Maggie climbed the stairs to Cage’s apartment, keeping an eye on the street, if someone walked up to the diner she could call down and let them know to have a seat. She was only going to be a minute.

At the top landing she had to take a steadying breath just to make sure her hand wasn’t shaking the paper bag with the sandwiches in it. It was like she was standing out on the front porch of her high school crush.

Because she was.

And it wasn’t really high school so much as a group home and a last chance graduation program, but no one’s perfect.

Before she lost her nerve, she knocked on the door twice and waited. When he didn’t answer after a minute, she tried again.

Leaning her head against the door, she didn’t hear a thing.

A noise down the street turned her head and she saw a pick-up truck coming down the long access road toward their neck of the industrial woods. “Dang it.”

She made one last knock on the door. “Well, if someone doesn’t answer I’ll-”

The door swung open and she turned.

Cage was standing just inside, bare-chested, his hair sleep-tousled, and his long cotton sleep pants barely holding onto his hips. In a word, he was… delicious.

“Mornin’ gorgeous,” his voice was a sleep-laden growl and sexy as hell.

If she had any thoughts of appearing seductive and irresistible they went out of her head and all she could do was lift her arm and hold up the bag in front of him. “It’s late. I wanted to give you and Frances something to eat for breakfast, before I-”

He pulled the bag from her hand and dropped it on the little table just inside the door, before he stepped out onto the landing and pulled her into his embrace.

“Cage, I-”

Lord, he knew how to kiss.

And his hands… wow. They seemed to be everywhere. Tugging on her ponytail, moving over her back, sliding over her curves and then cupping her backside and tugging her closer so she was up against every inch of his hard heat from her knees to her breasts.

Cage moaned, and she felt the vibrations through her mouth and throat, swallowing his desire as she tangled her tongue with his.

He had her weak in the knees and needy, her arms wrapped around his chest, pulling him closer. When he turned and trailed kisses along her cheek, scratching her tender flesh with the scruff along his jaw, she hissed out a gasp. And then another when his teeth dragged along the shell of her ear.

“Come inside.”

Oh yes, she wanted to so badly, but-

“Cage?” Frances’s voice was heavy with sleep. “Who’s out there with you? Oh!”

Maggie swallowed and managed to pull back enough from Cage and hoped her heart would slip back down from her throat and back into her chest. “Good Morning, Frances.”

“Hey, Maggie, what’s up?”

“You two didn’t come down to the diner for breakfast,” Maggie stepped to the side and lifted a hand to settle some fly away curls against her skin, “so I brought you some sandwiches and-”

“Oh! Food?” Frances grabbed the bag off the table and pulled open the top. Leaning her face into the opening she drew in a deep breath. “Fried egg and bacon sandwiches? Scrummy! Thanks, Maggie!” And then she was gone, disappearing into her room.

“Sorry, Cage, looks like she’s going to eat the whole thing.”

He still had one hand on her hip and he tucked his fingers into the waistband of her jeans and pulled her closer. “That’s alright, Maggie, I’ll get something to eat, later.”

She caught the look in his eyes and wondered if he was considering putting her on the menu. Truthfully, she wouldn’t mind. It wasn’t that it had been a long time since she’d been with a man. Okay, that was part of it, but what was at the heart of the matter was that this was Cage.

Cage Gamble wanted her. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice, and she could certainly feel it when he touched her, when he pressed up against her and she felt how hard he was against her belly.

Below them, the bell over the front door of the diner jangled, and she pulled away on instinct.

“Come by when you have a minute. I’ll make you something.”

“You make me something every day, Maggie.” His slow grin and his cat-like purr spoke straight to her heart and all the nerves in her body. “I can’t wait to return the favor.”

“I’d like that.” His presence was like a wall of pressure, bearing against her, threatening to roll her under. “But I have to go back… customers, you know?”

He nodded and she pulled back even further.

When he reached out, he caught her elbow before she could pull away.

“Careful,” his grin made her feel warm all over, “you were going to fall.”

She looked down behind her and he was right. Her next step would have sent her falling down the stairs to the ground. “Umm… thanks, Cage.”

“If you’re going to fall for me, Maggie, I’ll take care of you. It won’t hurt.”

Oh, she was sure it would. Falling for a man as hard as Cage Gamble, his personality, she reminded herself, was going to hurt somehow. She doubted that Cage ever ‘gave’ much when he made up his mind about something.

“I have a fight tonight. I want you to come.”

“I don’t know.” She jogged down a few steps, knowing that she had to get into the diner. “Maybe another night.”

“Maggie.” He walked to the end of the landing and leaned down toward her. “You should come.”

“What about Frances? Shouldn’t I stay with her?” A few more steps. She caught Mr. Foley’s eye as he looked out the diner window and raised his hand in greeting. “I can stay with her.”

