Nikki’s eyes flew open, and she immediately wished they hadn’t, because now she saw him.

It had been forever since she even allowed herself to look at a photo of him. Maybe she should’ve done that, because then she might not simultaneously feel like jumping on him like a rabid monkey and running away from this room.

She couldn’t look away from him.

God, Gabe was . . . he was beautiful in this raw, masculine way. He was as she remembered, but somehow he was more. If anything, he seemed taller and his shoulders broader, his biceps and forearms defined in a way they hadn’t been before.

Age had treated him well. Gabe was thirty-two now, and the only sign was the faint smile lines around the corners of those stunning sea-moss eyes. His cheekbones were classic de Vincent, high and angular as was the blade of the nose and that lush, lush mouth.

Oh man, he was still wearing his hair long. The deep brown, almost black hair just brushed his shoulders. A faint stubble shadowed the strong curve of his jaw as if he hadn’t shaved in a day or two. He was dressed much more casually than his brother, wearing a dark pair of jeans and a pale-blue cotton shirt that was loosely tucked in the front. And he was barefoot.

Her lips twitched into a small smile.

Gabe was always barefoot.

“Nic?” He stepped around a chair, staring at her like . . . well, like he wasn’t even sure it was really her.

While Gabe mostly looked the same, Nikki had changed in the last four years. Gone was the eighteen-year-old girl who’d fled from him in tears.

He stopped a few feet from her, still staring at her like she was a figment of his imagination. His gaze swept from the now-messy knot of hair at the top of her head, all the way down to her llama-print Vans. The way he checked her out was nothing like his brother’s earlier perusal. Not when she could practically feel his gaze getting hung up on her now-much-rounder hips and fuller breasts. A sweet, unwanted, and unexpected flush swept through her.

Bad Nikki. Bad. Bad.

He could stare at her in the way she’d always wanted him and it meant nothing now. All he was to her now was a silly teenage crush. That was all.

So she had to pull it together.

She lifted an empty hand and gave an awkward finger wave once his eyes met hers again. “Hey.”

“Hey?” he repeated, blinking slowly and showing off ridiculously long lashes.

Nikki swallowed hard and tried again. “Hi?”

Beside her, Devlin sighed loudly.

“Is something wrong?” Gabe’s gaze bounced between his brother and her. “Did something happen to Livie?”

Nikki slowly turned to Devlin. He hadn’t told Gabe? What in the hell? “I’m filling in for Mom while she’s getting treatment. You didn’t . . . ?”

It was obvious in the way Gabe stared at her that he had no idea, and Nikki had no clue why Devlin would’ve left him out on that pretty important update.

“No.” Gabe’s tone was short. “I wasn’t told.”

This was beyond awkward. She peeked at Gabe. Unease stirred in the pit of her stomach as she quickly looked away. He was still staring at her.

“I believe that Nikki has a lot of work to get done,” Devlin interjected smoothly.

Grasping onto the cue to make her exit like it was the last life jacket on the Titanic, she got her legs moving and kept her gaze fixed on the doorway. But as she walked past him, she couldn’t help herself. It was like she had no control over her eyeballs.

Nikki glanced over at him, and found that he was still watching. She wasn’t even sure he’d blinked at this point. “It’s good seeing you, Gabe.”

There.

She said it and sounded like she meant it, even though it wasn’t exactly true.

There were only two times in Gabe’s thirty-two years of life that a damn feather could’ve knocked him flat on his ass.

This was one of them.

Gabe still stared at the doorway Nic had walked out of, completely and utterly shocked. “Was that really her?”

Dev made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a cough. “Little Nikki isn’t so little anymore, is she?”

Little Nikki hadn’t exactly been little the last time he’d seen her, but she hadn’t looked like that.

Holy shit, she didn’t have that ass or those tits the last time he’d seen her.

What the fuck? Did he seriously just think that?

Disgust churned in his gut. He would not—could not think of her tits or ass. Even acknowledge that she now had them aplenty based on how that shirt was stretched across her chest and how those jeans hugged her—

Damn it.

Didn’t matter that she was now in her twenties—barely in her twenties.

But shit, Nic had always been a cute girl. A scrawny and goofy-as-hell cute girl, but she was . . . she was now fucking beautiful.

He almost laughed.

The whole late-bloomer thing whirled around in his head, but it was true. Her face had filled out during her absence, finally matching those big brown eyes and that wide, expressive mouth.

She’d gone from cute to dangerously stunning.

Gabe couldn’t believe she was here. He forced himself to turn to his brother. “Were we unable to hire someone else?”

Because anyone would’ve been a better choice.

Dev arched a brow as he folded his arms. “As you know, we’ve had a problem retaining staff recently.”

That they did.

“And with what has happened here, I couldn’t help but accept when Richard brought up the idea of bringing Nikki in to fill her mother’s spot. She was already coming home. Plus, she knows how to mind her own business and keep quiet.”

