Gunning for the Groom (5 page)

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Authors: Debra Webb

BOOK: Gunning for the Groom
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He tried to decipher the scent to avoid sympathizing with her obvious discomfort. “Roses?”

“No.” She shook her head, her nose wrinkling. “Lilies and tulips. Her favorites. She'll be wrapped around your finger in an instant.”

“That's helpful,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “Ted tells me your ring will be sized and polished shortly.”

“Great.” Her smile was brittle. “I'll, um, put these in the car.”

“It can wait.” Aidan stepped forward, crowding her just a bit. “I missed you.” He brushed his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Did you miss me?”

She wanted to snarl at him, that was clear, but he was only playing the part that matched her idea. He needed her to go all in or bail out before they showed up on her mother's doorstep.

“I hardly know what to do with myself without you,” she said, her voice far too sweet.

He laughed and took the flowers from her hands, setting the vase near the register. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head again.

Aidan suspected pain and nerves were blocking her appetite. The faint brackets around her lush mouth and her stiff posture clued him in. If he thought she'd open up, he'd ask more questions about her recovery. She hid her injury well and he believed she was close to 100 percent. That didn't mean he couldn't be thoughtful or help her manage what must be challenging at times. He just had to do it in a way that didn't offend her.

Ted caught their attention as he returned with a small, emerald-colored velvet box. “All set,” he said, handing it to Aidan.

For such a tiny thing, it felt damned heavy in his hand. He studied Frankie's face as he popped open the lid, giving her a glimpse inside. “Will that do?”

Her eyes were huge as she looked at the ring, then up at him. “Aidan...”

He waited, but she didn't finish. “I think we hit the mark, Ted. Thanks.” His fingers felt thick and sluggish as he pulled out the ring and nudged it gently onto Frankie's finger.

His breath backed up in his throat and he felt light-headed. Getting sick here would ruin the moment and he willed his stomach to stop churning. He'd vowed never to go through these motions again. Knowing it wasn't real didn't seem to help matters. He blinked away the hazy memories until he saw Frankie's hand, the new ring and nothing more.

She flared her fingers, her gaze locked on the ring, her lips parted in surprise. “Aidan, I... It looks so—”

He kissed her before she could finish and blow their cover. “I'm honored you said yes.” He handed her the flowers and guided her quickly from the store.

At the car, he opened the passenger door for her. “I'll drive. You look a little shell-shocked.”

He closed the door before she could answer, but the silence didn't last.

“What are you thinking?” she exclaimed as he backed out of the parking space.

“If it's too small, speak now and I'll exchange it,” he said, his voice rough with the emotions he couldn't quite block out.

She swore. “You know it isn't. This is crazy, Aidan.”

“Your idea or my cooperation?” What did he have to do to get her to drop this?

“Be serious,” she snapped. “You can't just buy me a ring.” She started to tug it off. “Go back to the store.”

He pulled into the next available parking space. “Have you changed your mind about this approach?”

She glared at him, her hands tangled in her lap, the vase of flowers sitting at her feet. “No.”

“Then it stays on.” The command came out with more heat than he'd intended. “Think of it as the prop that will reinforce the story you want your mother to believe.”

“You don't get a prop from a real jeweler.”

“That's a matter of opinion.” He set the navigation on his cell phone for the hotel they'd booked. “I suggest you get used to it. If your mother or anyone else catches you without it, you'll have bigger lies to weave.” His second engagement was going far worse than the first one. At least this time around he knew it was temporary. Hopefully when he met her mother he'd have a better understanding of why Frankie insisted on this tactic.

“Fine.” She drummed her palms on her knees. “It's just—”

“Find a complimentary word,” he warned.

Aidan shook off the frustration and bad memories as they merged with the traffic. As the silence stretched he figured she couldn't find a compliment, or she was plotting her next strategic maneuver. Either way, he was grateful for the momentary truce. When he'd pulled to a stop under the hotel awning, he turned to her again. “Did you think to change our reservation to a single room?”

She sagged back into the seat. “No.” She reached across the console, her hand soft on his arm, the diamond bright on her finger. “But let me handle this one, okay?”

