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two

Meadow

Finally, my shift ends. I race home, shedding my scrubs and grabbing my medical bag. My phone buzzes as I text Elle with an On my way.

The drive to her place is mercifully short. I pull up to a modest house, a miniature version of the grand residence looming behind it. Must be the guest house.

I haul my equipment from the car, grateful for once that it’s only a small set of stairs. My arms still ache as I lug the heavy bag up each step.

“Elle?” I call, knocking on the door. Elle is the one that comes to the door and opens it. “Evening! How are you feeling?” I ask her, smiling.

She rubs her stomach. “Much better, thanks!” She does look a ton better, no longer as pale and with some color to her face.

Christopher is standing behind her and he nods at me.

“Wow, your place is gorgeous,” I tell her, wanting to make her feel more comfortable by making small talk.

“Follow me,” she tells me, and I follow her to a room. She sits down on the edge of the bed and I open my case that is stocked full of everything we may need.

“You’re looking so much better already,” I tell her, referring to the way she looked when I first saw her at the hospital. Her labs were awful but now she seems to be on the right path, thankfully.

It’s mind-blowing that someone tried to hurt her, and they succeeded in some ways. Though I can see the strength she has and I know she will pull through it.

“I feel it,” she tells me.

I smile at her happily. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

I go through the motions of checking her vitals, making sure everything is normal, and question if she has any pain or nausea.

“Did you get your prescriptions filled?” I ask her, starting to close up my case.

“Yep, all set!” she confirms, then she gives Christopher a side glance. “Quick question, is sex okay?”

Christopher covers his laugh and I try to push down my humor at how embarrassed she looks. “Sex is absolutely fine.” I wink at her and she blushes harder. I start to roll my case toward the door. “I will be back in a couple of days but if you have any questions, please call me.”

We exit the room and I’m hit with an amazing scent of food cooking. My stomach growls loudly.

Just as I start to pass the kitchen, Mason comes out of it with his eyes on me. “Hi, Meadow.”

I swallow hard at the sound of his voice saying my name. “Oh, hi!”

I glance back at Elle and Christopher, their matching grins telling me everything I need to know. Elle’s thumbs-up is the final confirmation—they set this up. Sneaky bastards.

Mason’s voice pulls me back. “Are you single?”

His intense gaze bores into me, waiting for an answer. My heart races.

Two can play this game.

I arch an eyebrow, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Why do you want to know?”

Mason’s lips twitch, a cocky smirk spreading across his face. “Because I want you.”

Shit. My stomach does a backflip.

He steps closer, his scent, leather and something spicy, enveloping me. “This dinner? It’s just the start. I’m not stopping until you say yes.”

Heat floods my cheeks. I struggle to form words, my brain short-circuiting at his proximity. His eyes never leave mine, challenging, daring me to respond.

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. “Pretty confident, aren’t you?”

Mason’s smirk widens. “I know what I want.”

My pulse pounds in my ears. I’m hyperaware of every inch between us, the air crackling with tension.

“And if I say no?” I manage to ask, surprised by how steady my voice sounds.

He leans in, his breath hot against my ear. “Then I’ll just have to work harder to convince you.”

I fight the urge to lean into him, to close that maddening gap.

“Meadow,” he murmurs, my name a caress on his lips. “Have dinner with me.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement, laced with promise and heat.

I should say no. I should walk away. But as I meet his gaze, I know there is no way I can.

I would be lying to myself if I didn’t like him or said I haven’t liked him for years.

Mason grins and he knows I’m giving in. He takes my hand.

“Your dinner is on the coffee table,” Mason calls over his shoulder to Elle and Christopher. “The dining room is off-limits.”

He tugs me forward, leading me into the dining room. Soft candlelight flickers, casting a warm glow over an intimate table set for two. Mason pulls out a chair, his hand lingering on my lower back as I sit. The touch sends shivers up my spine.

“I hope you like Italian,” he says, taking his seat across from me. “I made everything myself.”

I raise an eyebrow, impressed. “You cook?”

His smile is both proud and a little shy. It’s… adorable. “One of my many hidden talents.” He throws in a wink, and suddenly ‘adorable’ is the last word on my mind.

We dig into the meal. I can’t help stealing glances at him. The candlelight plays across his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw. This is romantic. Intimate. He’s put in so much effort.

“Have you always wanted to be a doctor?” Mason asks.

I swallow my bite before answering. “I’ve always wanted to be in the medical field. But helping women in their most vulnerable times, being there for them… that’s what drew me to obstetrics.”

