His twin was a dead woman.

Grey stiffened at the sight before him and did his damnedest not to salivate.

Not. My. Type.

Even if the man was half-naked, full of gorgeous muscles, and standing in the archway that led to the bedrooms in Grey’s cabin. The tattoo of a rearing mustang on the man’s left pec gave away who sent him here. Only his sister Kelsie would think this kind of rough-looking guy was for Grey. Well, his sister, and maybe his best friend John too. In moments like this one, Grey cursed the week a couple of summers ago that his sister and best friend finally hooked up and admitted to each other they were in love. To think Grey had provided the cabin that allowed it to happen. This cabin.

Kelsie was so, so dead.

Grey never should have told her he planned on driving to the cabin.

From across the living room, the stranger clutched the towel at his waist and started stalking in Grey’s direction. “Who the hell are you?” the guy growled. Dark, wet hair lay plastered to his forehead, and his flesh glistened with moisture. Heat from his body mingled with the frigid air breezing in through the open door at Grey’s back, creating a shimmer of steam around the man’s skin. “Get the hell out of this cabin right now.”

That got Grey out of his paralysis and standing upright, going toe-to-toe with a hulk of a man who had to be at least six-feet-four. “Excuse me,” Grey would have bumped the guy’s chest to get him out of his personal space, but guessed the giant of a man wouldn’t even budge under the shove, “but this is my goddamned cabin, and you’re the one trespassing on my property. So go pick your clothes up off the floor, or wherever the hell they are, and get the fuck out of here before I call the authorities.”

“Oh.” His head tilting, the guy took a step back, and much of the rigidity left his stance. “You’re Grey? Kelsie’s brother?”

Grey took a breath and resisted the urge to grit his teeth. Of course the guy knew his sister. “Yes.” Everything on the outside settled and calmed. “I am.”

“No offense,” the man scratched the stubble on his hard--fucking sexy--jaw, “but can I see some ID?”

One, two, three, four, five, calm, calm, calm ... stay calm. “Yes.” Grey slid his wallet out of his back pocket. “Fine.” Producing his North Carolina driver’s license, he handed it to the big man. “There you go. One Greyson Cole. See the picture? That’s me. Would you like me to produce a phone number so we can call my sister and confirm it? Or can you deign to tell me what the hell you’re doing in my cabin, now that you know it’s mine?”

“Sirus Wilder.” The man stuck his hand out, the appendage yet more big and rough stuff. “I own the cabin across the lake. I had a pipe leak in my bathroom three days ago.” Sirus grimaced. “The shower tile and wall is going to have to be broken through in order to fix it, and the floor in the bathroom is going to have to be replaced. There’s only one guy I trust to do it, and he can’t clear enough time for a few more days. Anyway, with the valves to the house shut off, I don’t have any water. I called Kelsie, and she sent me her key for your cabin. She told me I was good to stay here so that I have a toilet and shower, until mine is repaired.”

Okay, so not exactly a setup after all. Grey ignored the sense of deflation that sighed through him as he accepted this man didn’t bat for his team. Didn’t matter. Stunning, defined muscles and a thick head of dark hair notwithstanding, everything about Sirus Wilder screamed that he wasn’t Grey’s type. Even if--Jesus Christ--he did have the most insanely wide chest, with a line of hair that trailed down his tight-as-hell stomach, where it disappeared under the towel. Grey’s towel. Shit.

Grey shifted his stance to cover the twitch from his cock. Geez, he’d been celibate for too long.

Not. My. Type.

Sirus cleared his throat, startling Grey into tearing his gaze off the man’s thick chest and quarter-sized, copper-colored nipples.

“Sorry,” Grey covered quickly, “I was just wondering if you were ever going to give me back my license.” He held out his hand.

“Right.” Red slashes cut through the guy’s pronounced cheekbones. “Sorry.” Sirus handed over the ID and backed up. “Let me go throw my clothes on and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Grey paced the length of the cabin while he waited for Sirus to return. Fully clothed this time. Please, God. After the disaster of his last relationship, Grey reminded himself that he had sworn off men for good. Since women didn’t crank his carburetor, he had gotten very acquainted with his left hand over the last three years. Damn though, he missed sliding into a man’s tight ass and fucking until he could barely move.

“Okay, sorry again about the mix-up.” Sirus emerged fully clothed, with a black bag slung over his shoulder--a very wide shoulder, covered in midnight blue flannel now. Shit. Grey wasn’t into guys who wore faded jeans, work boots and flannel. “Your sister must not have known you were going to be using the cabin,” Sirus added.

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Grey muttered under his breath.

Sirus glanced up, the slate in his eyes deepening to smoke. “What?”

Swallowing past the sudden thickness in his throat, Grey rubbed his chest, smoothing the black leather jacket covering his suit and tie. “Nothing. Just mumbling to myself.”

