22. Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Abby
“I’m staying here?” I repeated back to Gage. Did he mean here, as in his apartment? Or did he think I was going to sleep in a parking garage?
I would take the creepy woods over the humiliation of being discovered by some rich guy as he walked out to his Lamborghini before work.
“Do you want anything out of your car?”
I still wasn’t comprehending. What time was it, anyway? “Why do I need things out of my car?”
Gage inhaled for patience. “Because you’re staying here.”
“Why?” I asked again.
“We don’t know what’s going on, or how many parties are involved in Cargill’s bullshit. You’ve already been approached by Dallas once. It’s not safe for you to be on your own right now.”
Crying felt like the inevitable option the longer we stood there, the reality of his words sinking in. I was in danger. Men like Cargill and Dallas—or worse—were after me ?
Breathing was a struggle, like there wasn’t enough air in the space between us. That weird little bell was going off inside me, and I felt dizzy. My limbs tingled and numb as I sucked in frantic breaths.
“I think I’m having a panic attack—or maybe a heart attack. Something is wrong with me.”
I was cold and shaking, and I couldn’t think straight through the panic.
Then warmth enveloped me. A heady scent like mint and wild things filled my nostrils, and that quickly my breathing slowed. The feel of Gage’s arms around me was like a safety blanket, weighing down on the panic, sinking it until it was deep below the surface.
But the pinging feeling in my chest kept going, and I couldn’t convince myself it wasn’t a heart attack.
“Nothing is wrong with you,” Gage whispered against my forehead.
The way he held me was intimate, his palm cupping the back of my head, chest pressed to my cheek. I needed him to stop doing this. I was touch-starved and lonely, and every time I found myself in one of these too-familiar entanglements with him, I became closer to letting myself get carried away.
Closer to believing this meant something when it didn’t.
“Something is wrong with me,” I insisted.
“This is a very normal reaction. What happened up there was a shit show.” He grew quiet, long minutes stretching between us as he continued to hold me. “I shouldn’t have brought you with me. That was stupid.”
I pushed away, pressing my back into the wall. “Yeah, it was stupid. What was the plan, Gage?” I was freaking out and yelling felt better than sobbing. “You could have been shot!”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
I balled my fist up, swinging it at his chest. I stopped myself before it made impact. I wasn’t going to let his unchecked temper become contagious. “This isn’t a joke to me! I’m not a soldier! I’m just—”
I exhaled shakily, the panic resurfacing to clog my throat. “I’m just an idiot way in over my head.”
Gage rubbed his jaw. His gaze travelled over my face, and he seemed genuinely distressed. But he was so hard to read, and I didn’t know if he was distressed because I was on the cusp of an emotional breakdown or because his new assistant was malfunctioning, and he couldn’t just reboot me.
“You’re right. None of this went according to plan. I should have come up with a strategy before we went in guns blazing—” He flinched, realizing his poor choice of words too late. “Listen, you’re safe now. I promise, you’re safe. Levi and the guys will handle Cargill. I won’t let him hurt you.”
There was an uncharacteristic desperation to his words. He seemed to be panicking too but not about the right things.
“Why are you not freaking out?” I asked.
“Gunfights were a standard part of my job for years.”
“No, I mean about…about all of it. Dallas, Cargill knowing about your secret mission. About Levi taking your drive.” Just hours ago, he’d been ravenous for answers. I handed his best source of answers over to his brother and he wasn’t even scowling at me. He almost seemed giddy.
Gage shrugged, his lips curling. “Dallas is alive. Cargill is the source of information I’ve been looking for. I’ve got everything I need now.”
He was suddenly much closer to me, his arm stretching over my head as he propped his hand on the wall. The blue of his eyes was icy, yet there was an unfamiliar warmth as they crinkled at the corners.
Ping .
I swallowed, my palm pressed to my chest in surprise.
“It’s been a long night. I think you’ll feel better when you get some sleep.”
“I can’t stay here. You only have one bedroom,” I reminded him. Sleeping in my own trunk was one thing. Sleeping on his couch would make me feel like a bum.
His lip twitched. “That’s not a problem. I promised you a bed at the cabin and you didn’t get one. You can sleep in my bed.”
“I can’t sleep in your bed.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
“What’s wrong with it? It’s a king. Much bigger than your car, and more comfortable too.” The warmth left his eyes, and he frowned. “I can get a different one, but no one is going to deliver a mattress in the middle of the night.”
“I—that’s not—why would you—no!” I sputtered. “The problem isn’t the mattress.”
“Then what’s the problem?” He was so earnest, his dark brows almost obscuring his eyes.
