Justify

by Kristin Harte

  So, yeah…Gage had a gun in his hand and his dog on his heels as he made sure it was safe for us to go inside. I did as I was told, holding on to him as I followed him and Rex through the back hallway. The doors into the kitchen had been broken almost off the hinges, no longer looking as if a shotgun blast had torn through them. Something bigger and stronger had to have done that sort of damage—the explosion of a pressure cooker, apparently. I wasn’t ready to think about that just yet.

  “Sitting in the restaurant with me all day is your job now? You get paid for this?” My stomach dropped when Gage’s step stuttered almost imperceptibly. Something that seemed ridiculous—his earning a salary while guarding me—was actually quite likely because this was Justice. The Kennard family took care of their people, and Gage was definitely one of their people. “Oh my god, you get paid for this. To sit around, do nothing, and watch over me. Even when we’re at Bishop’s place and you’re watching SportsCenter? That seems excessive, don’t you think? Alder has to be losing so much money, and it’s all my fault. Well, not really my fault, only kind of my fault. I didn’t come here with guns blazing ready to steal someone away—they did. Those Soul Suckers. Still, I feel so bad. What if they need you at the mill? What if a machine goes down and someone gets hurt? What if—”

  “Katie.”

  Seriously, interrupting me to shut me up was both the best and worst thing the man could do. I hadn’t babbled like that in days—not once while we’d been holed up at Bishop’s place. But this was different—this was looking over the remains of the business I’d built, the one I’d left Denver to start when I’d realized how much I’d missed the safety of a town like Justice. The one that had brought me so much joy even as the long hours and constant workload had left me drifting without anyone to hang on to for security.

  Except Gage, who stared at me as I wrangled my nerves into submission and took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

  He didn’t look away, didn’t shy away from the issue at all. “I don’t get paid to watch you. Not really. And it wouldn’t matter if Alder kept my checks coming or not—your safety is my first priority.”

  How the man could make me melt when everything inside of me felt so frazzled, I had no idea. But he did. Especially when he took a step closer, grabbing my neck in that way he did, the roughness of his hand scraping against my jaw as he held me in place. Looked down at me with an intensity in his eyes that pushed everything else away.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice like gravel—rough and gritty. Weathered but strong. And I believed him.

  “Okay.”

  “Good. Now hang here for a second, and I’ll make sure the kitchen is clear.” Gage didn’t move though, not at first. He kept staring at me instead, kept his face right in front of mine. Kept me on the balls of my feet as I waited for something—waited for the kiss I could practically feel coming. The one I’d been craving for four very long days.

  The one he still wouldn’t give me.

  Frowning, he eventually let me go, pulled back with stiff, short steps as if every one of them hurt. They hurt me too. I was too afraid to say that, though. A deep breath, then Gage gave a hand signal to Rex so the dog would stay right next to my legs, and he disappeared through the destroyed doors. My heart rate spiked, my body tingling as I waited for him to return. As I fought the rising panic inside of me at being away from him.

  It didn’t take him long even if it felt like a lifetime. Within what had to be only seconds, he was back and grabbing my arm. Keeping his eyes locked on mine as my hands shook and my nerves jumped into high gear. As he pulled me through the doors and gave me space to walk into…

  My kitchen.

  The prep table looked completely warped, sitting against the wall at a rakish angle as if something had moved it quite suddenly. The pass-through shelves had a definite wave to them, but nothing a rubber mallet and some elbow grease wouldn’t fix. The stove and flat top appeared completely normal, and the fryer even seemed ready to go. I’d expected way worse.

  I let out the breath I’d been holding in a loud whoosh. “It doesn’t look as bad as I thought it would.”

  “Deacon figured the pressure cooker could have been one of those electric ones.” He pointed, directing me to see the popular electric countertop appliance wedged into the wall across the room. “That kept the explosion at this end of the space and left your machines in working order.”

  “I thought everything would be destroyed.”

  “We wouldn’t have done that to you, princess. Not unless there’d been no other way.”