“If you say so.” Sirus tossed his duffel on the couch and moved to grab a coat off a hook by the front door. When Sirus shrugged into a camel-colored, suede, Shearling lined jacket, Grey almost came in his dress slacks. The guy was just so damn big. Grey didn’t go for big. At least, not bigger than himself. He had no interest in someone overpowering him, in bed or out.

Turning his gaze down, the only way to stop staring, Grey moved out of the line to the front door, watching discreetly as Sirus made his way across the floor.

“So,” Sirus paused at the threshold, “thanks for the use of your cabin for a few days, even if you didn’t know about it. Your sister raves about you, so it was good to finally meet you. If you need anything while you’re here, I’m right across the water. Have a good one.”

No, no, don’t do it. He’s a big boy and can take care of himself. “Do you need to stay here a few more nights?” Grey’s fists clenched at his sides, even as he made the offer. Damn the man for mentioning Kelsie. “You would know by now there are two bedrooms. I don’t need both. There’s plenty enough room to share for a short while.”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

“You said you don’t have water.” Grey made the words sound like a curse. A flash of taking a bath in an aboveground pool rocked a small shudder through him; early memories from childhood he would rather not remember. “It’s really not a problem.” Years of negotiating with people who could buy and sell him ten times over brought Grey’s gaze up from the floor and onto a man he wanted out of his cabin more than just about anything in the world. Dark slate eyes connected with his, and Grey stuffed down the immediate desire to retract his offer. “Any friend of Kelsie’s is welcome here. You can use the second room until your cabin is repaired.”

“Thank you.” Sirus stepped back inside, and Grey’s heart sank. “I appreciate the kindness.”

“No problem.” Big problem. Why couldn’t this man be one of those people who protested a kindness until the other person gave up? He wasn’t supposed to say yes. “Go ahead and get yourself settled back in,” Grey offered anyway, “and we’ll just work around each other for a few days until you can go back home.”

“Okay.” Sirus moved across the floor, his body something of incredible fluid grace for such a big man. He paused, right back where he started, and Grey slipped back those few minutes to the guy in a towel and nothing else. Damn it, Grey had gone too long without seeing a naked man in person. That had to be it. He didn’t like thickly muscled men. He preferred sleekly sculpted and streamlined, maybe a few inches shorter than his own six feet of height.

What in the hell had he been thinking, inviting a person he didn’t even know, into his home? It was more than stupid, it was downright risky. Grey took a step back, and then another, until he bumped up against the door. He wanted to tell Sirus to get out, but he couldn’t. Not now. Jesus, Grey didn’t know what the fuck to do.

Live with it.

This had disaster written all over it.

Shit.

Chapter One

Sirus Wilder stood inside the cabin, silently cursing and calling himself ten kinds of foolish for agreeing to stay after getting a look at Greyson Cole. Kelsie never said her brother was so damned gorgeous. Six feet of stunning, perfectly sinewy body, thick brown hair, sun-kissed skin, and the most piercing hazel eyes with flecks of amber Sirus had ever seen.

Of course, why would Kelsie mention her brother’s near physical perfection? It wasn’t as if Grey enjoyed bending over for a stiff dick, had wet dreams about a mouth full of thick cock, or had fantasies of coming like a geyser all over another man’s body.

Sirus imagined himself standing naked and Grey moving to him, sinking to his knees...

No. Not again. Sirus was not in the market for a relationship, and he did not do casual sex. Not that it mattered. Buttoned-up, neat, and trimmed-out on all corners, nothing about Kelsie’s brother spoke of hot, raunchy animal sex--gay or straight. This guy probably put a double-thick towel under his woman in bed so the sheets didn’t get messy. Hell, in Sirus’s mind, one of the best things about losing control was seeing all the damage done in the aftermath. Falling over into that wet spot, knowing he drew that reaction out of his partner was pure bliss to Sirus.

At least, it used to be. Not anymore.

No more lusting after straight guys.

No more convincing himself lust was love.

A heavy ache twisted Sirus’s chest, but he quickly berated himself for letting his mind drift to Paul, his previous partner, and snapped himself back into the present. The first thing that registered in his brain was Greyson Cole edging his way outside.

“Oh, hey,” Sirus dropped his bag on the floor, “do you need some help bringing anything inside?”

“What?” Grey paused, whipping his head up from where he stood outside the door. He glanced at Sirus, barely made eye contact, and then looked away, making Sirus wonder if he had the word “murderer” etched into his forehead.

“Help?” Sirus prompted. “Do you need some help bringing stuff in from your car?”

“Oh, no, that’s all right. I have it.” Grey buttoned up his leather jacket, a garment that wouldn’t do a damn bit of good keeping him warm this high in the mountains at this time of year. “Thanks for the offer though. Umm, yeah, you do your thing and I’ll do mine.” Grey pointed in the general direction of the steps leading to the dirt path. “I’ll be right back.”

