“He did what?” Rosie whisper-yelled.

Nikki nodded as she picked at her beignet. It was late Saturday morning and she was with Rosie at the Café du Monde, scarfing down the powdery pieces of perfection. The fact they’d been able to grab a table surprised both of them since the temps had cooled a little.

She’d just filled her friend in on Gabe’s surprise. “Yep. And he even had brand-new saws—a hacksaw and coping saw. I mean, he set me up in my own little shop basically.”

“That’s insane.” Rosie took a bite of a beignet, managing to not get any of the sugar on her, which meant she had to have sold her soul to the devil. “I mean, I didn’t even know you could do that stuff with wood. Why did you never tell me?”

Nikki lifted a shoulder. “I just . . . I think if I talked about it, it would make me want to get back to it, and honestly I didn’t have time in school and it . . .”

“It reminded you of Gabe?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Anyway, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

Rosie picked up her bottle of water. “Are you going to make use of it—of the tools and the shop?”

There was a flutter deep in her chest. Like a nest of butterflies were waking up. “I think so. I mean, he went to all that trouble.”

Oversized sunglasses shielded her eyes, so it was hard to tell what Rosie was thinking. “Are you going to make use of his wood?”

“Of course. He saved—wait.” Nikki picked up her napkin and threw it at her smirking friend. “It isn’t like that.”

“It’s not?”

Now those butterflies were trying to eat their way out, because she thought of the hug and the way she was sure he’d been staring at her mouth. She shifted in her chair, crossing her legs. “Shut up.”

“Seriously, though? He had a room full of spare wood?” She leaned forward, tipping her nose down. “And he didn’t know why he was saving the wood?”

“That’s what he said.” The butterflies had moved to her stomach.

“You know what I think?” She straightened. “I’m going to tell you. I think he was keeping the spare wood for you.”

The mere idea of Gabe doing that over the years shook her. If it was the case, she didn’t know what to think about that.

She couldn’t think about that.

Because her heart was already swelling to the point it might burst, and that was not a good sign.

Rosie must’ve sensed it, because she said, “You just need to be careful, Nikki.”

“I’m not reading into it.”

“No, I think you do need to read into it.”

She frowned. “I’m not really following you.”

“Look, what he did for you is not something someone who spent the last four years possibly hating you would do.”

“Wow.” She picked up her coffee. “When you put it that way.”

“What he did was a big deal. He had to know that, even if he doesn’t know why you stopped the whole woodworking thing.” Plucking up a napkin, she wiped at her fingers. “So, I think you need to read between the lines.”

Nikki took a breath that went nowhere. “I can’t let myself do that.”

“I’m saying you need to be careful. He is a grown-ass man who is very experienced and you, on the other hand, are not very experienced.”

“Thanks,” she muttered.

“And you guys have this messy past between you. It’s going to be tricky.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean, what you’re suggesting—that he could have some kind of motive beyond being friends with me—just seems insane when you said it yourself; he spent four years hating me.”

“Did you ever think that maybe he spent four years hating himself more?” A hot-pink bangle slipped down her arm as she plopped her elbow on the table. “That maybe he wanted you back then and he hated himself for it?”

Nikki opened her mouth.

“You know I have a degree in psychology, right?” Rosie tapped a purple-painted fingernail on her temple. “I know these things.”

Could Gabe have hated himself more? That was more than likely, but not for the reasons Rosie was suggesting. “I think he wanted me when it was happening, because he was drunk at the time.”

Rosie shook her head, sending curls bouncing in every direction. “All I’m saying is that I think you need to proceed with caution.”

“I’m not proceeding with anything.” She picked up what was left of her beignet. “We’re friends and I think what he did was like a . . . token of our friendship. A true white flag.”

“Well, I’m happy to hear that, because I have something for you.”

With Rosie, her surprise could be anything from a Ouija board to a voodoo doll. A used voodoo doll.

“I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Rosie—”

“He’s single. He’s got a job. Doesn’t live in a haunted house, which is a negative for me, but whatever. Not everyone can be perfect. But you don’t work for his family. He’s good looking aaand you didn’t sleep with him when you were eighteen.”

“There are a lot of people I didn’t sleep with when I was eighteen,” Nikki replied with a wry sigh.

