He had to.

It wasn't a question of if Quinn found him, but when.

Bryson grabbed Milo by the hand and led him from the office. There was something going on with the guy. Milo was a little too skittish. One minute he was hot enough to roast Bryson and the next he was as could as February.

The mixed signals were giving him a headache.

Jed walked into the stable, paperwork in his hands. He glanced at Bryson and then Milo. "Am I interrupting?"

"Have you met the new waiter?" Bryson asked Jed.

Jed shook his head, giving Milo an easy smile. "Name's Jed Gibbs."

"Milo McNeal." Milo gave Jed a handshake before turning to Bryson. "Am I keeping you from your work?"

Jed clapped Bryson on the back. "Nope. Bryson is free for the day. You two enjoy yourself."

When they stepped from the barn, he spotted Sparrow heading their way.

"I didn't put a scratch on your bike," Bryson said when he saw the concentrated expression on the sheriff's face.

"It's not you I want to talk to," he said and then glanced at Milo.

"What did I do?" Milo asked. Sparrow was in full uniform. He had even driven here in his patrol car. That was never a good sign.

Bryson slipped his arm over Milo's shoulder. The gesture was to give Milo support for whatever Sparrow had to say, but it was also his bear being protective. The scent Milo carried hadn't dissipated. If anything, it had grown stronger.

But now the fragrance was tinged with trepidation, and that put Bryson on the defensive. To his satisfaction, Milo didn't move from under Bryson's arm. As a matter of fact, the guy scooted a little closer. He tucked himself into the curve of Bryson's body as the two stood there.

"You didn't do anything," Sparrow said as he scratched at his head under the brim of his hat. "I heard some interesting things from a friend of mine."

"Oh?" Milo said.

Bryson felt the man stiffen next to him. Milo shifted from one foot to the other. Although they'd just met not too long ago, Bryson wished Milo would tell him what he was hiding. He'd help the guy any way he could.

He slid his fingers up Milo's shoulder and around to the slender column of the man's neck. His fingers brushed over the soft skin, letting Milo know that he was there for him.

Sparrow eyed what Bryson was doing but didn't comment on it. "Your father is Quinn McNeal," Sparrow stated bluntly.

It was Bryson's turn to stiffen. He knew that name. It was as well known as the founder of Apple or Johnson & Johnson. Quinn McNeal was a force to be reckoned with and from what Bryson had seen here and there when he watched television, the guy wasn't nice.

Bryson had seen McNeal a handful of times on CNN and MSNBC, giving interviews or being discussed in news reports. He never smiled, and a few times the guy had snapped at the person he was speaking with. His eyes had said it all. They were as cold as a frozen lake.

Milo pulled away from Bryson, running a hand over his head. "Did he pay you to come get me?"

"Why would he do that?" Sparrow asked. "What's going on, Milo?"

Bryson wanted to know as well.

But instead of answering, Milo headed toward his car.

"Where are you going?" Bryson asked.

"To another town," the man answered solemnly.

Sparrow and Bryson glanced at each other before Bryson strode to where Milo was digging his keys out of his pocket.

"Talk to me."

"Why?" Milo asked and Bryson could see the sheen of tears in his gorgeous green eyes. "It won't make a difference. I'll never be free from him."

Sparrow joined them and asked, "Why are you running, Milo?"

Milo kicked a tire on his car and cursed up a storm. Bryson and Sparrow didn't say anything as the man pounded the palm of his hand against the driver's window.

"You might think I had it made living with Quinn. But you'd be wrong," Milo said as his fingers curled into fists. "He wants to run every single aspect of my life, including who I should marry."

A growl ripped from Bryson's throat before he could stop it. Milo glanced at him and then looked toward the horizon. "I just want a simple life. Is that too much to ask?"

"Not at all," Bryson replied. He stepped to Milo and pulled the man into his arms. "Is that why you keep pushing me away?"

Sparrow cleared his throat. "Since you're not in any immediate danger, we'll talk later."

Bryson nodded his thanks as the sheriff got into his car and took off.

Milo put his hands on Bryson's chest, creating a barrier between them as he tried to push Bryson away. "He'll destroy you if he finds out how much I like you."

"Let me worry about me." Bryson gently knocked Milo's hands away. "And now that I know the reason..." He dipped his head, capturing Milo's lips.

God, he could kiss the man all day. Milo tasted so damn good.

Milo moaned as he cupped Bryson's face and pulled him closer. Their teeth clashed and their tongues dueled before Bryson had to come up for air.

"I can't let him hurt you," Milo said. "He wants me to marry some insufferable jerk and won't let anything or anyone stop him from getting what he wants."

"Then marry me." Bryson made the offer before he even knew the thought was in his head.

Milo's eyes widened as his lips parted.

Bryson mulled the idea over and it sounded right to him. "He can't make you marry anyone if you're already married."

"I can't let you do that," Milo said. "Thank you, though."