Sirus watched from a dozen feet away as Grey straightened, made a very precise turn, and moved down the stairs at an even pace. If Sirus didn’t know any better, he would say the dude had a broomstick shoved all the way up his ass, right into his spine.

Well, hell. He could already tell Greyson Cole would be tons of fun.

Wonderful.

* * * *

Grey stayed hidden in his room for as long as he could. He took his time unpacking his bags, not seeing any point in living out of a suitcase and garment bag when he planned to be here for two weeks, at least.

Truth was, Grey was damned tempted to take up residence in the mountain cabin. An epidemic of romance had broken out all around him down in Raleigh, going all the way back to when he’d made the decision to become celibate. He had reached a breaking point for other people’s happiness when Kelsie and John told him they were expecting their first child, due in June. It wasn’t that Grey wasn’t thrilled for them; God knew it took them long enough to get together, and they were clearly meant for each other. But the thought of knowing he would only ever be “Uncle Grey” had him announcing he needed some time away from the business and that he planned to go out of town. Seeing the hurt in his sister’s hazel eyes, so much a mirror of his own, almost had Grey relenting. Later that day one of his employees burst into the offices and announced her engagement. Grey made a quick phone call to his sister, told her he would stay in phone contact, and went home to pack his bags.

That was yesterday. Valentine’s Day, for Christ’s sake. How lovely this cabin had looked in Grey’s mind, yesterday.

Today, he had a sexy-as-hell stranger sharing his one place of solitude, and sleeping with only one wall between them. Fuck. Grey wondered if Sirus slept in the nude. He just knew the man would radiate heat like a furnace and feel amazing to curl up against on a cold night. He bet Sirus would spoon a partner and blanket her with his big frame, probably wake up nuzzling against the fine hairs on the back of a person’s neck too.

Oh, no, no, no. Grey did not like that kind of shit. It was great in a movie or a book, but in reality, a person needed his or her own space to breathe freely. It seemed in his real life all too often, though, other men ridiculously tried to bare their soul on the first date, and became clingy and needy by the third. Grey shuddered just thinking about it. He couldn’t imagine ever revealing his most personal secrets and fears, yet other people gave their own away like candy on Halloween. He didn’t understand it one damn bit. And he was sick of dates or boyfriends trying to make him feel guilty or manipulate him into cutting open a vein just so they could watch him bleed. Grey wouldn’t ever spill his guts for a partner. If that was what was required to go out on more than one date with a person these days, Grey went ahead and decided he didn’t need to do it anymore. One-night stands didn’t really suit him either, so that left a lot of yanking the one-eyed bandit on his own. There were worse things in the world.

A soft tap sounded at the door. “Grey?” Sirus’s rich voice carried through the wood. “Are you hungry? I made dinner. There’s more than enough for two.”

Speaking of worse things... Grey could not get the visual of the almost-savage planes of Sirus’s face out of his mind, most compelling of which were those deep slate eyes. The guy was built of steely muscle, but his eyes said he didn’t spend all of his time thinking about his body and working out in a gym. Intelligence. That was a thousand times more dangerous than the perfection of Sirus Wilder’s physique.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Grey slumped and closed his eyes. “I’ll be right there.” He scrubbed the tiredness from his face. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Heavy shoes creaked the wood of the hardwood floor, telling Grey that Sirus had walked away. Taking a moment to remind himself that no business deal--or man--had bested him yet, Grey took a breath, gave himself a speech to be strong, and joined his temporary cabin mate for a meal.

* * * *

Sirus fiddled with the last few bites of his chicken and steamed vegetables. Thick silence sat heavy in the air, and from across the small table, Grey did a lot of staring at his now empty plate. No one had ever called Sirus a motor-mouth, but he could usually carry on a decent conversation, even with someone he didn’t really know. This man, however, left him feeling tongue-tied. Sirus fucking didn’t understand it.

Not giving himself any more time to think, Sirus blurted out, “Can I ask you a dumb question?”

Grey’s focus snapped up from his plate, meeting Sirus’s gaze. “Sure.” His lips thinned and his jaw clenched. “Although now I’ll feel like a fool if I can’t answer it.”

Grey didn’t crack a smile as he made that comment, but Sirus did. “I’m gonna guess you rarely--if ever--have to worry about looking foolish.”

“I like to be prepared,” Grey answered. “That’s just good business.”

Sirus would bet money Greyson Cole made that his motto in every aspect of his life. Even sitting here at dinner, on vacation, his jeans and button-down shirt looked tailor-made for him. Shit. They probably were.

Taking a swig of his tea, Grey spoke from behind the rim of his glass. “What did you want to ask me?”

Sirus tried to hide his smile. “Actually, my question is about your business.”

