Page 42 of Trapped for Christmas

“I just thought I’d make a selection.”

Zeb smiled. “I’m going to need to go to the gym when we get home.”

“Your body is perfect,” he replied, unable to stop himself looking Zeb up and down.

Zeb looked down and realized he was only wearing his boxers, which Mason had no problem with. He looked like he was packing some decent equipment, and it had definitely grown in the time since he’d first walked in. Zeb’s eyes went wide, and he rushed off back to the bedroom. Mason chuckled. He was adorable when he was all flustered, which only happened outside of work. At the restaurant, he was the one who ran the place. If people needed to swap shifts or needed new uniforms, Zeb dealt with it. Anything to do with suppliers or escalated customer complaints that the front of house staff couldn’t handle was all Zeb. If there was a staffing issue, Zeb would only involve Mason if necessary, which wasn’t often, as he had a great team, but the odd bad egg could slip through. Hospitality had a high turnover, even in the fine dining places.

“Sorry about that,” said Zeb, walking back in wearing far too many clothes.

“Did you hear me complain?”

His eyes widened again, and he rushed to the fridge to get himself a drink before he went and sat down on the sofa after Mason waved off his offer to help.

Mason would stop teasing him for a bit. He wanted them to have a nice day together. They could talk later, but the more Mason thought about it, the more he realized he needed to say something before they went back to New York.

Mason had never worried before about making it clear he was interested in someone, but this was different. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a hookup. Certainly not this year, which was something he wouldn’t be sharing with his friends, especially Ryder. He’d have his gay card rescinded. Mason had never been a big one for casual sex anyway. That had only been Ryder in their group. Before they’d met their men, most of them had had occasional hookups. Deacon had been in some short-term relationships. Max had pined for Paolo for years, so had rarely done anything, and Ethan was always guarded about what he was up to. Sebastian could have anyone he wanted, and he had when necessary. Mason had probably had a hookup every two or three months, but Zeb wasn’t a hookup; Mason was in love with him, and had been for a long time. That was probably why there had been nobody else, even for a night.

“Come and help yourself,” said Mason, as he placed everything on the dining table.

He’d made eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, chopped fruit, and pastries. Mason had prepared the pastry the night before when Zeb was asleep. He loved breakfast pastries, so Mason had wanted to make them for him. He’d made extra so he could drop them into Alison’s and have a word with her about getting involved in Ryder’s schemes, especially with stocking his cabin like it was a sex shop.

“I can’t eat all this,” said Zeb.

“Just eat what you can. We can save the rest for later.”

“Where are we going today? It’s stopped snowing, but it’s still deep out there.”

“It’s only a five-minute walk into the town center, and they always clear the sidewalks first.”

“What’s the plan?”

“We’ll stop by the bed and breakfast to see Alison, so I can thank her for getting the cabin ready. There’s a café we can visit for lunch, and the local shops have something for everyone. I might pick up a few presents.”

“I need to get Hunter something, and Felix, but I don’t know what to get him.”

“I’m sure Ryder could give you some suggestions.”

“None of which I will buy in front of an audience.”

Mason snorted. He had a point. His suggestions would probably be more like a gift for Ryder, although he doubted Felix would object. Felix may have softened his edges, but when it was just the six of them, nothing but filth came out of his mouth. He still liked to shock, but after years, they were all immune to him.

After breakfast, they both got showered—separately, of course. Mason had never showered with someone else, it seemed inefficient, but he liked the idea of washing Zeb . . . after he’d made him dirty, of course. He needed to stop his wandering thoughts. They were about to leave, and he didn’t need to be hard, or walking would be uncomfortable.

He fussed over Zeb for a few minutes, making sure he was all wrapped up. He’d put on his “boss” face when he first refused to wear a hat, saying it would mess up his hair. After a few more seconds of glaring, he had it on. There was a bobble on it, which made him look cute as fuck, albeit a few years younger. Not something Mason was going to unpack today. His brain needed to be in charge of the day, not his dick. That could take over later, if Zeb was up for it.

“Jesus, it’s freezing,” said Zeb when they stepped outside.

“Aren’t you glad you wore the hat now?”

Zeb glared at him. “Tell that to my hair later.”

“Better than being ill.”

“We’ll see.”

Mason chuckled as they walked down the path. Zeb slipped, not used to walking on snow, and Mason grabbed his hand to steady him.

“Keep hold of my hand until we’re off the driveway.”