Lethal Balance: Sons of the Survivalist: 2

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Lethal Balance: Sons of the Survivalist: 2 Page 7

by Cherise Sinclair


  JJ heard an uneasy note in Audrey’s voice. Perhaps Hawk wasn’t as likable as the rest of the brothers. There was always one, right?

  The entry from the garage opened into a long hallway. A door on the right revealed a huge exercise room with weightlifting equipment on the left and a martial arts training area with mats and mirrors and punching bags on the right. Farther down the hall, a bathroom was tucked under the stairs. The hallway opened into the main part of the house—a huge open arrangement beneath a high vaulted ceiling.

  A brick-backed wood-burning stove stood between tall front windows that looked out onto the lake. The left wall held a massive flat-screen television surrounded by the biggest sectional she’d ever seen.

  On the right front, under the windows was the dining area with a long oak table. The back on the right held a big kitchen, enclosed by two bar islands.

  She turned to look behind her. Over the hallway, the staircase climbed to a second-floor loft that took up about a half of the house. Privacy to that area was achieved with rustic wood doors. “The chief said something about an odd living arrangement?”

  “Yes.” Audrey motioned toward the stairs. “The second floor is a complete apartment—and that’s all yours. The first floor is considered the Hermitage’s common area where anyone feeling sociable can hang out. You’re welcome to use the space—just know someone might join you to watch TV or cook.”

  “Got it. You know, I never asked who this house belongs to.” JJ followed Audrey up the stairs.

  “It was their father’s. Mako died about a year ago in a car accident.” The loft had a long walkway with the railing on the left and a door in the center. Audrey pushed open the door and entered.

  JJ followed her in.

  A small living room was just big enough for a long leather couch, a recliner, a woodstove, and a carved wood bookcase. An archway on the left divided the room from a little kitchen with a two-person round dining table. Everything was in browns and blues, the furniture solid and comfortable. “This is wonderful. Really cozy.”

  “It is. Although when I called it cute-and-cozy rustic, the guys almost disowned me.” Audrey smiled slightly. “Mako raised the boys in an off-the-grid cabin in the middle of nowhere. I imagine he felt more at home up here in this little space than downstairs. Although when all four of the guys are home, even downstairs feels awfully crowded. Wait till you meet Bull, and you’ll understand what I mean.”

  Four guys. One cabin apiece. JJ’s stomach tightened. She’d be living here, surrounded by four men? None of whom she knew well?

  No choice. It would be all right. Gabe and Caz were okay guys.

  “There’s a balcony off the kitchen for when you want to have your coffee out there.” Audrey opened a door on the right. “This is your bedroom and bath.”

  JJ did a quick survey. A queen-size bed with dark wood nightstands and dresser. A tiny closet. A bright red, blue, and white patchwork quilt and blue rugs livened up the room.

  The bathroom, with a big shower, a soaking tub, and a granite-topped counter, was perfect. A cupboard held towels and toilet paper. Everything was clean to the point of sparkling.

  “Gabe and I made up the bed and put out towels. All clean.”

  “I thought I’d have to make a quick trip to town for bedding and towels. This is amazing. Thank you.”

  The guys came in then, filling the living room with her suitcases as well as the boxes she’d picked up from the post office in Anchorage. She’d mailed those a couple days after resigning.

  The memory of Chief Barlow’s furious expression when she’d handed in her two-week notice still made her smile.

  Although she’d found smiles were rare that week. Her emotions had been all over the place. After all, the Weiler police station had hired her and sent her to the academy where she’d made good on her dreams and found comradeship. Made friends. And then their sexism and Nash’s spiteful behavior had crushed those dreams and sense of belonging.

  How could she feel vindicated and like a failure at the same time?

  Hearing she was leaving, Nash and his friends had harassed her enough that she’d simply called in sick the final week and used the time to get the rest of her belongings into storage.

  Although she could have driven here on the Alcan Highway, flying had been so much easier. She sighed. Now she had belongings in both Nevada and Alaska.

  “Yo, people. Lunch is served.” The booming voice came from outside.

