It looked as if Mikayla Steele worked for an absolute asshole.

The Internet didn’t have a whole lot on him, and in this day and age of rampant selfies and overexposure, that always made Gage suspicious. On any given day, he could Google someone and find a hefty list of accomplishments, photos, and mentions. Micki’s boss? No company website, no LinkedIn listing, no Facebook. Nada. For a man in his fifties, the guy was a total ghost.

Except for the photos. Two to be exact. One that took over an hour’s worth of digging to find because it was five years old and showed the man at a Vegas fundraiser. This guy looked all kinds of slick in his fancy suit, gelled hair, and sparkly white teeth. High end. Very high end.

The second photo, the one that really got Gage’s thoughts churning, was the one that showed Phil Flynn walking behind some knucklehead pop star leaving a Los Angeles courtroom. Flynn’s face was turned away, but it was him. No doubt. He’d been listed on the caption as an “associate” of the knucklehead. An associate?

“I don’t think so,” Gage said.

“Hi.”

He snapped his gaze to the doorway where—shit—Micki stood, one shoulder propped on the frame. Her dark hair fell around a face with just a dusting of makeup, but enough to emphasize her perfectly proportioned cheekbones. She used two fingers to brush her bangs from her eyes. Hard eyes. But, damn, the woman got his attention. Feminine, yet…edgy.

Realizing his screen still held a photo of her boss, he clicked out and cursed his inability, once again, to fight distraction.

“Hi,” he said.

She pointed at the computer. Had she seen what he’d been looking at? From that distance? No chance.

“Sorry to interrupt. I called out, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”

“No prob. The furnace is right below me. When it kicks on, it’s loud.”

And sometimes, his screwed-up brain didn’t hear the door chime.

Son of a bitch.

She looked around the office, took in the bookshelf in the corner where he’d stacked all his files so he could keep his desktop clear. After a minute, she moved on to the framed photos Gage had found on his wall one morning. All from his Special Forces days showing him in BDUs, holding some sort of badass weapon or hamming it up with his teammates. Not one of those photos belonged to him. That was all Reid, who thought Gage's Special Forces experience would add to the training center’s credibility. Whatever. To Gage it was just a bunch of pictures of a bunch of guys doing their jobs.

“Come in,” he said.

She pushed off the wall and walked straight to the pictures. “You look different.”

“I like to think I’m more civilized now.”

She landed on one photo of Gage and Reid standing next to a Jeep—in Colombia maybe—the two of them decked out in full combat gear. BDUs, body armor, helmets, rifles, the works.

“You were Special Forces with Reid?”

“I was.”

She lingered on the photo for a moment, then tapped it. “Can I get a copy of this? I never really got to see him this way. It’s so strange to me.”

“Now see, it’s strange for me to not see him that way.”

A small smile quirked the corners of her mouth. “Different worlds, I guess.”

“It’s Reid’s photo, but I can tell him you want it.”

“Well, I suppose I can ask him.”

She didn’t sound too enthusiastic about that. “Whatever you want, Micki.”

“Ha,” she said, meeting his gaze. “Don’t say that. Who knows what I might ask for?”

Obviously, Reid’s sister had inherited her brother’s knack for laying on the charm. At this point, the way her skintight jeans cupped her ass, he might give her just about whatever she wanted. Whatever she wanted.

Going there could damage his relationship with Reid. And Jonah. All the Steeles really, because as a whole, no one seemed to know what the hell to do with Micki. She was different. An outsider in her own family. Gage just didn’t know why.

Leaving the photos, she came closer to the desk. “Is Reid here?”

“No. He went to see Brynne.”

“She’s his girlfriend, right? Mom said something about her last month when I called.”

Last month? Gage talked to his parents almost daily.

“I’m thinking she’s more than a girlfriend, but yeah, that’s her. She tends to settle him down.”

“He needed to be settled down?”

Careful here, buddy. As much as the Steeles had welcomed him into their lives, he wasn’t blood, and offering his opinions on their familial issues probably wouldn’t win him any points.