"Bullshit," Bryson replied as he leaned an arm over the roof of Milo's car, tangling their fingers together. "It's the perfect solution."

"But we wouldn't be marrying for the right reasons," Milo said as he pulled his hand away and turned, giving Bryson his back. "I won't let you get involved in this. I'll just leave, start over where he can't find me."

"So that's your solution?" Bryson asked. "To keep running?" He sighed. "You can't live like that."

"Watch me." Milo grabbed the handle of the car door, but Bryson refused to budge. He wasn't going to let Milo run for the rest of his life. That was insane. Sooner or later Quinn McNeal would catch up to the guy.

Besides, his bear was protesting the idea of Milo leaving town. Bryson was against the idea as well.

"Either you marry me or I'll follow you to every damn town you run to," Bryson threatened.

Milo lifted his hands to shove at Bryson, but Bryson caught the guy's hands and held them over his heart. "I'm serious."

"Are you always this pushy?" Milo asked.

He could feel Milo trembling as the man stood there. An odd sensation ran up Bryson's spine, spreading in a warm glow that made his muscles tighten.

They were going to get married.

He just knew it. Milo's resolve was crumbling and Bryson was going to race the man to the courthouse.

"What if-"

"No," Bryson said. "Don't think about it. Let's just do this."

"This"-Milo released an unsteady breath as he shook his head-"is insane."

Bryson winked at the man. "But you're paying for the honeymoon."

Milo snatched his hands away and slapped Bryson on the chest. Bryson chuckled as he grabbed Milo into a tight hug, resting his cheek on the fiery red hair. "It will work. You'll see."

Milo let go of a contented sigh. The sound vibrated all the way to Bryson's soul.

"I hope you're right," Milo grumbled into Bryson's chest. "Because if Quinn finds me, not even a marriage license is going to stop him from getting what he wants."

Bryson begged to differ.

If Quinn came anywhere near Milo, the human was going to have one angry-ass bear to contend with.

Chapter Five.

As Milo stood there enveloped in Bryson's arms, he prayed the man was right. The plan was so crazy that it just might work. He didn't understand why Bryson would do something so selfless. They barely knew each other and the guy was willing to marry Milo to help him.

Who did things like that?

The screen door slammed open. Milo glanced up to see Clayton and Harland walking outside. Jed came from around the house, heading his way.

"I hear you might have trouble heading your way," Harland said.

"Fuck trouble," Clayton said, his jaw tight. "I say we eat his ass and solve the problem."

"Eat him?" Milo asked. What on earth was Clayton talking about? He knew his boss had a few screws loose. Clayton Calabria was very...unique. But he hadn't thought the guy was nuttier than a squirrel.

Milo repeated what he'd told Bryson and Sparrow. He left out the part about Bryson proposing to him. It was a strange sensation to confide in these men. All four of them towered over Milo, making his palms sweat. They looked as if they could each bench-press a car, whereas Milo struggled when he tried to carry too many grocery bags into the house at once.

Jed glanced at the house. "We need to form some kind of plan," he said. "We have a lot of babies to consider." He turned back around and looked between Milo and Bryson. "Besides, I'm pretty sure one person in particular is willing to defend Milo to the bitter end."

"That would be all of us," Clayton said. "No one messes with the men of the Triple-B."

Why did Milo get the distinct impression that Jed was hinting at something? He'd heard Clayton and Harland talking at the bar and knew all four men had served in the military. That would be a bonus if a war broke out. Unfortunately, right now, it was just his life going downhill.

"I already came up with a solution," Bryson said. Milo moved closer, unsure how Bryson's friends would react to what was already planned.

He didn't want any of them to think he was using Bryson-because he wasn't. It had been Bryson who offered to marry Milo.

So none of these guys should be pissed at him.

"And what is your plan?" Jed asked.

Bryson had perfect timing. Milo was nervous, and his knees were growing weak when Bryson's hands-he had such wonderful, strong hands-came to rest on Milo's shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.

But having Bryson stand behind him meant that Milo had to stand in front, exposed to these men. He felt too damn vulnerable when Bryson stated, "Milo and I are getting married."

Clayton's eye twitched.

Harland coughed but it sounded more like the man was choking.

Jed's features turned inscrutable. The easy smile the man had offered him in the stable was gone.

The silence was deafening.

"Don't talk all at once," Bryson snapped.

It was Harland who spoke first. "Look. I know it's hard on you sometimes to see us with our-"

"I can't believe you're going there," Bryson barked. "Seriously? You think I want to marry Milo because I'm the last to mate?"

Milo was confused.

"Don't take it the wrong way," Clayton chimed in. "We want you to be happy, Bryson. But this isn't the way-"

"Screw all of you." Bryson's fingers slipped from Milo's neck, taking the warmth with them. "If you think that is why I'm doing this, then none of you know me too well."

The pain was evident in Bryson's voice and Milo felt a need to hurt the men who were hurting Bryson. The impulse was so fierce that he trembled with rage.