24. Wyatt

Chapter Twenty-Four

WYATT

The air turned cooler as we climbed the creaky staircase to Gage’s old bedroom. Unlike the polished lower level, the second floor seemed forgotten and frozen in time. Even the light felt softer here, filtering through dusty windows and stretching in long, dappled shadows across the wooden floorboards.

Gage paused with his hand on the latch of a door carved with thorny vines. “This is it,” he said, pushing it open with a creak and sweeping an arm out in exaggerated welcome. “Home, sweet home…or close enough.”

The room smelled of old wood and the lingering spice of Gage’s aftershave. A faded quilt covered a brass bed, and the only furniture was an old-fashioned steamer trunk, an end table, and a dresser made of dark wood. No knickknacks, no sports gear or posters, just a mirror and a gilt-framed landscape. Not exactly the art Gage would have picked.

“Did you redecorate when you came home?” I asked, turning a slow circle.

He gave the room a disinterested glance and shrugged. “Nah, it’s always been like this. I never had a real bedroom as a kid, so I didn’t know what to do with this much space. Safer to leave it how I found it.”

Was that it, I wondered, or did he still not trust it to last? My throat tightened, but I knew better than to show even a flicker of sympathy. Gage didn’t want or need that from me. Instead, I moved to the window and looked out at the garden below.

The place had seen better days. Tangled vines wrapped around an old greenhouse, choking the few struggling seedlings left in the flower beds. Still beautiful in a broken way, a piece of fading history being reclaimed by nature.

“They say that’s where it all started,” Gage said behind me. “Where Atticus first saw Rosalind. Love at first sight.”

I turned, and whatever I was about to say died in my throat. Gage had stripped off his damp clothes and stood gloriously naked, rummaging through his closet. His back was a map of muscle and faded scars. My mouth went dry as he stepped into a pair of dress slacks. Covering that ass was a tragedy.

“I know how he must’ve felt,” I managed to say.

Gage flashed a lazy grin over his shoulder. “No, you don’t. But I do.”

Heat curled through my belly, slow and primal, making it nearly impossible to think straight. All I knew was I wanted him now. Wanted to touch him, protect him—forever, if he’d let me.

I cleared my throat, but my voice still came out raw when I said, “I didn’t know this was a formal dinner.”

“Old habit,” he replied, shrugging as he buttoned his slacks. “Boone used to lecture us about table manners until he was blue in the face. One of the only lessons that ever stuck.”

“What other rules did you have growing up?” I asked, leaning against the window frame. I loved talking to him. Just talking and enjoying his company.

He strapped a watch onto his wrist, an expensive piece he wouldn’t have bought for himself. I’d seen both Mason and Dominic wearing the same watch. “Biggest one? No boys or girls in the bedrooms.”

“Guess I just broke that one,” I said wryly.

Gage’s eyes sparkled with mischief, wicked and beautiful, just like him. “I’ve never been good with rules.”

I threw back my head and laughed. “Tell me about it. I lost count of how many times I dragged your ass home in my patrol car.”

“Which time was your favorite?” he asked, raising one eyebrow. “The fireworks? Or when Ben and I stole Gideon’s truck and raced Mason’s bike through the cane fields?”

“Definitely the truck,” I said. “Y’all were lucky you didn’t wreck it.”

“Lucky you caught us,” Gage teased, lighting up at the memory.

“I should’ve booked you for it. But the look on Boone’s face?” I shook my head and let out a long, low whistle. “Man, that was something else.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “He could always make us feel like idiots without even raising his voice.”

“Just like you handle those kids downstairs,” I pointed out. “They need adults who are honest with them.”

He hummed thoughtfully, leaning against the dresser, shirtless and effortlessly sexy. The playful gleam in his eyes faded, replaced by something darker as his gaze climbed my body. When he crooked a finger, I didn’t hesitate.

I was on him fast, pinning him against the dresser and kissing him hard. My hands were on his hips, tugging him close, groaning at how hard he was beneath his slacks. He kissed me back enthusiastically, plundering my mouth with his tongue until I gasped. Then, just as quickly as he’d started the fire, he slipped out of my arms and left me burning.

