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Not a Hero

Page 22

by Cherise Sinclair


  Honestly, if men were hammered with that kind of bullshit, they’d get out the pitchforks and rip apart the fashion industry.

  He lifted Audrey’s chin. “You are beautiful,” he said firmly. “You have the biggest, most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re the color of morning fog over the lake.”

  When he saw the hint of tears in her eyes, he panicked. And added, “Especially right after you’ve come.”

  The corners of her mouth tilted up.

  Smiling, he stroked through her hair. “Your hair is silky and long…and perfect for holding you in place during sex.”

  She choked back a laugh.

  He ran his thumb over the satin of her lower lip. “This soft mouth is simply perfect for sucking my dick.”

  When her eyes narrowed, he grinned. “Your breasts are the perfect size,” for my hands, “and every time I see your ass, I get hard.”

  Pinning her against the counter, he pressed that very hard dick against her.

  She began to laugh. “I think you’ve been sniffing the Viagra or something.”

  “I don’t need Viagra; I have you.” He nibbled his way down her neck. Yes, her breasts really were the perfect size for his hands.

  She leaned into him, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Gabe, do we have time to…”

  “Hey, bro,” Bull yelled. “Bring us the taters.”

  “Hell.” He pulled back and smiled down into her unfocused eyes. Her cheeks were flushed with arousal.

  She blinked at him.

  He grinned. “We’ll finish this discussion later. For now, can you carry out the tray while I get the potatoes?”

  “Right. Yes. Of course.”

  She picked up the tray and headed for the door, hitting the doorframe with her shoulder. He had to grin. She wanted him and still wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

  In fact, she’d surprised him completely by suggesting a fling. He’d never seen anything cuter than when she’d slapped her hands over her mouth, appalled at what she’d said.

  Even if he’d wanted to say no, her reaction had sealed the deal.

  Tossing the hot potatoes into a basket, he grabbed a couple of beers and headed out to the patio.

  Nothing tasted as good as meat from the grill, whether salmon, moose, or cow. And Gabe was pleased to see Audrey ate as heartily as everyone else.

  When they’d finished eating, he gathered the scraps and showed her how to give the chickens the treats.

  Unable to resist her open delight over the task, Gabe pulled her into a long kiss. Was there anything sexier than the way she concentrated on each new “adventure,” fully into each moment of time?

  As they returned from the chicken yard, Bull and Caz had cleaned up the area and were heading across the lawn.

  “Hey, you two,” Bull called as he swatted at a mosquito. “The breeze is gone. Time to move to protected ground.”

  Grabbing their drinks, Gabe took Audrey’s hand and followed his brothers into the screened pavilion on the grassy lake bank.

  “So, viejo, how was your day?” Caz asked.

  Earlier, Audrey had told his brothers everything about Spyros. Then Caz and Bull had run through the highlights of their Tuesday.

  Now, it was Gabe’s turn…because that was a Mako tradition. Growing up, each boy was required to give a summary of the day. The sarge had been devious that way. Hawk had been forced to use more than a couple of words. Caz had to speak in English.

  Settling into a chair beside Audrey, Gabe told about the harassment of the two female tourists. “I didn’t recognize the men involved.”

  He hadn’t met everyone in town, but he’d keep an eye out for this group now.

  Bull stroked his goatee. “How were they dressed?”

  “Country, not city. Jeans, boots—”

  “T-shirts or button-downs?”

  Gabe replayed the scene in his head. “No tees.” That was odd. The men had been under thirty—prime T-shirt wearing age. “None of them.”

  “They might be Patriot Zealots. Their illustrious leader, Reverend Parrish, doesn’t approve of T-shirts. Too modern. The women’s clothing is even more old-fashioned.”

  “I’ve seen their women in the grocery store, always accompanied by a man, of course.” Audrey shook her head. “Blouses buttoned up to the neck. Ankle-length skirts. They look as if they stepped out of an episode of Little House on the Prairie.”