He shrugged. “Or maybe he just wanted to see her.”

She smiled again, clearly realizing he would not take her bait. “Is my brother in love? Seriously?”

“Micki?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know what your situation with Reid is, but I’m not discussing his life with you. If there are things you want to know, ask him. You of all people should know he’ll tell you.”

“He doesn’t like me much.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

She propped one hip against the desk, twisted her lips this way and that, so Gage waited her out. Let her get comfortable with whatever direction she wanted to take the conversation.

“Did you notice he didn’t hug me when he saw me?”

Yeah. He’d noticed. Shitty, that, but Reid had reasons for the things he did. Right or wrong, it was his business.

“If it concerns you, ask him about it.”

“Where are you from?”

“Iowa.”

“Of course.”

“What does that mean?”

“You probably grew up on a farm. The apple-cheeked, Mr. All-American boy who has life all figured out. The war hero adored by all.”

What the—? Seriously, she, the mystery woman who’d taken off to work for a bastard, was coming into his office and making like she knew him?

He sat back, set his hands on the back of his head. “Sweetheart, you don’t know me. Whatever crap you have going on isn’t my fault. And I sure as hell won't let you turn your shit on me.”

She broke eye contact, looking down at the shiny surface of his desk. “I’m sorry. That was…horrible.” She met his gaze again, and in those few seconds some of the bitterness had stripped away. “I just got here and I’m already pissing people off.”

Whatever this girl had been doing in Vegas had wrecked her. Made her…angry. Resentful.

“Take it easy. This has to be difficult for you. And, to be fair, your family, too. You surprised them, that’s all. And me? I’m just a guy who works here. I don’t matter.”

“Everyone matters. And my family seems to love you, what with my mother stuffing you full of her fried chicken and fussing over you and Reid not kicking your ass when you told him to calm down.”

“Your mother is a good woman.”

“Yes. She is.”

“Reid? He’s just intense.”

“That’s for sure.” She waved a hand toward the doorway. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to him. Will you tell him I was here?”

“Sure. This may not be my place, but I care about your family and they care about you. If you need to talk, or whatever, I’m around. I’m a good listener. I spent half my military career as a sounding board for my detachment. Besides, I’m not a Steele. I’m neutral ground.”

She stayed quiet for a few seconds, then finally nodded. “Thanks. But I’ll be leaving soon.”

“You mentioned that. While you’re here, though.”

She headed for the door and Gage watched her trim little ass. And the legs? So long and fluid and…yep…something about the mysterious Micki Steele got him going.

“Micki,” he said, “when Reid gets back, you might want to tell him you’d like to hit Triple B with everyone tonight.”

Pausing, she swung back. “Triple B?”

“Blues, Brews, and Books. It’s the bar in town. Britt’s girlfriend—Randi—owns it.”

“I know what it is. Is everyone going there? Mom said something about a family dinner.”

“Yeah. After dinner. It’s Friday night. It’s a thing. Especially now that Evie is twenty-one. Everyone spends Friday nights there. Since you’re leaving so soon, it’ll give you time with your family.”

“Bars aren’t really my thing.”

“It’s more of a restaurant and bar. Not a pickup joint. But, hey, it’s up to you.”

If she wanted to get to know her family again, he was damned near handing it to her.

She gnawed on her lip again. “Are you going?”

Oh, what an opportunity this could be to strap on a cape. All because Micki Steele didn’t want to face her siblings alone.

Well, hell, why not?

“I’ve been known to stop in for a beer.”

Apparently Triple B was the place to be on a Friday night. Who'd have guessed this sleepy little town could, under Grif's slick, Los Angeles-loving tutelage, become a Friday night hot spot.

Over the years, the town hadn't changed much and still held that cozy, we're-all-neighbors feel. Since Micki had visited last, new iron light posts had been installed and the storefronts had definitely gotten facelifts. Amazing how fresh paint in neutral colors gave Steele Ridge an elegant Rockwell-esque feel. It all seemed, well, different. Not bad different, just not Mayberry.

