Chapter Eight

When his alarm went off, Gabe silenced the damn thing with a curse and squinted against the bright morning light. His bedroom on the second floor overlooked the living room—and he hadn’t closed the wooden pocket doors that gave the loft some privacy. Sunlight streamed through the huge downstairs windows right into his room.

Hell. After stretching, he walked out of the bedroom. Naked, but it wasn’t as if anyone could see him. Mako’d insisted on buying enough acres to make the Hermitage as isolated as possible while still being close to town. It’d cost some bucks to get electricity to this side of the lake, but even the sarge had admitted he enjoyed the convenience.

Leaning on the railing, Gabe looked out over the downstairs and then outside.

The lake was buried in a dark gray mist…the color of Julie’s eyes.

His mouth twisted. Welcome to a crappy new morning. Even if his shoulder felt better, his conscience now had an ache that massage wouldn’t relieve.

Sure, Ms. Juliette Wilson had lied about her name and probably other things. Liars pissed him off to the nth degree, especially when it came to the female gender. Guess he could thank his ex-wife for that.

Even so, he could have handled last night better.

He scowled at the urge to retreat to the wilderness. Away from people who’d do anything they wanted without a care for whom they hurt in the process.

And now he’d hurt someone—he’d seen her face as he left—and even if she was a liar, he still felt like shit. For all he knew, the city girl had a damn good reason for being in Alaska and lying her head off.

Hell, people were always moving to Alaska and changing their names, hiding their pasts. Starting over. He, Bull, Caz, and Hawk had done the very same thing.

Yeah, he’d overreacted.

With a sigh, he walked into the master bath’s big tiled shower that he’d installed with his first merc paycheck.

As the nearly scalding water beat against his back, knotted muscles began to relax. Civilization did have some rewards, after all. Damned if he hadn’t missed inside plumbing and hot water last winter.

As he scrubbed, he caught faint whiffs of a light spicy scent. Julie’s—or whatever her name was.

Dammit.

A shave and clean clothes later, he headed downstairs to the kitchen and brewed up a cup of strong black coffee. Cup in hand, he walked out onto the lakeside deck and leaned on the railing.