  I couldn’t help it. I ran at him, jumping and clinging to his neck as he grabbed my hips and held me tight. I hadn’t even realized how anxious I’d been. Hadn’t acknowledged the fear within me. When Alder had told me they’d faked an explosion, I’d assumed they had ruined everything and I’d have to start all over again. Buy new equipment and tools, close the restaurant for months as I tried to find the money to rebuild.

  This was nothing like I’d expected.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, my forehead pressing against his chest. “Thank you for not destroying my business.”

  Gage chuckled. “You can thank Alder and Deacon—they spent a lot of time figuring out how they could make the story look real while saving your equipment.” He held me a little tighter, his hands hot where they’d slid up under my shirt. “Maybe just don’t thank them like this, okay?”

  “Never.”

  “Good.” He patted my ass, unwrapping himself from around me and setting me back on my feet. “Now, wait here. I want to check out the dining room.”

  He set Rex to guard me again, then disappeared through the mostly undamaged doors to the dining room. A good coat of paint and those would be back to looking perfect. Easy enough. Not an ideal situation—I hated that my place was closed and would need to be for at least a few more days—but not as bad as I’d thought. The men had truly taken care of me.

  God, I loved living in Justice.

  Gage stormed back into the kitchen, gun still drawn and a fierce look on his face. His “clearing the room” expression. With his wild beard and overall scary demeanor, most people wouldn’t have noticed the way his eyes softened when he saw me. How the shadow of fear disappeared when he verified I was still safely tucked away with his dog. Most people in town wouldn’t see how much the man worried.

  I saw. I saw too much.

  “What’s the plan?” he asked as he holstered his gun once more.

  I shrugged. “Clean up, I guess. I figure I can put the prep table back to rights and make sure all my gear is cleaned before I do anything too strenuous.”

  “You need me?” he asked, and though I knew he meant to help, my mind spun in a different direction. Yes, I needed him. To hold me again, kiss me the way he had that night in the gym, make me feel something other than fear and panic and the residual crappiness of not knowing when the Soul Suckers would strike again.

  I couldn’t say all that, though. “Just to pull the table over. I can handle the rest. You can be off duty this morning.”

  His lips quirked into a smile as he headed across the room to drag the heavy stainless-steel table back to where it belonged. He barely strained, his muscles bulging but his face calm as he pulled. So strong, this man. So filled with testosterone. I loved it.

  Once the prep table sat back in place, Gage settled onto his stool. After a single hand signal to Rex, the dog raced across the room and leaned against his calves. Both watching me. Two sets of dark eyes following my every move. I’d have said the attention made me uncomfortable, but that would be a lie. Maybe before the night of the attack, it would have, but no longer. Now? I felt guarded. Almost safe. Almost.

  It didn’t take me long to find my groove. I loaded everything I could into the industrial dishwasher, leaving the things I couldn’t sitting on the counter. Someone would have to wash those—not me. Gage had made sure to tell me I wasn’t allowed to put my hands in hot, soapy wat
er. Which worked fine for me. Even the idea of that made my burns hurt.

  I was halfway through the wash cycle, restocking pans along the shelves at the bottom of the table, when the back doorbell rang. The pan I’d been holding dropped to the floor, clattering across the tiles. My breath caught, and I spun around, reaching for the table edge to hold myself up. Seeking out the mountain man in the corner on an almost instinctual level. Gage was up and across the kitchen like a shot, his gun back in his hand. His eyes locked on what was left of the heavy swinging doors. Protecting me. Guarding me.

  Calming me.

  When the initial panic began to subside, I remembered what day it was. “It’s my produce delivery. I didn’t have time to cancel it.”

  Gage glanced at me before looking into the back hallway again. A quick, “Rex, guard,” and he disappeared through the doors, heading toward the alley entrance where—hopefully—my produce delivery driver didn’t look too threatening.