  Audrey smiled. “That’s Bull. He owns the Bull’s Moose Roadhouse and is a great cook. Let’s go eat.”

  JJ glanced at all the boxes and stuff. So much to unpack. “I should—”

  “Should get some food in you and have a chance to unwind,” Caz’s voice was authoritative—like a doctor. Yet the friendly concern was nice. “You have time to look around the place and to meet Bull. Gabe won’t put you to work this minute.” He shot an admonishing look at his brother.

  Yes, total doctor. Although…hmm…if all the brothers lived here, he must live in one of the houses? That could be a bit awkward. No, she wouldn’t let it be.

  Tucking an arm around Audrey, Gabe chuckled. “Relax, bro.” He smiled at JJ. “I’m a nice boss. You have today and all of tomorrow to settle in and check out the town. But that’s it. After that, I expect you at work. Deal?”

  “Deal.” Delight rose in her. Because he needed her. The town needed her.

  She followed everyone downstairs, out the door by the dining area, and across the deck.

  “This is the inner compound of the Hermitage,” Caz said.

  It was a huge grassy enclosure with the lake on one side and the half-circle of cabins on the other side. This sure wasn’t an elegant waterfront property with a pool and hot tub. No, their compound held an extensive vegetable garden, an orchard with dwarf fruit trees, and a small greenhouse.

  There was a red brick patio with a massive stone grill, and at the edge stood a black-iron pole with a hanging bell. An adorable screened gazebo sat close to the lakeshore.

  “This is great,” JJ murmured. They had a wilderness mini-farm. A farmlet?

  Caz’s smile was warm. “We like it.”

  “You even have chickens.” JJ stopped to look at the enclosed chicken yard and coop. The black and white chickens ran over to line up at the fence and cluck hopefully.

  “They love scraps like watermelon rinds, lettuce ends, and apple cores,” Caz told her.

  “Got it.” How pitiful was it that she couldn’t wait to feed the chickens?

  The sunlines at the edges of his eyes crinkled slightly. “You can toss them your leftovers anytime you want.”

  On the patio, a massively built man was removing food from the grill. He set a platter of grilled chicken onto the long glossy oak table and smiled at her. “I hope you’re hungry, Officer. I’m Bull, by the way.”

  “I’m starving. And it’s good to meet you, Bull. I’m JJ.”

  He had black eyes, a shaved head, a gray-flecked black goatee, and stood a good six-four. Perhaps Polynesian ancestry?

  Caz motioned to the long bench beside the table. “Come and sit. Let’s eat.”

  With brotherly insults and teasing, the men settled around the table with Audrey between Gabe and Bull. Caz joined JJ on the other side and passed her the platter of chicken. Food was served family style. The men had good manners—better, in fact, than most of the officers at the Weiler station.

  After relieving a bit of her hunger—Bull was a great cook—she asked, “Can I ask where the name the Hermitage came from?” Because it sounded like a monastery.

  “Bull called it that when we were building our houses.” Gabe motioned to the cabins with his glass of iced tea. “Since the compound housed Mako—a born hermit if there ever was one—he dubbed it the Hermitage.”

  “The sarge didn’t see the joke,” Bull said with a snort. “He stuck me with helping the contractor put in the septic system.”

  “At least he didn’t have you running laps
until you puked like when we were kids,” Gabe said. The three exchanged grins.

  Damn, their adopted father must’ve been a real hardass. Yet their expressions held grief as well as love. She studied the guys—the chief, the doc, and the restaurant owner. Mako had done a fine job of raising them to be men.

  When they finished eating, the guys started cleaning up, and JJ rose to help.

  Caz shook his head. “Not this time. You’re worn out and still need to unpack. Audrey, why don’t you sit with her and do girl-talk, yes? Later, if you have a moment, I could use help with a spreadsheet.”

  “Ooo, spreadsheets. I’m your girl.” Grinning, Audrey handed him her plate. As he walked away, she turned to JJ. “So, what do you think of the place?”

  JJ ignored the question. In an email, Gabe had mentioned Audrey had researched JJ’s background.

