But then I bit down, and it was my turn to groan. The texture of the meat and the chip was a delight, and the slight sweetness of the sauce countered the saltiness of the chip. Heat from the jalapeños gave the bite just enough kick to make it interesting, and the cheese sauce had the perfect creaminess to keep everything from being too harsh. Overall, a total win.
“Better than I thought,” I said once I’d swallowed. I looked up to find Gage watching me again, his eyes that same liquid darkness I’d noticed earlier. Burning into me. I could have stared into those inky depths for hours, could have gotten lost in them. Could have begged for him to tell me what that heated look meant because it brought something to life inside of me.
Sadly, I didn’t do any of that.
Shye barreled into the kitchen, a grin on her face and a tray in her hands. “Dessert orders should be starting in the next few minutes, and five guys have asked if you’re coming out to say hi tonight. Young guys. You seem to have a fan club, Miss Katie.” She disappeared into the walk-in freezer, probably to pull the vanilla ice cream for the peach cobbler special. Which reminded me of all the work still to be done.
Spell…broken.
“Duty calls.” I shrugged and nodded toward the plate. “Eat up. I’d hate to have that all go to waste.”
“I wouldn’t waste a bite of your food.” He frowned, his heavy brow falling slightly as he did. “Though, I like canned cranberry sauce. I thought only TV chefs attempted homemade.”
“I’ll make you the real stuff.” If he kept looking at me like that, I’d make him an entire Thanksgiving feast just to watch him enjoy it. “Maybe a turkey sandwich special with dressing and cranberry sauce. I’ll buy a can, too. Then you can try them at the same time and taste the difference.”
“That seems like a lot of work.”
I shrugged, knowing it was. Not caring because it meant I could do something for him. “It’d be fun, though.”
Gage quirked another smile my way, setting the butterflies fluttering again. But before he could answer me, the printer began spitting out dessert orders.
He nodded at the whining machine. “What’s for dessert?”
“Peach cobbler with homemade vanilla ice cream on top. And I made that cinnamon whipped cream you like so much.”
“Jesus, I could lick up every drop of your cream.” His face suddenly stilled, his eyes darting to mine as if he’d just said something wrong. As if he hadn’t meant for those words to slip out.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the naughty things his tongue could do to my body. About all the things I could do to his. About running my hands over every inch of him and feeling those thick muscles tense as he came. As he lost all that control he seemed to have.
Focus…gone. Luckily, I wasn’t a stranger to making normal sentences sound naughty. “At least wait until you’ve got my peaches in your mouth first. They’re amazingly sweet.”
His eyes burned into me, making me flush. “I have no doubt about that, princess.” He nodded toward my work area, grabbing his plate and stepping back from the counter. Heading toward the door to the dining room. “You’d better get to work.”
“Right. Yeah. Dessert.”
He grinned again, leaving me even more flustered. “Rex, guard.”
And then he was gone, and I was left with his dog, an uncomfortable empty sensation, and wet panties.
And a lot of orders for peach cobbler a la mode.
The muscle memory of setting up plate after plate of cobbler took hold, the concentration necessary to present dessert properly sweeping over me in a calming wave that knocked out everything else. All that was left in my world—all there was room for in my head—was the food, the flavors, and the pretty, pretty hills of sweetness I needed to build.
And if every dark spot I saw reminded me of Gage’s eyes, well, that was just a coincidence.
Chapter Three
Gage
The next morning, I cursed every bump on the way to the job site. How could I not when I was pretty sure I’d jacked off more in the hours after I left The Baker’s Cottage than I ever had before. Even horny teenager me hadn’t gone at it enough to be chafed. Adult me had…all because of nachos and peaches.
Well, really because of soft, pink lips opening so sweetly for me as I placed food between them. I still don’t know what I’d been thinking when I’d fed Katie, but thank fuck I had. That picture—those lips parting and taking what I had to give—would be spank bank material for the rest of my life. And when she’d thrown out the comment about eating her peaches? I’d had to leave the room before I pinned her against the counter and got a real good taste of her. One I’d make sure she didn't soon forget.
I cringed as the ATV hit a patch of rock that caused twinges to shoot up my poor, aching dick. I’d truly screwed myself the night before. I’d let myself lose control enough to believe the woman could be mine. No way would I stop now until I had that woman in my bed, which meant I had to up my game and put in some work.
Once I’d arrived on site and parked the ATV, I adjusted myself subtly as I swung my leg off the ATV. I didn’t need to be there—wasn’t scheduled and didn’t have an emergency—but Hunter had needed to take the day off. When I’d taken the call, I’d figured I could pop over and make sure the machinery ran well for the morning shift. Besides, Katie would know something was up if I came by the restaurant so early. I could get some work done before I went bulldogging after her.
The second I took in the logging team, every thought of Katie and those soft, pink lips disappeared. Even my aching dick no longer starred in the front of my mind. With just one glance at Camden, I moved straight into damage control mode and thanked every deity there was that I’d showed up.