How did I explain to him that I couldn’t sleep in that bed because it was his bed? Because the smell of him would be infused into it, and I was already trying to hold my breath as he leaned over me? Because his touch did things to me and if I let myself lie in his bed, thinking about all the parts of him those sheets had caressed, I might lose my last scrap of sanity?
Because I couldn’t get my ex-husband to take the freaking trash out for me, but Gage used his body to shield me from a gun and even if that was business as usual for him, to me it was literally the most insane and romantic experience of my life, and I was desperately trying not to fall for him as this bizarre damsel-in-distress complex took over my brain?
“You won’t have anywhere to sleep.”
His shoulders relaxed. “I’ll take the couch.”
The couch in his living room was identical to the ones at the cabin. Buttery soft black leather, wide cushions, plenty of space to sprawl out. I knew because I’d slept on one.
But Gage was a full foot taller than me.
“But you won’t—”
He pressed a finger over my lips, cutting my sentence off. “Don’t argue with me, Abigail. Are you going to get in bed, or do I need to pick you up and carry you in there?”
Yes, please carry me in there. Please throw me on that bed and show me every ounce of wildness that you hold at bay.
The bell in my chest went crazy. Tomorrow I was going to see a doctor.
I swallowed, resisting the urge to bite the finger at my lips.
“Fine,” I clipped, ducking from under his arm and hurrying into the living room before I lost the battle with my failing impulse control.
“I’ll be back in five minutes. Don’t open the door for anyone, not even Levi.”
I didn’t answer. I was hiding around the corner, pressing into the cool wall, and waiting for him to be gone. The door clicked shut, and I heard the dead bolt slide into place as he inserted his key.
What the actual heck had I gotten myself into?
A smarter person would demand her keys, jump in the car, and drive back to the Twin Cities. Or maybe to Vermont. As far as I could get from the chaos that Silver Bullet—that Gage —had brought into my life.
I settled on the corner of the couch with a defiant huff, curling in on myself to ward off the chill. Shifters ran hot, which meant even in November they had the air conditioner running. I needed to invest in some wool stockings.
Odd, that would only matter if I chose to stay.
I already had. The idea of leaving was unappealing to me.
Tonight was terrifying, and it was also a rush. I didn’t want to repeat the gun experience, but the rest was…what I needed. The excitement my life had been missing for years.
I wasn’t happy in my marriage, in that ugly house that I only bought because David liked, or in my old job.
I was bored and unsatisfied.
I believed that was just the way life went. After a certain age, it didn’t get any better than that. You slogged along, constantly fighting for—and in—your relationship, struggled to raise a few kids, and that was it. Then it was over.
I still longed for a family. A partner that gave as much as I did. A house brimming with joy.
Except, when I envisioned it now, it wasn’t quiet. It was unruly and full.
Maybe I was unruly under all the layers of pain and people pleasing.
Huh.
Gage’s crazy was contagious.
I laughed softly, leaning my head on my fist. I was losing it.
My eyes fluttered closed.
Or maybe I wasn’t losing anything. I was gaining something I didn’t know I could have.
I jolted forward, throwing my hand out expecting to meet air and finding soft bedding instead. My vision tilted, body disoriented as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. The room was darker than I remembered, nothing but the faintest glitter of black water out the window reminding me where I was.
Gage’s apartment.
But not Gage’s couch. I was lying in the middle of his bed, sheets carefully tucked around me. I remembered with absolute certainty that I was on the couch when I fell asleep, stubbornly refusing the enticing offer of a bed.
Which meant…
Gage put me in his bed.
He had a serious problem with staying out of my personal bubble, but even for him, this was extreme.
I wanted to feel violated. Irate at his audacity.
Instead, my stupid tachycardia was bumping around, making me feel like I swallowed Tinker Bell.
I sat up, breathing between my lips, and heaved myself out of bed. I’d never been more exhausted in my life, my eyes only half open as I fumbled around the dark. My fingers found my phone on the nightstand, and I lifted it, squinting at the bright screen.
Four in the morning. It hadn’t even been an hour.
Why was I awake?
Because it was so freaking hot in here. I felt feverish, my skin slick and burning even as goosebumps prickled down my arms. The jeans I fell asleep in were restrictive, digging into my stomach and bunching at my thighs. I ripped them off my legs, tossing them haphazardly onto the floor and sliding back under the sheets.
Sheets that were soft as silk on my bare legs.
Hell, they probably were silk. Gage didn’t seem to care about luxury one way or the other, but his brother certainly did. I would bet my entire paycheck that Levi was responsible for the interior of this place, just the same as the cabin.
Gage struck me as the type of man that would be sleeping on a mattress on the floor, no top sheet or anything. Not because he was lazy, but because he had better things to do than fuss over blankets.
Then again, this place was so clean the light glinted off the polished floors, and I knew he wasn’t letting a maid in here.