  Okay, let’s tackle this head-on. JJ pulled in a breath. “I know you ran the background check on me, which means you probably also saw the stuff written about me on social media. I just wanted you to know, I had a relationship with a fellow police officer and learned the hard way that work and pleasure don’t mix. To me, Gabe is off-limits. He’s my boss—and isn’t and never will be anything more. I just wanted you to know. Um, I also know that the man’s head-over-heels in love with you, and it’s not as if he was interested anyway, but I wanted that…clear, I guess?”

  At Audrey’s startled expression, JJ sighed. And I told the chief I was good with people?

  “Sorry, I guess that was a bit too blunt and—”

  “I like honesty. Yes, I saw what people wrote about you, but Gabe said that female cops have trouble like that—which sucks.” Audrey’s face softened. “When it comes right down to it, I trust Gabe’s judgment—and I trust him.”

  Really? The worry that had simmered in a spot right under JJ’s sternum dissipated, leaving warmth behind. She swallowed. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks needed. We women have to stick together.”

  Over by the grill, Cazador’s laugh rang out as he teased his brother about something. God, he had the Mexican version of Sean Connery’s voice. Every time he spoke, women’s ovaries probably melted.

  Huffing in exasperation, JJ shook the spell off.

  Audrey followed her gaze. “That man. Although Gabe makes my heart stop when I look at him, I have to admit Cazador is incredibly hot. Plus, he has all that Spanish charm to go with it.”

  He walked across the yard, moving like a cat—all lithe, graceful muscles.

  Hot was an understatement. “Yes, he’s very good-looking.”

  “Too good-looking.” Audrey shifted on the bench, obviously uncomfortable. “He has a bit of a…rep?”

  JJ felt her jaw go hard. “What kind of rep?”

  “No, no, nothing that would make you put on a cop face.”

  “Sorry.” It was the downside of being in law enforcement—seeing the worst in people. But Cazador had women asking for a night with him rather than the reverse. And she knew from experience he took no for an answer.

  “Actually, Caz is one of the most caring and honest people I know. It’s just…well, Gabe says he goes through women like most people go through potato chips, one after another.”

  “Oh, that.” JJ shrugged. She’d already known he was a man-ho.

  “I don’t want to make you think he’s a creep—he’s not. He doesn’t lie or mislead the women. He tells them upfront he doesn’t do relationships. It’s when women don’t believe him that there’s trouble.” Audrey was blushing. Embarrassed.

  “Thanks, Audrey.” Women looking out for each other. The same kind of sentiment had set JJ on the path to the police academy. “But…no warning needed. I’m not looking for a relationship, or a man, or sex, or anything.”

  Not after Nash and Weiler. Maybe she’d change her mind in a couple of years. Or five. Five sounded good. “I’m done.”

  Audrey blinked in confusion.

  Gabe and Caz walked back, side-by-side. As they gathered up the last of the condiments and dishes onto large trays, the chief eyed Audrey. “You’re all pink, Goldilocks. Are you too hot? Or are you talking about something that makes you blush, in which case, I want to know.”

  His teasing made Audrey turn even redder—and glance at Caz.

  JJ muffled a laugh. The woman had better avoid a poker table. Long before JJ was a teen, she’d learned to avoid giving away her thoughts. When Mom practiced dealing for her casino job, they’d both point out each other’s tells—the expressions or body language giving away information about the cards in their hand or their plans.

  As the two men carried their loads away, Gabe nudged Caz. “Bet she warned my officer about your dastardly reputation, stud.”

  “I am ruined.” Caz’s easy-going laugh was like a brush from a warm breeze. “It wouldn’t matter. I consider our Rescue women off-limits.”

  “Especially ones who carry firearms?”

  “Mako didn’t raise any fools, mi hermano.”

  JJ grinned…and felt a pang of regret. Someday, maybe, she’d find a man who didn’t care if she was a tough, firearm-wearing female. Yeah, in about five years she’d start looking.

  Chapter Six

  I think women are foolish to pretend they are equal to men, they are far superior and always have been. ~ William Golding

  * * *

  It was her first morning in Rescue.