After a death-defying ride into town with Evie, who had clearly inherited Reid’s driving habits—those being fast, fast, and faster—Micki might need a drink after all.

Being the golden child, Evie found street parking. Right in front of the bar. Someone pulled out as they cruised by and Evie jammed the car into reverse and nearly gave Micki whiplash while nabbing the spot.

One good thing about being in Vegas all these years was that Micki didn’t have to be Evie’s passenger.

“Everything okay?” Micki asked.

“Fine. Why?”

“You seem quiet.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds with Evie staring out the windshield. Finally, she leaned back, resting her head on the headrest. “You left me.”

“What?”

“First Dad, then you. What is it with our family?”

“I didn’t leave you, Evie. I left Steele Ridge.”

“But why? You had a family that loved you. Why would you abandon me—us?”

Micki reached for her, ready to lay a reassuring hand on Evie’s arm, but at the last second, unsure if her sister even wanted to be touched, pulled back. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I left for a good reason.”

“Can’t you tell me?”

“No. It’s…complicated.”

Evie studied her—no, dissected her. Whatever she uncovered made those intelligent blue eyes dim a little before she sent Micki a wan smile.

“If not me, find someone to confide in. Bottling that stuff up isn’t good for the soul.”

Huh. Her baby sister. All grown up. “When did you become so wise?”

“While fending off four brothers on my own, thank you very much. For that alone, I'm not letting you off the hook.”

Chuckling, they exited the car and headed toward the B. A tall man with reddish hair nodded at them as he passed and Micki did a double take. “Was that—?”

“Jeremy Johnson? Yep.”

“He tried to stick his hand down my pants in high school.”

“Well, not a lot has changed, then. He’s still handsy. He groped one of Randi’s waitresses two weeks ago and Britt about killed him.”

Good old Britt, still making sure everyone stayed on the straight and narrow. What must her brother think of her? If he knew everything, the way she spent her days trolling for dirt, he’d be disgusted. Ironic, really. She spent her life uncovering the secrets of others while she kept her own firmly buried.

A car honked and Micki looked up to see no less than a six-car traffic jam on Main Street.

“It’s busy tonight.”

“Grif implemented midnight madness on Fridays. He calls it booze and bucks. All the shops stay open late and offer deep discounts after nine o’clock. Patrons also get a discounted dinner at Triple B. “

They pushed through the B’s entrance and a burst of loud country music, music she’d stopped listening to the day she left North Carolina, hit her with the force of a hurricane. Worse, she was faced with a literal wall of people nudged into every available spot.

Crowds, she disliked.

Despised even.

“No,” she said. “I can’t do this.”

Evie turned back. “Why?”

“I’m not in there yet and my throat is closing.”

“Don’t stress. Randi reserves us a table in the back by the wall. There’s more room there. You just need to get through the crowd.”

Evie grabbed hold of her arm, pulling her forward, and Micki threw her weight back, refusing to budge.

“Ladies,” a man said from behind Micki, “how about we move out of the doorway?”

Micki turned and found Gage and his sparkling blue eyes smiling down at her and some of that clogged air squeaked free.

Cupping her hands around her mouth, Evie went up on tiptoes to reach Gage’s ear and speak above the melding voices and music. Whatever Evie said caused a sideways glance in Micki's direction.

Evie stood back and he waved her into the crowd. “You go. I got this. We’ll meet you at the table.”

With that, Evie was gone. That fast, plunging right into the crowd. Without a doubt, Evie was the daughter their mother always wanted. Girly, sweet, and fearless in one stunningly feminine package.

Determined to avoid the crush, Micki faced Gage, shaking her head to reinforce just how positive she was that she would not, in any way, enter the hell in front of her. “This isn’t my thing. I’ll go back to the house and catch up with everyone later.”

“Not happening.”

“Excuse me?” If being home meant getting pushed around, she hadn’t missed that particular aspect of family life.

