Here I am, barefoot in Gabriel's kitchen, wearing nothing but his shirt, probably looking like I've been thoroughly fucked. Which, let's be honest, I have been. Multiple times.
Colt appears in the kitchen doorway behind Gabriel, pieces of our discarded clothing dangling from his fingers like trophies, his grin pure trouble but his green eyes carrying an edge I can't quite read.
"Well, well," Colt says, his gaze lingering on my bare legs just a little too long, the sarcasm in his voice sharp enough to cut.
Something dark flickers across Beau's face. A muscle in his jaw ticking with what looks suspiciously like jealousy barely held in check. His hands clench at his sides, and I catch the way his eyes track the length of Gabriel's shirt on my body like he's memorizing every detail.
Gabriel's expression shifts in response, becomes something darker and more possessive as he notices the way both men are looking at me. His blue eyes narrow slightly, and I catch the way his own hands tense at hissides, like he's fighting the urge to step between me and their hungry gazes.
The words hang in the air like a challenge, loaded with everything that's been building between all of us for weeks.
My instincts are screaming at me to run, to find an escape route before this powder keg explodes. But my feet stay rooted to the floor, caught between three different kinds of want burning in their eyes.
Gabriel's protective possession, radiating from him like heat waves.
Colt's hungry desire, barely leashed behind that devil-may-care grin.
Beau's frustrated longing, all the more powerful for being so carefully controlled.
And for the first time, it feels like we're all seeing this situation for exactly what it is. Without pretense, without hiding, without the careful dance we've been doing around each other.
The air crackles with tension and possibility and the promise of something that could either destroy us all or set us free from the careful boundaries we've been pretending exist.
I take a shaky breath, my heart hammering so hard I'm sure they can all hear it, and realize that whatever happens next, there's no going back to the way things were.
The careful game we've been playing just became very, very real.
23
Lucy
The silence stretches between us like a live wire, crackling with everything we're not saying.
Gabriel's possessive satisfaction radiates from where he stands by the doorway like heat from a forge, Colt's forced grin plays at the corners of his mouth while his green eyes stay sharp and assessing, and Beau's jaw remains tight with barely controlled tension that could snap at any moment.
"Coffee," I blurt out, my voice too bright, too forced, like I'm overcompensating for a guilty conscience. "Does anyone want coffee?"
At the exact same moment, Gabriel's deeper voice cuts through the air with sheriff-like authority. "What are you two doing here this early?"
The overlapping words create a beat of awkwardness that makes me want to melt into the floor like spilled sugar. Instead, I turn toward the coffee maker with more focusthan the task requires, grateful for something to do with my hands.
"After last night's excitement," Colt says, his tone carefully neutral as he sets the bundled clothing on the kitchen counter like evidence in a case, "figured I'd check if there are any new leads on Roy Cutter's whereabouts. Bastard's still out there somewhere."
Gabriel's expression sharpens, possessive heat cooling into professional focus as he shifts into sheriff mode. "I was just about to head to the station for follow-up. State boys are coordinating with neighboring counties, but so far we've got nothing concrete. He's either holed up somewhere or already halfway to Canada."
I pour coffee into four mugs, hyperaware of the careful dance happening behind me. It's not hostile, exactly, but there's a guarded quality to their voices that speaks of testing boundaries, of figuring out new rules for a game none of us has played before.
"We also decided yesterday we'd do a herd check today," Colt continues, and I catch the way his eyes flick to Beau before returning to Gabriel. "Calving season's keeping us busy. Could take most of the day to cover all the pastures."
I turn to hand them their coffee, and that's when Beau finally speaks, his voice quiet but carrying an edge that makes my stomach flip like I'm on a roller coaster.
"We were wondering if Lucy might want to come with us." His gray eyes find mine across the kitchen,and there's something vulnerable hidden beneath the measured control, like he's bracing for rejection.
"Course, I understand if she'd rather stay here. She's probably got better things to do than chase cattle around all day."
The words are innocent enough, but the subtext hits me like a physical blow. He's not just talking about today's plans. He's giving me an out, a graceful way to choose Gabriel without having to hurt anyone's feelings directly.
The unspoken message hangs in the air like smoke:You've made your choice. We get it. We'll step aside.
