After dinner, Mom headed into town to help man the Chamber of Commerce’s hot cocoa booth at Novemberfest. According to Gage, big brother Grif’s latest bright idea—literally—consisted of a tree-lighting ceremony to kick off the holiday season.

With Mom gone and the boys huddled around the television arguing over a basketball game, Micki grabbed a jacket and slipped out to the porch, plopping into one of Mom’s Adirondacks.

Brotherly loudness took getting used to. Again.

According to Gage, the past two weeks had been filled with rain and cloudy skies, but beyond the trees, stars twinkled against a sheet of perfect black. Not one cloud.

Home.

To prove it, she puffed out a breath into the chilly air and watched the vapor disappear. Vegas got cold, but not like this. Not…peaceful.

Home.

“Micki!” Britt called from inside the house.

So much for peaceful. Definitely home now.

Already mourning her alone time, she pushed out of the chair, opened the storm door, and found her brother waving her inside. Could this be the dreaded family meeting she’d been anticipating? She slipped into the kitchen, her quickening pulse a giveaway that whatever this was, it wouldn’t be easy.

In the dining room, Britt took his spot at the end of the table, sliding into his role as family leader. At least among the siblings. Why her father holed himself up in that cabin, Micki didn’t know, but for years now, Britt had accepted the role of patriarch and no one seemed to mind.

“Huddle up. Since Mom is gone we can talk.”

Reid dropped into the chair to Britt’s right and met her gaze. Grif, wearing a crisp white dress shirt and gray slacks he’d managed to keep pristine throughout dinner, entered the room and commandeered the chair at the opposite end of the table. “What’s going on that Mom can’t hear?”

“And dragged me from my computer?”

Micki glanced at Jonah. Another thing that obviously hadn’t changed was Jonah’s habit of working late into the night and sleeping in when he could. As kids they’d joked that their brains didn’t reach optimum speed until midnight.

Behind her, Gage, clearly waiting to make sure everyone had a seat, propped a shoulder against the doorframe. After being assured Britt would pick her up at Brynne’s shop, Gage had gone home and then returned for dinner.

Not that she minded seeing him. Gage Barber was everything she’d never imagined finding attractive in a man. Wholesome, rugged, and outdoorsy. The blond hair and lean, rippling muscles didn’t hurt either, but she was a girl with a sordid past and guys like Gage? They wouldn’t understand. On the flip side, dating lowlifes who had no room to judge her wasn’t an ideal option. Which left her stuck.

And alone.

“Suds,” Reid said, pointing to the chair next to Micki, “have a seat.”

“I was saving it for Evie.”

“No Evie. She’s helping Brynne at the store.”

“Christ,” Grif said, “she’ll love being left out. But if it’s that busy in town, maybe this goofy Novemberfest idea is working.”

Reid sat back, his big shoulders smothering the chair. “According to Brynne, it’s working, but we got things to deal with here. I talked to Micki earlier and she needs our help.”

All eyes went to her and she froze. What? What could she possibly say right now? Gee, guys, my boss has been blackmailing me for years and to save Jonah’s reputation I broke about five million laws. And guess what? I'm actively trying to hack into his server and scrape up enough dirt to free us.

Beside her, Gage jerked his chin, urging her to speak up.

“I…um…”

“Spit it out, kid,” Reid said.

Gage eyeballed him. “Maybe you can give her a chance?”

Wow. Not even a sibling and he’d jumped to her defense.

He’d help her. He’d said it already. Only problem was, she’d gotten too used to being alone and not accepting help. All of this felt…off.

She looked at each of her brothers, pausing at Jonah, whose dark hair stuck straight up in the back. More than likely he’d been kicked back in his gaming chair, giving him a nice case of chairhead.

Annoyance at her brother aside, she had to tell them something. Even if it was only enough to get them off her case while she dealt with Phil.

“Okay,” she said. “I'll start with leaving Vegas. I didn’t tell anyone there my plans.”

Britt narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t want to be found. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Do what?” Grif shot back.

“The job. It’s…a lot.”

