Cabin 1 Read online

He wanted me. I could feel it in his touch, see it in his eyes.

  He wanted me, and I needed to be careful.

  Men like Gage didn’t settle down. With one woman, at least. Men like Gage could never be tamed.

  Men like Gage had heartbreaker written all over their gorgeous, ruggedly handsome faces.

  No, I didn’t date men like Gage… no matter how many butterflies he gave me.

  I’d repeated that mantra throughout the day.

  After my appointment with the head doctor, Gunner had dropped off my laptop, moments before I’d met with both Lieutenant Colson and Officer Haddix for the third time in the last twenty-four hours to answer another onslaught of questions, and to discuss my theory that the infamous Mickey Greco was somehow involved. It became apparent that BSPD and the Steele brothers were a tight knit group, and that they’d been in communication since the attack and shooting. It was another example of how far the Steele family reached.

  That meeting ended with the officers informing me it would be forty-eight more hours until my Jeep was released, and they strongly recommended that I continue my stay at Steele B&B until advancements were made in the case. I responded by asking how close they were to finding my attacker-turned-gunman, to which they responded with glances at their shoes.

  After that discouraging meeting, that’s when I took matters into my own hands and dove into my case files. My only break was to write a carefully worded email to my boss, informing him of the “incident”, where I was, and that I’d work remotely when I could.

  The afternoon had quickly faded to dusk and, at that point, I had all the pent up energy and anger of a caged tiger. I felt like I was about to internally combust.

  I needed space, air, time to breathe. If the son of a bitch was still looking for me with his rifle and poor aim, then so be it. Because truth be told, at that point, I didn’t give a damn.

  Truth be told, I knew I was safe on the grounds of the compound, and probably nowhere else.

  Dammit. Damn them for having me under their thumbs.

  I wiped a pile of dead leaves from the seat of my covered golf cart—approved by Steele Shadows Security, apparently—then headed down the manicured trail through the woods.

  The trees were at their autumn peak, glittering in the golden rays of dusk. Endless rows of oaks, maples, and pines fading into the mountains. Colorful leaves swirled around me with the breeze, a raining color of yellow and orange. It was breathtakingly beautiful and I found myself picturing Gage, as a child, running through those woods playing cops and robbers.

  No doubt Gage was the robber.

  I came to a fork in the trail, one that led to the main house, the other somewhere down the hill, to the back yard.

  I decided on taking the scenic route.

  I took my time descending down the trail, experiencing the first moments of the closest thing to relaxation I’d felt. The stillness, serenity, peacefulness of the woods around me… until I heard—

  “Aw, fuck you, you cheap-shodding son of a bitch!”

  I recognized the voice, which only meant it was one of the Steele brothers because they all sounded the same. I veered off the trail, following the sound of rock and roll music, accompanied by thuds, slaps, and pops. My brow cocked, my imagination running wild with what I was about to drive up on.

  An orgy perhaps?

  No telling with those guys.

  The woods opened up to a sprawling back yard, complete with an infinity pool speckled with verandas and beer cans. An outdoor kitchen, seating area, and multiple flat-screens hugged the stone walls. A tennis court, basketball court… and then there was Gage and a beast of a man, colored in mean-looking tattoos, engaged in some sort of mixed martial arts hand-to-hand combat crap. They were inside a UFC-style fighting cage… Both wearing nothing but spandex shorts. Gage’s, bright red, of course. Grinning, I parked under a tree and got out, watching the violent attack unfold in front of me.

  The dark-haired tattoo-guy had Gage by a few inches, but matched in shredded muscle and brute force. A spit-laden mouth piece flew across the mat as tattoo-man popped Gage in the mouth, to which Gage responded with a devastating roundhouse kick to tattoo’s kidneys. Then, he barreled into the guy, sending them both into the air and slamming onto the mat.

  “You’re losing it, Jagg.” Gage muttered through an evil grin, and I realized tattoo-man must be the detective I’d heard about earlier.