The rigidity in Grey didn’t loosen one bit. “Then other than my partner, there isn’t anyone more qualified to answer than me. Shoot.”

So no joking or small talk. Check. “Well, I’ve met John on a couple of occasions now, and he has mentioned that you guys own a venture capitalist firm.” His face heating, Sirus added, “I was just wondering exactly what that means. What is it you and John do?” He quickly held up a hand. “The stripped-down version will do fine.”

“Stripped-down?” The tone of Grey’s voice made it sound as if Sirus had insulted him. “Okay. Well, let’s say you have a big idea, or even just a really good but maybe radical idea. You need help getting it past phase one, launching it into something big. You need capital, maybe more than a bank will give you based on just having a big concept. You come to us, you make a pitch, and if we think you have a good head on your shoulders and everything it takes to make your dream a success, except the money, then with investors John and I court, we’ll get you the money and aid you in the steps to creating a profitable business. We’ve been very successful at reading people and knowing which risks to take. When the profits start rolling in, we reap some of that reward, as do the investors. Eventually most of the business owners buy our percentage out and go on to be very successful on their own, but some stay with us, whether because they feel they need the support we offer, or they know they want to keep growing and will need more money down the line. That’s what I do.” Grey finally did smile, and it was wry ... and downright sexy. “The stripped-down version.”

Sirus had the grace to blush. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all right.” Grey pushed back in his chair and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle. “What do you do?”

“I drive a truck.” Sirus resisted the gut-level urge to apologize for his blue-collar existence. “Not nearly so glamorous as what you and John do, but I like it. I’ve been able to see a lot of the country through driving, and I own my own rig so I make my own hours. There isn’t anybody I have to report to, so I can come and go as I please and live on as much or little money as suits me. In fact, I found my cabin by meeting someone while on one of my routes. I came through these mountains a couple towns over, broke down, and had to spend a few nights with the locals. I met the woman who owned all four of these cabins before she ever put them on the market. We were talking about what we do over some burgers and fries. When she said she owned a handful of cabins on the four corners of a lake, I said, ‘If you ever want to sell one, give me a call.’ She laughed and told me she was getting them ready for sale. She brought me right up to look at them the next day, and I bought the one across from this one. I saw the water and these mountains and knew I’d come home.”

“Where are you from originally?”

“Grew up in DC. Most of my family still lives there.”

Grey settled in and crossed his arms against his chest. “Big family?”

“Big enough.” Sirus smiled, but at the same time, his chest squeezed with old wounds. Better not to think about that. You can’t change her. The smile stiffened on his lips, but he forced it to remain there. “Mom and Dad, four brothers, and one sister.”

“Where did you go to school?”

“Didn’t.” Trying to fight it, Sirus couldn’t stamp down the knee-jerk reaction to justify his lack of structured education. “I did fairly well in high school, but I always felt confined, like I couldn’t breathe. College didn’t feel right for me, so I didn’t go.”

“I assume since you’re the only one here that you’re not married and don’t have a wife stranded back at your cabin without water.”

Sirus quirked his head to the side and studied Grey a little more intently. “Nope. Not married.”

“Ever been?” Grey asked, barely letting a pause exist between a response and his next question. “Are you divorced?”

“Never been married.”

“How about engaged?”

“Not even engaged.” Sirus crossed his arms against his chest and drilled the man with an unwavering stare. “Would you like to know my political affiliation next? Maybe how much I paid for my cabin? Or perhaps whether or not I claim a particular religion?” Grey sat across from Sirus and didn’t so much as flinch at the dryness in Sirus’s tone, let alone show a reaction on his face. “How many questions do you get before I get to ask another of you?”

Grey raised a brow, but other than that didn’t respond.

Suddenly needing to move, feeling like this man could see straight through his clothes right into his soul, Sirus grabbed his plate and stood. He moved to the sink but paused before turning on the water. He looked over his shoulder back to the table where Grey still sat. “Are you trying to figure out if I’m going to fleece you in the dead of night while you sleep? What exactly are you hoping to find out about me with all those questions, Grey?”

Greyson Cole’s poker face remained firmly in place. “Just trying to make conversation.”

“Now why don’t I believe that?”

Grey got up and moved to the sink to rinse his plate too. Standing so close, the guy somehow exuded dominating cool--while at the same time made it hard for Sirus to find his breath. “You don’t have to believe it.” Grey’s voice reeked of quiet command. “I don’t owe you anything else.”

Gritting his teeth, Sirus responded, “Ditto.”

The air in the room charged with electricity, creating tension Sirus could feel like a touch against his flesh.

Still standing so very close, Grey somehow managed to get the water running, rinse his plate and put it in the dishwasher, without ever giving up his position. “So then we understand each other,” he finally said. “Good.” With that, he walked away, leaving Sirus standing in the kitchen alone, stunned, and confused.