Jonah shrugged. “So stay here with us. Gage is bugging me about a cyber warfare class for the training center. I’d love to hand that off and you could do it in your sleep.”

“Hold on there, Baby Billionaire,” Reid said. “Twiggy isn’t done.”

At the time, she’d despised her childhood nickname. Now? Hearing it after all the years, it brought her a sense of stability, of belonging. A tight ball of emotion clogged her airway and she cleared her throat. Get through it. That’s all she had to do.

“Phil—”

“That asshole,” Britt said.

Well, yes. “He got arrested in Mexico.”

“Ha,” Grif said. “What he’d do?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. While he was in jail, I took off. This trip isn’t like the others. I knew when I left I didn’t want to go back.” She looked at Jonah again, stared into his eyes. The exact ones she saw in the mirror each day. “He won’t let me go.”

Jonah waved it off. “That’s crap. He can’t tell you where you can go.”

Yes. He can.

“It’s complicated and I can’t talk about it. It’s better for everyone if I don’t. My plan when I left Vegas was to stop and see you and then leave. I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

“Into what?” Grif again.

“All of it.”

“Mikayla,” Britt said in that fatherly tone that sometimes annoyed her other brothers. “I’m confused.”

She looked at Gage, still beside her, quiet and observant. She needed help and out of the group, oddly enough, he knew the most.

Taking her cue—or her silent pleading—he leaned forward. “Look, guys, I’m the outsider here.”

“You’re not an outsider,” Reid argued.

“Whatever. My point is, I’m not family, but we’re on a time crunch. At the B last night, I spotted a guy talking to Evie and then to Micki. I didn’t recognize him, but then Micki walked away and that was the end of it. This morning, I found Micki hauling ass down the driveway trying to leave.”

Reid muttered something at the same time Britt said, “I’m confused” and Jonah said something to Reid, apparently in response to whatever Reid had said and all of it melded together, squashing the quiet of the room.

“Shh,” Micki said. “If you’re all yammering, I can’t talk.”

“Fine,” all four of her brothers said at once.

Sigh.

“I was sneaking out because the guy in the bar works for Phil. He came here to find me. Phil expects me back in Vegas and I’m not going. I was leaving because I refuse to drag you all into my problems.”

“Why?” Britt asked. “Is Phil dangerous?”

Micki didn’t answer.

“Shit,” Jonah said. “We knew he was slime but dangerous? Seriously?”

Yes. Seriously. “I don’t know what he’ll do. Maybe nothing, but it’s me he wants. I thought if I wasn't here and y'all didn't know where I was, he’d have no use for you. That was my original plan. I'm working on something else now. Something that will, hopefully, convince him to let me go.”

“What does that mean?” Britt again.

Reid saved her from having to stretch the truth by popping out of his chair, the sudden movement stirring up the stillness. “This is bullshit. This guy can’t hurt us.”

If only that were true. “Tomas, the guy from the bar last night, is—or at least was—my friend. He said he wouldn’t tell Phil where I was if I went back with him today.” She looked at Jonah again, whose gaze had locked on to her. “I e-mailed him earlier and told him I’m not going back.”

“Then,” Reid said, “whatever this is, we’ll deal with it together.”

“But—”

Britt stood. “No buts. You’ve been running from us for ten years. If you want to stay, you’ll stay. Now tell us what this guy has on you.”

“I can’t.”

Grif ran a hand down the arm of his shirt, apparently smoothing away a wrinkle. “Here we go with the secrets again.”

What her brothers couldn’t grasp was that her secrets were meant to keep them safe. Giving them the full scope of her problem, the down-and-dirty truth, wouldn’t accomplish that.

“It’s better if you don’t know everything. As long as I don’t tell anyone, you will all be safe.”

Jumping in, Grif smacked his knuckles against the table. “Guys like Flynn are a dime a dozen in LA. I had a client last year who wanted to hire him. Wanted me to hire him.”

Oh, no. Please, God. As one of the premier sports agents in the country, Grif had many clients. She’d never heard his name thrown around the office, but that didn’t mean anything. Phil often hid things from her. Or maybe she hid them from herself. Denial had become her friend. Her very close friend.

