Page 106 of Marked

The cool night air hit me as we left the restaurant. Marcus guided me to his Bentley with a steadying hand on my lower back, and I couldn’t help but lean into his touch. The coastal road stretched dark before us, moonlight silvering the waves far below. As we pulled away, I watched the cliffs disappear, the ocean a vast expanse of midnight blue dotted with starlight.

“Someone’s feeling good,” Caleb teased as I finally gave in and curled against his solid warmth in the back seat.

“Mmm, your fault,” I mumbled into Caleb’s chest, breathing in his woodsy scent. “You and your fancy wine.”

“Lightweight.” Derek chuckled, but his voice held a note of strain. When he turned to look at me, his eyes seemed to gleam in the darkness.

“Hey, some of us can’t all be…” I nuzzled deeper, feeling Caleb’s sharp intake of breath. “…whatever you three are.”

“Comfortable?” Caleb murmured, his fingers threading through my hair in a way that made my eyes flutter shut.

“Perfect.” I sighed, feeling utterly content. “You make an excellent pillow.”

His quiet laugh rumbled through me, but his arm tightened possessively. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel Derek’s gaze burning into me from the front seat, could sense Marcus watching in the rearview mirror. The air in the car felt charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.

Caleb’s lips brushed my temple, so light I might have imagined it if not for the way Derek’s breath caught. I felt Derek’s hand reach back, his fingers ghosting along my cheek in a touch that seemed almost reverent.

“Our baby’s sleepy,” Caleb whispered, though the roughness in his voice suggested he was affected by more than just my drowsy cuddles.

“Not sleepy,” I protested weakly, even as I burrowed closer. “Just… comfortable.”

The drive passed in a haze of gentle touches and heated glances. When we finally pulled up to the cottage, something in my chest tightened painfully at the thought of them leaving. The idea of being alone suddenly felt wrong in a way I couldn’t explain, like trying to breathe underwater.

“Coffee?” I blurted out before they could say good night. “That machine you got me came with about fifty recipes I haven’t tried yet. Seems a shame to waste all those fancy settings.”

The brothers exchanged one of their looks. Marcus’ knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, while Derek’s shoulders tensed visibly.

“Baby,” Caleb started, his voice strained, “that might not be wise…”

“Please?” I looked up at him, channeling my best innocent expression. “I’ve gotten pretty good at the whole barista thing. Though I still think any machine that needs its own instruction manual is overkill.”

Another silent conversation passed between them before Marcus nodded slowly. “One coffee.”

Scout bounded to the door as we entered. His usual exuberance seemed tempered tonight, those intelligent eyes darting between his master and me with unusual intensity.

Inside, the cottage felt different with them there—not smaller like it should with three giant men filling the space, but more complete somehow. Like they belonged here, lounging in my living room while I played host.

The coffee maker—a chrome and glass masterpiece—hummed to life under my fingers. I’d never admit it to Marcus, but I actually loved the thing. It made coffee that tasted like liquid gold, and the fact that it reminded me of him every morning was just a bonus I’d never acknowledge out loud.

I arranged the steaming mugs on a serving tray, trying to steady my shaking hands. When I turned around, the atmosphere shifted. The brothers were watching me with an intensity that made my pulse jump—Marcus settled regally in my reading chair, Derek leaning against the wall with deceptive casualness, and Caleb sprawled on the couch in a way that somehow managed to be both inviting and dangerous.

“Hope you like it strong,” I said, distributing the mugs. My fingers brushed Caleb’s as I handed him his coffee, sending sparks racing up my arm. I settled beside him on the couch, closer than I’d intended, but I couldn’t make myself move away. His thigh pressed warm against mine, and I leaned slightly into his solid warmth.

Scout lay at our feet, his chin resting on his paws, watching the scene unfold with those too-intelligent eyes.

The silence stretched, broken only by the quiet sips of coffee and the crackle of… something so thick I could barely breathe. Marcus’ gaze never left me as he lifted his mug to his lips. Derek’s presence seemed to fill the entire wall he leaned against. And Caleb… God, Caleb’s proximity was doing things to my ability to think straight.

I took another sip of coffee, desperately trying to focus on anything except how right this felt—the four of us in my space, like puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.

“So,” I finally broke the charged silence. “Ever wonder what you’d be doing if you lived somewhere else? Like New York or LA?”

Derek shifted against the wall, moonlight catching the predatory gleam in his eyes. “And leave Cedar Grove?”

A silent conversation seemed to pass between the brothers. Honestly, they should patent that look—they’d make a fortune in the telepathic communication business.

“Just imagine it, though,” I continued, emboldened by their reactions and maybe the lingering effects of that ridiculously expensive wine. I let my fingers trail along Caleb’s collar, feeling his pulse jump beneath my touch. “Marcus running some Fortune 500 company on Wall Street…”

“Is that so?” Marcus’ voice held an edge that made heat pool in my stomach as he put his own mug down. In fact, none of them were drinking their coffee anymore. His eyes, usually iceblue, now burned with an intensity that should have come with a warning label.

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