“Yep.” She smiled widely. “And here’s the best part. He actually asked me about you.”

She started to frown. “What?”

“He saw us together at Cure, actually, and thought you were just the hottest thing since Hot Pockets.”

“Um . . .”

“I don’t know why he didn’t come over and say hi. I think he got nervous or something. And you know what else I think? I think you should go out on a date with him.”

She opened her mouth to say no, absolutely not.

Rosie beat her to it. “If you really are ready to move on with your life, the first thing to do is to get out there and meet someone who isn’t Gabe.”

Nikki thought there were a whole lot of things that she could do other than going out with some random guy. “I did have dates in college—”

“Barely.”

“And I had a boyfriend—”

“We know how that turned out,” Rosie quipped.

Nikki’s eyes narrowed, but seriously? Why was she being so resistant to a date? She’d even decided that it was time for her to get out there and go on dates. Nothing was holding her back. “You know what? Yes. I will go out on a date.”

Excitement filled her brown eyes that were more hazel in the light. “Really?”

Nikki nodded. “Set it up.”

Above their heads, something crashed into a wall—something fragile by the sound of it. Probably something expensive, too.

Gabe’s gaze lifted to the ceiling. “That sounded like a glass.”

“Or a vase,” Lucian commented.

“I hope it wasn’t a window.” Julia lowered her pool stick.

Gabe smirked. “Sabrina knows better than that.”

For the last thirty minutes or so, Sabrina had been up in Dev’s office and every so often, they heard Sabrina’s shrill voice. They couldn’t tell what they were arguing about, but they had their guesses.

This wasn’t anything new.

Most likely she was pressuring Dev about setting a date and each time she did, it ended with her throwing something when Dev refused to cave.

Walking around the pool table, Lucian came to Julia’s side. “Why don’t you head upstairs and pick out a movie for us to watch?” He hooked his arm around Julia’s shoulders, tugging her into his side. “I’ll be up in a little bit.”

Julia arched a brow, but stretched up and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Damn straight.” He smacked her ass as she pulled away, earning him a narrowed glare. “That’s me warming up.”

“Whatever,” she muttered, her face flushing as she waved goodnight to Gabe and then left the room.

Gabe leaned back, resting his arms on the bar behind him. “Smart move.”

“Hmm.” Lucian walked behind the bar and picked up several glasses. “You think Dev is going to pick a date?”

“If he did, she wouldn’t be up there throwing shit.” Gabe turned on the stool, facing his brother as he poured bourbon into the three glasses.

“Dev isn’t who she wants.”

Gabe snorted as he took his drink. “Yeah, well, not my problem.”

“Until she moves in here.” Lucian leaned against the bar. “You think she’s going to magically stop trying to jump on your dick?”

The image those words provoked curled Gabe’s lip. “She’s out of her mind if she thinks going down that road with me is going to be successful.”

Lucian tipped his glass to Gabe.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Gabe checked the app for the alarm system at his workshop. It hadn’t been turned off, which meant Nic hadn’t been there yet.

She hadn’t come to the shop since he took her there on Wednesday, but she did take the kit and a piece of wood with her when they left.

As he sat there, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass, he wondered what Nic was up to. Was she out in the Quarter? It was a Saturday night, and he doubted she was sitting at home.

Hell, what was he doing sitting at home?

He’d gotten a text earlier in the evening from one of the women he usually crossed paths with at the Red Stallion. Alyssa was always down for a good time, no strings attached. Normally, he would’ve responded—he would’ve dragged his ass down there. That would be the smart thing to do.

Except he had no interest in going to the bar.

He had no interest in seeing Alyssa.

“Have you paid any more mind to what Troy said to you about the car?” Lucian asked.

He’d paid a lot of mind to it. “We’ve all pissed off people, but for someone to know where I was and to do that? I don’t know who that could be.”

“So you think it was a kid then?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Don’t know. I just don’t think it has anything to do with Nic. She hasn’t been home in four years and who’d be pissed enough at her to do that?”

“Not you,” his brother replied smoothly.

Gabe ignored that comment.

Lucian was quiet for a moment. “You don’t think it has anything to do with the Rothchilds?”

The question jolted him. “You think they threw something through my car window?”

