Baltimore, Maryland,
Tuesday 14 June, 7.15 A.M.
Go ahead. Let me have it.
Thorne knew what she meant by the words. Which was not the way he wanted to take them. He stood at her window, his hands fisted at his sides because he wanted her so goddamn much. He wanted to turn around and grab her, kiss her, throw her over his shoulder and toss her on the bed. He wanted to strip her, touch her. Worship her.
He was vibrating with it. His skin felt too thin, too tight. Like he’d split out of it any minute. Let me have it. His brain replayed the words over and over, taunting him, because he couldn’t do what he wanted to do. Not tonight. Not ever.
I wasn’t drugged the whole time. Evan had hurt her. Broken something inside her. But she’s healing. Not broken anymore. She said so herself. So let her have it.
It would be so simple to listen to the devil on his shoulder. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. It was why he’d told her to stay put tonight.
Yes, he wanted her safe, but logically he’d already come to the same conclusion that JD had. There’d been plenty of security at the hospital. She would have been safe there.
From shooters. But not from me.
The realization had shaken him soundly. She’s not safe from me. He’d kissed her tonight. He wanted to do it again. So much.
‘Hey.’ She was behind him all of a sudden. Poking him in the back. ‘Hey. I’m talking to you. Don’t ignore me.’
‘Like I ever could.’ He flinched. He hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.
She grabbed a handful of his shirtsleeve and pulled. ‘Talk to me, dammit.’
He whirled then, gripping her shoulders and holding her at arm’s length. ‘You don’t want to hear what I have to say right now,’ he warned in a low growl that he didn’t even recognize as his own voice.
Her eyes widened. Then narrowed. Twin streaks of ruby red rode high on her cheekbones, and she was breathing very deliberately. ‘What do you have to say?’ she asked, and then her tongue stole out to wet her lower lip and he couldn’t stifle his groan.
He closed his eyes. He was trembling now. He’d been trembling in the hospital when he’d looked up and seen her. He’d wanted her in that moment. Had wanted to lose himself in her body. Had needed some kind of valve for the pressure that had spiked in his head.
Pressure that was now ten times higher and spiking everywhere.
‘Thorne,’ she whispered. ‘Look at me.’
He didn’t want to. He wasn’t going to. But then she begged, ‘Please.’
He looked down into that beautiful face, and his breath caught. She wasn’t afraid. She was aroused, her eyes hot and snapping with desire. ‘Tell me,’ she demanded hoarsely.
‘God, I want you. I want to lay you down and . . .’ He shuddered, his body so hard that it ached.
‘And?’ She rolled her shoulders, easily escaping his hold because he’d kept it gentle. Even when he wanted her so much he thought he’d explode, he could keep his hands gentle. She stepped closer and he stepped back. Her mouth quirked up in amusement and she took another step closer. His giant step back put him up against the wall.
She took one more step and was plastered against him, her hands flat on his chest, rubbing up the fabric of his shirt. Her eyes were still hot and aroused. Her hands did not tremble.
She wanted this. Wanted him. ‘What, Thorne?’ she pressed. ‘Lay me down and what?’
His head dropped back, hitting the wall with an audible crack that he barely even felt. ‘I want to see you. I want to touch you. Every inch of you. I want to come inside you and then I want to come inside you.’ He whispered the last words and felt her shudder before becoming aware of small hands on the buttons of his shirt. Undressing him.
And then she had his shirt open and her lips were brushing his skin and he couldn’t breathe. ‘Please,’ he said, his eyes still closed, the words like gravel in his throat. ‘If you aren’t serious, stop now. You’re killing me.’
The click-clack of her shoes hitting her floor as she took them off was the only warning he got before she launched herself onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands automatically found her butt, his arms trapping her legs against his sides. She leaned in to kiss him, hard. Then she licked his lip. ‘Kiss me, Thorne.’
And then he was. He was kissing her and she was opening for him and it was everything he’d ever wished for. His tongue swept inside her mouth, tasting her, and she made a hungry noise deep in her throat.