His face grows soft. “I’m proud of you for accomplishing all that you have, I can tell you love it.”

I smile widely, thinking of all of the cute babies I get to deliver. “All of the cute babies are a huge plus, but it is hard because sometimes it’s not always a good ending.”

My throat grows tight thinking of the times when babies came into the world not breathing.

Mason scoots closer to me. “I’m sorry.”

“But the good outweighs the bad,” I point out, and he takes my hand that’s resting on the table into his strong, tattooed ones.

The stark contrast between us is vivid, his rough, inked hands enveloping my smaller, softer one.

“I can see that,” Mason says softly, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. “Your strength, your compassion… it’s written all over you.”

His words warm me from the inside out.

“What about you?” I ask, desperate to know more about this enigmatic man. “What drives you?”

Mason’s eyes darken, a shadow passing over his face. “Protecting what’s mine. Making sure the people I care about are safe and happy. The MC is in my blood, it’s all I ever wanted.”

There’s a weight to his words, a hint of something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. It should scare me, but instead, it sends chills through my body knowing that he has a dark side.

I nod, absorbing his words. The intensity in his eyes captivates me, hinting at depths I’m eager to explore. We finish our meal, the conversation flowing easily between us. As Mason clears the plates, a mischievous glint appears in his eye.

“How adventurous are you feeling tonight?” he asks, a roguish grin spreading across his face.

My pulse quickens. “What did you have in mind?”

He extends his hand, pulling me to my feet. “How about a ride?”

“Hell yeah.”

We practically run out of the house together, with the sky starting to turn a beautiful shade of purple and orange.

His bike stands gleaming in the driveway. It’s a Harley-Davidson Road King, its sleek black paint job catching the last rays of the setting sun. Chrome accents shine like liquid silver.

He swings his leg over the seat, settling in with ease.

Mason hands me a helmet, his fingers brushing mine as I take it. “Safety first,” he says with a wink.

I slide the helmet on, adjusting the strap under my chin. My heart races as I climb onto the bike behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. The leather of his jacket is cool against my cheek as I press against his back.

“Hold on tight,” he instructs, his voice a low rumble.

The engine roars to life, vibrating through my entire body. We peel out of the driveway, the wind whipping around us. The world blurs as we speed down the street, houses and trees melting into a kaleidoscope of colors.

I tighten my grip on Mason, feeling the solid warmth of his body against mine. The thrill of the ride, the closeness of his presence, it’s intoxicating. I can’t remember the last time I felt this alive, this free.

We wind through the outskirts of town, the roads becoming more twisted and rural. The sky deepens to a rich indigo, stars beginning to twinkle overhead. Mason handles the bike with effortless skill, leaning into the curves with a grace that takes my breath away.

After what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, we slow down, turning onto a dirt path.

The bike comes to a stop at the edge of a clearing. Mason cuts the engine, and suddenly the world is quiet except for the chirping of crickets and our slightly labored breathing.

“We’re here,” Mason says, his voice low and intimate in the gathering darkness.

I slide off the bike, my legs a bit wobbly from the ride. Mason steadies me with a hand on my lower back, the heat of his touch seeping through my clothes.

“Where exactly is ‘here’?” I ask, looking around. We’re surrounded by trees, their leaves rustling gently in the evening breeze. Ahead, the clearing opens up to reveal a breathtaking view of the valley below, city lights twinkling in the distance.

Mason takes my hand, leading me toward the edge. “My secret spot. Not many people know about it.”

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, taking in the panoramic view.

“Yeah, it is,” Mason agrees, but when I glance at him, he’s not looking at the view. His eyes are fixed on me, dark and intense.

My face flushes red from the intensity of his stare. I tuck my hair behind my ear and turn back to the beautiful view.

In the distance you can hear the sounds of cars driving on the parkway but it’s peaceful.

This town is much larger than the one I grew up in, and I know my family’s MC wanted it that way.

It’s not lost on me that we are in the middle of nowhere and this would be the perfect opportunity for me to be chopped into bits by Michael Myers popping out of the creepy woods.

The tree limbs move with the breeze, causing a rustling sound, and I study the darkness of the trees, almost daring myself to see something.

Nervously, I lick my lips and try not to show that I’m a total chicken.

Going to a haunted forest is one thing I will never do willingly, but right now I’m living one.

I can feel him staring at me because I can’t stop looking over my shoulder.

But I’m preparing myself to jump off the cliff before I let someone get me.