Gabe’s jaw tightened. Nic definitely knew how to keep quiet. Lifting a hand, he dragged it through his hair. What in the hell? He honestly had no clue how to proceed with this newest development. Like he needed another damn issue in his life right now.

He’d honestly believed he was never going to see Nic again, at least not up close. Maybe from a distance, because distances were safe.

Shit.

How old was she now?

He quickly did the math in his head. Twenty-two. Her birthday was coming up. November. She’d be twenty-three then. Fuck. What he remembered of twenty-three was a whole lot of partying and screwing. That was a lifetime ago.

The stupidest question surfaced. Did she still make little bracelets and necklaces out of wood? He’d hoped so. The girl had a natural talent.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Dev asked softly.

He frowned, dropping his hand. “No. Why would it be?”

“Good question.”

His gaze narrowed on his older brother. There was no way Dev knew. Dev hadn’t even been home that messed-up weekend, four years ago, when Gabe made the second-biggest damn mistake of his life.

But his brother missed very little.

“You had such a strange, strong reaction to seeing her,” Dev pointed out.

“I was caught off guard.” That was the damn truth. “Wasn’t expecting to see her here. Shit. I thought something happened to Livie.”

Dev watched him quietly for a moment. “I thought you weren’t coming back until Thursday.”

“That was the plan.” Gabe sighed, looking at the doorway again. Hell. “But I decided to cut the trip short.”

“Things aren’t going our way in Baton Rouge?”

Gabe shook his head. As messed up as it was—and God, it was fucking messed up—he wasn’t even thinking about his trip to Baton Rouge now. His mind was nowhere near that place after seeing Nic. “Can’t blame them for it. They did me a favor by calling me in the first place, but they aren’t just going to let me waltz in there after five years.”

“We can make them.”

Gabe’s gaze sharpened. “Hell, no. You’re not stepping in on this, Dev. This is my life. This is my shit to deal with. It has nothing to do with the family.”

“It has everything to do with our family. William is—”

“Don’t.” Gabe met Dev’s gaze as his chest turned cold. “I am handling this the best way I see fit, Devlin. It does not involve you.”

A muscle flexed along Dev’s jaw, a rare show of emotion and for a moment, Gabe didn’t think he was going to let it drop. “Which reminds me,” he said. “As I was leaving Baton Rouge, I ran into Ross Haid.”

A mere glimpse of annoyance flickered across Dev’s face. “Let me guess. He wanted to talk about . . . Father?”

“And the police chief. And why we’re having problems hiring staff.”

“Of course,” Dev murmured. “He’s becoming quite annoying, which means he needs—”

“To be ignored,” Gabe said, holding his brother’s gaze. “He needs to just be ignored. Eventually he’ll move onto something else, Dev. That is all we’re going to do.”

“That’s exactly what I was going to say.” A faint smile tipped the corners of his lips, and Gabe was ready to call bullshit on that. “By the way, Sabrina is coming over for dinner tonight.”

Jesus.

Could this day get any more twisted?

Well, he knew he wouldn’t be having dinner here then, because being on a different planet wasn’t a far enough distance between him and Dev’s fiancée. Wait. Something occurred to him. “Will Nic be serving the dinner?”

“Since we don’t have the staff, she will be assuming Mrs. Besson’s duties fully.”

And that meant she’d be serving dinner—serving Sabrina.

Fuck.

Standing in front of the large oven with her hands planted on the window, Nikki peered inside. Her stomach rumbled. The ham and cheese sandwich she’d made for herself before the awkward-to-end-all-awkward conversations with Devlin did nothing to stave off her overeager stomach. Her tiny lunch had been hours ago.

The chicken smelled amazing, like herbs and butter and home-cooked meals. And from what she could see, the skin was crisping perfectly.

God, it made her hungry.

It also reminded her of all the afternoons sitting on one of the nearby stools, watching her mom cook for the de Vincents. Granted, the stools were newer now, a sleek gray design with thick cushions, but being in this kitchen, in this home, made her feel like a kid again.

Nikki was a damn good cook if she said so herself and she had her momma to thank for that. She actually loved cooking, something she never got to do at her dorm room in Tuscaloosa or the small apartment she’d lived in her senior year. So when she did come home for the holidays, she loved getting in the kitchen with her mom and making stuffing, pies, and more.

Except this kitchen was nothing like the kitchen at home. This kitchen was nearly the same size of the entire downstairs of her parents’ house.

She rested her nose against the warm window. Who needed a kitchen this big? The de Vincents. That’s who. Hell, the entire home was ginormous. Three levels and two wings veering off from the main part; there were more bedrooms than Nikki could count and more rooms than anyone would ever have use for.