Rough no longer described the way he looked. Haggard, sickly, waxy—all better descriptors. His team seemed to be noticing too. They kept shooting worried glances at each other, and one guy seemed to be sticking awfully close to their site manager. I had a feeling if Camden gave them a direction, there’d be a lot of silent conversation before the team decided if it was a good idea or not. And that was a dangerous thing when cutting down trees.
I didn’t think twice before grabbing my phone and calling in. Not to Bishop—he handled sales, though he could deal with other issues. No, this one needed to go right to the top. To the big boss running the company. I called Alder Kennard.
He answered on the second ring. “What’s up?”
“We’ve got a problem. It’s Camden.”
Alder paused, the silence obvious, before carefully asking, “What’s the situation?”
I watched Camden interact with Vol, an old-timer who’d been logging these woods since before I’d been born. The old man seemed to be running interference, keeping Camden occupied while the team, led by Vol’s son, shifted positions. It looked to me as if Camden had been headed for the skidder.
All the felled timber had to be pulled out of the forest to the landing site for loading onto the trucks that would take it to the mill. That was the job of the skidder—a giant piece of machinery with a boom and grapple bucket to grab, lift, and pull the logs off the site. The beast scarred the earth beneath it and could take out the whole team if the operator didn’t pay attention to what they were doing. Vol always paid attention, but I doubted Camden could focus on his own hand if he had to right then.
And Camden? He looked like my dad. Not literally—the two were physically as opposite as possible—but similar in how they acted. My dad had been an alcoholic, a functioning one, but an addict nonetheless. I knew the look of someone who was still burning off the night before. My dad had worn it often, and there was Camden doing the same. It was a “been drinking all night but trying to appear sober” sort of look. One that should be nowhere near a logging operation.
There was no sugarcoating that shit. “Camden’s been drinking.”
“How bad?” Alder’s voice no longer seemed cautious. He sounded pissed as hell.
“I’m
having to guess here, but bad enough that I’m about to siphon the diesel out of the skidder to keep him from running it.”
“Don’t let him touch a goddamned thing. I’m on my way.”
Right. Don’t let the site manager touch the equipment. No problem there.
“Yo, Rusty,” I hollered once I’d pocketed my phone. The man in question looked up then hurried over at my wave. He fit his nickname—Rusty had a shock of dark red hair on the top of his head and covering half his face and a smattering of freckles across his pale skin. The kid was our newest employee—a silviculturist working with the crew to make sure we left the forest healthier than when we started. He knew the business well, was quick and smart in an unsafe environment, and he had the reputation of being observant. Real fucking observant.
Tall and thick with muscle, he powered up the rocky rise in no time. “What’s up, Gage?”
“You notice any issues on site this morning?”
A single jaw clench gave him away. “Nothing that hasn’t already been brought up and squashed.”
So the team was sticking behind their leader. I liked loyalty, but I didn’t like stupidity. “Cam been using the machinery?”
“No. Old Vol’s been making sure of it.”
Just like I’d thought. Vol knew this job better than anyone in the company, including Alder himself. He’d been friends with the late Kennard patriarch back in the day. His been-there-done-that attitude tended to settle the young hotheads we hired, and he took good care of his team, especially when his son worked with him. He should have been retired by now, but at that moment, I was real fucking thankful he hadn’t.
Rusty wasn’t who I needed to talk to. “Okay. Get back to work and send Vol over.”
The two switched spots, Rusty keeping close to Camden as the old man left his side. Real observant, that one. He’d be a good man to put on rotation for guarding Main Street.
“What can I do for you, Gage?” Vol asked when he stood on the hunk of rock at my side.
I’d needed to go easy on Rusty. Vol required no such thing. “You letting Cam lead this site like he is?”
“I’ve got him covered.”
“You shouldn’t need to cover your site manager.”
“Yeah, well, he shouldn’t have lost his wife either.”
True fact, and yet… “You going to cover for him when he kills another teammate because he’s too drunk to react?”
A flash of something close to worry flashed across his face, but it disappeared just as quickly. “We take care of our own in Justice, and Cam needs a little extra help right now.”
I could respect that opinion. I didn’t like it because I could already see how badly this day could go if they lost control for just a moment, but I could respect it. Loyalty above all else—if I hadn’t have known better, I’d have guessed Vol had been a SEAL.
“Okay. Keep doing what you’re doing. I’m here if you need backup, and Alder’s on his way.”
Vol nodded, looking relieved as he headed back to work. Logging was dangerous work on a good day—between the machinery, the locations, and the simple physics of felling 200-foot-tall trees, accidents were inevitable. No one wanted a team member to go down on their shift, though. Not even someone trying to show an old friend some compassion.
I hung back from the team, watching over them as they worked on the felled timber. Had they been dropping trees, I’d have put a stop to the whole operation. Cutting off the limbs and readying the timber to be yarded to the landing site was a lot less dangerous. Still, I stuck around, keeping an eye on Camden as he sort of did his job. He knew I was there, had caught my gaze once or twice, but he made no move to acknowledge me. Fucker had to know he was busted.
Alder arrived a good half hour after I’d called, pulling up on an ATV like the rest of the guys did. “No accidents?”
“None yet.”
“Fucking drunk at work. What is he thinking?”
