EXCERPT: I-Team Male Bonding — Gabe meets Marc, then Julian



    I posted this excerpt to my Yahoo group, but I thought I would post it here as well. My last post was so serious, and I know how hot men cheer you all up.

    These scenes take place in the first half of the story. The first scene shows when Gabe meets Marc. The second is their second meeting, but this time Julian is along for the ride. Since there are those of you who never, ever seem to get enough Julian and others who can't get enough Marc Hunter, I thought you might enjoy these little snippets.

    When Gabe meets Marc...


    “Kat!” Gabe was on his feet, blocking her path, drawing her into his arms,
    relieved when she seemed to come willingly. He ran a finger over the curve
    of her cheek. “It wouldn’t have been like that, not with you. If we’d had
    sex—”

    The doorbell rang, stopping him from saying God only knew what.

    “That must be Marc.” She drew away and hurried off to get her things.

    Gabe opened the door and found a man about his own age. With shoulder-length brown hair and wearing a faded denim jacket, the man stood tall enough to look Gabe straight in the eye, and Gabe was certain he’d seen him somewhere before.

    “I’m guessing you’re here for Kat.” Gabe moved aside to let him in.

    The man stomped the snow off his boots and stepped inside, sizing Gabe up like a big brother who’d found a stranger sniffing around his little sister. It made Gabe wonder whether Kat had mentioned their little make-out session when she’d spoken with her friend. And why did the bastard look so familiar?

    The man held out his hand. “Marc Hunter, Denver PD.”

    And then it clicked. This was the son of a bitch Gabe had spent three weeks chasing through the mountains in the dead of winter, the son of a bitch whose face had spent the better part of a month hanging on Gabe’s office wall — on a wanted poster.

    “Gabe Rossiter, Boulder Mountain Parks.” Gabe shook Hunter’s hand, giving back as good as he got. “I busted my ass trying to bring you in.”

    “It’s lucky for both of us that you didn’t find me.” Hunter glanced about, obviously looking for Kat, his gaze falling on a climbing harness that Gabe had overlooked on the hallway floor. “You’re a rock jock, huh? I bet that helps you out when it comes to scrambling up the east face of the Third Flatiron and shit.”

    Third Flatiron above Boulder

    <----East Face/West Face--->

    “No, not the east face of the Third.” You prick. “But it did come in handy when a couple of guys got stuck in a freak blizzard climbing the Diamond on Longs Peak not too long ago.”

    The Diamond

    Hunter’s eyebrows rose a notch, and he nodded. “Thanks, by the way, for saving Kat’s life this past summer and for stopping that son of a bitch who pulled her hair. I’d like to kick his ass.”

    “That makes two of us.”

    And later in the story.....

    You saved her life, man.

    The thought struck Gabe right between the eyes, seeped through him, leaving him with a bone-deep sense of… satisfaction. He was used to saving lives, but not like this. To know that Kat was alive tonight because of something he’d done…

    Maybe you don’t suck after all, Rossiter.

    He turned the water in the shower and stepped under the warm spray, washing dirt, sweat, and blood from his skin, letting the water loosen his tense muscles. Then he got out, dried off, and dressed his wound, the sting of antiseptic making him cuss a blue streak. He’d just covered it with a large bandage when his doorbell rang.

    He skipped the underwear and slipped into a pair of jeans. Taking no chances, he picked up his HK .40-cal semi-auto—he’d seen the last of the Glock, which belonged to Mountain Parks — and walked quietly to the door. He looked through the peephole — and felt his heart knock against his breastbone.

    Kat.

    She stood on his doorstep flanked by Hunter and someone else — a man in a black leather jacket whose face he couldn’t see. He tucked the firearm into the waistband of his jeans, unlocked the door and opened it. And for a moment all he could do was stand there, staring into her eyes. She looked exhausted, overwhelmed, beautiful.

    Had she been crying?

    “Good to see you in one piece, rock jock. I see you took a hit.”

    Gabe tore his gaze from hers, gave Hunter a nod, rubbed his fingers over the bandage. “It’s just a graze. Hey, Darcangelo, how’s it going? You hang with this guy? That’s ironic.”

    Julian Darcangelo, the best damn detective Gabe had ever met, shrugged then reached out and shook Gabe’s hand, a grin spreading over his face. “What can I say? Every superhero needs a sidekick. Plus, it’s a good way to keep an eye on him, keep him out of trouble.”

    Hunter glared at Darcangelo, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “fuck you.” Then he frowned, pointing back and forth between the two of them. “So, you two know each other?”

    “Of course we know each other. We met chasing your sorry ass through the snow. Rossiter here is pure hell on a pair of skis.” Darcangelo shifted his gaze back to Gabe. “Is Kat going to be safe here with you tonight?”

    Gabe met Kat’s gaze again. “Yeah, she will. Do you boys want to come in?”

    Hunter’s gaze dropped to Kat, as if trying to gauge his response from her. “I think we’ll head home and let you two get some rest.” Then his gaze shifted to Gabe. He drew out a business card and held it out “Give me a call. Let us know what we can do.”

    “Will do.” Gabe pocketed the card, watching as Kat thanked her friends and said her good-byes. Then he took her hand and drew her inside, the two men’s voices drifting back as they headed down his front walk.

    “You didn’t tell me Kat’s rock jock was Gabe Rossiter. He’s not a rock jock, Hunter, he’s a rock god.”

    “How the hell was I supposed to know you knew him?”

    Gabe closed the door and locked out the night, while Kat hung her coat on the coat rack and slipped off her boots. They turned and faced one another, and for a moment neither of them moved or spoke, Gabe drinking in the sight of her, from the dirt smudge on her cheek to the shadows in her eyes. Then he did the only thing he could do. He drew her into his arms, and held her, just held her, his face pressed against her silky hair, the honey scent and soft feel of her a balm for all the rough edges inside him.

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