The next morning, I cursed every bump on the way to the job site. How could I not when I was pretty sure I’d jacked off more in the hours after I left The Baker’s Cottage than I ever had before. Even horny teenager me hadn’t gone at it enough to be chafed. Adult me had…all because of nachos and peaches.

Well, really because of soft, pink lips opening so sweetly for me as I placed food between them. I still don’t know what I’d been thinking when I’d fed Katie, but thank fuck I had. That picture—those lips parting and taking what I had to give—would be spank bank material for the rest of my life. And when she’d thrown out the comment about eating her peaches? I’d had to leave the room before I pinned her against the counter and got a real good taste of her. One I’d make sure she didn't soon forget.

I cringed as the ATV hit a patch of rock that caused twinges to shoot up my poor, aching dick. I’d truly screwed myself the night before. I’d let myself lose control enough to believe the woman could be mine. No way would I stop now until I had that woman in my bed, which meant I had to up my game and put in some work.

Once I’d arrived on site and parked the ATV, I adjusted myself subtly as I swung my leg off the ATV. I didn’t need to be there—wasn’t scheduled and didn’t have an emergency—but Hunter had needed to take the day off. When I’d taken the call, I’d figured I could pop over and make sure the machinery ran well for the morning shift. Besides, Katie would know something was up if I came by the restaurant so early. I could get some work done before I went bulldogging after her.

The second I took in the logging team, every thought of Katie and those soft, pink lips disappeared. Even my aching dick no longer starred in the front of my mind. With just one glance at Camden, I moved straight into damage control mode and thanked every deity there was that I’d showed up.

Rough no longer described the way he looked. Haggard, sickly, waxy—all better descriptors. His team seemed to be noticing too. They kept shooting worried glances at each other, and one guy seemed to be sticking awfully close to their site manager. I had a feeling if Camden gave them a direction, there’d be a lot of silent conversation before the team decided if it was a good idea or not. And that was a dangerous thing when cutting down trees.

I didn’t think twice before grabbing my phone and calling in. Not to Bishop—he handled sales, though he could deal with other issues. No, this one needed to go right to the top. To the big boss running the company. I called Alder Kennard.

He answered on the second ring. “What’s up?”

“We’ve got a problem. It’s Camden.”

Alder paused, the silence obvious, before carefully asking, “What’s the situation?”

I watched Camden interact with Vol, an old-timer who’d been logging these woods since before I’d been born. The old man seemed to be running interference, keeping Camden occupied while the team, led by Vol’s son, shifted positions. It looked to me as if Camden had been headed for the skidder.

All the felled timber had to be pulled out of the forest to the landing site for loading onto the trucks that would take it to the mill. That was the job of the skidder—a giant piece of machinery with a boom and grapple bucket to grab, lift, and pull the logs off the site. The beast scarred the earth beneath it and could take out the whole team if the operator didn’t pay attention to what they were doing. Vol always paid attention, but I doubted Camden could focus on his own hand if he had to right then.

And Camden? He looked like my dad. Not literally—the two were physically as opposite as possible—but similar in how they acted. My dad had been an alcoholic, a functioning one, but an addict nonetheless. I knew the look of someone who was still burning off the night before. My dad had worn it often, and there was Camden doing the same. It was a “been drinking all night but trying to appear sober” sort of look. One that should be nowhere near a logging operation.

There was no sugarcoating that shit. “Camden’s been drinking.”

“How bad?” Alder’s voice no longer seemed cautious. He sounded pissed as hell.

“I’m having to guess here, but bad enough that I’m about to siphon the diesel out of the skidder to keep him from running it.”

“Don’t let him touch a goddamned thing. I’m on my way.”

Right. Don’t let the site manager touch the equipment. No problem there.

“Yo, Rusty,” I hollered once I’d pocketed my phone. The man in question looked up then hurried over at my wave. He fit his nickname—Rusty had a shock of dark red hair on the top of his head and covering half his face and a smattering of freckles across his pale skin. The kid was our newest employee—a silviculturist working with the crew to make sure we left the forest healthier than when we started. He knew the business well, was quick and smart in an unsafe environment, and he had the reputation of being observant. Real fucking observant.

Tall and thick with muscle, he powered up the rocky rise in no time. “What’s up, Gage?”

“You notice any issues on site this morning?”

A single jaw clench gave him away. “Nothing that hasn’t already been brought up and squashed.”

So the team was sticking behind their leader. I liked loyalty, but I didn’t like stupidity. “Cam been using the machinery?”

“No. Old Vol’s been making sure of it.”

Just like I’d thought. Vol knew this job better than anyone in the company, including Alder himself. He’d been friends with the late Kennard patriarch back in the day. His been-there-done-that attitude tended to settle the young hotheads we hired, and he took good care of his team, especially when his son worked with him. He should have been retired by now, but at that moment, I was real fucking thankful he hadn’t.

Rusty wasn’t who I needed to talk to. “Okay. Get back to work and send Vol over.”

The two switched spots, Rusty keeping close to Camden as the old man left his side. Real observant, that one. He’d be a good man to put on rotation for guarding Main Street.