Unsure whether that was wise, he brainstormed ways to mitigate the damage if she launched yet another surprise attack or kept the separate rooms.

Instinctively taking in the surroundings, Aidan logged every face and position of the other guests in the lobby. He'd reviewed everything Victoria had sent him last night when he was battling the typical new-case insomnia.

Sophia Leone co-owned a security company after her years as an analyst for the alphabet soup in Washington, DC. Her own daughter suspected her of abusing her position to eliminate her husband. To support the case, the Colby Agency hadn't bothered to hide their travel itinerary, and Frankie had told her mother she'd be arriving today. As the widow of a high-powered general, Sophia must have a vast network of friends from all over the globe. Aidan knew he and Frankie would be at a disadvantage in these early hours. It wasn't paranoia to suspect someone was on-site keeping watch.

Which guest was here as a favor to Sophia? Which one would report Frankie had arrived with a man acting like a boyfriend? Aidan put a mental tag on the two most likely candidates and then shifted most of his attention to Frankie as she checked in.

He was glad they planned to keep the initial mother-daughter reunion brief, so they'd have time to review the key players at Leo Solutions tonight. With any luck, his contact at Interpol would have more information on the passports Frankie had found.

“Adjoining rooms?” Frankie queried. “I was sure I booked a suite.” She bumped Aidan's shoulder as she pulled out her phone. “How did I mix that up? Honey, do you have the confirmation I emailed you?”

Aidan pulled his phone from his pocket. “Let me take a look.”

“We'll get it straightened out,” the woman at the desk assured her.

“We just got engaged,” Frankie explained, letting the diamond flash. “We're here to surprise the family.” Her smile was as bright as the diamond. “I'm so excited.” She rubbed her hand up and down his arm. “I probably clicked the wrong box by mistake.”

Impressed—affected—by her performance, he cursed himself for asking her to commit to the role of excited fiancée. He should've just said no to the cover story change. She thought he was worried about her physically, when her emotional state concerned him more. Now he feared he'd fall for her if they kept this up. What a fool he was.

“Congratulations.” The woman checking them in admired the ring before setting her fingers on the keyboard. “I do have a suite available. Let me just...” She tapped more keys. “That should do it.” She glanced up and beamed at them. “I've adjusted the rate through the weekend.” She programmed two key cards and tucked them into a small envelope, pushing it across the counter. With a map of the hotel, she pointed out their room and the basic amenities. “You'll be right here with an excellent view of the city,” she said, circling what appeared to be a corner room. “Park wherever you like. The closest elevators are down the first corridor on your left.” She pointed. “Do you need help with your luggage?”

“I'll manage,” Aidan said. He wanted some privacy, and fast. He didn't want Frankie second-guessing or throwing him another curveball.

They made it up to the suite in one trip even with the flowers. Frankie walked inside and stopped short in the center of the room. “Holy cow. That view. We should get engaged more often.”

The “we” gave him pause, though she was right to be thinking in teamwork terms. He blamed the strange twitch between his shoulder blades on the residual effect of sliding that ring onto her finger. Stepping up beside her, he enjoyed the floor-to-ceiling corner window that gave them a panoramic view of Seattle's west side. “You have a beautiful hometown.”

“That's overstating it.”

Her reflexive disagreement made him feel better somehow. “Did you ever live in a place that felt like a hometown?”

She turned away from the windows to set the vase of wrapped flowers on the tall dresser next to the television. “We moved a lot, obviously. Wherever we lived, there were certain items that went in specific places. Little things like the key rack near the door, a family portrait in the dining room. My mom's theory was those details made the transitions easier.”

He followed as she rolled her suitcase into the bedroom. “Did it work?”

She looked over her shoulder, a mix of nostalgia and sorrow clouding her eyes. “Yes.”

Should he point out the mixed messages she gave him about her mother? It was as if she described two different women: one a devoted wife and mother, possibly a hopeless romantic, and the other a sharp mind capable of wreaking havoc on the world at large.