I look back again when I hear the crack of a stick breaking and jump, falling straight into Mason.

He bursts out laughing, wrapping his arms around me. “What’s the matter with you?”

I feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment, but I can’t help laughing along with Mason. His arms around me feel safe, solid.

“Nothing,” I mutter, trying to pull away, but Mason’s arms tighten around me.

“You’re jumpy,” he observes, amusement lacing his voice. “Afraid of the dark?”

I scoff, attempting to salvage my dignity. “Of course not. I’m a grown woman.”

“Mhm,” Mason hums, unconvinced. His breath tickles my ear as he leans in close. “So, you weren’t imagining some masked killer lurking in the shadows?”

I stiffen in his arms, and he chuckles. “Busted.”

“Okay, fine,” I admit, relaxing against him despite myself. “Maybe I have an overactive imagination. Sue me.”

Mason’s laugh rumbles through his chest, vibrating against my back. “It’s cute,” he says, his voice softening. “But you don’t have to worry. Nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m here.”

The conviction in his voice sends a chill down my spine that has nothing to do with fear. I turn in his arms, looking up at him. In the moonlight, his eyes are dark pools, drawing me in.

“Is that a promise?” I whisper.

Mason’s hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb tracing my lower lip. “You bet your ass it is.”

The tension between us snaps. In an instant, his lips are on mine, hot and demanding. I melt into him, my arms winding around his neck as I return the kiss with equal fervor. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I moan, pressing closer.

Mason’s hands roam my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He backs me up until I feel the cool metal of his bike against my legs. In one fluid motion, he lifts me, setting me on the seat. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him flush against me.

“Meadow,” he groans, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down my neck. “God, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Me too,” I gasp, arching into him as he nips at my pulse point. “Mason, please.”

He pulls back, his eyes searching mine. “Are you sure? We can stop.”

I cut him off with another searing kiss. “Don’t you dare,” I breathe against his lips.

A wicked grin spreads across Mason’s face. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, before claiming my mouth once more.

As we lose ourselves in each other, the stars twinkling above and the city lights below, I realize I’ve never felt safer or more alive than I do right now, in Mason’s arms.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoes through the clearing. I yelp, clinging tighter to Mason.

He laughs loudly, holding me close. “Just a branch breaking, sweetheart. Nothing to worry about.”

I laugh shakily, burying my face in his chest. “God, I’m such a scaredy-cat.”

Mason tilts my chin up, his eyes soft in the moonlight. “I think it’s adorable.” He grins, that cocky smirk that makes my knees weak. “But we should probably head back before you have a heart attack out here.”

I smack his arm playfully but don’t argue. As much as I’m enjoying our time alone, the woods at night are starting to creep me out.

I turn on the seat, settling into the correct riding position, and it’s not lost on me that I’ve soaked my leggings and probably his seat.

To my surprise he takes me to my apartment and not back to Elle and Christopher’s. “Did you forget about my car?” I ask, amused, while hopping off the back.

I take off the helmet and I know I have a serious case of helmet hair right now.

“I don’t want you driving this late, darlin’, plus I can see you’re exhausted,” he points out, and he is not lying.“Do you work in the morning?” he asks me, and I shake my head no.“Well, how do you feel about me asking you out to breakfast, and we can grab it on the way back?”

I really like that idea, that he wants to see me again. “I’d like that.”

Mason’s smile widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s a date then.”

He walks me to my door, his hand resting on the small of my back. The warmth of his touch lingers even as I fumble for my keys.

“Thanks for tonight,” I say, turning to face him. “I had a great time.”

“Me too,” Mason replies, his voice low and husky. He steps closer, crowding me against the door. “But I’m not ready for it to end just yet.”

My breath hitches in my throat as he leans in, his lips brushing mine softly. The kiss is gentle at first, a stark contrast to our heated encounter earlier. But it quickly deepens, Mason’s hand tangling in my hair as he presses me more firmly against the door.

I moan into his mouth, my keys clattering to the ground as I grip his shoulders. Mason’s other hand slides down to my hip, pulling me flush against him. The hard planes of his body against mine send a jolt of desire through me.

Finally, breathless, we break apart. Mason rests his forehead against mine, his breathing as ragged as my own.

“I should go,” he murmurs, though he makes no move to step away. “Before I can’t bring myself to leave.”

I nod, not trusting my voice. Part of me wants to invite him in, consequences be damned. But the rational part of my brain knows we should take things slow.