“Look,” he said, “you told them you were coming. They’re all in there. I know that because Reid texted me twenty minutes ago telling me to get my ass moving. If you turn tail…”

Wow. What a thing to say to a woman who’d been on her own since eighteen. Well, sorta. She’d had Phil. And Tomas. Her quasi-family stand-ins.

Wacky as it was, at least with Phil, she knew she had a place.

Except she’d run from that place. That comfort zone that represented the devil she knew.

A man stumbled, his beer sloshing over the top of the mug as he bumped her. Gage body blocked him, forming a barrier between her and the drunk. “Dude,” he said, “really?”

“Sorry, man. I’m wasted.”

As if that were a good excuse.

The guy pushed into the crowd again and Gage shook his head, laughing at the idiot. Such amusement from a man whose entire presence screamed of honor and goodness knocked Micki back, forcing her to acknowledge that resisting him might be futile.

In all manner of ways.

Plus, why give her family another reason to be disappointed? She had to do this.

She straightened her shoulders and focused on a straight line through the crowd. “You’re right. I’ll just push through.”

Gage leaned in, his warm breath against her ear, sending an all-out alert to her barely-touched-by-a-man skin.

“I hate mob scenes like this, too. It makes my head spin. We’ll go around back. There’s an entrance Randi lets me use. She’s knows I’m a freak.”

At that, Micki laughed. “You’re not a freak.”

Far from it.

He swung the door open, stepped back, and made a show of waving her out.

“Thank you,” she said.

Their eyes connected for a long second and suddenly the loud room, the pressed-in bodies, disappeared. Her mind went quiet and the panic from moments ago faded. God, that felt good. Afraid to lose the moment and the utter calm where her mind didn’t race or question, she stood still, savoring the peace.

“You’re welcome,” Gage said. “Stop thinking so much.”

Good one.

Once outside, a gust of wind blew her hair across her face and she tipped her head back just as Gage lifted his hand. The cold air drove away the inferno from the crush of the crowd and she inhaled. Let all that fresh oxygen circulate inside her.

His fingers skimmed her cheek, then moved to tuck her hair back, sending a surge of straight lust roaring.

Loneliness. That’s all this was. A definite weakening of her system due to the years of isolation. She continued holding his gaze. “Too bad I can’t stay.”

He cocked his head and unleashed a smile. “Your plans could change.”

If only she had that choice. “Unfortunately, they can’t.”

With that, he dropped his hand and she instantly regretted the loss of contact. Something about him settled her, offered shelter from self-torture.

“That is too bad, then.”

He set his hand against the back of her jacket, leading her down the block, past the Mad Batter Bakery where the sign out front read “Trust. It's all around. If you allow it.”

How very prophetic, but, as Micki had learned, a total crock.

Gage led her around the building to the rear entrance. The temperature had dipped into the forties and now that the heat of lust had vanished, she shivered.

“You cold?”

“Freezing. I guess I’ve gone soft after living in a warm climate for so long.”

“Soft? I doubt it.”

He held the back door open and nodded. “Welcome to Friday night at Triple B.”

She eyed the door, pictured the crowd inside. All those voices and loud music. Total nightmare for a girl used to spending most of her adult life alone. And with Phil constantly checking on her, all of it combined to make her a seriously neurotic head case.

She looked back at Gage, so different from the men in her life. Mr. All-American. Squeaky-clean. That was him. She’d given up on fairy tales long ago, but he might be a real-life Prince Charming. Just not hers.

“We’ll do this together,” he said, “or we’ll never hear the end of it from Reid. I’m more afraid of that than the crowd.”

Captain America had a point there. On a quiet day, Reid was a pain in the ass. When he put a little effort into it? Forget it.

“Let’s do this, Mr. All-American.”

“All-American. Seriously?”

At that she laughed and feeling a little playful—Her? Playful?—she pinched his cheek, gathered her courage, and stepped into the nightmare of a crowd.

The closed in, air-sucking crush of people stopped her. So much for bravery.