  Fists flew, legs kicked, grunts, spits, curse words as I walked up to the cage. I watched Gage, the fluidity of his movements, the confidence in his nimble, quick steps. No thinking, no hesitating, just deadly force, boom, boom, boom, one hit after another. The rawness of it, the intensity—the manliness—of it had me licking my lips like a schoolgirl watching the quarterback practice on the field. God, he was gorgeous, a tanned, ripped body so toned it belonged on the cover of a men’s fitness magazine. A few nasty scars slashed his back reminding me of his past life in the Marines. Gage Steele had spent his whole life fighting.

  Dominating. Exactly like he was then.

  My gaze was pulled to the bulge between his legs and, I swear to God, my heart stopped beating for two seconds. Heat rose to my cheeks as I cleared my throat and looked away. Gage Steele was the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on.

  Like a magnet, I watched him.

  He shifted underneath Jagg, his face catching a beam of light. Our eyes met, and the world stopped. He froze, and my heart did the opposite, slipping in my chest as he stared back at me.

  Then, he was pinned to the mat… One. Two. Three.

  Game over.

  Victorious now, and straddled on top of Gage, Jagg grinned at me, then leaned down and whispered something in Gage’s ear. I couldn’t make out Gage’s response but heard several f-bombs and a threat that I was pretty sure would land him in a padded room under a federal prison.

  Jagg laughed and released him. Gage pushed off the mat, locked eyes with me and after a quick drink, he began crossing the lawn in nothing but his underwear.

  Sweat dripped down his face, his body, the band of his spandex saturated. I felt my body come to life, a tingle below, a zing of sexual awakening, as if I needed any reminder that this man was capable of bringing a woman to her knees with nothing more than one of those cocky grins. He stared at me, as if daring me to look away. He crossed the grass with a swagger, a twinkle in his eye and—God help me—a small curve of his lips as he drew closer. He’d either forgotten that he was wearing nothing more than a strap of spandex, or didn’t care… or, perhaps, Gage knew exactly what he looked like, and what he was doing… what he was doing to me.

  Damn the confidence. It got me every time.

  I reminded myself to get a grip and, in an attempt to act aloof, I looked away and focused on Jagg, toweling off in the ring.

  He was hot, too, after all.

  “Well, hey there.” Gage said immediately when my eyes left him, demanding my attention back on him. He stopped in front of me, perfectly blocking my view of Jagg.

  Jealous? Interesting.

  “Hey,” I smiled, my heart a little pitter patter.

  He flicked my hair, a flirty gesture. “I like it down.”

  “Well your approval means everything to me.”

  “I bet it does,” he grinned and I noticed several welts forming on his face, scratches down his arms. Damn, he and his buddies went hard. He didn’t seem to notice, or care, that he looked like he’d been in a street fight. I assumed the latter.

  “It’s good to see you.” He shifted closer to me, teasing me, reminding me of the kiss we’d shared. Letting me know that he wanted it again. That was Gage—as subtle as an explosion.

  “You know, I like that necklace on you.” He fingered the security pendant around my neck. The mere touch of his fingertips sent goosebumps over my skin.

  I shifted my weight to my heels reminding myself I couldn’t jump him right there, and looked behind him. “Nice set up back here.”

  Still holding the neck
lace, and me by the neck, he ignored the compliment.

  “How was your day?” He asked.

  “Why don’t you ask Dr. Murray?” My attitude thick.

  “Ah, you enjoyed it then.” He smirked.

  “As much as you enjoyed getting pinned by your buddy just then.”

  “Hey, that was your fault.” The pendant dropped from his hands, sending a cool draft against my heated skin.

  I crossed my arms over my chest, drawing his gaze like a laser beam. “I thought Marines are trained not to get distracted.”

  “Doesn’t include uptight, stubborn, brown-haired lawyers with lips that could…” he sucked in a breath, “wanna go back to the cabin?” He shifted his weight back and forth with a twinkle in his eye.

  My lip curved, watching him, all hyped up on adrenaline from a fight, and I was on the receiving end of that pent up energy. It was like he couldn’t control himself, or again, was simply enjoying throwing me off my game.