Then she ripped away, breathing hard, her legs wrapped around his hips, her hands on his face. ‘This is what I want to happen,’ she murmured. ‘I want you to take me into the bedroom and do all the things you just said. But I don’t have any condoms.’
Frustrated disappointment hit him like a rogue wave. ‘Fuck.’
Her eyes managed to be aroused and serious at the same time. ‘I’m clean. I got tested obsessively after . . .’ She shook her head hard, as if flinging the thought away, then met his eyes squarely. ‘Are you? Clean, I mean?’
‘Yes. I’ve been tested twice in the last two years. Once for an insurance policy and then in the hospital on Sunday.’ He swallowed hard. ‘It’s been a long time for me, Gwyn.’
Her thumbs stroked his cheeks. ‘How long?’
He hesitated. ‘Four and a half years.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You . . . waited? For me?’
‘I didn’t want to. I wanted to get on with my life. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t walk away from you.’ A shiver rippled over his skin at the thought of burying himself inside her. ‘I might not last long.’
Her lips curved sweetly. ‘We’ve got time.’ Then she leaned in and kissed him again. They were halfway to her bedroom before he realized his feet had started moving. He finished the trip in a few big strides and set her down, so that she stood on the bed. From this angle, he was looking up at her.
And he loved what he saw. He touched her blouse. ‘Tell me I can take this off.’
‘You can take it all off.’
Hands shaking, he did. He slipped the blouse over her head, pressing kisses down her throat, between her breasts, so enticing in the lacy bra. He unhooked it with one hand and she laughed breathlessly.
‘I don’t want to know how you got so good at that,’ she murmured, then she was gasping and moaning as he pulled the bra away and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth.
He released her, pressing kisses between breasts that were more than a handful even for his big paws. ‘You’re so pretty,’ he said.
She blushed. ‘I want to see you.’
He held his arms out and she pushed the shirt from his shoulders, humming her appreciation. ‘You have the most beautiful skin.’ She dropped kisses across his pecs. ‘I saw you once,’ she confessed. ‘In the shower. At the club.’
‘I know.’ He unbuttoned her skirt, groaning when she stepped out of it, leaving her wearing only a tiny pair of black lace panties. He cupped her breasts, loving the feel, the weight. ‘I saw you watching me.’
Her eyes flew wide. ‘You’re lying.’
‘I would never lie to you.’ He grinned at her. ‘I was preening for you that day.’
She kissed her way from his cheek to his neck, her tongue stealing a lick. ‘It worked. I dreamed about what you looked like for months and months. I got a lot of mileage out of that one accidental peek.’ She pulled his belt loose. ‘Take off your pants. I don’t want to have to remember what you looked like. I want to see.’
His pants hit the floor a second later and she let out a long breath as she stared at the bulge in his briefs, which were at that moment cutting off his circulation. ‘Wow.’
Her fingers traced his length and he wanted to . . . Not yet. Let her lead this dance. There would be other times for him to take the reins. But not today.
He was jerked from the conversation with himself by her hands grabbing his waistband and yanking his briefs to his thighs. She followed them down, dropping to her knees on the bed. And then . . .
‘God,’ he barked. Because her mouth was on him, hot and wet and . . . perfect. ‘Please. Yes. Please.’ His hands went to her hair, but he wouldn’t let himself thread his fingers through it, wouldn’t let himself hold her head, wouldn’t urge her to go faster or deeper.
She pulled off his cock, licking her lips. ‘I’m not breakable, Thorne.’ She winked up at him. ‘I promise.’
He didn’t have a chance to ask her what that meant, because she was on him again and there was no way he could tell her to stop. There weren’t the words. But he wanted more than this. Wanted to feel what it was like inside her. So he picked her up and laid her on the mattress, then ripped the pretty black lace down her legs, revealing the trimmed patch of dark hair he’d only dreamed about.