“I’ve got someone staying with Frances, Maggie. Please come.”

She reached the bottom step and nearly stumbled. “When you’re dressed, come over to the diner and we’ll talk. Okay?”

Maggie had gone a few steps before turning back to look at him, and what a view it was. Standing there near the top landing, Cage was a study in languid beauty, one hand behind his neck, working at tight muscles she’d give her eye-teeth to trail her hands over. Standing bare-chested in the chilly spring morning he made her warm all over and ache in all the best places.

If there was one man in the world that could convince her to hide away in her bedroom for days on end, it would be Cage.

“We’ll see each other later, babe. Bet on it.”

Maggie let out a long breath as she crossed the street and dashed into the diner. Mr. Foley looked up from his newspaper, a cup of coffee in front of him. “I hope you don’t mind.”

She gave him a bright smile. “You angling for my job, Mr. Foley?”

“Oh, no. Not me, Maggie. I enjoy my time reading in the mornings.”

Picking up her apron from the back of one of the chairs, she wrapped it around her waist and tied it in the back. “Same order?”

He gave it a thought. “Hmm, what about we try something new this morning?”

“Oh, a challenge,” she reached for an egg from the tray, knowing that there’d at least be one egg involved, “I can get behind that.”

He looked at the menu board over the pass-through window. “Hmm, why don’t we make Mrs. Foley happy and make it a vegetable omelet?”

Maggie playfully dropped her jaw. “Say it isn’t so!”

“I know… I know… if my employees hear about this they may never respect me again.”

“Well that would be a shame, but I would still respect you, Mr. Foley.”

“You’re a sweetheart, Maggie.”

She set a bunch of vegetables on her cutting board and started to chop them into uniformly sized pieces. “You’re welcome to say that anytime you like,” she set the pan on the burner and dropped the cut veggies in. “My ego will gladly take the propping.”

“Like you need more confidence, Maggie.” He turned the page on his newspaper, “you’ve got it in spades.”

She tucked her chin down so he couldn’t see her expression, even if he looked up right then. “I wish that was true.”

She’d come a long way since her painfully shy and slightly twisted teen persona, but she wasn’t quite as sure of herself as she would like. But, she reminded herself, she was getting there.

* * *

That evening, Maggie was glad that her diner was primarily a breakfast to lunch establishment, because it allowed her to have her evenings free. She unpacked the plates she’d brought over from the diner and almost had to dance back a step from the table as Frances descended on the food like… well, a lion.

“It’s a bloody shame,” the younger girl groused, “this balanced diet rubbish.” She poked her fork at the two half-cobbs of corn Maggie had put on her plate. “Just meat is fine for me.”

“Far be it for me to argue with you, but when I spoke to Willa, she gave me the full run down on shifter nutrition. So, I’m afraid as long as you have meals with me, you’ll be forced to eat vegetables and grains along with the meat.”

“What about French Fries,” Frances wondered as she poked at the corn again with the tines of her fork, “that’s a vegetable, right?”

“Ha!” Maggie shook her head. “Keep trying.”

Frances cut off a piece of the steak and smiled when she saw how red it was inside. “Oh, perfect.” She stuffed a piece of the meat into her mouth and moved it over into her cheek. “So, have you met any of Willa’s boys?”

Maggie almost swallowed her water down the wrong pipe. Coughing slightly, she managed not to choke. “Is that a thinly veiled hint for information?”

Frances shrugged as she chewed. “Maybe?”

Picking up one of the half-cobs, Maggie held it between her fingers on both sides. “I guess it can’t be too easy meeting boys when you’re the new girl.”

Frances groaned. “Not just the new girl, but the orphaned shifter to boot. Talk about a recipe for isolation.”

That hit close to home and Maggie let out a sigh, setting her cob back down to her plate without a bite. “I can see how that would be a pain.”

Picking up her napkin, Frances dabbed at the corner of her mouth. “Those awkward teenage feelings they talk about in all of those mental-health pamphlets? Add an accent and some sharp claws and yep. It’s fairly hell nearly every day.”

“And finding some shifter boys to hang out with might seem like half the battle is over.”

Frances paused with another bite hovering before her mouth. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care if folks are shifter or just plain human, but yeah, right now, the less I have to explain myself, the better.”

“Dealing without the pressure, that must seem like heaven!”

Shrugging, Frances barely hid her smile. “You really do understand. Getting along with the curious folks and the evil folks leave me proper knackered. Sometimes I get back here and all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep.”

Maggie finished another bite and reached for her napkin. “Is that what you’re planning to do tonight? Get your homework done and go to sleep?”