“We’ll be late,” he teased, shaking out a crisp dress shirt and slipping his arms through the sleeves.

I braced a hand on the dresser and hung my head, gritting my teeth so hard my molars creaked. “I don’t care if we’re late,” I growled, backing him into the wall and lapping at his throat.

Gage hissed and tilted his head to give me better access, even as he slipped his hands between our bodies to button his shirt. “Trust me, you don’t want to leave Dom and Gideon alone down there.”

“Dominic needs a fucking mood adjustment,” I groaned, resting my forehead against his neck. My body was shaking, and I couldn’t even hide it. All I wanted was to throw him on the bed and pound him until the antique frame snapped. But I couldn’t. Gage was already sliding out of my arms and grabbing his shoes. “Just…just give me a minute,” I gasped, willing my erection away.

“Don’t got a minute,” he purred, smacking my ass as he breezed out. “But I’ll make it up to you later.”

“You better,” I muttered, adjusting my fly and following him out the door.

Tonight was going to be agony.

Gage led me down a narrow set of stairs that I assumed had once been reserved for servants, tucked away from the rest of the house like a secret and spilling us into a hall that led to a formal dining room.

A long, polished table stretched beneath an antique chandelier that probably cost more than my first car. The chairs were carved from dark, heavy wood, and even though the cushions were worn thin, there was no mistaking the quality. I knew the family well enough to understand replacing them was never about money—Boone had left them a small fortune. It was about history. This house wasn’t just a roof over their heads; it was the thing that saved them.

I scanned the room out of habit more than nerves. I’d known each brother, individually and as a pack, long enough to know what to expect. They’d invited me for one reason: to weigh me, measure me, and decide if I was worth keeping around. If I wasn’t? They’d let me know in ways that hurt.

I’d been craving nothing but another taste of the salt on Gage’s skin, but the rich, buttery smell of roasted pecans snapped me back. My stomach growled as I eyed the spread. Silver trays overflowed with sweet potato tarts, pickled okra, and honey drizzled cornbread.

None of it had been touched.

Gideon sat at the head of the table like a king in a high-backed throne, all sharp lines and regal features. “Nice of y’all to join me,” he said dryly, tracking us with those copperhead eyes of his as we entered.

“Can’t be late if no one else is here,” Gage quipped without missing a beat. He dropped carelessly into a chair and plucked a pecan from one of the trays, popping it into his mouth and chewing noisily. “Since it was his idea, Mason should’ve been the first one here.”

“He’s had a lot on his plate lately. Working on something important.”

Gage feigned shock and clutched his chest. “More important than family dinner? Say it ain’t so.”

Gideon ignored him and turned his attention on me. “You should take that seat,” he said, nodding to the chair at his right. It faced the door, giving me an unbroken view of everyone coming or going. Exactly the spot I’d have picked in unfamiliar territory.

“If they don’t show soon, I’m starting without them,” Gage threatened, swiping a piece of cornbread and dragging it through a puddle of honey. Melted butter oozed between his fingers, and he glanced at me with a sly look and licked a drop from the edge of his thumb. Sexiest damn thing I ever saw. I shifted uncomfortably, adjusting beneath the table, and he caught my gaze and winked.

The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

Gideon’s lips twitched. “Patience is a virtue, little brother.”

“Patience?” Gage scoffed, grinning hugely. “Never heard of her.”

The priest’s rare, unguarded smile caught me off guard. There was more warmth in that smile than I’d credited him with having. But Gage was like that—so happy to be alive that he lit up the darkest moments without even trying.

Watching them like this, it struck me that no matter how much I’d missed Gage over the years…his brothers had missed him just as much.

Then Dominic walked in, and all traces of warmth vanished. Since I was facing the door, I spotted him first, but I swore Gideon’s body tensed with near instant recognition without even looking. His spine stiffened, and the laughter in his face vanished like mist off the bayou.

Unbothered by the chilly reception, Dominic strolled in with his usual swagger. Like usual, he was dressed all in black, crisp slacks and loose-fitting shirt, both so perfectly tailored that he managed to be the best dressed man in the room without even trying. His gaze swept the room, lingering for a moment on Gideon before he turned and murmured something to the hulking man behind him. The man nodded and melted back into the shadows of the hallway.