He stood there for a moment, staring. And then she bent one knee, opening herself to him. His eyes flew to hers and she winked again. His brain short-circuited, and then he was on his knees on the floor, pulling at her legs until her ass was hanging off the mattress and his mouth was on her.
She made another hungry noise and undulated against his mouth in a rhythm that drove him crazy. He pulled away, shaking his head.
‘I want you to come when I’m inside you.’
‘Then hurry up,’ she said with a strangled laugh.
He dove onto the mattress, rolling to his back and pulling her upward and over, so that she straddled him. ‘I’ve thought about this a million times,’ he whispered. ‘I want you to ride me the first time. I want to see your face when I fill you up.’
Another one of those breathy moans escaped her throat. ‘Yes.’ Bracing her palms on his chest, she set her hips so that his cock was right there. At the entrance. But . . .
She was crying. Tears welled in her eyes and slipped down her face.
‘What?’ he whispered, panicked, because he’d rather die than hurt her. ‘We can stop.’ It might literally kill him, but he’d do it.
‘No. Don’t you dare stop. It’s just . . . I thought I’d lost this forever. This connection. I’m so glad it was you who brought me back, Thorne. Thank you.’ She leaned in to kiss him, and slid down so that the head of his cock slipped in.
Tight. And bare. ‘Never,’ he gasped. ‘Never done it like this.’
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘Me either. You’re so hot.’
That made him grin. ‘I know.’
She laughed. ‘Shut up. I meant temperature.’
‘Hot-blooded, that’s me.’ But the light moment passed by and they were serious again, eyes locked as she slid all the way down.
Then he couldn’t hold her gaze anymore, because his eyes were rolling back in his head and he was biting his tongue not to come right away. She lifted and fell, harder and harder, and he forced himself to look up at her face, not wanting to miss a second of her taking her pleasure.
She sped up, rocking on him, gorgeous little whimpers coming from her throat. And then her back arched, her head falling back like a flower too heavy for its stem, and she was coming, clamping down on his cock so hard he couldn’t hold back another second.
Grabbing her waist, he planted his feet on the mattress for purchase and thrust upward once, twice, and then it was like he was flying. He came, shouting her name, just like he’d dreamed so many times.
I love you. He wanted to say it, to scream it, but stopped himself. It wasn’t time yet. He knew that. But it would be time eventually. He’d waited seven years. He could wait a little while longer.
Baltimore, Maryland,
Tuesday 14 June, 2.45 P.M.
Gwyn woke to find the sun high in the sky outside her bedroom window, the ceiling fan spinning lazily, and more than half of her bed taken over by a huge, sprawling man who slept on his stomach, snoring softly. The sheet was pooled at his waist, showing off acres of muscle and the tattoo that she’d always wanted to trace with her tongue. They’d been in too big a hurry for her to do so the night before. Both times. They’d just had too much lost time to make up for. Too much stored-up need.
Next time, she promised herself. In the light of day, while the world did its own thing outside her window. Next time she’d take her time and lick him all over.
She might have snuggled closer, but her cell phone was buzzing with an incoming call, the number an unfamiliar one. ‘Hello?’ she answered, and Thorne immediately woke, his eyes doing a quick tour of the ceiling before landing on her. His slow smile was enough to make her want to end the call and jump him. Again. And again.
Shifting to his back, he reached for his own phone, checking his texts. Then, rolling onto his side, he propped his head on his forearm, smiling a little smugly when he saw her gaze glued to his bare chest. God, the man was built.
‘May I speak to Amber Kelly?’ The voice in Gwyn’s ear was smooth, cultured and female.
It took Gwyn a minute to remember that Amber Kelly was the name she’d given to the hair salon owned by Angie Ospina, the woman Thorne had rescued from Richard Linden’s clutches nineteen years ago.
It seemed nearly nineteen years ago that she’d made the appointment, rather than only a little more than twenty-four hours.
‘This is she,’ she said cheerfully, because she was supposed to be eloping tonight. She blinked rapidly, bringing back all the details she’d used in her phone call yesterday.