“Not them, but maybe someone they hired.” Lucian shrugged. “You have the potential to change their life and not in a way they’re going to like. I know it sounds crazy that they’d be involved, but we’ve seen crazier.”

It was crazy, but Lucian was also right. They’d seen crazier. “I don’t think it’s them. It would be stupid if so. I’m not being the bad guy with them. I’ve been more than reasonable.”

“That you have been, but . . .” Lucian trailed off.

He didn’t need to finish his thought. Gabe knew what he was thinking. People were truly capable of anything.

Gabe was finishing off the glass of bourbon when Dev made his grand appearance, raising both of Gabe’s brows. Dev’s normally pressed, wrinkle-free shirt was half untucked. There was a red mark along the left side of his face.

“Whoa.” Lucian slid the third untouched glass toward Dev. “Looks like you’ve had an interesting visit with Sabrina.”

Dev snorted as he picked up the glass, downing the drink in one gulp.

“Did she hit you?” Gabe asked. Sure, Sabrina had a habit of throwing stuff—usually whatever was the most expensive within grabbing distance, but hitting?

Dev lowered the glass to the bar. “Let’s just say her tantrum reached an all-new high.”

“Or low, depending on how you look at it,” Lucian suggested. “I have got to ask this. Why are you marrying her, Dev?”

Sitting on the stool next to Gabe, Dev folded his arms on the bar. “Why not?”

Gabe looked at his older brother. “That’s not exactly the best answer to give to that question.”

His brother shrugged. “Their company could be a valuable asset down the road.”

“Wow,” Gabe murmured. “And some say romance is dead.”

Lucian snickered. “We don’t need their company. We have more money than any future generations could ever hope for.”

Dev didn’t say anything as he focused on the shelves behind the bar. “The labels aren’t facing the same direction.”

Gabe followed his gaze. He was right. Some were cockeyed.

“That would be Nikki.” Dev sighed. “I’m going to have to talk to her.”

“About the bottles of whiskey not being straight?” Gabe’s shoulders tensed. “Are you fucking serious?”

Dev’s gaze slid to his. “No. But that’s a bit of a strong reaction.”

Gabe ignored that comment. “What do you want to talk to her about?”

“How she talks to Sabrina.”

Sitting back on the stool, Gabe held Dev’s stare. “And how does she talk to Sabrina that Sabrina wouldn’t be deserving of?”

“It doesn’t matter what Sabrina deserves. She’s to become my wife, and Nikki needs to respect that—respect her.”

“Kind of hard to respect someone who treats you like a servant,” Gabe fired back.

“Last I checked, that is Nikki’s job. At least for right now.” Dev motioned for Lucian to refill his drink. “Nikki might not be a permanent staff here, but when she’s here, she needs to act as such.”

“Exactly what is Sabrina bitching about?” Lucian asked, pouring the bourbon. “I’ve seen Nikki around her. She usually keeps quiet and ignores Sabrina’s incessant insults.”

“Except when she poured champagne on her,” Dev commented.

Gabe’s lips twitched. “That was an accident.”

“You and I both know that wasn’t an accident.”

“That happened weeks ago.”

Dev picked up his glass again. “Apparently Nikki made a snide comment to Sabrina’s brother about there not being a date for the wedding. This upset Sabrina, which led to her little meltdown tonight.”

Gabe’s eyes narrowed. When would Nic have seen Parker? He’d thought back to Wednesday. Parker had been here, and Nic had been awfully quiet in the car ride to the workshop.

“I’ll talk to Nic,” Gabe said.

“Is that so?” murmured Dev.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Lucian chimed in. “Better than you talking to her.”

“And why is that?” Dev asked.

“Because you’re an asshole,” Lucian replied, grinning. “And Nikki stepped in to help her mom—who has cancer. The last thing that girl needs is you lecturing her on how to speak to her ‘betters.’”

“The last thing she needs is you speaking to her at all.” Gabe folded his arms. “I’ll make sure she stays away from both Sabrina and Parker. I’ll handle her.”

Dev’s lips curled in a semblance of a smile around the rim of his glass. “You know what I think, Gabe?”

“Can’t wait to hear this.”

He took a sip and then looked at him. “I think the last thing you need is to be handling Nikki in any sense of the word.”