and Mason didn’t figure either of them being part of this mess either. No. This was a new group that had slipped under everyone’s radar, it seemed—except Mason’s. Maybe he was delusional. Caught up too close in this shit. Regardless of what everyone else said and did, Mason didn’t believe that for a second. He was the only sane one.

  Now he just needed to prove it.

  He would start by checking to see if anything had happened in the past thirty-two hours since he’d been playing house with Noah. See if he’d missed something. These animals had to mess up eventually. It was only a matter of time, then Mason would do anything possible to take them down.

  He hustled to his desk and started his computer. He had trouble accessing the Bureau’s secure server. Sometimes this happened, but for some reason this time had the hair on the back of his neck standing on edge. He waited fifteen minutes then tried again. He still couldn’t gain access. What the hell?

  Maybe his internet was messed up. He tried a different website, and it loaded without a hitch. That ruled out his router, too.

  He ran into the kitchen and grabbed a drink, figuring to give it a little more time.

  Back in his office, he tried again. Nothing. It was too much of a coincidence this would happen now. His stomach knotted, and his hands fisted. The Bureau had locked him out of their secure server. It had occurred once before; that time, it’d been an accident. This time, no doubt, the Bureau meant it.

  Mason needed to get into the Bureau’s files and check out any new developments he might have missed.

  A sour taste filled his mouth. He only had one option. To head into the lion’s den, regardless that it was sure to be the death of him or his career. How could he show up at work, walk into the building as if it were any other day, then sashay into his office with no one being the wiser? What if his boss saw him? What if anyone who knew he’d been given a mandatory leave saw him? And since he wasn’t exactly sure who knew, how the hell was he supposed to figure out who to avoid? Even his team, for fuck’s sake. He’d only talked to Andrew, and he hadn’t mentioned anything about the rest of the team. Andrew’s only concern seemed to be when Mason planned to come back to the office.

  Mason didn’t have a choice, not if he wanted to figure this shit out in what short time he had left. Not only could he not access any possible new information, he couldn’t get into any of his own files. His only option was to get into his office and get his hard copies. Although God knew how they would suddenly help, since they hadn’t done anything for him thus far. He knew he was missing something, but couldn’t figure out what.

  He peered at his watch again. He couldn’t head to the office before fifteen hundred. By then, the building should have cleared out, at least enough that he’d be able to slink in and out without much fanfare.

  His stomach growled, making him realize he hadn’t eaten anything since he and Noah had gone out the day before. And surprisingly, he’d made it as far as he had without coffee. How had he forgotten that? He headed straight for the kitchen and his magic elixir.

  Once he set the coffee pot, he opened the refrigerator to see what choices he had for breakfast. Deciding he’d wait for Noah to eat, Mason grabbed an orange from the fruit drawer. He’d do with a light snack until Noah woke up, then they could decide together what they’d eat.

  Mason sat at the counter with his sliced orange and coffee. The first sip woke up his taste buds. He picked up his mug, leaving his orange, and headed toward the front door. Peeking out the window, his target lay on the porch. He opened the door, bent down, and picked up the newspaper. Maybe it would help take his mind off what he had to do later.

  He walked back into the kitchen, situated himself, and opened the paper. Before digging in to the grunge, he checked the local section—the anniversary and graduation announcements. He always began there; they both helped to put him in a somewhat better mood. No matter how corny it sounded, he always started his news intake by reading the stories of how couples who celebrated their anniversaries, met. The stories warmed his heart—hearing about people who’d been together for twenty-five years or m
ore. Especially with all the other crap the world dealt with, he enjoyed learning about something good for a change.

  Once done, he moved on to the world news, seeing if anything out of the ordinary he could trace to his terrorist group had happened. He needed access to the Bureau website. He wouldn’t find anything flipping through the local newspaper.

  By the time Mason finished up, another hour had passed. And still not a sound from Noah. Mason fought against heading back in his room and snuggling up with the man. He’d end up waking Noah, and as much as Mason wanted to spend time with Noah, he needed to get his strength back, which meant letting him sleep.