‘I’m calling from the Heavenly Salon, confirming your appointment for five thirty.’
Gwyn glanced at the clock. Just enough time to get there. ‘I’ve been looking forward to it all day,’ she gushed. ‘See you in a little while.’
She ended the call, then snuggled back down on her pillow so that she and Thorne were face to face. ‘How is Phil?’ she asked, pointing to his phone.
‘Resting comfortably. He sent Jamie home with Frederick to get some sleep. They stopped by Clay’s to pick up Julie, and now they’re headed to Frederick’s. Jamie’s house is still a crime scene.’
‘Sam?’
‘Ruby texted. He’s fine, and she is too.’
‘And Agent Ingram?’
He frowned. ‘Still critical. He hasn’t woken up yet.’
She reached out to rub at the deep groove that bisected his forehead. ‘Not your fault, baby.’
‘I know. At least we know how the shooter got in. Phil was finally lucid enough to tell Jamie what happened. He got a text on his cell phone – from my number.’
‘Shit.’
‘Exactly. The text said that I’d lost my key. Phil was making hot chocolate in the frother for Sam and asked him to open the door.’
‘Spoofing site again.’
‘Yeah. Sam opened the door, and pow, he went down, but Phil didn’t hear.’
‘Because he was running the frother. It’s so loud.’
‘Right again. Phil saw the intruder and yelled, but Ingram was bleeding, and Sam was unconscious.’
‘But he saw him?’
‘Not really. The intruder was wearing a mask.’
‘Of course he was,’ Gwyn murmured.
‘Phil might not have been able to see his face, but he got a good hit in.’ Thorne’s lips curved a little. ‘He picked up the frother, tossed the hot milk in the intruder’s face, then hit him with the metal pot. It didn’t stop the guy, so Phil picked up a ceramic cookie jar and hit him with that too. The jar shattered.’
‘So the shooter may have left some blood behind on the broken pieces?’
‘If he left anything behind, it was too small for Jamie to see. He saw the cookies all over the floor when he rushed to Phil’s side, but the jar was gone. The intruder picked up all the pieces. So there was probably blood on them, or he was afraid there would be. The guy never actually touched Phil, although Phil said he was holding a club – probably the one he hit Sam with. The doctor says it was likely a combination of the exertion of Phil fighting back and general fear that triggered the heart attack.’
‘But he’s going to be okay,’ Gwyn said positively. ‘The doctor said so.’
A small smile. ‘Yes, he did. Who was on the phone?’
‘The salon, the one that your old classmate owns.’
He frowned again. ‘You can’t keep that appointment.’
‘Why not?’ She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘And don’t even bother to say it’s not safe. I know it’s not safe. Which is why we have to make this thing stop as quickly as possible. It’s not like you can go in my place.’ She raked an appreciative gaze over his body. ‘No offense, but there’s no way you’d fit in at a salon like that.’
‘I could get a haircut,’ he muttered.
She laughed. ‘Baby, they’d take one look at you and a fight would break out over who got to put you in their chair. All the stylists would be stabbing each other with their shears and blood would flow.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Stop it.’
‘Why?’ She smirked at him. ‘It’s true. There is no fucking way I’m letting you anywhere near a bunch of women in a beauty salon. They’re worse than a pool full of piranhas.’
‘You’re not going in alone,’ he snapped.
‘Okay,’ she said quickly, chuckling when he realized he’d all but agreed she could go. ‘You can wait in the lobby.’
His scowl returned. ‘You can’t do this. What if Angie is connected with Tavilla in some way?’
She blinked at him. ‘That’s a leap.’
‘He got details from someone. The only people who knew about that damn key ring are either dead or too scared to talk to anyone. Now we’re down to the original cast of characters – Richard’s three friends and Angie.’
She thought about that and he was right. ‘There is a connection between Tavilla and somebody in your past,’ she agreed. ‘Detective Prew knew.’
Thorne frowned. ‘I’ve thought of that too. He was so helpful. Made me suspicious.’