The de Vincent compound had been remodeled and rebuilt over and over, but it mirrored the style of the days that parts of the South still desperately clutched on to. Each level was accessible from the porches that circled the entire property, and she knew the brothers all had their private quarters and entrances, and they were basically apartments. Those quarters had living rooms, kitchens, bedrooms, and bathrooms. Hell, their private rooms were, in fact, bigger than most apartments.

According to her father, Gabe and Dev were in the right wing and Lucian and his girlfriend were in the left wing of the house.

All the other bedrooms in between were empty, as was their mother’s room and their father’s. They had separate rooms, and she guessed none of the brothers wanted to take over those rooms.

Luckily, the cleaning of their rooms was something that only occurred once a week and that wouldn’t be happening until Friday. She was so not looking forward to going into Gabe’s apartment.

The last time she’d been in there, she been clutching this necklace she’d made for him, and . . .

Nikki flushed and cringed at once.

Her mind went back to the awkward reunion. Gabe had stared at her like . . . God, she wasn’t even sure. But it wasn’t good. Not at all and she couldn’t—

“What are you doing?”

Squeaking, she jumped back from the oven and whipped around. Her heart lodged in her throat.

Gabe stood just inside the kitchen.

“What is it with you guys creeping up on people and making no noise?” she demanded, placing a hand to her pounding heart. “God.”

His lips twitched like he was almost going to smile, but then thought better of it. “I wasn’t exactly quiet.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Maybe because it looked like you were trying to stick your head in the oven.”

Her cheeks flushed. “The door was closed, so that wouldn’t have been a very successful attempt.”

“No, it wouldn’t be.”

Nikki drew in a stuttered breath that went nowhere when her gaze collided with his. Silence followed. He didn’t speak. Neither did she. They just stood there, staring at one another. He didn’t look exactly hostile, but he didn’t appear warm and fuzzy either.

Her shoulders tensed as the silence continued to grow.

“Dinner smells good,” Gabe said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Roasted chicken?”

She jolted. “Um, yes.” She turned to the counter, where she’d just finished peeling potatoes. “And potatoes. I’m also making a salad. There’ll be biscuits . . . with butter.”

There’ll be biscuits . . . with butter?

It took everything for Nikki not to roll her eyes at herself.

He moved forward, maybe a foot or two, but stopped like one would if they were approaching a rabid dog. A heartbeat passed. “Your hair . . .” He tilted his head to the side. “It’s different.”

“Yeah, it is.” Her hair used to be a rather dull medium brown, but then she found this amazing hair stylist in Tuscaloosa and turned her brown hair into this array of blondes and browns, using some weird technique called balayage. “It’s basically just highlights and stuff.”

“Stuff.” His gaze flickered over the bun.

Uncomfortable, she scanned the kitchen. “And my hair is longer. A lot longer.”

His brows lifted.

Was she really telling him the length of her hair? This was the most strained conversation she’d ever had in her life. And that was, well, it was sad. She peeked at him. It used to not be this way. Back before . . . well, before she ruined everything, he’d be teasing her and asking about her college. He’d be talking to her like he could actually stand being in the same room with her.

She needed this conversation to be over like it was yesterday and she also needed to figure out how she could work here and not run into Gabe. The house was big enough that it should be possible. “I need to get back to—”

“Planting your face against the oven door?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Actually, I need to finish the potatoes. So, if you’ll excuse me.” She started to turn away, praying that he’d just leave.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me? Because I have a lot I need to say to you,” he said. “Never in a million years did I think I’d see you here again.”

Nikki’s spine stiffened like steel had been poured into it. Oh God. Her throat spasmed.

“We need to talk.”

“No we don’t,” she said quickly. “We do not need to talk about anything.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped, and his voice was so much closer that she turned to him on instinct.

Gabe was now at the edge of the massive island, only two or three feet from her. She stepped back into the counter. Her heart thundered in her chest as her gaze flicked to the kitchen door.

“No one is coming near here,” he said as if reading her mind. Her gaze flew back to his. “Dev is in his office on the second floor in a meeting and your father is out with the landscaper. No one is going to hear us.”

A weird mixture of sensations assaulted her. One was a chill that skated down her spine. The other was a tight, hot shiver that danced over her skin.

Gabe kept coming at her, not stopping until he was right in front of her, separated by a few inches. She sucked in air, catching the crisp, clean scent of his cologne. It reminded her of storms, of that night.

That was the last thing she wanted to be reminded of.

Like his brother, he was a good head and then some taller than her, so right now, her eyes were fastened to his chest. Thank God he was wearing a shirt.

“I . . . I don’t want to talk,” she managed to say.

“I do.”

“Gabe—”

“You owe me this.”

Her body jerked as she pressed her lips together. He was right. She owed him a conversation. “Okay.”

There was another beat of silence and then he asked in a voice so low she almost didn’t believe she heard him right. “Did I hurt you that night?”