Fallen Crest Forever (Fallen Crest Series Book 7)(2)

When the phone appeared, we both glanced down. It was Logan, and we shared a look. He’d already called about the footage of the fight being leaked to Mason’s football coach. If he was calling again so soon, it wasn’t good news.

Mason hit the Accept button and put the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”

I started to untangle myself, but his arm just tightened around my back. He didn’t want to let go and, falling a little more in love (if that was even possible), I relaxed against him. My head rested on his chest.

“Are you coming back to Cain tonight?” Logan asked through the phone. He sounded tense.

I frowned, but didn’t lift my head. It felt too right to move.

“Uh . . .”

I looked up.

Mason lifted an eyebrow, wanting to know what I wanted to do.

We just got engaged. Time alone would be nice, though there was a huge crisis hanging over us. I wanted to stay in Fallen Crest, but I said, “We should go back. We won’t relax otherwise.”

He nodded, saying into the phone, “We’re coming back.”

“Good.” Logan sounded relieved. “I know you’re in deep shit because of the fighting, but I might need help with these guys that roughed up Taylor’s friend.”

“The same guy that we had to deal with a crime lord about?” Mason rolled his eyes.

“They beat the shit out of him because he’s gay. They deserve something worse happening to them,” Logan clipped out. “We can be inventive if you don’t want to do a beatdown with me.”

Mason’s voice was strained. “Start brainstorming, because I can’t do anything violent unless it’s on the football field. They’re going to watch me like a damned hawk, and that’s if I’m still allowed to play.”

“You’ll be fine, but yeah, Nate and I will put our thinking hats on. See you when you get here.”

“Yeah.”

Logan suddenly called out, “Hi, Sam!”

I moved closer to the phone. “Don’t get Mason in trouble, please.”

He groaned. “I might start trouble, but he always delivers the knockout punch. There’s a reason we work as brothers.”

Anger glinted in Mason’s eyes. His lips pressed together. “Okay. Be there in a few hours.”

He hung up and looked down at me. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Neither did you.”

“I was letting you make the decision.”

I pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heart beat just on the other side. “I know. Let’s keep our engagement between us for a minute. Once we tell, it’s no longer ours. It’s everyone’s to talk about—and give their opinions about everything.” I tilted back to look up at him. “You know what I mean?”

His eyes darkened. I saw the love there. “I do.” He cupped the back of my neck. “I love you.” His lips found mine.

I closed my eyes, savoring this.

My man.

My other half.

My future husband.

So much lies ahead of us, but he was mine, completely mine, in this moment. My lips moved against his, deepening the kiss, and he tightened his hold on me.





Mason was driving, and I couldn’t stop from looking over and studying him. He wasn’t a boy anymore, not that he’d ever seemed like one. He was a man, and he was going to be my husband. It left me in awe. Forever. Though when had that word not been used to describe Mason and me? Never. But there was still a little voice in the back of my head that worried about repeating our parents’ actions.

“What’s wrong?” Mason asked.

“What?”

He gave me a half-grin, one hand on the steering wheel. “You seem like something’s wrong. Is it the engagement stuff?”

“Yeah.” I pressed a hand to my stomach. There were butterflies in there. “Does that bother you?”

“What? That my dad was a piss-poor husband or that your mom was psycho before?”

“Both.” I turned in my seat, pulling up one of my legs so I could sit sideways with the seatbelt still in place. I rested my head against the seat, watching him fully now.

His lips were perfect. I loved brushing mine against his, feeling his body tighten under my touch. His jawline—oh holy fuck, his jawline. It was strong, and it had made me weak in the knees too many times to count. His eyes, beautiful green that could look right into me. He would turn, see my eyes, and slide inside where he could read my soul. It had been like that in the beginning. It still was.

I never wanted him to stop seeing me.

And his black hair, it was newly trimmed back into a crew cut, but there was just the smallest amount for me to grab hold of it. That only made me salivate more for him. When he held himself above me, his eyes darkening in lust, his shoulders rippling from my touch, I loved how every part of him was defined and cut like a sculpture. He did it for football, training so many hours each day, and the thought of that made my heart hurt.