what he’d promised him earlier.
“Hey, Mercy.” Brett smiled at his approach. “Fuck, those cinnamon rolls smell divine. Tell me I can get one.”
Mercy pulled back the cloth he’d draped over the plate. “Just one.”
Brett grabbed one and shoved the whole damn thing into his mouth.
“You better hope you don’t choke,” Mercy said. “I haven’t recertified my CPR training.”
Brett grinned as he chewed. When he spoke, his mouth was still full. “You’d love to give me mouth to mouth.”
“In your dreams.” Mercy looked around. “I was hoping to share these with the new workers.”
Brett gave him a knowing look. “Ford is in the stables cleaning the saddles.”
Mercy was busted, so he didn’t bother contradicting Brett.
Brett winked. “I’m not an idiot, Mercy. I’m up bright and early and saw you two this morning.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mercy walked away to Brett’s deep laughter. He was glad he could entertain the guy.
Mercy squinted when he walked into the stables, adjusting his eyes to the dim interior. He stopped when he saw Ford at the other end, his back to Mercy.
Ford really was a big, gorgeous guy, and hell, Mercy just might pass out watching Ford’s muscles flex as he worked the saddle soap in a circular motion. The scent invaded Mercy’s lungs. He might not want to work on the ranch, but Mercy did love that smell.
Slowly, Ford’s arm stopped moving. He lifted his head, scented the air, and then turned. The smile on his face made Mercy’s heart skip a beat. The guy was genuinely glad to see him.
“Cinnamon rolls.”
“Baked you a batch, though Brett stole one.” Mercy walked toward Ford, his knees feeling weak and his palms growing sweaty. “He practically tackled me when he smelled them.”
“Remind me to kill him,” Ford teased. “Never steal a man’s sweets.”
“Or a bear’s.” Mercy handed over the plate. “You should have told me.”
Caution entered Ford’s green eyes. “Would it have made a difference? You know shifters exist. I didn’t think it was a big deal. Did you announce you were human when we met?”
“That’s not the same,” Mercy said. “I don’t know if someone isn’t human. You do.”
Ford sat on the edge of the table he’d been working on and tossed one of the cinnamon rolls into his mouth. He watched Mercy carefully as he licked his fingers. “Are you mad at me?”
“Well, no.” Mercy was trying to work up the courage to ask Ford if they were mates. What if Red was wrong? Mercy didn’t want to embarrass himself. For all he knew Ford was just being nice to him. Maybe he didn’t have any sexual interest in Mercy at all.
And now Mercy was thinking about having sex with Ford. Just great. The last thing he needed was to pop a boner while standing there. He’d already embarrassed himself enough around the guy.
“Then it’s settled.” Ford grinned. “You’re a human, and I’m a bear shifter. I’m glad we got that out of the way.”
“There’s just one more thing.” Mercy blew out a breath, praying he wasn’t making a mistake. “Are we mates?”
Chapter Four
Ford nearly choked on the roll he’d been chewing on. He slapped the side of his fist against his chest until he could finally breathe again.
“Don’t you dare choke!” Mercy looked frantic until Ford swallowed his bite and took a deep breath.
That had been the last thing he’d expected Mercy to ask. Shit. Now what? Ford wasn’t sure he wanted to tell Mercy about them because he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stick around.
He had too many enemies, and someone watching him only proved that he might be putting the people on the ranch in danger. He’d left Mercy this morning and gone on the hunt for whoever it was, but he’d come up empty.
“Why would you think that?”
There was more to Ford’s hesitation. His last assignment had nearly gotten a family killed. Ford had been filled with too much confidence, a mistake he never planned on making again.
He should have taken time off after that, but Ford had damn near begged the Ultionem to give him another job, anything to get the cries of those children out of his head, that look of horror in the father’s eyes when he thought his family wouldn’t survive.
“Ford?”
Ford blinked several times, wishing he could take a jog to clear his mind. Running had always helped him, but he wasn’t sure if it was the act itself that helped or if he was actually trying to outrun those memories.
He