‘Plus we gave him a road map of where we’d be yesterday. How else would someone know we were going to be at the EMT’s apartment?’
‘I know,’ he said, still growly. ‘I need to check him out. But don’t think you’ve distracted me. You’re still not keeping that appointment. We’ll get someone else.’
‘Who?’ she challenged. ‘Lucy? Stevie? Paige? They’re all new moms with babies. Maybe Ruby? She’s only seven months pregnant. No? That leaves me, unless you want to tell Hyatt and have him give the job to one of his female officers. And of course Hyatt will be so forthcoming with whatever they find out,’ she finished sarcastically.
‘Now you’re just playing dirty,’ he grumbled.
She smiled, knowing she’d won. ‘Poor baby. Little me, such a threat to big strong you. Should I make it up to you?’
He actually pouted. ‘We don’t have time. We have to get to Bethesda by five thirty.’
Pushing him onto his back, she rolled on top of him and slid down his body until she straddled his hips, her palms flat on his hard abs. She shivered as she rocked back and felt his very hard cock nudging her flesh. His hands gripped her waist, his eyes meeting hers, and her heart actually hurt with all she saw there. Desire, of course, but so much more. How could she have missed it for so many years?
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
His brows crunched a little. ‘For what?’
‘For waiting for me.’
‘You’re worth it,’ he whispered fiercely, the second time he’d said the words. She had no doubt that he believed it with every fiber of his existence. Someday she might believe it too.
Until then, she’d show him what he was worth. Everything. He’s everything. And he always has been. She leaned in and kissed him slowly, luxuriously. ‘You are so beautiful,’ she murmured against his mouth. She licked his lip and his hands slid down her back to her butt. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. In my bed.’ And suddenly she found herself hoping that she really had been worth the wait.
He pressed his head back into the pillow so that he could see her face. ‘What?’
She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip, already a little swollen from their kisses. ‘Nothing,’ she said when the question in her heart wouldn’t form into actual words.
‘No.’ He brought his hands to cup her face so tenderly her eyes began to sting. ‘It’s not nothing. Tell me.’
‘I guess . . .’ She looked away, hoping the tears in her eyes would drain back to wherever they had come from. ‘I guess I just hope it was worth it. That I was worth it.’
He tugged her chin until she was looking at him again. ‘I just said you were worth it.’ His lips curved. ‘Weren’t you listening?’
‘Yes.’ She tried to pull away, to slide down his body and make him forget the question entirely, but he held her in place easily, one hand on her ass, the other gripping her chin.
‘Gwyn.’ Just her name, but said so sweetly that she blinked, sending the tears down her face. He wiped them away with gentle fingers. ‘Talk to me, love.’
Love. God. ‘I just . . . You waited a long time. For me. And I know you’ve . . .’ her cheeks burned and he swept his thumb across her heated skin, ‘experienced a lot of . . .’ She closed her eyes, too embarrassed to speak. ‘I need to get ready for my appointment.’
‘No. Talk to me. And look at me. Please.’
She forced her eyes to open and the words to leave her mouth. ‘I don’t want to disappoint you.’
He frowned. ‘You couldn’t.’ Then his eyes widened. ‘You mean in bed? You’re asking if I enjoyed it? Seriously?’
She wished she’d never brought it up. ‘I know you enjoyed it,’ she muttered.
‘Twice,’ he said smugly, and she laughed, which made him smile. ‘What’s this about?’ He squeezed the ass cheek he still held firmly. ‘If you can’t talk to me, who can you talk to? Come on.’
‘You waited for me for a long time. I just want it to be worth it.’
His smile became rueful. ‘If it had been any more worth it, I’d be sharing a room with Phil in the cardiac unit.’ He threaded his fingers through her hair, gently working through the tangles. Always gently. Even when he’d been angry with her, he’d been gentle. ‘Gwyneth Bronwynne Weaver, it was worth it. If I had to wait ten years more, it would have been worth it.’ He gave her hair a tiny tug. ‘Having said that, I’m glad I didn’t have to wait ten years more. I might have exploded.’
