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MASON

Mason glared at the screen.

Please consider settling on the house, son. Let’s keep the peace.

Keep the peace? That was his mother’s code for “your father and brother run this house and I’m too much of a doormat to do anything about it, so please be compliant.” While she’d never bullied him, she’d allowed it to happen and continued to push for a resolution that victimized him, so he wanted nothing to do with her either.

Parents were supposed to love and cherish their children but Mason’s had missed the memo. Thankfully, Gran had been there to provide him with the kindness he’d needed, balancing the harshness of his home life. She’d been widowed for years by the time Mason was born, living alone and painting in this house, and growing up he’d spent all the time he could with her, trying to escape, taking every scrap of love she’d given him, feeling understood and seen in a way that he never would again. While he hadn’t inherited her sunny disposition, he’d gotten some of her talent, and she’d always encouraged him, buying him his first camera and eventually having the apartment built for him during the last years of her life.

And at the end, when his parents ignored her, he was the one who fed her, carried her from the bedroom to the bathroom, and held her trembling hand as she took her last breath.

Gritting his teeth, Mason grabbed his cell phone. Like hell he’d settle. They deserved nothing.

Using his anger as fuel, he dialed his lawyer before he could chicken out. Of course, Stanley didn’t pick up, and the call went straight to voicemail, making Mason even angrier.

“It’s Mason Hart calling again. I’m forwarding you another email. Call me back.”

Hanging up, he turned his glare on the phone, hoping that Stanley could feel it. Once again, he considered another lawyer, not wanting to be a victim of sunk cost fallacy, but the effort seemed overwhelming.

Rubbing his chin, he sat back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. All he wanted in life was to live off his photos and only deal with people through the camera lens. There wasn’t anything wrong with that dream but he’d had it for a long time, and as he neared his mid-thirties it had begun to feel slightly out of reach. Sure, he’d sold some of his work and a few blogs had featured him, but he hadn’t done a show yet that wasn’t part of a college project, not even a group exhibition, and he wanted that so badly.

Unfortunately, his brain hadn’t been programmed for networking, it had been programmed for repression, for hiding vulnerability, for not letting the people around him know anything because it would be used against him. He knew he was hurting his career but he couldn’t figure out how to fix it.

Sighing, he stood, cracking his neck and trying to relax his jaw. Strolling into the darkroom, he turned on the yellow light and stared at his Rain Wall. It had gotten larger over the last month and he’d learned so much because of it. At one point, he thought he knew everything he needed to know but that stormy gaze had brought out his experimental side, causing him to mix ideas, chemicals, and exposures in masterful ways as he tried to print Rain’s soul.

And he’d have more photos very soon because tonight was another wedding at The Pointe. Weirdly excited to add to his collage, he walked into the hall in high spirits but Rain was nowhere to be found. Snooping around gave him no further answers and he wasn’t about to ask, so he put his head down and went into work mode, hoping that Rain would eventually turn up.

For the next two hours, he swapped between suites, readying the brides for their first look in the foyer. After setting up one with her back to the room, Mason went downstairs to get her soon-to-be-wife and stopped in his tracks when he saw Rain.

Moving to the side so he wouldn’t be seen, Mason quickly snapped off a few photos before realizing that Rain looked tired, not only physically but mentally. Those mysterious eyes had become haunted and wary, and Rain’s demeanor reflected that, for he stayed distant throughout the day. However, once again he seemed to know when the camera focused on him because his shoulders would tighten a bit and his gaze would shift, but someone had dimmed his light.

For some reason it made Mason angrier, as if his mother had ignited a fire that Rain’s condition only added fuel to.

The party ended quickly, and once Mason said goodnight to the brides he found himself lingering in the foyer, taking quick peeks into the main room, where Rain cleared his tables.

“Talk to him. I think he’s into you,” Marci said, appearing next to Mason, and his childhood training kept him from jumping a mile in the air.

“No,” he barked, watching Rain walk into the kitchen with a stack of plates.

She gave him a look .

“Seriously, Mason, grow a pair,” she sighed before flouncing off.

The soft thuds of hiking boots against soil soothed Mason as he walked through the state forest. He needed this outing; it had been taking longer and longer to charge his social battery between weddings and he was starting to burn out. The remedy for that was a hike in the middle of the week where he could relax in the woods, grab some photos, and be alone .