  I did my best to control my breathing, to keep the panic at bay. Rex helped, but this was just another pattern I’d learned over the last few days. If Gage was out of my sight, I worried. Once he came back into the room, the majority of that would go away. Not all…just most. The only time I truly felt safe was when I sat close enough to Gage to feel his heat, to touch. We weren’t doing any of that intentionally, but sometimes his arm brushed mine as we watched TV on the couch, or he sat on the edge of the bed to help me apply the burn cream and his leg would rest against mine. Those times…yeah, I lived for them.

  Gage appeared at the kitchen doors, his eyes on me as he let a man through with a hand truck stacked with boxes. My normal delivery driver—the same guy from the only restaurant supply company in the county whom I’d met while setting up the restaurant months ago. The order looking about the same size as I always got. Nothing out of the ordinary. Everything back to the new normal.

  Except I could barely breathe, and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I did my best to hide that, though. “Hey, Charlie.”

  Charlie grinned and shot me a wink. Old normal. Before the attack, I would have laughed and flirted, knowing the guy was happily married and it meant nothing. Now? New normal? I had a hard time pulling a smile for him.

  He didn’t seem to notice, though. “Miss Katie. You’re looking lovely this morning. What happened to your hands?”

  Because I had white bandages under gloves on each to keep them clean. I shot a glance at Gage, but he was busy staring down Charlie. Figured. “I, uh, had an accident in the kitchen. You know there’s no way to avoid getting burned.”

  “I do. I know that well.” Charlie looked over my shoulder—at Gage, I assumed—and his smile fell.

  “You doing okay?” he asked, suddenly looking concerned. “I noticed you weren’t open, and those doors look—”

  “They look like none of your goddamned business,” Gage said, a deep growl to his voice. He stood behind Charlie, arms crossed over his broad chest, a scowl on his face. Scary soldier mode in effect.

  “It’s okay,” I said, though whether to Charlie or Gage, I couldn’t say. “I was a little careless, and a pressure cooker exploded. One of those electric ones, you know?”

  Charlie nodded. “My wife has one. I thought they were supposed to be safer than the stovetop ones.”

  I held up my hands and shrugged. “So did I. But at least it just ruined the back doors and not my stove, right?”

  “Yeah. Right.” He didn’t seem convinced, but he also didn’t matter. Gage did, and he looked positively lethal. Even Rex appeared ready to attack—his ears up, back straight, and standing still as a statue beside his owner. Ready to fight, the both of them.

  “You know,” Charlie said, still looking awfully uncomfortable under Gage’s scrutiny. “If I call the boss, I might be able to take some of this stuff back.”

  I was removing my plastic gloves and shaking my head before he finished. That would take more time, and I just wanted him gone. “No need. If I don’t open today or tomorrow, I’ll hold a giveaway for my customers. That food won’t go to waste.”

  Charlie nodded, pulling out the tablet he used to verify orders. Faster than any other time before, Charlie ran through my list, pointing to each box in turn as he pulled off the lids to show me the contents before setting them next to the walk-in. We kept a casual sort of conversation going—how nicely the kale was coming in for the region, the upcoming winter weather forecasts, the flooding that had hit the area at the end of the rainy season. Nothing deep or personal, yet something about the way Gage watched us—the way he watched me—caused my heart to race and my cheeks to stay flushed. Charlie seemed to feel it as well—the man hauled ass out the door the second I’d signed for my delivery.

  I’d never been so happy to see Charlie leave…at least until Gage spoke again.

  “You were nervous around him.”

  “What?”

  Gage moved closer, all long legs and smooth strides, ending in a lean against the other side of the counter. Bracing his arms on the stainless-steel top and causing the muscles in his biceps and forearms to flex. “Charlie made you nervous.”

  I had to tear my eyes away from his arms. From the patterns of color and shading creating pictures all along his skin. “He never did before, but today…”

  “Today was different.”

  I nodded.

  “But even before today, I made you nervous.”

  Oh. That observation brushed against something I didn’t want to talk about, the attraction to him I’d tried to deny. But four days of him sleeping on the couch and taking care of me had busted a hole through my filter, so I answered honestly. Unable not no. “You do sometimes, yeah.”