  Gabe eyed her. Had he ever seen her in a skirt? But…she probably only wore clothing she could run and escape in. The thought of how long she’d lived in fear was like a rough stone that grated against his heart. He reached over and took her hand.

  “How do the PZs treat women?” Gabe asked. The man who’d slapped Audrey at the roadhouse was a PZ. Sounded as if the ones today were PZs. Were there going to be more sexual assaults from this crowd?

  “I don’t know about their own women, but from the few who visit my bar, they act as if single women are whores.” Bull scowled. “I have Felix serve them, no matter where the bastards sit.”

  Obviously, Bull was watching them.

  Gabe almost laughed. Poor bastards. No sane person wanted to piss off Bull. Gabe’d learned early on just how much pain his oversized fist could deliver.

  “I’m glad you’re keeping an eye on them.” It meant Audrey would be safer. Gabe lifted her hand and kissed her fingers.

  “You know, it’s a relief to hear the assholes from this afternoon belong to that idiotic cult-militia.” In fact, the ugly feeling he’d had since finding the men harassing the women had eased.

  Bull and Caz looked puzzled.

  “The PZs aren’t really part of the town,” Gabe explained. “When I thought the locals let shit like that happen, I was pissed off.”

  “I get it.” Caz nodded. “Who wants to work to create something good if the residents aren’t…”

  “Aren’t worth it?” Audrey asked.

  “Yeah.” Gabe rubbed his chest. Felt as if a wound had been ripped open.

  “Who can say who’s actually worthy, though?” Caz gave them a wry smile. “I doubt I deserved the help I received. Especially from Mako.”

  Gabe considered. The sarge had taken a chance on them—they’d all acted more like street rats than humans. “Good point.”

  “You’re just like Mako, Gabe,” Audrey said softly. “You gave Knox a chance, even though he says he acted like a jerk.”

  Gabe kissed the top of her head. Apparently, Knox was confiding in her during his reading lessons, wasn’t he? Gabe might’ve let Knox off the hook, but it was Audrey who was steering the man onto a new path. A better one.

  “We’re going to have problems with that cult,” Bull stated. “I don’t know what Parrish is doing behind those fences, but he’s sure down on attracting attention. It’s why he doesn’t want new business in the area.”

  “Too bad for him,” Gabe said.

  “Speaking of businesses, how’s the leasing going?” Caz asked Bull.

  Enjoying the way Audrey leaned her head against his shoulder, Gabe drank his beer.

  Down the grassy slope, the lake lapped at their small dock. Earlier, Caz had pulled two kayaks from storage and tied them on the left side. The space for Hawk’s floatplane still stood empty, giving Gabe a pang.

  Their gathering had a Hawk-sized hole in it.

  When he returned his attention to the conversation, Bull and Caz were arguing about the empty building two doors down from Dante’s. Bull had an offer from a guy who wanted to open a liquor store.

  “I don’t like him,” Caz said. “Don’t lease to him, ’mano.”

  With a frown, Audrey tilted her head back to whisper, “How can Caz say no if the building belongs to Bull?”

  Gabe kissed her fingers. “Mako left the buildings to all of us in one big bundle.”

  “He did?” Her brows drew together, then she giggled. “You’re letting everyone in town believe Bull is the sole owner so he’ll receive all the grief?”

  She
caught on quickly, didn’t she? Gabe winked at her.

  “It’s because he’s the best with finances.” Caz grinned. “Really.”

  “You’re so full of it,” Bull said. “You’re right, Jul—Audrey. They wanted me to deal with all the hassle.”

  Gabe chuckled. “Hell, yeah.”

  As the evening grew later, they gathered their instruments, and talking gave way to an interval of music.

  It took a bit of coaxing, but Gabe got Audrey to sing with them. She had a beautiful clear soprano. Even better, once she relaxed, he could see the delight in her eyes.

  And the pleasure in his brothers’ expressions. They’d occasionally brought home women—not often—but none had fit in the way Audrey did.