Mason bends down to retrieve my fallen keys, pressing them into my hand. His fingers linger on mine, the touch sending goosebumps up my arm.

“Sweet dreams, Meadow,” he says, his voice rough with desire. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

With one last searing kiss, he turns and walks away. I watch him go, my body still humming with arousal. As I let myself into my apartment, I can’t help but wonder what tomorrow will bring. One thing’s for sure, breakfast with Mason is going to be anything but boring.

* * *

MASON

I waited until I heard her door lock before I left her front porch and headed to the clubhouse to do a check-in.

We have had some fucked-up shit happening with Elle, girls have been going missing, and we are putting all of our attention on that because no one fucks with our town.

We have a couple of prospects that we grew up with wanting to be members and I spot Devon smoking a cigarette outside on a picnic table.

“I know a happy man when I see one,” he yells out to me.

“I have someone I want you to keep an eye on tonight. Meadow. Just do a few drive-bys and make sure no one is creeping around,” I tell him, and he knows exactly who I’m talking about.

It’s not lost to everyone in this club, in my family, that I have had it bad for her since we were teenagers.

I push open the door to the clubhouse and spot Derek sitting off to the side by himself.

It fucked him up badly with what happened with Elle and I can’t fathom what he is feeling.

My dad walks out from one of the back rooms where there’re offices, and he arches an eyebrow. “Son, I heard you had a passenger on the back of your bike.”

Having someone on the back of your bike that’s not family or someone close to you is huge.

My dad chuckles and hands me a beer. “I know that look, it’s like looking in the mirror.”

He told me many times about how my mother ran off and he tracked her down months later, dragged her back, and that was the start. My mom is the exact opposite of him.

She is soft, never has an empty cookie jar in the house. She’s a damn good mother.

My dad is the vice president of the club, it’s my destiny to take over as VP when Christopher is ready.

My dad engrained in me since I was a baby to protect those who you care about, love fiercely, and I got to see that firsthand with my parents.

“Meadow?”I don’t answer him and he grins. “About damn time, isn’t it?” he jokes, and I hear Derek laugh for the first time in a long time.

“Well, not only are you going to date a club princess, you had to go for the one whose father is trained in torturing people.” Derek lifts his beer to us.

I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t give a fuck who he is, she is mine and always has been.”

My dad and Derek give me a nod of respect. Liam is going to hate me, want to kill me, but that’s not going to change the fact that his daughter is going to be my woman.

I know it, and he knows it, because he tried to threaten me by saying he would slit my throat if I ever touched her.

It’ll be fun to see him try.

* * *

Meadow

Sleep came easy for me after I locked up, took a hot shower, and fell into bed and was out within minutes.

As I drift off to sleep, images of Mason’s intense gaze and the feel of his lips against mine fill my mind. The night replays in vivid detail, the exhilarating motorcycle ride, the breathtaking view, and the passionate kisses we shared. My body still tingles from his touch.

Morning comes too soon, sunlight streaming through my curtains and rousing me from my slumber. I blink groggily, reaching for my phone to check the time. My heart skips a beat when I see a text from Mason.

Good morning, beautiful. Ready for breakfast? I’ll pick you up in an hour.

A giddy smile spreads across my face as I type out a quick reply. I practically leap out of bed, suddenly wide awake and buzzing with anticipation.

I rush through my morning routine, taking extra care with my appearance. I settle on a casual but cute outfit, snug jeans and a soft sweater that shows just a hint of cleavage. As I’m applying the finishing touches to my makeup, I hear the rumble of a motorcycle outside.

My stomach does a backflip as I open the door to find Mason leaning against his bike, looking like sin incarnate in a leather jacket and dark jeans. His eyes roam appreciatively over me before meeting mine with a smoldering gaze.

“Morning, darlin’,” he drawls, pushing off the bike and sauntering toward me. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady as he draws near. “You?”

Mason’s lips quirk into a smirk. “Dreamt of you,” he murmurs, leaning in to brush a kiss against my cheek. His stubble rasps against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. “Ready to go?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. He opens one of his saddle bags and pulls out a leather jacket with the tags still on it. He unzips it, holding the jacket open for me to slide it on.

“What’s this for?” I ask him and slide the jacket on. He gently tugs my hair out of the collar.

“I prefer your skin the way it is, angel.” He winks and climbs onto the bike, his jeans pulled tight around his thighs, and I swallow hard, trying not to run my hands down them.