  The way he cocked his head sent a shiver of anticipation up my spine. “Why?”

  “You’re a bit intimidating.”

  He frowned. “Intimidating.”

  “Yes. Intimidating. Your size and the beard and the whole wild thing you’ve got going on.” I waved my hand in a circle to encompass the him I meant. “Intimidating.”

  With the look of a predator hunting his prey, he stalked around the counter. Staring hard. His eyes pinning me in place. He didn’t stop until he had me trapped against the counter, until he brushed my body with his. Until he was close enough for me to feel the heat from him through my clothes.

  Safe. I felt safe, even if he was the most dangerous man I’d ever met.

  “I never wanted to intimidate you.”

  I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. So close, so very, very close. Like the other night in the gym—when he’d kissed me. When he’d pushed me right to the brink with his hands and his mouth and those dirty words he’d said. I would have done anything to relive that moment with a better ending, would have given up almost anything for another chance at getting him alone and in that position. But if I understood the heat burning deep in his gaze, I might not have to give up anything.

  I licked my bottom lip, watching as his eyes tracked the movement. “You may not mean to intimidate me, but you do. It’s simply part of you being you.”

  He hummed and leaned over me, making my heart race. Making my breath catch as my nipples tightened and my skin itched for his touch. Every sense heightened, every feeling multiplied, until I was a shaking mess of girl right on the edge of…something. Something I’d been craving for days.

  Gage stopped as his lips came close enough to brush mine, as his breath whispered across them with every word. “Is this intimidating?”

  “No.”

  “You’re shaking.”

  I was. “Because I want you so much.”

  His lips kicked up into a cocky sort of smile, one that encapsulated the man before me. But that expression faded fast, and in the next second, he kissed me. Pressed himself against me from head to toe, wrapped his arms around my body, and positively took control of my mouth. Soft and sweet, the kiss lingered, growing in intensity then fading back. His hands clutching at me then softening to stroke me gently. Too gently.
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  “I won’t break,” I murmured when he retreated again. When he groaned and moved as if to end the kiss. Not happening. I clutched him closer, trying to rise onto the balls of my feet to reach him. Trying to beg for more with my actions instead of my words.

  But Gage was nothing if not in control. He refused to give in, holding me at bay even as he brushed his lips against mine one more time. As he gripped my flesh in a bruising hold.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Him pulling away hurt. It hurt so bad. “You made me a promise. Told me what you were going to do to me the next time you got me alone.”

  Gage froze, staring down at me with a fire burning behind his eyes. “I promised to lick you all over.”

  “You’re late on delivery.”

  With a growl, he grabbed me by the back of the thighs and lifted me, setting my ass on the edge of the counter before licking a path down my neck. He took from me, his grip tight and his kisses harder. Wilder than before. And fuck, did I love it.

  He spread me wide, forcing his body between my legs. Making room. But oh my god, his mouth. So hot. So good. So fucking filthy.

  “Is that a reminder to lick your pretty pussy, princess? I’m pretty sure that’s what I said I’d do—lick you until you were good and wet, then suck your little clit. Own it. I said I’d beg for it, didn’t I? I will, too. Because trust me, it’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

  Oh god, his hands felt so good on my body, his beard rough against my skin in a way that I’d somehow missed. “Then why haven’t you even kissed me?”

  “You’ve been recovering.”

  “I only burned my hands, not the rest of me.”

  He laughed, the rumble more something I felt than heard. “You’re right. I’ve been remiss in my attention.” He slid a hand up my leg, all the way up. Not stopping until his fingers pressed against my pussy. Traced it. Circled my clit and made me moan and arch and wish for more. I might have been the one begging at that point.

  But Gage was the one promising to take care of me. “I’ve wanted to lick you so bad these last few days, but I thought you were hurting too much so I left you alone.” He pressed his thumb against my clit, the pressure hard and rough just like him. And so, so good. “I’m going to fix that right now.”