  “Maybe later,” I said, turning him down. As the words came out of my mouth, I realized that deep down, I meant it.

  “I’ll take that as a promise.” He winked. “Now, what’s got you out and about? Is everything okay in your cabin?”

  “Do most of your clients stay cooped up in their cabins the whole time they’re here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’m not most of your clients then, I guess.”

  “No, you’re definitely not. Most of my clients don’t kiss me.”

  “Most?”

  He laughed. Then, his face sombered as if remembering something. “You should keep your next appointment with Dr. Murray.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s good at what she does.”

  “That’s not why you want me to keep the appointment. Why, Gage?”

  He stepped back, the adrenaline from the fight fading from him. “Just want to make sure you’re… thinking straight.”

  “Hey buddy, you kissed me. Remember?”

  “Then you kissed me.”

  “So, what?” I fisted my hands on my hips. “You think I can’t control my impulses simply because I had a traumatic experience?”

  “Yes.”

  My eyebrows shot up. I laughed a humorless laugh and turned away. “Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way. Jesus, Gage. Have a nice day.”

  “Dammit,” he growled behind me. “Wait, Niki…”

  Just then a loud whistle cut through the air. We turned to see Celeste waving from one of the hundred balconies on the house.

  Gage shaded his eyes from the setting sun. “What?” He snapped.

  “You have a visitor. Out front.”

  “Get what they want and send them away.”

  Celeste’s gaze flickered to me. “Actually the visitor came to see Niki.”

  Gage turned to me, all pissed and frowning in one expression.

  I blinked. A visitor? For me?

  17

  Niki

  My mind was spinning trying to think of who would visit me, who knew I was there beside my boss? I followed Gage up the back yard, past the pool, and into the house. We passed two housekeepers, one who didn’t make eye contact. I assumed it was because Gage was striding through the house half-naked… and I wondered if she’d seen him actually naked. For some reason, I’d bet my life on it. The other locked onto me like a bird with its prey, eyeing me from behind red-rimmed glasses and long, grey dreadlocks. Unwelcomed; got it.

  He guided me through the kitchen, then led me to the side door.

  “Wait… Gage.”

  “What?”

  “Uhhh…” I nodded to his groin. “Aren’t you going to put some clothes on?”

  He frowned, confused by this request.

  “Seriously, Gage.”

  “Does it make you uncomfortable, Niki? Whoever’s out there can’t handle it?”

  “It’s not the first time I’ve seen a guy in his underwear, Gage, but whoever is here to see me might notice that you’re half naked. Put on some shorts, at least.”

  A car door slammed outside and Gage glanced out the window. He shot me a look, then snorted and muttered, “Oh, hell no.”

  Gage stormed out the door and strode outside in his cherry-red spandex like the stubborn pain in the ass he was. I followed him and stopped cold, gaping at my ex-boyfriend standing in front of his sparkling new F-150.

  Paul Taylor.

  Paul freaking Taylor.

  Paul wasn’t looking at me though, nope, he was locked onto the naked man bowed up like a Rottweiler bee-lining it to him across the driveway. Gage was rigid, tense, totally amped up. I didn’t understand what he was so pissed about. Surely their clients got visitors.

  I shook myself from my shocked stupor and walked across the driveway.

  “Who are you?” Gage demanded.

  Christ, what the hell was his problem? I jogged to catch up with him.

  “His name is Paul—”

  Paul cut me off, chest puffed to meet Gage’s. “Paul Taylor.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Niki’s boyfriend.”

  “Ex-boyfriend,” I quickly corrected, feeling like I’d stepped into the twilight zone, or some cheesy eighties flick.

  Gage’s fingers flexed at his side and then it hit me—he wasn’t pissed, he was jealous. I inwardly laughed. It shouldn’t have surprised me. Gage Steele couldn’t control his emotions. Throwing a jealous temper tantrum fit right in with the irrational behavior I’d seen so far.