Climbing a short ridge, Mason grunted at the weight of his backpack. A small tripod, a few lenses, and his drone weren’t light, but he’d only taken the essentials, keeping the camera around his neck, and once the land evened out so did his breath.

The ridge ran for another mile and Mason soaked in the silence, noting how the short trees grew more and more sparse until they broke apart for the view, and he came up behind the shelter, going straight to the edge and studying the landscape. Miles of farmland stretched out before him and a lake shimmered in the distance, ready to reflect the sunset. He shaded his eyes, staring up at the sky. There were just enough clouds; hopefully, the colors would be stunning.

Glad that he’d made it with time to spare, Mason turned, shrugging off his gear, but he froze halfway through because he wasn’t alone, and his pack hit the grass with a soft thump.

Curled up inside the shelter, Rain stared back at him with wide, shocked eyes.

Blinking, Mason shook his head and tried again. Nope, not a hallucination. Rain continued to sit there, looking just as confused as Mason felt, and while he appeared more rested, something about him seemed off.

“What are you doing here?” Rain squinted, his words laced with suspicion. “Are you going to kill me?”

Mason frowned at him, the odd question making him bold.

“I’m here to photograph the sunset. Why would I murder you.” He tried to raise his voice at the end, like his Gran had always taught him, but it still sounded like a statement.

“Because you just randomly showed up here.” Tilting his head, Rain’s long dark hair slipped over his shoulder, the strands slowly falling like a curtain. Mason had to concentrate to keep from snapping a picture. “It’s kind of a creepy coincidence.”

“I’m creepy?” That actually sounded like a question.

“I didn’t say you were creepy. I said the situation was creepy. But you know what? You are a little creepy.” Rain shuffled forward and stood, a teasing smirk on his face. “You take pictures of me.”

Mason didn’t rise to the bait. “I take pictures of everyone.”

Smirk still in place, Rain took a few leisurely steps toward him. “Really? Then how many pictures of Dylan do you have? Marci? Angelo? Owen?”

Mason couldn’t help himself; he frowned more deeply and Rain tossed his head back with a laugh.

“It’s okay. I know you do that because you like my face.” He winked and something in Mason’s core rumbled, coming to life. Although he’d wanted to be alone, if he had to choose, then Rain would be the only acceptable company. But why? He’d taken photos of countless people and had never been inspired by them, had never wanted to be around them any longer than necessary. Why was Rain so different?

“I do,” Mason replied factually, and Rain’s answering smile was dangerous.

“Are you flirting with me?”

Mason considered it. “I don’t think so.” Glancing past Rain, he took in the backpack and rumpled blanket on the shelter floor. “Are you camping?”

“Um, yeah,” Rain shrugged, his gaze shifting away. “My mom’s ex-boyfriend used to bring me here. He’s thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail right now and I missed him, so I figured I’d send him a view in return for the ones he’s sent me.” He gestured toward the cliff with elegant fingers. “Didn’t you say you came for the sunset?”

Turning, Mason realized that he’d lost track of time and now had barely a minute to get ready. Without another word, he knelt beside the backpack he’d dropped, glad that it was well-insulated, and took out his gear. Powering the camera on, Mason fine-tuned a few settings, feeling Rain’s eyes on him the entire time. It didn’t bother him; in fact, Rain’s presence only spurred him on, his creativity surging to maximum levels as he snapped the camera into the tripod head, framing his shot and sending the drone up just as the sky bloomed with color.

“Wow,” Rain breathed behind him.

Taking photo after photo on both devices, Mason used the remote to pull the drone up and back, getting video of the glorious sunset. Slowly, the hues drifted from pink to magenta to orange-laced-red, making the sky a true watercolor painting, and Mason captured it all, using Rain's inspiration to try new angles and push past his safety zone.

He could sense a presence next to him and when he looked down, he found Rain staring avidly at the remote.

“That’s what it looks like?” His gaze flicked above them, where a slight buzz gave away the drone’s presence.

“Yes. The screen isn’t as good as the photos.” Mason didn’t like to fly for long because it disturbed the natural wildlife so he brought the drone down and Rain hopped back a few steps as it landed on a rock next to him. Once the blades stopped, he moved closer and Mason swung the camera around, stealing some photos as Rain poked the drone.

Ask him to model, Cricket. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“Do you…” Mason started, but he wasn’t used to asking for things and his throat closed up.

