Page 19

“Yeah, I . . . Is that bread?” His eyes lit up as he approached and put his hand on it. “And it’s still warm. Did you just bake this?”

Mason nodded, and Zeb started crying. Mason rushed over and pulled him into a hug. They’d never hugged before yesterday, and Mason wasn’t sure why. He would happily keep this man in his arms for as long as he’d let him, but now wasn’t the time. He just needed to be here to support Zeb.

“I know you have a lot of questions, but can I just have today when I don’t have to talk about it?” asked Zeb.

“Of course. You talk when you’re ready.”

“Can you call Hunter? I can stay at his place. I know I can’t stay here.”

“Why do you think you can’t stay here?”

“Isn’t that against your rules or something?”

“No, Zeb. You’re staying where I can keep an . . . where I can look after you. I said last night that it wasn’t up for discussion, and that still stands.”

Zeb looked at him in shock, and there was something else in his eyes, but Mason wasn’t reading anything into that right now. Zeb needed to be safe, and that meant staying here.

He made coffee for Zeb from his machine and suggested he take a shower while he made the eggs. Mason had held off eating his own breakfast as he wanted them to eat together.

“Can we eat in the kitchen?” asked Zeb. “I really like it in here.”

“Of course.”

Mason had a dining room for whenever he entertained, which wasn’t often anymore. The table in the kitchen only had two chairs and was where he ate most of his own meals. Even though the kitchen was a large space, it had a warm, cozy feel to it. The log burner was something he loved, and he’d turned it on this morning. He loved his brownstone and had spent a fortune getting it exactly as he wanted it. His brother was more of an apartment person, but Mason wanted the space, even if he lived here alone.

They ate in relative silence. It was driving him mad not knowing what had happened. He knew he was a complete control freak, and not being able to take charge and fix things wasn’t comfortable for him, but he’d promised they wouldn’t talk about anything today.

“The sweats aren’t too baggy for you, are they?” asked Mason.

“The tie cord helps, thank you, and I like wearing your clothes.” Zeb looked surprised he’d just said that, and looked down, clearly embarrassed.

Before Mason could say anything to reassure him, the doorbell sounded, and Zeb startled.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Mason picked up his phone and checked his door camera. “It looks like a delivery. Stay here, and I’ll speak to them.”

He went to the door, unsure if this could be Kaden, but Zeb said he was away until Saturday, whatever that meant. Mason wasn’t expecting a delivery, so he wasn’t sure what it could be. He opened the door and there was a guy who looked familiar, but Mason couldn’t place him.

“Hello sir, I have a delivery for Zebediah Carter.”

“Who from?”

“Sebastian Steele.”

“What is it?”

“There’s a note,” said the guy who passed it to Mason.

He read it and couldn’t help but smile. Charlie had “requested” Sebastian make sure Zeb had clothes to wear, so there were just a “few” things to get him started, and when he was up for it, Charlie would take him shopping. Mason signed for the delivery and couldn’t help but laugh when a dozen bags from the top stores were placed inside his hallway. Once the guy had left, he called out for Zeb.

“Who was it?” he asked.

“Delivery for Zebediah Carter.”

Zeb scowled at him. He hated his full name, and nobody ever called him it.

“Delivery from who?” His voice was apprehensive.