Her chuckle was watery. ‘You say the sweetest things.’
He pulled her down for another kiss that left her wanting more. She ran her lips over his jaw, down his throat, until his voice rumbled deep in his chest. ‘I hate to say this, but we really do need to be going soon if we’re going to make it to Bethesda.’
Her hand wandered down his chest to his groin, closing around him. He was still so hard. She squeezed and he groaned.
‘Dammit, Gwyn. Don’t be a tease. That’s not fair.’
She glanced at the bedside clock and did the math in her head. ‘I don’t have to do my hair. That’ll save at least fifteen minutes. If I put my makeup on in the car, that’ll save another fifteen.’ She grinned down at him. ‘I can do a lot with half an hour.’
Her only answer was another groan as she disappeared under the sheet and took him into her mouth.
Bethesda, Maryland,
Tuesday 14 June, 5.15 P.M.
The traffic gods had smiled on them, Thorne thought as he pulled into the salon’s parking lot fifteen minutes early for Gwyn’s appointment with Angie Ospina. The lot was filled with Mercedes, BMWs, a few Bentleys, and even a Maserati. Fire-engine red, of course.
‘Swanky,’ Gwyn murmured. ‘No wonder she took out loans. The rent in this neighborhood is astronomical, and she actually owns her place. I bet her mortgage alone is more than she’s been bringing in on average.’
News of Angie’s loans had come via Alec Vaughn just minutes before. Gwyn had been on the phone with him almost the entire time that Thorne had been driving them from Baltimore to Bethesda. Alec really was an IT whizz-kid. Clay was lucky to have him as part of his company and Thorne was grateful that he was sharing the young man’s remarkable hacking skills.
‘What exactly did Alec say?’ he asked.
‘That Angie took the first loan from Linden Senior ten years ago. Although a payoff seems far more likely than a loan. She took out a second mortgage with a local bank four years ago, then someone made her a private loan in the amount of . . .’ Her voice trailed off. ‘Holy shit, Thorne. Four hundred thousand dollars. That’s on top of the second mortgage.’
Thorne’s eyes popped wide. ‘That’s a lot of money to privately loan someone. She must be hemorrhaging money to need that kind of cash infusion.’
She frowned. ‘But that’s the weird thing. She’s not losing money. She’s making payroll and still putting away what looks like a small profit.’
‘Then why would she need a loan? Who made the loan?’ he added because the ‘why’ wasn’t a question either of them could answer at this point.
‘Alec can’t trace it yet. But the timing is interesting.’ She lifted her brows at Thorne. ‘The four hundred grand was deposited into her bank account a month ago.’
‘Tavilla could have been poking around a month ago, although it probably wouldn’t have been him personally. He generally doesn’t get his hands dirty. Always uses his right-hand men to do the blatantly illegal stuff. Definitely worth checking into.’
‘I don’t know if it was Tavilla or not.’ She was frowning at her phone. ‘But the loans – including the second mortgage – were all deposited at the same time of year. Actually in the same month, within a three-day window.’
That was interesting. ‘The anniversary of something?’
‘Makes sense to me.’ Gwyn checked the time on her phone. ‘I should be going in soon. You can come in with me, but it’s risky. Your photo is all over the news.’
He released his seat belt. ‘I don’t like you going in there alone.’
She didn’t really either. It was just a beauty salon, but if Angie was guilty of something and felt cornered, it could get dicey. Gwyn had a .38 in her girdle holster beneath her blouse and a knife in the thigh holster that was covered by her knee-length skirt. Watching her dress had been a conflicting experience for Thorne – both arousing and terrifying. He hadn’t come this far to lose her.