  JJ had spent Monday evening unpacking and puttering around, locating where things were. Apparently, Mako had been compulsively neat. Then again, maybe he had a need to have things always ready for inspection. He’d been a sergeant, after all.

  However, the sarge must not have approved of modern conveniences. There were no fancy kitchen appliances, just the basics—stove, fridge, toaster, coffee pot. No dishwasher. The can opener was crank-handled.

  Yet she already loved the little apartment, and the location was astounding. No traffic, no sirens, no industrial noise. Just the lapping of the lake against the shore, the call of birds she had yet to identify, and the clucking of the chickens. She’d slept like a rock.

  Tuesday morning, in the twilight before dawn, she stepped onto the balcony. The air was cold and crisp, and so still the lake looked like gray-blue ice. The chickens hadn’t ventured out of their coop. Everything was silent.

  Beautiful.

  She caught her breath as something moved outside of the fence by the lake. A huge animal with a heavy rack. A moose. Oh, wow. She watched for a while until the cold drove her indoors.

  Inside, she puttered around, unpacking the last few things and storing the empty boxes and suitcases under the bed since she’d be moving again in a month.

  Time for the next item on her to-do list: check out Rescue and buy groceries. Coffee was first on the list.

  She drove down the narrow road and out onto Swan Avenue, then past the narrow end of the lake. On the other side was a well-graveled road with a sign: Lake Road. Just for fun, she turned right and checked out the lake on the side closest to town. This was a much more developed area.

  Gabe and his brothers had gone for the wild side. They had no neighbors; the tiny road ended at the Hermitage.

  She passed a sign pointing to Dante’s rental cabins. That would be where she’d be living in a month. Farther down was a small town park. At the end of the lake, the road dead-ended onto Dall Road. A right would take her to McNally Resort.

  On the left at the intersection was Bull’s Moose Roadhouse. She grinned. I know the owner. It almost made her feel at home.

  She found her way into Rescue, parked in front of Dante’s Market, and strolled down Main Street. Gabe had said the big tourist season was essentially over, although there were always some fishermen around. She saw three unshaven, flannel-shirted guys arguing about trout and lures. A young couple in spotless jeans and hoodies strolled hand-in-hand. An older man carried a chainsaw into the hardware store.

  An elderly couple stood in front of a big display window. JJ slowed to loo
k. It was an art gallery and a craft store combined. How cool was that?

  One corner of the display was filled with enough gorgeous yarns to make a person yearn. She’d learned to crochet as a kid. Hmm. She’d need a warm scarf, and from what the guys had said, she’d need stuff to do during the winter.

  A while later, after a pleasant chat with the storeowner, she was back out on the street with a crochet hook, yarn, and patterns.

  As the aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries caught her, she followed the scent right down the street to the coffee shop. Sugar and caffeine—what more could a girl want? Even better, the place was located across from the police station.

  The day of her interview, JJ’d learned the chief liked his coffee past dark and approaching tar. Ugh. This looked like a far more palatable option.

  Behind the counter, a short brunette in her thirties smiled. “Welcome. What can I get you?”

  JJ studied the goodies in the glass display. “I’d like an apple strudel and a latte, please.”

  “Coming right up.” As the woman worked the machine, she gave JJ a keen look. “Would you happen to be our new police officer?”

  “I am.” JJ glanced down. Had she strapped on her weapons belt? No, she was in her usual jeans, boots, and jean jacket over a flannel shirt over a tank top. “How did you know?”

  “Caz was in this morning and gave me a description. Welcome to Rescue. I’m Sarah.”

  Now how would Cazador have described her? The officer who bled all over his exam table? “Thanks. I’m looking forward to starting tomorrow.”

  “You’ll find Rescue an interesting place to work.” Sarah placed her hand on her pregnant belly. “Alaska has some of the nicest people in the world—and a fair amount of drunks, fighting, and sexism.”

  “Ah, well, that’s nothing new.” Smiling, JJ accepted her drink and pastry and paid. Alaska definitely had some nice people.

  Before she reached a table, a car horn blared—followed by a metallic crash. From the sound of the impact, it was more than a fender-bender.

 

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