A fresh awareness, and a desperate ache to fix everything for Frankie, filled him. Had he learned nothing from his mistakes? He was an investigator, end of story. He had to remember that, had to keep his focus on the facts, for her safety and his.

He backed toward the door. “I'm going to check on the leads I was working on those passports.”

“Fine,” she said, not looking at him. “I'll, um, work out a few things in here.”

“Is an hour enough time?”

The only sign of tension was the little catch in her breathing. “That works for me.”

Chapter Six

Frankie let Aidan drive to her mother's new house in Queen Anne while she held the flowers. Periodically she stretched her hands to relieve the tension that mounted with every passing block. After some restorative yoga in the hotel room, she felt better, stronger and ready to calmly face whatever came next. Though it hadn't done any good last time, a tiny part of her still wanted to charge in and blast her mother with an all-out attack.

Unfortunately, unless she used the condemning statement Sophia had signed, Frankie didn't have anything else confirmed enough to ask about. Aidan hadn't turned up any concrete information on the passports. The best he could tell, they'd never been used, despite the stamps inside. So why had they been in the safe-deposit box? Frankie reminded herself things were moving forward, intelligently if not quickly. For the first time since getting kicked out of the navy, she didn't feel alone.

She slid a glance at her undercover groom as they neared her mother's home, wondering what kind of reception to expect. Would it be stilted and weird or warm and happy? Her last conversation with her mom, in the cemetery at her father's grave, had been tense and ugly. Grief-stricken, she'd tossed out accusations and hammered Sophia with questions she wouldn't answer. Frankie prepared for an awkward encounter, though Sophia would surely pour on the charm with Aidan around.

Sunlight caught on the engagement ring. The fragrant scent of lilies filled the car. Frankie was showing up at her mother's house with a fiancé and a bouquet of flowers. Her emotions swung from one extreme to the other with every heartbeat as Aidan pulled to a stop in front of the house. The struggle had her waffling between the idea that going to Victoria had been smart, and the possibility that it had been foolish. Frankie needed investigative support to get justice and clear her father's name. No, she needed only one honest answer. It reminded her of being caught in an undertow. She could see the sunlight, knew where she needed to go, while an unseen force dragged her out to sea.

She looked up at the tidy Craftsman house with trimmed hedges lining the walkway and steps up to the porch, which was framed with flower boxes on the railing. The ironwork table and chairs had decorated patios or porches in various homes where they'd lived around the world for as long as Frankie could remember. How many quiet moments had her parents shared at that table over the years? What did it mean that her mother still had those pieces?

“This makes no sense.”

“Which part?” Aidan studied her closely. “Your mom hasn't seen the ring or me. There's still time for the original game plan.”

“The engagement is the only piece of this puzzle I trust to work as expected.” Frankie stared at the table and chairs.

“Is that an attempt to scare me off?”

“No.” Her heavy sigh rippled across the tissue covering the flowers. She pushed the bouquet into his hands. “We're on, my darling fiancé. Let's make it count.”

They climbed out of the car and Aidan locked the doors with the key fob. “Play nice,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to her cheek as they walked up to the porch. “I've got your back.”

She wanted to roll her eyes. He had no idea what he was walking into, though she was ridiculously grateful he was with her.

Her mother must've been watching from a window. The front door flew open the moment they topped the stairs. Sophia hovered in the doorway, her hands clutched over her heart.

“Frankie,” she breathed. “Oh, thank heaven. You're home.” She drew her into a crushing hug.

Frankie patted her mother's shoulders, biting back the snide observation that a house she'd never seen couldn't be home. There would be time for barbs like that later. Indulging her petty streak now would undermine the ultimate goal: to get the truth out of Sophia.

“Mom,” Frankie said, escaping the embrace. “This is Aidan Abbot.”

Aidan extended the vase of flowers. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Leone.”

Sophia's eyes, shining with unshed tears, darted from Frankie to Aidan and back again. “Come in, come in. Any friend of Frankie's—”

“Fiancé,” Frankie clarified. “We started as friends, though.” She imagined whoever she married—if she married—would have to be a friend first. She held up her hand to show off the ring and sell the lie. Sophia's eyes widened and her lips parted, but she couldn't seem to speak. When they got back to the hotel, Frankie would admit to Aidan that he had been right about the ring making all the difference.