“Damn, you’re really gonna make Marcel wait in the hall?” Gage asked, pulling out a chair beside him for his brother. “Why does he put up with you?”

“It’s his job.” Dominic ignored the offered seat and claimed the one beside me, dragging it obnoxiously close. His cologne was sharp and herbal, strong enough to get my eyes watering. He was trying to annoy me on purpose, and I refused to rise to the bait.

Gage’s grin faltered. He leaned forward anxiously, ready to intervene. “Don’t start,” he warned.

I nudged Gage’s foot under the table. His glare shifted to me, but I shook my head, signaling to let it go. Antagonizing Dominic was rarely worth it.

Dominic caught the exchange and smirked. “Listen to your deputy, Gage,” he drawled in a voice filled with so much condescension I had to fight the urge to shove his head through a wall. “He likes to pretend he has your best interests at heart.”

“Don’t be a dickhead—” Gage started, gripping the table so hard his knuckles turned white.

Gideon cut him off, fixing his brother with an annoyed look. “Quit pushing their buttons,” he said wearily.

“But he makes it so easy,” Dominic protested, all cool amusement, like he thought he was holding every card in the deck. “Last I checked, nothing was off-limits at family dinner. Are we making exceptions for boyfriends?”

“You got something to say to me?” I asked, locking eyes with him.

It was the wrong call; I knew it the second I saw the calculating gleam in his eyes. He studied me, searching for cracks and weaknesses to exploit. This was a game to him, one he’d perfected long ago.

“You’ve always been protective of Gage, haven’t you? It was cute for a while… but then he grew up, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. Not exactly professional, Deputy.”

Gage growled low in his throat, seconds from losing it. His leg was bouncing under the table, rattling the dishes so hard I was surprised Gideon’s wine glass didn’t topple. I pressed my knee against his under the table to calm him.

“I look out for Gage because I care about him,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Things might have changed between us, but that never will.”

Dominic’s grin widened—all teeth, like a shark. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. But what’s your angle? What do you get out of always sticking your neck out for him? It can’t make your work life easy. Not unless your boss already knows where your loyalties lie. You were awfully quick to slap those cuffs on Ben, and no doubt you’d love to do the same to me. What will you do when it’s Gage’s turn, I wonder?”

It was bait, and I wasn’t biting. Not even when I wanted nothing more than to kick his chair over and plant a boot on his throat. “If you’ve got a problem with me, Dom, say it. But we both want the same thing: Gage safe and happy. Does he look happy right now?”

That landed; I saw it in his eyes when he glanced across the table. For a fleeting moment, I glimpsed the brother underneath the arrogance. The man who would do anything to protect his family.

I remembered the first time I’d met him. A teenager had been caught hot-wiring a motorcycle in the wrong part of town, and by the time deputies arrived, a biker gang had already beaten him bloody. That boy was a bruised, bleeding Dominic—a boy I later learned had no interest in motorcycles. Just over his shoulder, hidden by the crowd, his younger brothers were barely holding it together. Mason looked ready to puke. They were just kids, scared out of their minds, and Dominic had stepped up to take the blame despite having already turned eighteen.

I’d admired that loyalty once, but not anymore. Not when he was sitting here questioning mine.

Gideon’s low baritone broke the tension. “We’re not doing this tonight, Dom.”

Dominic relented with a small exhale, cracking his neck and reclining back in his chair. “Fine. I’ll play nice… for tonight.”

Gage’s leg finally stopped jiggling. I pressed my knee lightly against his, and the smile he shot me was filled with gratitude. It wasn’t often he let his guard down, but when he did, it felt like a victory.

I wanted to hold onto that smile, but the moment was cut short by the creak of the door. Gage’s head turned, and his grin froze. Then it vanished.

Mason stood at the threshold, face alight with rare energy. His blue eyes gleamed with an almost unholy light, and his cheeks were flushed, like he’d sprinted all the way here. Behind him, half in shadow, was a man I barely recognized. Taller and broader, yet diminished—pale, sunken, and drained. A husk of the boy I remembered, but still unmistakably Ben.

Just like that, nothing else mattered.