“What can I do for you, Gage?” Vol asked when he stood on the hunk of rock at my side.

I’d needed to go easy on Rusty. Vol required no such thing. “You letting Cam lead this site like he is?”

“I’ve got him covered.”

“You shouldn’t need to cover your site manager.”

“Yeah, well, he shouldn’t have lost his wife either.”

True fact, and yet… “You going to cover for him when he kills another teammate because he’s too drunk to react?”

A flash of something close to worry flashed across his face, but it disappeared just as quickly. “We take care of our own in Justice, and Cam needs a little extra help right now.”

I could respect that opinion. I didn’t like it because I could already see how badly this day could go if they lost control for just a moment, but I could respect it. Loyalty above all else—if I hadn’t have known better, I’d have guessed Vol had been a SEAL.

“Okay. Keep doing what you’re doing. I’m here if you need backup, and Alder’s on his way.”

Vol nodded, looking relieved as he headed back to work. Logging was dangerous work on a good day—between the machinery, the locations, and the simple physics of felling 200-foot-tall trees, accidents were inevitable. No one wanted a team member to go down on their shift, though. Not even someone trying to show an old friend some compassion.

I hung back from the team, watching over them as they worked on the felled timber. Had they been dropping trees, I’d have put a stop to the whole operation. Cutting off the limbs and readying the timber to be yarded to the landing site was a lot less dangerous. Still, I stuck around, keeping an eye on Camden as he sort of did his job. He knew I was there, had caught my gaze once or twice, but he made no move to acknowledge me. Fucker had to know he was busted.

Alder arrived a good half hour after I’d called, pulling up on an ATV like the rest of the guys did. “No accidents?”

“None yet.”

“Fucking drunk at work. What is he thinking?”

“He’s not.” I shrugged when Alder looked my way. “He’s grieving. Thinking isn’t his highest priority. Trying to figure out if he wants to live through the pain or not is.”

“Yeah, well…a drunk on a job site could lead to a lot more people grieving. I can’t have it.”

No, he couldn’t.

Alder stormed off toward Camden, pulling him aside and indicating Vol should take over for a few. I moved close enough to listen, to back Alder up if he needed it, but not so close as to interfere. Dealing with disciplinary actions against employees of Kennard Mills wasn’t part of my job. Making sure Alder made it back down off the mountain was.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Camden yelled, obviously having lost his temper. Alder must have told him he knew he’d been drinking. I couldn’t hear both sides of the conversation—Alder kept his voice low and controlled—but Camden was loud enough for the both of them.

“Yeah, I had a few drinks last night. So what?”

“I’m controlled. I can do my goddamned job just fine.”

“Right. You’re so worried about everyone. You weren’t too worried about Leah, were you?”

That one…I knew it hit Alder hard. As the oldest Kennard brother, he was tasked with taking care of the town. We didn’t have police or fire departments this far out into the hills. With fewer than 350 residents, the city of Justice couldn’t afford them anyway, so the Kennard family handled those jobs themselves.

When Camden’s wife, Leah, had died in that fire set by the Soul Suckers, it’d broken something inside of Camden. It’d broken something inside of Alder as well. And Camden had just ground all those broken pieces with his boot, purposely causing pain.

Alder stayed solid, though. Quiet. Looking like a leader. Camden wasn’t wanting to be led.

“Fuck you and your whole family. You didn’t do shit for me. You didn’t keep Leah safe. You fucking failed, and I lost the one woman I’ll ever give a fuck about because of it.”

Alder reached for Cam, but the younger man shoved him back. That was quite literally my cue to step in.

“Keep your hands off him,” I said, making sure I had Cam’s attention. “Say what you need to, but don’t get physical.”

Camden’s bloodshot eyes met mine, his anger palpable. “Fuck you, Shepherd.”

“That’s enough,” Alder said, but Cam wasn’t listening. In fact, he pulled off his fluorescent safety vest instead.

“You know what?” Camden asked just before he tossed the vest at Alder. “I’m done here. Fuck this job and your mill. Fuck this whole town. I quit, and I’m leaving Justice. Good luck against the Soul Suckers. Hope they don’t murder your woman like they did mine. Oh, right—you’ll actually do something to stop them from getting to Shye. Leah wasn’t important enough to you.”

Alder’s face fell, the pain those words caused obvious. Camden may have been grieving, but he was also an asshole for that one. Before I could do much more than get pissed, though, Camden stormed off up the hill. Heading for the vehicles that would take him back to his truck.

“Camden,” Alder yelled. “Go sleep it off at Deacon’s motel before you lock that decision down. You’ll always be family to us.”

Camden didn’t respond. I couldn’t let him leave drunk, though.

“Rusty,” I hollered, moving away from Alder and waiting until the redhead stood close enough to give him directions. “Go with him. Make sure he doesn’t kill anyone else, even if that means following his truck all the way to the county line.”

“And if he’s out of control?”

Fuck. Alder would never approve what I was about to say, but no way could I let Camden kill someone else because he’d drunk too much. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have let him leave the site at all. “You ever drive the bumper cars at the state fair?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Knock him off the road. Carefully.”