“He’s not.” I shrugged when Alder looked my way. “He’s grieving. Thinking isn’t his highest priority. Trying to figure out if he wants to live through the pain or not is.”
“Yeah, well…a drunk on a job site could lead to a lot more people grieving. I can’t have it.”
No, he couldn’t.
Alder stormed off toward Camden, pulling him aside and indicating Vol should take over for a few. I moved close enough to listen, to back Alder up if he needed it, but not so close as to interfere. Dealing with disciplinary actions against employees of Kennard Mills wasn’t part of my job. Making sure Alder made it back down off the mountain was.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Camden yelled, obviously having lost his temper. Alder must have told him he knew he’d been drinking. I couldn’t hear both sides of the conversation—Alder kept his voice low and controlled—but Camden was loud enough for the both of them.
“Yeah, I had a few drinks last night. So what?”
“I’m controlled. I can do my goddamned job just fine.”
“Right. You’re so worried about everyone. You weren’t too worried about Leah, were you?”
That one…I knew it hit Alder hard. As the oldest Kennard brother, he was tasked with taking care of the town. We didn’t have police or fire departments this far out into the hills. With fewer than 350 residents, the city of Justice couldn’t afford them anyway, so the Kennard family handled those jobs themselves.
When Camden’s wife, Leah, had died in that fire set by the Soul Suckers, it’d broken something inside of Camden. It’d broken something inside of Alder as well. And Camden had just ground all those broken pieces with his boot, purposely causing pain.
Alder stayed solid, though. Quiet. Looking like a leader. Camden wasn’t wanting to be led.
“Fuck you and your whole family. You didn’t do shit for me. You didn’t keep Leah safe. You fucking failed, and I lost the one woman I’ll ever give a fuck about because of it.”
Alder reached for Cam, but the younger man shoved him back. That was quite literally my cue to step in.
“Keep your hands off him,” I said, making sure I had Cam’s attention. “Say what you need to, but don’t get physical.”
Camden’s bloodshot eyes met mine, his anger palpable. “Fuck you, Shepherd.”
“That’s enough,” Alder said, but Cam wasn’t listening. In fact, he pulled off his fluorescent safety vest instead.
“You know what?” Camden asked just before he tossed the vest at Alder. “I’m done here. Fuck this job and your mill. Fuck this whole town. I quit, and I’m leaving Justice. Good luck against the Soul Suckers. Hope they don’t murder your woman like they did mine. Oh, right—you’ll actually do something to stop them from getting to Shye. Leah wasn’t important enough to you.”
Alder’s face fell, the pain those words caused obvious. Camden may have been grieving, but he was also an asshole for that one. Before I could do much more than get pissed, though, Camden stormed off up the hill. Heading for the vehicles that would take him back to his truck.
“Camden,” Alder yelled. “Go sleep it off at Deacon’s motel before you lock that decision down. You’ll always be family to us.”
Camden didn’t respond. I couldn’t let him leave drunk, though.
“Rusty,” I hollered, moving away from Alder and waiting until the redhead stood close enough to give him directions. “Go with him. Make sure he doesn’t kill anyone else, even if that means following his truck all the way to the county line.”
“And if he’s out of control?”
Fuck. Alder would never approve what I was about to say, but no way could I let Camden kill someone else because he’d drunk too much. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have let him leave the site at all. “You ever drive the bumper cars at the state fair?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Knock him off the road. Carefully.”
Rusty didn’t even flinch. Instead, his face grew serious, his eyes locking in on Camden’s retreating figure. “On it.”
The m
an ran up the hill, chasing after his former site manager. Former, for sure, because there was no way Camden came back after that fight. As much as we’d hoped to get ahead of it, Camden was in free fall. He hadn’t hit bottom yet. Hell, he couldn’t even see the bottom yet. And maybe he never would—maybe he’d keep falling until he gave up and accepted the bottom didn’t exist for him. That’s what had happened with my dad—the man never even attempted to clean himself up. He’d died just as much of a drunken mess as he’d lived. Camden deserved better, but he’d have to be willing to put the work in to get it.
I didn’t have a lot of words for Alder when he came back my way, but there was one question I knew needed asking. “You okay?”
“I’ve known him since he was in diapers. Knew his parents. I can’t believe it’s come down to this.” Alder took his moment, giving himself a few seconds to absorb the loss. Then the man did exactly what I knew he would—he yelled for Vol, getting right back down to business. And like the good man he was, Alder shook Vol’s hand when the older man approached and gave him the respect he deserved. “I know you’re not looking for the promotion, but I need you to be site lead for now.”
Vol nodded once, likely expecting the job after Camden’s fallout. “No problem, but I’d prefer it to be temporary.”
“Understood. I’ll start looking for others to take the spot right away. If you know of anyone you think might be ready, let me know.”
“I’ll make a list, though I’ll tell you now, my son will be on it. That’s not bias—I think he’s ready for the role.” Vol nodded to where Rusty had just disappeared into the forest. “He okay?”
Camden. Alder frowned deep at that question. “Says he’s leaving Justice.”
Vol sighed, the weight of those words dragging him down and making him look his age. “Not the best plan, but maybe getting away from the memories will give him some peace.”
Justify Page 3