  Mason headed toward his office. He stopped halfway. What had he planned on doing? Sift through everything he’d sifted through a thousand times before? That wouldn’t do anything except get him more worked up about his having to head back to the Bureau. So instead, he slipped into the living room. He could at least listen to a few news channels. Feel like he was actually doing something to help him with his case. It’d be useless, but any little bit of forward momentum would help.

  Within seconds, he felt ready to crawl out of his skin.

  He wasn’t sure which story had him losing track of time, but about two hours later Noah snuck up behind him. He gently kneaded away some of Mason’s tension.

  “Mmmm.” Mason’s head fell forward. “That feels good.”

  “I’m glad.” Noah kissed along Mason’s neck.

  The warmth of Noah’s breath tickled along Mason’s collar.

  “When did you get up?” Mason asked in a half yawn.

  “Just now. Missed you next to me. Missed your warmth.”

  “Mmmm. Sorry. Didn’t want to wake you up. You needed your sleep.”

  “Thank you.” Noah came around the couch, and sat next to him.

  His sleep-filled gaze and tousled hair had Mason smiling. Unable to help himself, Mason moved in close for a kiss.

  Noah quickly covered his mouth. “I still have morning breath.”

  “That’s okay. Kiss me.”

  Noah moved his hand and opened his mouth to Mason’s.

  The kiss wasn’t long, but it was enough to let Mason know Noah felt happy to see him. As if to prove it, Noah’s wide smile led Mason to the same conclusion. Noah moved in to continue the kiss when Mason’s stomach broke the silence, telling both men of Mason’s hunger.

  “Guess it’s time to eat,” Noah said, his smile still on his face.

  Mason’s face heated. “Was waiting for you to get up.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I didn’t mind. Wasn’t really that hungry.”

  Noah’s smile grew. “I think your stomach has a different opinion.” Noah stood up and held his hand out.

  Mason grabbed it and stood. Noah raised his other hand to Mason’s jaw, then leaned in and kissed the corner of Mason’s mouth. The sweetness in the move caused Mason’s heart to skip a beat. Before he did or said something to scare Noah, Mason turned around, still holding Noah’s hand and headed toward the kitchen.

  Noah made a show of sniffing the coffee. “I definitely want some of that.”

  “Me, too. We’ll have to make a new pot. There’s not much left.”

  “I’m on it.” Noah lifted Mason’s hand to his mouth, placed a kiss on his knuckle, then let go and strode over toward the coffee pot.

  The skin on Mason’s hand tingled. His heart would have real trouble if Noah kept at it. Although heart trouble wouldn’t be a bad way to go, if Noah caused it.

  As Noah moved about, making the coffee, Mason headed back to the pantry. “What are you thinking for breakfast?”

  “It’s almost lunch time, isn’t it?”

  Mason peeked at the clock. “Yeah. How hungry are you?”

  “Pretty.”

  “I took a steak out yesterday. We can eat that now? Then have a snack or something later.”

  “Sounds great. Meat’s always good.” With the words, a lewd smile washed over Noah’s face. Mason knew exactly what Noah had on his mind. Mason’s body heated.

  “You want to get the meat, and I’ll start the coals?” Noah asked.

  “Sure, thanks. I’ll rub some spices on it and bring it out.”

  Noah grabbed the lighter out of one of the drawers and headed outside.

  Mason joined Noah as soon as he finished with the meat. He put it on the table and moved over next to Noah.

  “I’m glad we’re cooking this now, later will be a little hectic,” Mason said.

  Noah moved the coal around with the poker. “What do you mean, hectic? What’s happening?”

  “Got a couple errands I have to take care of before we head over to the shooting range.” Mason picked at his fingernails as his gaze roamed around the room, glancing anywhere but at Noah.

  * * * *

  “Oh. Okay.” Mason’s demeanor had Noah wanting to ask what exactly the errands were, but he held back, instead feigning focus on the charcoal.

  “I think they’re ready.” Mason turned to grab the meat. He seemed to relax. Maybe Noah read more into the errands than he should.

  With the meat cooking and Mason still focused on the cooker, he asked, “You want soda, or would you rather take your caffeine in coffee form?”

  “Soda works. Thanks.”

  Mason came back with the soda and held it out to Noah. As Noah leaned in to grab the can, so did Mason, pecking a quick kiss on Noah’s lips. Then Mason moved back, his eyes closed, and a smile on his face. “Mmm.”