She leaned forward so she could see him on the other side of Gage. “What client?”

“Basketball player. Total party animal. Got wasted in a club one night with a twenty-one-year-old. He followed her to the ladies’ room and had his security guy guard the door while he had sex with her. In the goddamn bathroom. When the girl sobered up, she claimed rape. My client came to me with it, wanted me to help him make it go away. I dropped him. I don’t need a guy like him. I heard he hired Phil Flynn. And it sure as shit went away.”

Sensing he had a question he wanted answered, Micki sat a little straighter. Wait for it…

But Grif simply stared at her, his jaw set. Questioning. Her own brother didn’t trust her.

“No,” she said, her voice only slightly pissy. “I wasn’t involved.”

“You’re sure?”

For the love of… “Yes. I’ve never even heard of it.”

“Are the cops after you?”

“No.”

“The feds?”

Dear God. “No! I swear to you. I have never, ever, done the ugly stuff. And, gee, Grif, thanks so much for the support!”

“Christ, Mikayla,” Britt said, scratching the back of his neck. “It all sounds ugly to me.”

Point there. “I only did the research.”

Jonah perked up. “Hacking?”

“Yes. And I never knew what exactly the cases were. He’d tell me he needed someone’s credit history and I’d get it. Did they have any DUIs? Any sort of criminal history. I’d get the specific information. That’s it. I swear to you.”

Micki stood, walked around the table to where Reid now leaned against the wall. She gripped Reid’s arm and faced all of her brothers and Gage. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but knowing the details of why I worked for Phil won’t help. Please, just trust me.”

A long few seconds passed with each of her brothers glancing around the table in silence. Men truly were apes the way they communicated.

As much as she wanted their acceptance, for them to believe in her, she knew they should toss her out. All these years she’d been gone and now she expected them to welcome her back? Not likely. Foolish girl.

“Fine,” Britt said. “But we need a plan.”

Reid, ever the tactician, held up a hand. “Where is Flynn now?”

“As far as I know, he's back in Vegas.”

“Not good enough,” Jonah said. “We need to know where he is. And this other guy, Tomas, he's probably still here.”

“Which means,” Grif said, “he's probably staying at one of the B and Bs in town. I'll call the owners and check that out.”

“Good,” Britt said. “And Micki doesn't go anywhere alone.”

Wait. What? “No way,” she said.

“Yes, way,” Reid shot back. “You don't know what this guy is capable of.”

Micki swung to Gage. The reasonable one. “Please, tell them I don't need to be in a prison.”

“Ditch the drama,” Reid said. “You are not a prisoner. If you were, I'd increase the security patrols on the property.”

Slowly, she lifted her hand. And flipped him off.

Mr. All-American cleared his throat. “Micki,” he said, “I'm sorry. I agree with your brothers on this. Until we know what Flynn is planning, I don't think it's safe.”

Her final hope had just blown apart. Poof. Gone. She shook her head as frustration tore her up. She'd left one situation where she'd had no control and wound up in yet another.

She scanned the table, taking in the Steele stubbornness on full display. Arguing with them wouldn't help. There were too many of them. She'd just go about her business of dealing with Phil. Once that was settled, she'd be free to go where she wanted, when she wanted.

“It's settled,” Britt said. “Mikayla, if things get dicey, you come to me. To any of us. Immediately.”

Having had more than his share of familial dynamics, Gage excused himself and headed down to the training center to close up. As much as Reid rammed it into his head that he wasn’t an outsider, Gage wasn’t a relative and leaving them be might be a wise choice. It seemed to him they all needed to get reacquainted because, as of ten minutes ago, Micki Steele was officially staying.

God help him and his horny self, because she’d looked pretty damned steamed when he'd gone against her. Which might explain her high-tailing it from the room after the meeting. God knew where she’d run off to. She'd have to deal with her anger. In this instance, the Steele boys were dead on. Even if it did create mind-melting tension.

Right now, Grif’s damned Novemberfest might provide the best distraction. Gage wasn’t much for festivals, but since he worked for a soon-to-be-opening business and didn’t have anything else to do on a Saturday night, he figured he’d swing by and avoid his growing attraction to Micki Steele. Damn, she had a spine. Her brothers weren’t exactly easy and she’d faced them all.