“I’m on it.” Gage grabbed her hand and pulled her through the pressed-tight bodies. He pointed to the right with his free hand. “We’re going there.”

Not twenty feet away, her family had shoved four tables together in the corner. Gage led her to them, keeping their joined hands out of sight until they reached the table, then casually let go. Who could blame him? This guy was so far above her she’d need the world’s biggest ladder to touch his feet.

Jonah glanced up from whatever he was doing on his phone and met her gaze. Immediately, his face lit up. Her twin. Happy to see her.

He waved and that got Grif and Carlie Beth’s attention. Wow, she’d gotten prettier with age. They, too, smiled and Micki's nerves finally settled.

Britt, being Britt, stood. God forbid he should stay seated when a woman approached.

But this was…home.

All her brothers. Here. Right now.

Smacking Reid on the back of the head, Gage snagged the chair beside Britt. Jonah pointed to the spot next to him. Beside the one Gage had claimed.

Cozy. But, truly, in this group, she and Gage were the oddballs, so they could keep each other company.

“Hey, guys,” Evie said, pushing through the crowd.

“How did we beat you?”

“I stopped to talk to a couple of people. Britt, I think Deke just came in. Were you, um, expecting him?”

Deke? Another name Micki didn't recognize.

“He said he might stop in.”

Before Micki could move around the table, Reid grabbed her wrist. “Hey. I want you to meet Brynne.”

The girlfriend. Next to him, a curvy brunette stood, set her hand on his shoulder, and scooted behind him.

And oh, she could see why her brother fell for this one. Even if she wasn’t his normal tall, skinny supermodel type, she looked young, maybe mid-twenties, with a stunning face and killer brown eyes. Looking into this girl’s eyes brought Micki’s shoulders down that last notch.

A few inches shorter, Brynne angled her head. “It’s great to finally meet you. Reid talks about you a lot.”

“Is it nice?”

She laughed, but before Micki could say she hadn’t been joking, Brynne forged ahead, moving into her space so she could speak into her ear. Micki forced herself to be still. To not offend her prickly brother's girlfriend by backing away.

“It’s very nice,” Brynne said. “He’d never admit it, but he misses you. So I’m glad you’re here and that I got to meet you.”

Bam. Micki liked her. Immediately. “I can see why my brother wants to spend time with you. Thank you for telling me that.”

The girl shrugged. “Sure. Just figured you’d want to know. He’s a handful sometimes. Believe me, I get that. I think it’s because he loves hard.”

“You two about done whispering?”

“I’ll give you whispering.” Brynne bent low, said something in Reid’s ear that brought a grin to her brother’s face.

“I do love you, Brynnie,” he said, pulling her onto his lap.

Yep. There was her answer. Reid was in love. Good for him.

“Micki,” Jonah called, “come and sit.”

She moved around the table and Gage scooted his chair in, giving her space to squeeze between him and the wall. There wasn't a whole lot of room and, skinny as she was, she brushed his back as she went by. “Sorry,” she said, patting one rock-hard shoulder.

“Not a problem.”

If only that were true.

The music died down and Reid smacked a hand on the table. “Everybody, listen up. Since we’re all here, I got something to say.”

Still on his lap, Brynne elbowed him.

“Sorry. We have something to say.”

“Better.”

“See,” he said, “I listen.” The two of them shared a laugh, then Reid brought his attention back to the table. “We were going to wait until Christmas on this, but since Micki is here and we’re all together, we thought…” He looked up at Brynne again, and the connection was so intense and pure and full of love that something inside Micki came apart, an absolute rupture that reminded her she'd never looked at someone that way.

No one had ever looked at her that way either.

Not a lot to ask. Or was it? For her? Probably. Her secrets created distance. Distance severed connections and there wasn’t much she could do about that. Except hook up with someone in her line of work, and really, what kind of life would that make?

“Come on already,” Britt said. “I’m turning gray here.”

Reid held up a hand. “It’s been a little while for Brynne and I now. And, well, she’s apparently crazy enough to want to marry me. So, we’re doing it. Getting hitched.”