“You want Mason as your Honey Bee?” Gracie’s yelled so loudly that Becky had to pull the phone away from her ear. “Are you crazy? You can’t have some guy you hate as your Honey Bee.”

“I never said I hated him.” Becky opened the door of the stall. As soon as she stepped inside, Muffin came over to greet her. The foal immediately started nosing Becky’s pockets for the treats she always brought him. She pulled out a carrot stub and gave it to the horse. “I just said he was too controlling.”

“But I thought you hated controlling men?”

She did. But she’d come to realize that Mason wasn’t controlling as much as . . . dominant.

Just the word sent a tingle of heat to Becky’s panties. She’d read the Fifty Shades book her senior year in college because all her friends were reading it. And while she didn’t love it nearly as much as the Tender Heart series, it had conjured up a lot of fantasies. Fantasies that had been resurrected after Mason had told her about his kink. She spent another sleepless night wondering just how kinky he got. Did he use ropes? Cuffs? A riding crop?

“Becky?”

Becky blinked away the fantasy and returned to the conversation. “I realize you want your Honey Bee to be a man you love, Gracie Lynn. But I’m not ready for love. Starting a ranch is a full-time job and I don’t need to add a husband to the mix—or even a serious boyfriend. Which is why Mason is so perfect. He doesn’t want a serious relationship either. Besides, if I have sex with him it could work in our favor.”

“How do you figure?”

“There’s nothing like a clingy woman to make a man head for the hills.”

There was a long pause before Gracie spoke. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea. Can’t you just offer him more money when you get your trust fund?”

“I could, but I get the feeling that money doesn’t mean that much to Mason.”

“Actually, money means quite a lot to me.”

Becky whirled around to see Mason leaning on the lower half of the stable door. His dark eyes twinkled with amusement. She had never seen Mason amused before. It made him even more devilishly handsome. It also made her wonder how much he’d overheard.

“I have to call you later, Gracie,” she said before she hung up the phone and slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans. “Do you always slip around listening in on peoples’ conversations?”

“Only when they’re talking about me. Who were you talking to?”

“My cousin.”

A calculating look entered his eyes. “Ahh, since disrupting my peace and quiet hasn’t worked, you’re going to try bribery.”

She smiled and shrugged. “I figured it couldn’t hurt.”

He didn’t seem angry. Only amused. “You’re certainly tenacious. I’ll give you that.”

“My daddy calls it stubbornness.”

“Is your cousin as stubborn?”

“When she wants something, she can be. But she’s not as vocal about it as I am.” She gave Muffin another carrot stub before she headed for the door. Mason stepped back as she opened it. The cat sitting at his feet took her by surprise. “Just where did you come from, sweetheart?” She knelt down and scratched the cat’s ears.

“The bowels of hell, I think,” Mason said.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s just a Mr. Grumpy Pants.” She got to her feet and sent him a quizzical look. “You’re a cat guy?”

Beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, his eyebrows lowered. “No. I’m not a cat guy. Furball just showed up at my house. I even considered the possibility that you sent him to torment me.”

“I have a lot of abilities, but cat mind control isn’t one of them.” She headed over to the shelves where they kept the cat and dog foods. She filled a bowl and placed it on the ground. The cat remained by Mason’s boots and lifted his nose in disdain. She looked at Mason. “You’ve been feeding him people food, haven’t you?”

The blush that stained his cheeks made her laugh, and his scowl deepened. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Let him starve? I brought him here because I thought you might need a mouser—”

Shep came racing in the door of the barn after spending his day herding cattle in the fields. The dog liked cats, but Mason didn’t know that. He scooped the cat up and cradled it protectively against his chest as Shep jumped around his legs.

Becky laughed. “Admit it, Mason, you’re now the owner of a cute kitty.”

His eyes narrowed. “I am not—” His shoulders slumped. “Fine. I’m a cat guy.” He looked so distraught that she couldn’t continue to tease him.

“Go ahead and put him down,” she said. “Shep loves cats.”

He hesitated for only a second before he placed the cat on the ground. Shep came over with his tail wagging. The cat wasn’t as friendly. It arched and hissed. When Shep backed up, the cat jumped on a hay bale and watched the dog from a higher perch.

Mason visibly relaxed. “Good. The mangy thing can stay out in the barn while I’m here?”

“While you’re here?”

He crossed his arms and stared her down. “I’m staying in the guestroom until Zane gets back. Or until you press charges against Rich.”