  Gage shifted his weight, angling in front of me.

  Not just jealous…

  Protective.

  Possessive.

  Extremely possessive.

  And it was escalating.

  I shifted my attention to Gage, and spoke to him with kid gloves. “Can Paul and I have a moment, please?”

  With his eyes locked on my former boyfriend, he grabbed my hand, forcefully, and replied, “That’s not how it works here, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t call her sweetheart.”

  My hand was dropped and Gage stepped forward, the veins bulging in his neck. I grabbed his forearm.

  “Hey.” My heart was speeding like a racehorse. I kept my voice low, level, calm. “Give us a minute. Please.” I tugged at his arm when he didn’t look at me. I looked back and forth between both men, my former boyfriend with his blonde, perfectly coifed hair, long, lean tall body, falling only an inch or two shorter than the hot-headed body-builder roughneck in front of him.

  Gage would have Paul out cold in under five seconds.

  “Please,” I said again. “Give us a sec.”

  Gage finally turned to me, glowering. A solid ten seconds stretched out as I waited for him to grace us with his decision. Finally, he flashed Paul a warning glance, then stepped to the side, arms crossed over his chest watching us like a snarling guard dog.

  I tried to pretend he was gone.

  “What are you doing here?” I couldn’t hide the shock, the annoyance in my voice.

  “I heard what happened, Niki, shit, are you okay?” Paul focused on my bruised eye.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Again, what are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to check on you. Make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m fine. Thank you.” Still baffled, I shook my head. “How’d you hear about everything?”

  “Cami told me.”

  Cami—the receptionist at my law office. Apparently, my boss had told her, not realizing she was one of the biggest gossips in town.

  “I don’t think many other people know, though. And I won’t tell anyone.” He flickered a glance over my shoulder then stepped forward, closing the inches between us. He was taunting Gage. I didn’t like it. For whatever reason, I didn’t like it.

  “Do you need anything, at all?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

  He reached forward to touch my arm but was stopped when a foam football came hurling through the air and slammed into his temple.

  “What the hell, man?” Paul pushed past me,
the anger in his eyes now matching my guard dog’s. “What the fuck?”

  “Oops.” Gage popped his knuckles.

  That didn’t deter Paul as he stomped up to him, red-faced and ready to fight.

  A winked grin crossed Gage’s face. His fingers curled into fists.

  The football returned, this time from the opposite direction, and landed perfectly in-between the impending fist fight. Paul and I both turned to see Ax, striding across the driveway, as Gunner pushed out the front door.

  All eyes on Paul.

  Daring him to make a move.

  Paul looked at me, his face flushed with adrenaline, then back at the massive men descending upon him, knowing that he was screwed. Visibly frustrated, he picked up the football and hurled it into the woods.

  No one even flinched.

  “How can I help ya, buddy?” Ax asked, condescending with a touch of sarcasm.

  Gunner positioned himself behind Gage, no doubt to hold him back in case he snapped. One more second, and I was sure he would have. Gunner handed him a pair of shorts, which Gage responded to by throwing them on the ground like a child.

  The Steele brothers. Always there for each other. Every second, of every day. It was remarkable to watch. Each having their unsaid role to diffuse the situation.

  It was as if they’d done it a hundred times, and I wondered… was Gage this possessive with all his female clients?

  Their stepmother, Dallas, walked out, into the covered entryway, arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze shifted from man to man, disapproval narrowing her eyes.

  Paul looked at the Steele army encircling him, and recoiled. “I came out here to check on Niki… I can see she’s in good hands, apparently.” He spat on the ground.

  “Spit again and you’ll be licking it up between two broken teeth, buddy. Now, if there’s nothing else…” Ax motioned to Paul’s truck.

  One more look in my direction, and another at Gage, then Paul turned, jumped in his truck and disappeared down the driveway.

  Ax nodded at Gage, who nodded back, then the Steele brothers and their stepmother descended into the shadows and went back to whatever they were doing before they saved their brother from getting slapped with an assault charge.