It was bad enough getting him to take a walk while the cleaning staff took care of the office twice a week.
I laid there staring up at the ceiling, pondering the paradox that was Gage. Was he always like this, or was there really a softer, happier version of him that I would never get to meet?
Why did I care so much?
Why did I allow myself to get dragged into this?
Why didn’t I argue when he told me I was staying?
Why didn’t I storm into the living room and give him a piece of my mind when I woke up in his bed?
Ping. Yeah, whatever that meant.
I rolled onto my side, tucking my arm under the pillow. Then I rolled again, shifting my legs over and over without finding a comfortable position.
I felt off. Aching in strange places.
I took a deep breath and got a lungful of Gage.
My body tingled. Throwing the covers off did nothing for the feverish cloud hanging over me, even with the air conditioning set to shifter level cold.
I was attracted to Gage. Objectively, he was hot. Really, really hot.
But this was the first time I’d ever had a physical reaction to attraction. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think straight as need created a slow beat between my legs. My hand kept finding its way to my stomach, gliding lower in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the pressure.
That would be wrong. So wrong.
I was in my boss’s bed while he was only one room away. And he was a shifter. There was no way he wouldn’t know what I was doing and then this situation would get ten times more awkward.
It was already weird enough being here.
Now I was doomed to roll around in his sheets, bathing in the delicious smell of him and pretending I wasn’t obsessed with him, that I didn’t want to throw my professionalism out the window and grind myself into his lap.
I was clinging to a modicum of self-control by reminding myself that whatever these insane feelings were, Gage did not reciprocate them.
Except I couldn’t stop replaying that night at the cabin and questioning if it was real.
“Tell me you feel it too.”
He was always in my space—always touching me. Like he couldn’t help himself. Like maybe he felt this same delirious need to be close to me too.
And even if that was true? He didn’t trust me. He didn’t even like me. Plus, we worked together.
There. The trifecta of off limits.
I would control myself. I had to. I was still only halfway to establishing my self-reliance. This was a small obstacle, a temporary roadblock. I couldn’t let it get to my head.
Or any other part of my body.
My eyes were finally drifting shut when I felt pressure on the foot of the bed. I stiffened, suddenly realizing my feet were out from under the blanket and getting this irrational fear that something would grab them.
I slowly rolled onto my back, ready to yank the blanket back over me but froze halfway there. Two electric blue eyes were glaring down at me, not from Gage’s familiar face, but from the head of a wolf.
I’d seen his wolf at Deer Base when he unexpectedly showed up at my campsite. At the time I was in a panic, focused entirely on my own survival. This time I was expecting him—wait, what?
But I was . This whole time I was hot and edgy and just waiting . Not to fall asleep, not for the feverish wave to pass, but for him to soothe it.
This wasn’t what my body had in mind, the disappointed little heart anomaly in my chest told me, but it would do.
Maybe sleep deprivation was sending me into a state of psychosis and making me hallucinate.
The weight of him felt so real as he pulled himself fully onto the bed. A paw the size of my hand landed on either side of my head.
He was huge, bigger than the biggest dog I’d seen. His head alone could crush me. That massive jaw could break me in half. I knew shifters needed to let their animals have freedom often, but I didn’t know Gage was in the habit of shifting in his living room.
Maybe his wolf smelled me in the other room and wanted to let me know he was mad about me stealing his spot. This was his bed too.
He didn’t seem angry as he lowered his snout to my face, sniffing delicately along the edge of my jaw. I held perfectly still as he did his exploring, rubbing up and down the side of my neck.
Being this close to a wolf should have been terrifying. But now that I knew him, I didn’t see him as a wolf. This was just a variation of Gage. There was grumpy Gage, unexpectedly nice Gage, get-up-in-your-personal-space Gage, and Wolf Gage.
Wolf Gage was just…fluffier.
I lifted a hand to run my fingers through his coat of marbled brown and black fur. If he didn’t want to be pet, he shouldn’t be climbing into bed with me.
Really, it was one thing to make me sit next to him while we worked but it was another thing entirely to sleep next to each other. Even if he was shifted.
With a chuffing sigh Gage settled on the sheets, dropping his big head over my chest. He was heavy but somehow the weight was soothing. The heat wave that was burning me from the inside out receded and I was suddenly so, so sleepy.
This didn’t feel like enemies.
This felt like—like a direction I really, really shouldn’t have let myself go.
I shouldn’t be here.
I shouldn’t have gone to the cabin. Shouldn’t have gone with him to confront Cargill.
Really, I shouldn’t have given in to any of his demands. Was it really necessary to spend every hour of the workday by his side?
I dismissed it all with a yawn. If I was doomed to another broken heart, I would handle it better with a good night’s sleep.