Free Masters 02 Master of the Abyss by Cherise Sinclair Page A

a fist, growling like Mufasa if someone tried to steal a newly killed mouse.
    Growling. Hitting. Very antisocial. She’d better visit her sanctuary and de-stress or she’d rip Wyatt’s head right off his shoulders. Not that it would affect anything—his brain must be located elsewhere.
    * * *
    Jake and Logan walked into the ClaimJumper. The country-western music hit Jake first—“Good Hearted Woman” with Waylon and Willie. Not bad. At least the owner, Gustaf, hadn’t put on his beloved Johnny Cash. Yet.
    The scent of beer, burgers, and french fries overwhelmed the traces of maybe-I’ll-get-laid aftershave and perfumes. At first glimpse, he thought the entire thousand-plus population of Bear Flat had jammed into the tiny tavern, but no—just another Saturday night. Tourists from the handful of bed-and-breakfasts and the local motel mingled with loggers and locals and a few fishermen from the river lodge. And delivery men. Sitting at a table near the door, the redheaded, muscular guy who delivered sodas to the lodge nodded. “Fellas.”
    “Evening, Secrist,” Jake said. He noticed most of the preponderantly male population watched the eye candy in the far corner where Serena and Gina sat with Logan’s fiancée.
    On the way out the door, Rebecca had announced she planned to indulge herself during the girls’ night out—which was why Logan had talked Jake into driving him into town. He would take no chances of his pretty sub splattering herself all over the zigzagging highway.
    Avoiding the antlers festooned with baseball and cowboy hats, Jake leaned a shoulder against the rough log wall and studied Becca. The curvy redhead looked happy—she usually did—but right now, she appeared both tipsy and giggly. He glanced at Logan. “She looks like a girl hanging out with girls.”
    Logan set a foot on a chair, his hands braced on his leg as he studied his submissive. “She’s been missing this, hasn’t she?”
    “Seems so. Sociable as she is, she probably had a bunch of girlfriends in San Francisco.”
    “And none here. Fuck me for being so blind. I’ll make sure she takes more time off and gets into town, even if I have to drag her.”
    Jake winced. “No dragging, please. My stomach isn’t up to another of your wars.” The last time business called them to San Francisco, Rebecca had insisted she’d stay at the lodge. Unwilling to risk his city girl alone in the woods, Logan had swatted her on the ass and stuffed her into the car. Bad mistake. The redhead was a magnificent cook, but the following week, nothing he or Logan ate had been edible. Damned if he knew how she’d ruined their food and still fed the guests well. And he was still pissed off that she’d included him in the battle.
    Logan grinned. “Wimp. But I’ll let her decide. Bless Kallie for inviting her tonight.”
    “Kallie invited her? Kallie will be here?” Jake’s gut twisted like a worm impaled on a hook. Hell, he wouldn’t have come if he’d known.
    “Yeah.” Logan watched Rebecca for a minute, smiling each time she laughed. “God, she’s beautiful.”
    “She is that.” And she’d turned his brother’s world around. Thank you, Becca.
    “Looks like we might as well get a beer.” Logan jerked his chin toward a burly man across the room. “Bart’s here, so I’m going to check on our hardware order. Grab me a beer.”
    “You bet.” As Logan headed for the lumberyard owner, Jake scoped out the rest of the room, nodding to the people he knew. Was the sprite here?
    She was—at the bar beside David Whipple, and as Jake watched, the grocer wrapped his arm around her. Possessively.
    A growl escaped, startling Jake as much as a flabby tourist nearby, who edged farther away. Hell, put a lock on it, Hunt. She’s not yours.
    Is too.
    In her own unique scruffy pixie way, Kallie was even more beautiful than Rebecca. Her short hair was tousled, like she’d just got out of bed. It had looked like that after I spanked her . She’d