  Noah craved more. He leaned closer, this time taking the kiss further. His lips locked onto Mason’s. Noah’s tongue quickly searched for its mate. Mason’s flavor ignited Noah from the inside. He couldn’t get enough. Their tongues moved as if doing battle, both fighting for space, neither willing to give.

  A puff of smoke blown in their direction had Noah releasing Mason, but not before he first nibbled on Mason’s bottom lip. Mason’s dazed expression had Noah on the verge of ignoring their mission and taking Mason in his arms for more than just a kiss. Instead, using all his strength, Noah held his ground. Noah stared at Mason as the haze engulfing Mason evaporated. Noah couldn’t help but smile as Mason’s complexion turned red, obviously having nothing to do with the heat from the barbeque.

  Before acting on his impulse again, Noah tore his gaze off Mason and brought it back to the meat. He flipped the steak, then brought all his attention back to Mason.

  Mason tilted his head up to the sky. “I can’t believe what a beautiful day it is. Unfortunately, rain is expected for the rest of the week.”

  “Glad we’re cooking out. Making the best of it.” Noah faced the meat while from the corner of his eye he watched Mason. His body went stiff again.

  Noah stood about to ask Mason what was going on, when Mason spoke. “After we’re done, I need to head into work for a bit.”

  Noah shook his head. Had he heard Mason wrong? Noah turned toward Mason and found all of Mason’s attention focused on his feet.

  “What?” Noah asked.

  Mason froze and kept his gaze downcast. “I need to run to headquarters for a bit.”

  Noah was about to ask what the hell for, but just barely caught himself. Noah wasn’t supposed to know Mason wasn’t wanted there. And even if Noah hadn’t known, he might have become a little suspicious with the way Mason announced the fact: with his head bowed, his refusal to make eye contact, and his voice softer than a whisper. Caught in his own head, Noah startled out of his thoughts to find Mason staring at him, Mason’s head tilted, and his eyes narrowed.

  “What?” Mason asked.

  Noah quickly recovered. “Guess we’re not heading to the shooting range.”

  “Yeah. I’ll be quick. Just have to pick something up.”

  “All right.” Noah checked the underside of the meat. “So what time do you want to head out?”

  “Huh?”

  Noah peered at Mason as he pointed toward the new plate Mason had brought out with the sodas. “W
ant to head out right after we eat?” Noah asked.

  “No.”

  The word came out harsh, startling Noah.

  Before Noah asked Mason what he meant, Mason grabbed the plate from Noah. “Let me run in and slice this.”

  Noah stood dumbfounded as Mason rushed into the house. Noah shook his head. The steak had nothing to do with Mason running away. No doubt it had something to do with Mason heading to his office and the fact he wasn’t supposed to show his face at the building. The man was on edge and that put Noah on edge. Questions Noah wanted answered filtered through his head. The first one, why was it so important Mason go to work? And the second, why was Mason keeping the fact he was suspended such a closely guarded secret? Mason had to know Noah knew how hush-hush Mason’s job was, and that Noah wouldn’t ask him any questions that would put Mason in an awkward position.

  Before Noah could analyze either, Mason stood at the French doors, calling Noah to come inside—and from the expression on his face, he was shut down, and not going to give Noah any of the answers himself.

  Noah strode inside, and found the table set, the meat in the center along with sugar snap peas and corn.

  Both men sat down. Mason focused silently on the food. Not sure what to say, Noah stayed quiet, too.

  Halfway through the meal, Mason broke the silence. “I’ll come back and pick you up when I’m done.”

  “You plan to be gone that long?”

  “No. I told you I’d be quick. Just need to pick something up.”

  “Okay. So why don’t I come with you? It’s stupid for you to come back—”

  “You can’t.” Mason cut Noah off, and the tone of Mason’s voice left little room for argument. Mason turned his focus back to his food. He took a deep breath as if to pull himself together.

  “By the time I secure you a visitor’s pass, I’ll be done.”

  “I’ll sit in the car and—”

  “Why don’t you take the bike and meet me.”

  That shut Noah right up. He’d love the opportunity to drive the bike—but still…“As awesome as that sounds, wouldn’t it be easier if we drove together? I don’t mind hanging for a bit.”