Mason helps me on next, his hands lingering on my waist. As we speed off to get breakfast, I can’t help but wonder what other surprises this day might hold.

The ride across town only takes around fifteen minutes and as we enter the diner, the aroma of coffee and sizzling bacon hits me like a wave, causing my stomach to growl annoyingly loud. Mason’s hand on my lower back sends tingles up my spine. He guides me to a corner booth, his fingers lingering just a second too long.

“Well, if it isn’t Mason,” a warm voice calls out. An older woman with laugh lines around her eyes approaches us. “And who’s this lovely lady?”

Mason’s arm drapes over my shoulders, casual but possessive. “This is Meadow, Cindy. Meadow, meet Cindy. Makes the best damn pancakes in town.”

“Nice to meet you, Meadow,” Cindy winks. “About time this boy brought a girl around.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. Mason’s low chuckle vibrates through me. “Only the special ones, Cindy,” he says, his eyes locked on mine.

Cindy takes our order and leaves us alone. The silence stretches, comfortable but charged with electricity. I sip my coffee, hyperaware of Mason’s presence across from me.

“So,” he leans back, a glint in his eye. “Did you really sleep like a baby, or were you too busy thinking about our kiss?”

I nearly choke. “Confident, aren’t we?” I try to hide the grin behind my mug that is threatening to break through.

Mason’s grin widens. “Just honest, darlin’. I know I couldn’t get you off my mind.”

The door chimes from behind me, and I turn around to see if it’s anyone I recognize, and what do you know.

Dr. Peterson is walking in, wearing his doctor’s coat. I turn back around but his slimy eyes are already on me, I can feel the weight of it as his gaze creeps along my skin.

Mason’s eyes narrow as he follows my gaze. His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Friend of yours?” he asks, his voice deceptively casual.

I shake my head, facing him fully now. “Not exactly. That’s Dr. Peterson. He’s… not my favorite person at the hospital.”

Mason’s eyes darken, his posture shifting subtly. He leans forward, his voice low. “Has he been giving you trouble?”

I hesitate, not wanting to cause a scene. “Nothing I can’t handle. He’s just… creepy sometimes.”

Mason’s hand covers mine on the table, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. The gesture is comforting, but I can feel the tension radiating from him. “Meadow,” he says, his tone serious. “If anyone’s bothering you, I want to know about it. No one messes with what’s mine.”

The possessiveness in his voice sends a tremble down my spine. Part of me wants to protest that I’m not his possession, but a larger part loves his protectiveness.

“It’s fine, really,” I assure him, squeezing his hand. “Let’s not let him ruin our breakfast.”

Mason nods, but his eyes flick over my shoulder again, tracking Dr. Peterson’s movements. I can practically see the gears turning in his head.

Cindy arrives with our food, momentarily breaking the tension. The smell of syrup and bacon fills the air, and my stomach rumbles appreciatively.

As we eat, the conversation flows easily, ranging from childhood memories to our favorite movies. Mason’s hand never strays far from mine, whether it’s a brush of fingers as we reach for the syrup or his palm resting on my knee under the table.

I’m laughing at one of Mason’s stories when I feel eyes on me again. Glancing up, I notice Dr. Peterson staring openly, a smirk on his face. My laughter dies in my throat.

Mason’s eyes harden, muscles tensing beneath his leather jacket. Without a word, he stands.

“Mason, don’t—” I start, but he’s already moving. My heart pounds, watching him stalk toward Dr. Peterson’s table.

Mason leans down, voice low and menacing. I can’t hear the words, but I see Dr. Peterson’s face drain of color. His smirk vanishes, replaced by wide-eyed fear.

Mason straightens, clapping a hand on the doctor’s shoulder. It looks friendly, but Dr. Peterson flinches.

When Mason returns, his smile is back. But there’s a hint of danger in his eyes, a predatory gleam that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Ready to go, darlin’?” he asks, tossing bills on the table.

I nod, throat dry. As we leave, I can’t help but glance back. Dr. Peterson stares at his plate, hands shaking. But there’s something else, a flash of anger in his eyes that makes my stomach clench.

Outside, the cool air hits my face. Mason helps me onto the bike, his touch gentle despite the tension radiating from him.

“What did you say to him?” I ask, unable to contain my curiosity.

Mason’s jaw clenches. “Just made sure he understood some boundaries.”

I wrap my arms around his waist as he starts the engine. The bike roars to life, vibrating beneath us. As we pull away, I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t over. Dr. Peterson’s angry glare lingers in my mind, a warning of storms to come.