His stance said he was prepared for a fight, but Becky was through fighting Mason. She was ready to surrender to the chemistry between them and make him her Honey Bee. It looked like fate was on her side. She thought she’d have to go to the Reed ranch to seduce him, but he had come to her.

“Just what are you smiling about?” he asked. “Being stalked is not a laughing matter.”

“You’re right. I guess I’m still thinking about you being a cat guy.” She turned so he wouldn’t see her smile get any bigger. “Come on. I’ll show you the guestroom.”

Once she’d shown Mason to his room, she headed to hers for a long, hot shower. It had been a hard day on the ranch and she couldn’t seduce a man smelling like road kill. She couldn’t help wishing that Mason would bust in like he had before, and she was thoroughly disappointed when he didn’t.

After her shower, she blow-dried her hair and put on the scented lotion Gracie had given her for Christmas. She wanted to put on something sexy and feminine, but her wardrobe was dismally lacking in that department. So she chose a pair of Daisy Duke jean shorts and a white t-shirt. Then she fluffed her hair, put on a dab of lip gloss, and went to find her houseguest. She found him in the kitchen standing over the stove stirring something that smelled delicious. Again, she was surprised.

“A cat guy and a cook?”

He turned, his gaze taking in her hair before lowering to her white t-shirt. Since she hadn’t put on a bra, there was little doubt he could see her nipples through the thin cotton. She was playing with fire, but she didn’t care. She was almost twenty-five and ready to get burned. She straightened her shoulders and tried to subtly thrust her chest out so her boobs looked bigger and more tempting.

He wasn’t tempted. He turned back to the stove and continued their conversation. “I assume you don’t cook.”

“Only when forced.” She stared at his dark, wavy hair that fell on the back of his neck. She really wanted to run her fingers through those inky locks, then tug him around so she could hungrily feast on his sweet lips. But that would be too aggressive. And Mason didn’t want aggressive. He wanted submissive. But how could she be submissive and still get the point across that she wanted to make him her Honey Bee? Maybe she just needed to come out and say it. But before she could, he plated up the chicken and vegetable stir-fry. The delicious-looking food, coupled with the fact that she hadn’t eaten all day, made her postpone her declaration. There would be plenty of time to talk after dinner.

Once they were seated at the breakfast bar, he expertly uncorked the Chardonnay he must’ve brought and poured it in a glass before handing it to her. “Or would you rather have milk?”

She ignored the dig at her age and accepted the glass. “I’d rather have a beer, but wine is fine.” Although she didn’t even take a sip before she dug into her food. It was delicious. “So where did you learn to cook?” she asked in between bites.

“My mom liked to cook. I learned by watching her.”

“Were you close to your mother?”

He took a deep drink of his wine. “No male ever got close to my mother. She didn’t allow it.”

The statement was spoken with no emotion, and yet every word was filled with pain. Becky’s mother wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy, but she never failed to show her kids how much she loved them. Becky had to wonder about a woman who wouldn’t let her son get close. After that conversation killer, they ate in silence. It wasn’t until they were almost finished that Mason spoke again. The man could fixate on things.

“Are you going to call the sheriff about Rich or not?”

“Not.”

He released an exasperated sigh. “I didn’t want to scare you. But since you’re being so stubborn, you need to know that I went to his trailer and he has a wall of pictures of you.”

She set down her fork. “You went to Rich’s trailer? How did you know where he lives?”

“Lawyers have connections. Now are you going to call the sheriff?”

“And tell him what? That Rich keeps leaving me love notes and teddy bears? Or that you saw pictures of me at his trailer? Last I heard, it wasn’t a crime to take pictures of people.”

“Even when they’re skinny dipping?”

She cringed. “Okay, that’s creepy.”

“Exactly. So are you going to call the sheriff? Hopefully, next time he can catch Rich in the act of stalking you.”

“There won’t be a next time.” She got up and carried her plate to the sink.

“What do you mean there won’t be a next time?” He got up and moved around the breakfast bar.

“I mean that Rich texted me today and I texted him back and told him to leave me the hell alone.”

“Didn’t you try that before and the guy still didn’t get the hint?”

“Yes, but this time I told him I have another boyfriend.” She glanced over to see his brow knitted.

“I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend. Who is it?”

She rinsed off her plate before she turned to him and smiled. “You. I’ve decided to submit.”