Rusty didn’t even flinch. Instead, his face grew serious, his eyes locking in on Camden’s retreating figure. “On it.”

The man ran up the hill, chasing after his former site manager. Former, for sure, because there was no way Camden came back after that fight. As much as we’d hoped to get ahead of it, Camden was in free fall. He hadn’t hit bottom yet. Hell, he couldn’t even see the bottom yet. And maybe he never would—maybe he’d keep falling until he gave up and accepted the bottom didn’t exist for him. That’s what had happened with my dad—the man never even attempted to clean himself up. He’d died just as much of a drunken mess as he’d lived. Camden deserved better, but he’d have to be willing to put the work in to get it.

I didn’t have a lot of words for Alder when he came back my way, but there was one question I knew needed asking. “You okay?”

“I’ve known him since he was in diapers. Knew his parents. I can’t believe it’s come down to this.” Alder took his moment, giving himself a few seconds to absorb the loss. Then the man did exactly what I knew he would—he yelled for Vol, getting right back down to business. And like the good man he was, Alder shook Vol’s hand when the older man approached and gave him the respect he deserved. “I know you’re not looking for the promotion, but I need you to be site lead for now.”

Vol nodded once, likely expecting the job after Camden’s fallout. “No problem, but I’d prefer it to be temporary.”

“Understood. I’ll start looking for others to take the spot right away. If you know of anyone you think might be ready, let me know.”

“I’ll make a list, though I’ll tell you now, my son will be on it. That’s not bias—I think he’s ready for the role.” Vol nodded to where Rusty had just disappeared into the forest. “He okay?”

Camden. Alder frowned deep at that question. “Says he’s leaving Justice.”

Vol sighed, the weight of those words dragging him down and making him look his age. “Not the best plan, but maybe getting away from the memories will give him some peace.”

“Maybe. Why don’t you let the guys break for twenty before we reset today’s job? I think that’ll help them get their heads on straight.”

“This crew?” Vol grinned. “Ain’t nothing going to straighten them out.”

“Your son’s on this crew.”

“And he’s the worst of the lot.” Vol laughed and walked back toward the team of men waiting for him.

Alder groaned and cracked his neck, the smile he’d given the older logger falling fast. Businessman gone, soldier replacing him. “Gage?”

I knew the question coming before he asked it. “As of this morning, Pistol’s still in Boulder.”

Alder nodded, looking off into the woods. His entire body stiff and unrelenting. Pistol—his woman’s stepbrother. The man who’d beaten her, who’d started the attacks on our town because of her, who had threatened to steal her away to his club so the men there could take things from her she wasn’t willing to give. The man who had a real fucking short life expectancy for all those things. I’d been looking into him for weeks, tracking him. Making sure I knew everything about him from his job to his home life to where he bought his beer. Alder wanted to know it all, the Green Beret in him needing the information to devise a plan to take the guy out quietly. I’d have planted some C-4 and blown the shit out of the guy’s house with him in it, but Alder wasn’t that dramatic. He also had a girl at home who needed him to protect her—he couldn’t do that from prison, so any plan we enacted had to be quiet, clean, and untraceable.

Alder had the patience of a saint, but even he had his limits. “I need to take him out.”

No argument from me. “You ready to make that call yet?”

“No.” He spat the word out, his frustration clear. “I’ve got two pieces to the puzzle left to place and a sheriff to keep out of the way.”

I’d already handed over everything I’d learned about the guy—his habits, his schedules, who he dealt with, who he trusted. Whatever information Alder was waiting on had to be harder to get than that. The sheriff…that was a whole other story.

Alder sighed and rolled his shoulders, seeming to refocus on the here and now instead of what we all knew was coming. “You busy tonight?”

“Nope.”

“Good. I need you to guard Main Street after hours.”

He meant Katie’s place—the only business open past six. That wouldn’t be a hardship at all.

“Done.”

“It’s gumbo night.”

Her late night. “No problem. I’ll stay close to Katie.”

“Good.” He nodded, sliding a look my way that seemed almost devious. “You know she’s the niece of the sheriff, right?”

Sheriff Baker—and yeah, I knew. “Bishop mentioned that once. Something I should know?”

“He’s crooked as fuck, but he’s blood to that girl. You make sure not to give him a reason to come digging around in town. I’ve seen more of him in the past few weeks than ever before. He’s a shark in the water—don’t go throwing out chum.”

In other words, don’t fuck with Katie and leave her hurt. He had no worries there—if I ever got the girl in my bed, I had a feeling I’d never let her out.

“Won’t be a problem.”

Alder just nodded. “Good. Be safe out there. I’ll be home but will keep my phone on me, so reach out if you need anything.”

“Got it, boss.” I couldn’t let him walk away without saying one more thing. Because a real man admitted when he was wrong. “And hey, Alder.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry for all the shit I gave you these past three years. About Shye.”

Alder held my gaze, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Every day now—every single one—is worth those three years, in case you were wondering.”

I wasn’t—I could tell that by the way he bounded into work every morning and how he rushed home every evening. Shye living with him had brought a joy to his life none of us could have expected, but we were all grateful for it. He deserved that happiness. Me? I might not deserve it, but I was going to reach for it anyway.