  Caz did a quick drumroll to end the song and sat back. “I saw Knox and Chevy are repairing the B&B windows they broke.”

  “Yeah, they’re working hard.” Gabe snorted. “However, I’m back on their shit list since I warned them I’d be enforcing the dumping and hunting regs.”

  At Audrey’s quizzical look, he added, “I’m hearing rumors the two aren’t keen on following the rules, especially when it comes to hunting and fishing licenses.”

  She grinned. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “At least the vandalism has stopped. Good job, bro,” Bull said. “So, what’s the next step to attract tourists to Rescue?”

  Audrey opened her mouth, then closed it.

  Still shy, was she? Tenderness lodged in Gabe’s heart. “Do you have some ideas for us, Goldilocks?”

  Caz and Bull set their instruments to one side.

  “I…yes. Between working in the grocery and the roadhouse, I speak with a lot of tourists. They share what they’d like to see or feel is missing.”

  “Perfect. Let’s hear it, champ,” Bull said.

  Shyness gone, she laid out what she’d heard, point by point. Logically. Concisely.

  Gabe stared at her. After a second, he cleared his throat. “You are amazingly good at analyzing this business stuff.”

  She shrugged. “It’s what I do for a living.”

  “All right then. The greatest demand seems to be for more eating and lodging options.” Bull rubbed his hands together. “People who want to open restaurants and B&Bs will be my first priority. I’ve had inquiries on the small hotel building, too. I’ll sweeten a deal to get that moving.”

  “Audrey said Rescue needs recreational choices other than shopping. We could clean up the lakeside park,” Caz said.

  “That would be great.” She frowned at the lake. “I noticed fishermen aren’t always men, and often have their families with them. Maybe put in a playground?”

  “Perfect,” Gabe said. “That would benefit the tourists and the residents. Best of all worlds.”

  “How about advertising to attract people?” Bull asked.

  Caz frowned. “Maybe hold off on spending until we have more infrastructure.”

  “Agreed,” Gabe said.

  “Social media is free, though. We could try to get the town’s name out that way.” Audrey pulled her phone from her pocket and held it up in front of her. “People take selfies all the time. We could give them a selfie site. Like the ones that have a statue of an animal to take a picture with.”

  “How does a person standing with a bear help us?” Caz asked.

  “If the bear has a “Town of Rescue” sign at its feet, you have free advertising whenever pictures show up on Facebook and Instagram. As you beautify Main Street, keep an eye out toward creating interesting—and labeled—photo ops.”

  “Damn, you’re good.” Bull grinned. “I’ll get myself a moose statue and put out a sign by the lake with the Bull’s Moose Roadhouse logo.”

  “I don’t suppose there are any historic buildings?” Audrey asked.

  Caz shook his head. “The closest would have been Pearl’s Roadhouse, but it burned down around World War II. Bull’s was built on the original site.”

  Bull stroked his goatee. “I can devote a wall to the town’s history, especially Pearl’s.”

  “Good plan,” Gabe said. “Let’s see if the council and businesses will go for having a festival or two. We could use something to pull in Anchorage people between the fishing and ski seasons.”

  “Hold on, you guys. There’s too much to remember.” Audrey disappeared into the house and returned with a pen and paper. She quickly listed out their ideas.

  Gabe stared. Some had already slipped his mind. “You’ve got an impressive memory, Goldilocks.”

  “Yes, I do.” At her nonchalant response, he grinned. Calling her beautiful sent her into a tizzy. Remarking on her intelligence? Not a problem.

  He leaned over her shoulder to look at the lengthening list, and when he put his arm behind her back, she relaxed against him.

  And he smiled because, no matter how late the evening ended, she’d be in his bed afterward.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  On Thursday, Audrey strolled through the sunny downtown, heading for Lillian’s to do some weeding. As she walked, she jotted down notes on ways to make the downtown tourist friendly.

  The empty spot on the municipal building would be a great place for a map of the businesses and maybe one of the interesting places outside of town.

  She’d see what Lillian thought.