He followed the worn path back to the training center, his boots crunching over the loose gravel as Miss Joan’s porch light threw shadows from behind. A good thing, since the exterior lights on the training center hadn’t clicked on yet. He’d have to adjust the timer, make sure the spotlights went on earlier.

He breathed in the cool night air, appreciating that the miserable weather had given them a break with clear skies, plenty of stars, and enough warmth to keep the temperature at a comfortable level.

A light wind rustled tree branches and all of it, the crisp air, the sounds of nature, surrounded him, gave him a sense of calm and peace. Exactly what he’d come to Steele Ridge for.

Nights like this, he wouldn’t mind having someone by his side. Someone to hold and love and keep warm. But relationships required honesty and he couldn’t give that. Not yet. Honesty, in his current condition, meant weakness and he’d be damned if he’d willingly give that over. No way.

“Hi.”

Twenty feet from the building, he jerked to a stop, his hands immediately at the ready, his brain spurting adrenaline. He squinted into the darkness at the outline—a lean, leggy outline—of someone sitting on Miss Joan’s bench.

“Girl, you about gave me a stroke.”

“I’m sorry,” Micki said. “I thought you’d be up at the house with Reid.”

“I was. We’re done. I’m closing up and heading into town. Novemberfest.”

A shaft of moonlight drifted around the corner of the building and Micki tilted her head up, the long column of her neck exposed and vulnerable. That neck. He wanted his mouth on it.

“You’re going?” she asked.

“Since the center is about to open, I might as well put in an appearance.”

She gave up on the moon and looked at him, her leather jacket—and the body in it— backlit and…nope…not going there.

“It sounds nice. Small-town nice. Not like Vegas, you know?”

“I do know.” He stepped closer, lowered himself to the bench and his thigh brushed hers.

One of them should probably scoot over. Make room.

Except, no one did.

Ah, damn. Seconds ago, he’d lamented his lack of female company. Between him and Micki, they were a class A train wreck.

“Is it crazy that I’m sitting here in the dark?”

He shrugged. “Not to me.”

“I like this bench. It’s quiet and I get to think of my mom.”

“We all need quiet sometimes. One of the guys in our old unit was into meditation and all that Zen crap. He made all of us try it one night.”

“Oh, Lord. Reid meditating?”

Gage laughed. “Yeah. That alone was worth it. It wasn’t his thing, but I liked it. That chance to close my eyes. Settle my thoughts.”

He liked it enough that he still did it every day. Whether it was actually meditation, he wasn’t sure, but he’d take five or ten minutes and rest his brain.

A bird flapped overhead and he peered up. Micki did the same and there was all that soft creamy skin again, sparking an urge to drag his fingers down it.

He needed to get laid. Simple fact. The rotten part of it was he could make it happen. Cherlyn Marstin had been sending the signals for a month. Every time he saw her in town, she was all over him with the extended eye contact and brushing her hands over his arms.

She was pretty, for sure, but…

Hell, he didn’t know. A quick screw with Cherlyn, for whatever reason, wouldn’t cure what ailed him.

Not with the moon glistening off Micki’s face. In profile, her sculpted cheekbones and stylishly messy hair falling around her face made his body hum, and he wasn’t idiot enough to deny he liked it. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”

“It’s dark. Everyone is beautiful in the dark.”

“Not like you.” He bumped her leg with his. “And that’s just me being honest. I’m not hitting on you.”

Not much.

“Well, that’s a pity.”

At that, he smiled. She definitely had that Steele wit.

She gave up on the moon, met his gaze, and held it while the previously cool air became charged and downright warm.

“I don’t want to keep you,” she said. “Novemberfest is calling.”

The out. The escape hatch.

Smart man that his family professed him to be, he stood. “Yeah, I should probably head down there. They’re lighting the tree at nine o’clock.” He took two steps, then paused.

Don’t.

Being a smart man also meant not leaving desirable women sitting alone on benches. He turned back. “You wanna come?”