Page 31

GIDEON

Jesus fucking Christ.Shutting that door has got to be the most monumental display of self-control I’ve ever experienced. Everything inside me demanded that I claim her as mine right then and there. The only thing that had snapped me out of my deranged stupor had been the sight of the scars on her back. My arousal had swiftly turned into anger at who or what had put them there.

Thoughts of Winnow consume the entirety of my day, and some strange weight tugging in my chest seems to wind tighter the more I resist—like a fish on a line being reeled in. My crew noticed I was a little off today and steered clear, even if Beau was nosy as dick, as per usual.

“You got your panties in a twist today for any particular reason, or is it just your time of the month?”

It’s only then that I realize the tension in my face is there because I’m scowling. My eyes gradually lift from yet another one of Gertie’s godforsaken Excel spreadsheets.

“If Gertie were here to hear you say that, she’d smack you upside the head.”

Beau fists the front of his shirt as his body tips over to rest on the door frame. “Goddamn, I wish that woman would. From her, any attention is good attention.”

Beau doesn’t bother to hide his affection for her. Every time she’s in the room, his tongue practically lolls out of his mouth and onto the floor, even if she is eight years older than him.

I shake my head at the poor lovesick bastard, never mind the fact I’m about a day away from following in his footsteps if Winnow sticks around.

“Uh-huh. And how’s that workin’ out for ya?”

Beau huffs a dry laugh. “You just wait, Kincaid. I’m gonna marry that woman one day.”

A corner of my mouth tips in a grin. “Mhm. What’s she got to say about that?”

Beau heaves a sigh, rolling his bright golden-brown eyes. “Something about me being too young and not shitting where she eats, but it’s more than that. I see the way she looks at me. There’s something else holding her back, and by God, I’m gonna find out what.”

The near-perennial grin on Beau’s face returns. “But enough about my love life—I know that sour-ass look. Worn it too many times myself not to know what put it there.” Beau waggles his eyebrows at me. “I’d bet my left nut it was a woman.”

I know for a fact they don’t know anything about Winnow being at my house. I’ve made damn sure of it because for some reason, I feel extremely possessive over her. As much love as I have for Beau and Levi, I’m pretty sure I’d break someone’s nose if they tried to flirt with her. And while Levi probably wouldn’t—because I’ve never seen that motherfucker flirt with anyone other than death—Beau could flirt the stripes off a tiger.

“If you must know, I have a crick in my neck.”

It’s not exactly a lie. The pull-out bed on the couch isn’t exactly comfortable, and I definitely slept wrong. Though it isn’t the reason I’m scowling, my neck is sore as fuck.

Beau studies me for a moment as if determining whether or not to believe my not-lie. “Uh-huh. You and I both know a crick in the neck can only be caused by two things: sleeping in a hasty fighting position and a woman.”

The muscles in my back and neck scream in phantom protest at simply hearing the wordshasty fighting position,and I immediately have to stretch my neck.I have no doubt there’s a special circle in hell where the dead are only allowed to sleep in hasty fighting positions—a small pit where you’re forced to sleep with one eye open because you’re behind enemy lines.

I give him a rueful smirk, eyes dropping back to the blasted computer work in front of me, and call out, praying to God Gertie’s nearby to save me.

“Gertie! Come get your boy and tell him to mind his own damn business!’

Beau gives a dramatic gasp.“So it is a woman!”

“Fuck off. When was the last time you saw me with a woman?”

Gertie shouts back from somewhere near the stables opposite the barn.

“He don’t belong to me, Kincaid! Handle him yourself!”

Beau’s eyes lift to the wall behind me as if he can see directly through it to her, and a grin tilts his lips as he calls out. “And yet you knew who he was talking about!”

Gertie doesn’t even bother responding, and my heart pinches with sympathy because fuck me—the idea of Winnow treating me strictly as a friend and colleague, makes my gut churn.

I mean… I have seen the way Gertie sneaks glances at him. How she dresses with a little more oomph or wears make-up on the days he’s scheduled to be here, and not out teachinghis survivalist or weapons handling and marksmanship training courses.

And it seems those lingering looks are all Beau needs to remain unthwarted.

“Mark my words, Reaper…” Beau lifts his left hand and points to his ring finger. “Gimme another year, and Gertrude Carson, soon-to-be Gertrude Shepherd, will be wearing my ring on her finger.”