  Lillian was so much fun to talk with. It was wonderful to realize she’d become a good friend. Even more, she acted almost like…a mother. Pushing Audrey, encouraging her, always on her side. When Audrey had told her about Spyros, Lillian had been furious. And terrified for Audrey.

  Sarah had been the same.

  I have friends.

  And a lover. Oh, God. She pressed her hand over the quivers in her belly. Such a lover.

  She’d grumbled about getting up this morning. Laughing, he’d given her a steaming cup of coffee and pulled her outside to see a pair of loons on the lake.

  Why did sharing something so minor feel so special?

  Smiling, Audrey popped into the grocery store to get a soda and check when Dante would want a break.

  After getting his schedule, she stepped back out and stopped short. After the dimly lit store, the bright sun practically scorched her eyeballs. Remaining in the recessed doorway to let her eyes adjust, she opened her drink.

  A voice came from someone around the corner on the sidewalk. “…soon be littering the streets with their garbage, plastic bottles, and soda cans.” The man’s voice was familiar.

  A woman—no, two women—made sounds of distressed worry.

  “Yeah, we’re gonna be smothered with tourists, and, I hate to say it, but there’ll be druggies and perverts with them. Crime’ll go up.” The man heaved a sigh. “I got a bad feeling our small town will never be the same. Our kids won’t be safe here.”

  The man’s Southern drawl was quite distinctive, and Audrey straightened in surprise. That was Officer Baumer. Heavens, did Gabe realize his officer was spreading such negative propaganda about tourism?

  Surely, Officer Baumer knew how much the people here needed the tourists and the money they brought in, and yet he was scaremongering.

  When Audrey’s hands clenched, she realized she was awfully angry for an outsider to the town. But she wasn’t an Outsider, not any longer. She had jobs, friends, and people who’d helped her.

  She’d do her darndest to help them in return.

  Two women walked into the grocery’s recessed doorway.

  With a smile, Audrey moved out of their way and onto the sidewalk.

  Officer Baumer was strolling away, his back to her. Yes, she’d identified him correctly.

  Oh boy. Gabe wasn’t going to be pleased. Her stomach tightened because she’d have to tell him the bad news.

  After crossing the street, Audrey entered the municipal building.

  Two people were seated outside the health clinic doors. Behind the reception desk, Regina pointed an elderly man toward the municipal office. “Go there, and George will help you with the lic
ensing paperwork.”

  “Thank you.” The man walked around the desk and headed to the back of the building.

  Audrey lifted her hand. “Hi, Regina. Is the chief in? I need to talk with him a minute.”

  “He is. Go on in.” The receptionist pressed a button on her desk, giving the chief an alert that someone was entering the station.

  Inside, Audrey crossed the room Gabe called the bullpen and found him at his desk.

  Even seated, he looked powerful. She wasn’t sure why. Sure, he was tall and muscular. His strong jaw held the shadow of a dark beard—and his expression was often ruthless. The broad chest covered by the khaki uniform shirt, the badge, the heavy-duty belt with the weaponry—he had all the trappings.

  But, even when laughing, even when in jeans and a ripped T-shirt, he had an air of authority. Of being someone to lean on.

  The badge merely acknowledged what he was.

  He rose as she entered, then came around the desk with a frown. “You’re upset. What happened, sweetheart?”

  It was troubling…and heartwarming…that he could read her so easily.

  As he drew her to him, he smelled of the pine soap he used, freshly laundered fabric, and overwhelming masculinity.

  Wrapping her arms around his waist, she leaned into him.

  His steel-hard arms tightened, pulling her against his heavily muscled body. “Audrey?”

  “Everyone else still stumbles over my name. Why don’t you?”

  He huffed a laugh. “You never seemed like a Julie, and I realized it wasn’t your real name. Audrey sounds like you.”

  Cops. Of course, he’d never been comfortable calling her by a name he’d known was false.

  “I don’t think your name is what brought you into the station.” Amusement was clear in his smooth baritone. He stroked a warm hand up and down her back.

 

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