Frances sighed. “What else do I have to do?” A sly smile touched her lips. “I know that Cage is sending Brass to watch the door, he says it’s to keep me safe, instead of keeping me in.”

Laughing at the sardonic tone of her voice, Maggie reached across the table and touched the back of her hand. “He is protecting you. I hear the fights can get a little rowdy and some of the customers… or whatever they’re called, can get a little into their cups.”

“You mean drunk?” Frances took another bite. “Yeah, well I can handle myself.”

There was an edge to Frances’ voice that called to something inside of Maggie, something she thought she’d locked away somewhere in the past. “I’m sure you can, Frances, but that’s not the real point.” Maggie curled her hand around Frances’ and gave it a squeeze. “You’re a strong girl and I don’t know enough about shifters to say how strong your lion is, but I’m guessing you could take down a couple of guys bigger than you are.”

Her lips curled into almost a snarl. “Oh, we know we could.”

Maggie almost laughed out loud at the growl in Frances’ tone. “But the point I’m trying to make is that you don’t have to. Not anymore. Cage and I-”

Frances stopped chewing and swallowed as a knock sounded at the door.

For a moment, neither one of them moved.

The fork in Frances’ hand hit the plate with a clatter. “You?”

“I’m here for you, Frances, as long as you need me… as long as you want me to be. I want to help you-”

“Because of Cage?”

Maggie heard the sharp edge of the girl’s voice and she recognized that kind of suspicion. Sometimes it was the help that people offered that made you the most suspicious. It was easier to believe it wasn’t true than to accept help, even at the danger of pushing away the good. And to be fair, Maggie had heard all kinds of fake platitudes when she was Frances’ age. She understood, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to reach out. She tried again, hoping that Frances would hear the truth in her words.

“Because I care. Because I want to help.” She got up and started to walk toward the door to answer the second set of knocks. “Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re all alone… but you don’t want to be.”

Maggie opened the door and gave Brass a smile. “Sorry it took me a minute.”

He shrugged off the apology. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m not going to get mad. Especially not at you.”

“Really now?” Taking her coat off the hook, she pulled it up one arm. “Why not me?”

Brass met Frances’ eyes over her shoulder and then looked back up into her face. “Because?”

Maggie knew that Brass was a tiger but knowing that he could turn all fangs and fur she gave him a narrowed-eye stare and a curved eyebrow she’d always found particularly effective. “I really hope you don’t expect to get away with that as an actual answer, Brass.”

As she watched, the other man actually squirmed a little bit and then turned to look at Frances with an expectant look on his face.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Frances shrug and then smirk at Brass. “You’re on your own, Tigger.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Hey,” Maggie glared at him, “watch your language around Frances!”

Frances laughed. “I’ve said worse.”

“And Brass isn’t going to contribute to your vocabulary.”

“Hey,” the tiger snorted, “she taught me a few from England, you should hear the one she said I should use when-”

“Are you done?” Maggie shook her head. “Because if you are here to take care of Frances, I expect you to at least try to act like an adult.”

“Wow, that sucks.”

Maggie tried to ignore Brass’ lack of a filter, especially when she picked up her wallet and keys and stuck them in her hip pocket. “Frances?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you try to make sure that Brass behaves?”

Leaning on the edge of the table the teen laughed. “Brilliant! Will do, Maggie.” Skewering Brass with a look she pointed at another seat at the table. “Sit, Tigger.”

Brass growled deep in his throat, but Frances showed no fear.

“He’ll be good, I promise. He’s just being a pain because he knows who you are.”

Maggie held the door open and turned back to look at the two sitting at the table. “What do you mean?”

Brass looked away from Maggie’s curious gaze, but Frances met her eyes with a smile.

“You’re Cage’s mate, Maggie. It makes all the difference in the world. Tigger won’t do anything to hurt you or be a big enough wanker that you’d lose your temper with him. Because if he did, Cage would rip him to shreds. Quite literally. Right, Tigger?”

Taking the lid off his plate, Brass grumbled at his meal.

“See?” Frances laughed. “Now go and enjoy the fight. Don’t worry about sending him home too soon. I have hours of torture planned for my pal Tigger.”

* * *

Truck met her at the back door and guided her in through the ‘backstage’ crowd and opened his hand to offer her a pair of earplugs. “Want these?”

She took a long look at the earplugs and then pushed his hand away. “No thanks.”

The larger man gave her a second chance to reach for the plugs before he gave a weak shrug and dropped them into his jacket pocket. Leaning closer, Truck spoke directly into her ear. “Cage wants me to take you to a place where you can see the fight, but you won’t be too close to the crowd.”

“Is he afraid I’m going to get lost?” Her attempt at humor faded away when she saw Truck’s expression in reply.

