Free Love Grows in Alaska (The Washington Triplets) by Michelle Lynn

already, shouting at one another. Jogging around the corner, my hand grips the wall when Wes’s fist slams into Camden and he falls back. “Stop!” I scream, but suddenly, I’m the one being stopped. A set of strong hands grip my hips and pull me back. I’m ready to slap them before Zach’s face comes into view, turning that anger to lust again.
    “Stay here,” Zach’s sultry voice instructs, pinning me against the wall, wishing his body was the force. I watch his back when he walks away, swearing his muscles flex under his t-shirt, but maybe that’s my hope. He closes the distance between me and the guys quickly, placing his hand on Camden’s throat and pushing him against the glass wall. His take-charge demeanor turns me on even more.
    With it being the middle of dinner time, the people milling around stop in their tracks to witness the unfolding scene as though it’s a play put on for their viewing. As much as it upsets me, can I blame them? I too am watching the drama unfold with much wonder. Too consumed with the bystanders, I must have missed Zach escort Camden outside because the only person left in the lobby is Wes. That is until he runs out following them.
    Wavering back and forth if I should leave the spot Zach designated for me to stay, I decide I don’t need another guy to dictate my moves. Beginning to walk through the lobby, I hear the hushed whispers of people. That’s Zach Greer and I’m unsure who the two others are . I tilt my head and bite the inside of my check because it’s a small town, and everyone knows Zach, but how do the tourists know who he is? Uneasiness washes over me that there’s so much I don’t know about the man.
    Circling through the doors again, it’s Zach’s voice that booms through the night air. “Get off the property and if you ever try that stunt again, we’ll call the cops.” His fingers are clenched in Camden’s jacket, holding a fear-stricken Camden an inch away from his face. Camden’s eyes veer my way and Zach follows.
    “Marisa,” Camden pleas and Zach releases his grip, making Camden stumble backward until he catches his footing.
    “I told you to wait.” He storms my way, his eyes fuming with rage. Holding my ground, my feet remain planted. When we’re chest-to-chest, the anger diminishes, showing more nervousness and alarm. I’m half pissed off that he’s dictating my moves, but the worry on his face keeps my mouth shut while my heart is rambling a zillion thoughts for this man. The distraction of me allows Wes and Camden’s fury to rise and vulgarities spew with fists cocked. Except this time it’s Camden’s solid punch making Wes bleed. “Shit,” Zach mumbles, grabbing my arms, he inches closer to me. “Please, just stay.” His gentle eyes plead and I nod, before he turns on his heels and storms between the two again.
    Holding the two of them apart with his arms stretched out, Zach disregards me, his attention solely on them this time. “I’ve had it. I’m about to throw you out,” he says toward Wes. “Drive you to the police station,” he says to Camden. “We do not have people behave this way in King’s Gate.”
    “I’m sorry, it’s my fault.” Libby’s soft voice steals the attention away from Zach.
    “Lib.” Wes turns at her voice and Zach lets him go. “I told you I have this handled,” he informs her, but she shakes her head, her arms wrapped around herself.
    “This is my doing; I need to take care of it.” She places her hand on his arm, stepping closer to Camden. Once she reaches me, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and walk the distance with her. A combined force if you will. Zach loosens his grip and this time Camden falls to the ground. Standing up fast to his feet, he’s right in front of Libby and I. “I’m sorry, Camden,” she says.
    “Sorry, my ass. You and this mother fucker.” Camden’s angry voice alarms Zach, so he plants himself between the two while I hold Libby close to me. “How could