Her phone buzzed with an incoming text. ‘It’s Alec again,’ she said. ‘He’s asking me if I’ve gone in yet. I’m telling him no, and why. Hmm,’ she said a few seconds later. ‘He says he’s brought reinforcements and to tell you to drive to the McDonald’s one block north of here.’ She responded, voicing as she typed. ‘My appointment is in ten minutes.’ She chuckled. ‘He says, “This will be worth it. Thorne will be happy. We are in a white van.”’
Thorne immediately pulled away from the salon and began to drive. ‘I like to be happy, but call him. I want to make sure it’s him and that we’re not getting spoofed again.’
Gwyn did as he asked. ‘What’s up, kid?’ she said, putting Alec on speaker when he answered.
‘I’m busy,’ he snapped.
‘We needed to know it was you.’
‘Oh.’ His voice softened. ‘Didn’t think about that. Sorry. It’s me. Gotta go.’
‘There it is,’ Thorne said. ‘The white van. And there’s Ford.’ Taylor’s fiancé sat behind the wheel. The panel behind him slid open, revealing Alec, who waved Gwyn inside.
Thorne lowered the window so that he and Ford could talk. ‘He’s going to wire her,’ Ford explained. ‘We didn’t want you to tell her not to go in, in case we couldn’t get here in time, but traffic wasn’t too bad. Park your SUV and get in the van. We’ll park close enough to the salon that you can storm the place if you need to.’
Thorne breathed easily for the first time since leaving the safety of Gwyn’s bed. ‘Thank you.’
Ford grinned. ‘Thank Clay. This was his idea.’
‘Excuse me,’ Alec protested. ‘It was my idea. I just made Clay think it was his.’
Gwyn smiled at both young men. ‘Whoever had the idea, I thank you two for coming all the way out here.’
Alec was checking the connections as Thorne climbed into the van. ‘You have a tail, you know. Black SUV. Escalade.’
Thorne pulled the van’s door shut. ‘I know. Detective Hector Rivera. He’s a member of Joseph’s joint task force. JD introduced him to us when he dropped us off at Gwyn’s condo this morning.’
Ford glanced in his rear-view mirror. ‘You know you could have come back to Clay’s house,’ he said seriously. ‘They have lots of room.’
‘I know,’ Thorne said. ‘But I can’t help thinking that if I’m not there, they’re safer.’
‘I don’t think that’s true,’ Alec said. ‘I think this Tavilla asshole is going after the people who are important to you. Whether you’re there to see it or not seems immaterial.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Thorne admitted. ‘But I still don’t want to paint targets on their backs any more than I have to. We need to go now. It’s almost five thirty.’ He sat next to Gwyn on the middle seat and Alec moved up front with Ford.
Alec waved his hand. ‘Make it so, Number One.’
Ford snorted. ‘You are such a geek.’
‘And proud to be.’
Gwyn grabbed Thorne’s hand. ‘I’m glad he’s proud to be a geek, because he knew how to wire me up.’
‘Me too.’
They pulled back in front of the salon with a minute to spare. Gwyn grabbed Thorne by the tie and pulled him down for a hard kiss. ‘It’s going to be fine.’
Love you, he wanted to say, but he held it back. ‘Be careful,’ he said instead.
She winked as she got out of the van. ‘Count on it. We have unfinished business.’
He watched her saunter away, then glanced at the two younger men in the front seats. Both stared at him open-mouthed.
‘Wow,’ Ford murmured.
‘That was . . . wow,’ Alec echoed, then he grinned. ‘You’ve been holding out on everyone, Thorne. Just think of how excited the ladies are going to be over this news. I can’t wait to tell them.’
‘Too late,’ Ford said smugly. ‘Just texted Taylor. Everyone will know in about three seconds flat.’
Thorne wanted to be annoyed. He really did. But he was too damn happy. Giddy. Like a damned teenager.
Then Alec waved his hand. ‘Gwyn’s in the salon. I’m recording this, but if we’re quiet, we can hear.’ He connected his phone to the processor he wore behind his ear, then put the phone on speaker so that Ford and Thorne could hear too.
And that fast, Thorne’s giddiness turned to dread. She’d better be careful. They both had too much to lose.