“He doesn’t want you hurt. Some of the guys that come to watch this, they like to trade elbows with the other spectators. More often than not, we’re called in to separate people so they don’t spill blood on the floor.”

“Lovely.” Even though they were nearly ten feet from the back of the crowd surrounding the ring, the sound was near deafening. “Looks like it’s popular.”

Truck didn’t have any trouble hearing her words. The black bear inside of him had excellent hearing. “Cage is doing good business here. He keeps the fights fair.”

Maggie kept her eyes on the two men grappling in the ring. They wore tape wrapped around their hands but no boxing gloves. “Are they out of their minds?”

Truck spared the fight a glance before he answered her and guided them to a section of the warehouse that had no one in it. “Some guys get off on bare-knuckle boxing.”

She cringed. “And some like seeing the shifters fight?”

“That’s about it. We have stuff for everyone’s interests.” He pointed off into the darkness to the other side of the warehouse and she saw the barely distinguishable outline of another ring, but this one was almost twice as high. “Cage’s fight will be over there.”

Maggie shook her head. “No.”

“You should know-”

“I don’t want to watch this.”

“He’s not going to get really hurt. That’s not why they do this.”

“Then why?” She wasn’t sure she even heard her own voice above the raucous crowd. “Why would he willingly get hurt?”

“Well, I can’t answer for Cage,” Truck told her, “but I do this to get the wild side out. I let it out, so it doesn’t eat away at me from the inside.”

The crowd erupted into cheers and boos, depending on which side of the fight they were cheering for. The crew for each of the fighters got them out of the ring and started them toward opposite doors on the same wall.

As the noise died down a bit, Truck stepped closer. “Just stay at my side. No one will give you any trouble if you’re with me.”

Maggie spared a glance at Truck, standing at her side. The man was easily six feet and seven or eight inches. He made nearly everyone in the room look like a ninety-eight-pound weakling, even the men with bulging biceps and necks that looked like tree trunks. “Stay close to you. I think I can handle that.”

Overhead lights clicked on over the caged ring and all of a sudden the gathered crowd around the first ring were now rushing to get a good position around the cage. Within moments the original area was empty except for groups of folding chairs and left-over trash from solo cups and paper from the concession food.

As the lights in the original area lowered, a crew of young men rushed in with brooms and dumpsters to clear the space while the crowd finished jostling for a good seat or place to stand.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” The announcer called out over the PA system and Maggie winced when she realized that she was likely the only woman in the room. “The third and final fight of the evening is one you’ve all been waiting for! Our contender comes to us from Chicago! This fierce competitor has decided to try his luck in the cage tonight…”

The crowd seemed to laugh or jeer as the fighter emerged from one of the locker room doors. Bare-chested, with a thin pair of athletic trunks held tight to his abs by a thick elasticized waistband like an old-time fighter. And someone had taken the time to oil up his skin to shine in the lights.

“Let’s hear it for Derrick Kendall!”

The crowd gave an enthusiastic welcome, a few shouting out such gems as, “It’s your funeral!” or “Kick his ass!”

Maggie reached out and grabbed Truck’s arm. “What kind of a shifter is he?”

“Grizzly bear.”

Maggie nodded slowly. “And Cage is going to be okay?”

“Just watch,” Truck gave her hand a pat, but neither the gesture or his words took the weight off her shoulders.

“And now, the one you’ve been waiting for,” the announcer seemed to be taking particular pleasure working up the crowd, using his tone and inflection to make the most of the relatively short intro, “our resident clawed combatant, a man with nerves of steel and claws of death! Let’s hear it for Cage Gamble!”

The crowd started to chant, at first in countered rhythms that made it hard to hear the word, but in moments they’d managed to coordinate their timing and she heard his first name clearly.

A shadow filled the second doorway and the cheers were near deafening. Maggie suddenly wished she’d taken Truck up on his offer.

The cheers shortened down to a single word, “Cage! Cage!” Over and over they continued as Cage jogged through the crowd. Security stepped in to open a path through the assembled patrons up to the corner of the cage where they had the reinforced door that would both let him into the ring and keep him inside when the fight started.

Once he was inside he turned around and stared through the crowd. She didn’t know how she was sure, but she knew he was looking right at her. Where she was standing was an area almost entirely dark and tucked away behind the crowd, and most of them on their feet.

She stood stock still and held her breath, reciting any sort of prayer that she could remember as Cage turned in one wide circle to look at the whole crowd.

Maggie saw him standing in one corner of the ring, encouraging the crowd to shout out and make some noise. She saw how his opponent glared at him, the anger in his eyes. She tightened her hold on Truck’s arm and prayed that Cage would make it through the fight, and that she would too.

Because, right then, Maggie wasn’t so sure she would be able to watch what was about to happen.

But for Cage? She would try.