Rain looked up curiously, his smile soft and seductive. “Do I what?”

Breathing in deeply, Mason pointed at the cliff.

“Do I like the view?” Rain’s smile didn’t falter. “It’s gorgeous.”

Forcing away a scowl, Mason reached for the words but they flew away as Rain straightened up and sauntered over, getting a little too close. The scent of ocean air with the faintest hint of lavender teased Mason’s nostrils and he eagerly breathed it in, staring down at Rain, not knowing what to do.

“But you know what? I’ll pose for you. It’s better than you sneaking pictures while I look at the drone.” Reaching up, he ran a finger along Mason’s jawbone, leaving fire in its wake, and the creature in Mason’s core rumbled again, wanting more.

Sitting on a rock near the edge, Rain naturally angled himself until the spill of sunset cradled him in a soft peachy hue, and for a moment all Mason could do was stare. He’d wanted this for so long that having Rain’s full attention caused his mind to spin like a top.

Kneeling, Mason placed Rain at the edge of the frame, took a deep breath, and unleashed it all. In a way, it was like a dance that started the moment Mason had taken his first clandestine photo, but now they faced each other in a perfect tango, Rain intuitively turning and posing, working the camera, and Mason giving him everything in return - lying on the rocks by the edge, streaking him with shutter changes, doing keyhole photos from the middle of a shrub, and he even broke out the drone again for two more quick shots before the colors faded and they lost light.

Chest heaving, Mason shook with creative euphoria; he’d been inspired before but this was a hundred times more intense. Glancing at Rain, who had moved from the cliff to the firepit, he started packing up his gear, trying to hide his trembling hands.

“Thanks.” He wasn’t used to saying that word.

“Sure. It was fun.” The curve of Rain’s lips had Mason’s brain buzzing again. He hesitated to use the word muse but Rain had slowly become his Erato, and he ached to understand why.

Zipping up the pack, he hoisted it, taking note of the way Rain shuffled around the firepit as if he wanted to build a fire but didn’t know where to start. “How long are you staying.”

“One or two nights.” His tone told Mason that it was complicated.

Glancing at the shelter, Mason suppressed a deep frown. Made from wooden logs and raised off the ground, it had three walls and a roof but the front was open towards the view, and even though it was early summer the nights were brisk.

“You don’t have a sleeping bag.”

“That’s okay, I’m used to roughing it.” Rain grinned as if it was no big deal and Mason continued to stare, not knowing what to say until that grin fell away and Rain bit his lip. “Actually, I’m between places now. I’m kind of sleeping at The Pointe.”

Wait. Rain had nowhere to go? That would explain the noise in his gaze and countenance. And how did someone sleep at The Pointe? Had Owen put a bed in one of the offices? Of course, Mason didn’t ask any of those questions, he only nodded as Rain blinked those stormy eyes at him.

“Don’t tell anyone? I mean, Marci probably knows I’ve been sleeping in the storage room because she knows everything, but it’s pretty comfortable and I won’t be there for long.”

Mason’s stomach churned again. Rain was living in a storage room? Most people would be quick to ask if Rain had any friends or relatives, but Mason knew firsthand how family could turn on you, and most people were one unlucky break from being in the same situation. If Mason hadn’t been given his grandmother’s house, he’d be struggling too. His eyebrows twitched, wanting to furrow.

“What do you do when The Pointe is closed.”

Rain spread his hands around him. “This.”

Cricket, that young man should not be sleeping outside when you have three unused bedrooms upstairs.

Sure, Mason had the space but there was one glaring problem - the life-sized shrine to Rain that sat on his darkroom wall. While Rain seemed breezy about things, Mason was certain that he wouldn’t appreciate some of the photos, namely the ones from his threesome.

But then he thought about Rain sleeping alone in the cold darkness with no fire, waiting until The Pointe reopened and it made him…angry? No. Maybe it was concern. He couldn’t quite place it but it was one of the Rain things that made his stomach churn, and somehow he started to speak.

“Do you…” He took a breath. The second he got home he’d run downstairs and lock the darkroom door.

“Do I still like the view?” The way he said it, teasing and lascivious, pulled the rest of Mason’s question free.

“Do you want to sleep at my place.”

Rain’s smile struck Mason across the face, leaving him reeling.

“I thought you’d never ask.”