“Oh, come in! Come in here and tell me everything.” Sophia gripped Frankie's hand for a closer inspection. Looking to Aidan, she said, “You have excellent taste.”

“I thought it suited her.” A smug grin crossed his face as they followed Sophia inside. “Frankie wouldn't have taken my proposal seriously without it.”

Sophia beamed at her. “That's my girl,” she said with pride.

Clearly Aidan planned to gloat over this when they were alone. At least Frankie could revel in being right about her mother's mushy romantic side. Thoughts of who'd trumped whom faded as her eyes landed on the family portrait hanging in a place of honor over the sideboard in the dining room. She stopped short, staring.

Sophia paused, as well. “You seem surprised,” she said after a moment.

“Look at you.” Aidan gave her hand a squeeze as he admired the portrait. “You're so happy.”

Frankie would argue as soon as she got over the shock. Had Sophia put this here when she'd moved in, or had she dug it out of storage just for the visit today?

“That was painted when we were in Germany,” Sophia explained to Aidan. “Frankie was seven. The local artist worked from a snapshot...”

Frankie stopped listening. Her mind had traveled back to those idyllic days when everything in her world had made sense. Her father had been a respected leader, her mother outgoing and friendly and involved with the community. Frankie had had a normal life and her body had cooperated every day. She hadn't known what real deception was, had no concept of scandal. Granted, she'd been seven and generally oblivious of anything beyond school and her young friends.

“You and Dad went to Austria for your anniversary that year,” she said wistfully.

“That's right.” Sophia cleared her throat. “How do you remember that?”

“I got to have a sleepover with Elise Stafford while you were gone.”

“You two were always getting into trouble.”

“That sounds like a story I need to hear,” Aidan said, raising Frankie's hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “Who's going to tell me?”

Frankie let her mother do the honors. She was too busy analyzing why the pieces and collections they'd gathered to maintain that sense of home were displayed here.

She'd expected a woman capable of throwing her husband to the wolves would have purged all the reminders or shipped them to her daughter. It wasn't as if Frankie had given her time to prepare for the visit, either. Hardly twenty-four hours had passed since she reached out from Victoria Colby's office.

Sophia, relaxed and in her element as hostess, offered them water or lemonade and shared a few of Frankie's childhood highlights with Aidan as if there'd never been any strife between them. Frankie wanted to snap and claw; she wanted to demand the truth. The words nearly tumbled free—
to hell with patience, charades, proper channels and procedures
. She had only one question:
Hey, Mom, why'd you set up Dad?

Except it would backfire. Her mother's stoic mask would slam into place and they'd be no closer to the source of information Frankie was sure they'd find somewhere inside Leo Solutions. Better to follow her mother's example, appearing to be one thing while carrying on as something else entirely in the shadows.

“Frankie?” Aidan bumped her knee with his.

“Pardon?” She forced her lips into a smile.

“Your mom asked about your back,” he said, giving her hand another squeeze.

“Oh. It's fine.” She hurried to elaborate when Sophia's face fell. “I'm running again.”

“Oh, Frankie, that's wonderful. I know that was an important goal.”

Her mother knew damn good and well the most important goal had been resuming active duty with the navy. Frankie smiled through the stinging bitterness of failure. “It feels good,” she said, playing nice. “I'll be able to dance at my wedding, too.” Though her father wouldn't be there to walk her down the aisle, she added silently.

“I can't wait!” Sophia leaned forward. “Tell me how you met.”

Here came another undertow. Frankie gripped Aidan's hand in both of hers, hoping he'd get the hint and dive in. They'd come up with a loose cover story, but she couldn't seem to get it started.

“We met on a case she was working for the Savannah PD,” he began. The way he told the story, she could see it in her mind. He made it sound as though he found her interesting and likable. Quite a feat, since she'd forced him into this engagement ruse. The man was excellent undercover and she owed him big for this. By the time he finished, she almost believed how much they loved each other, right down to an all-too-real startling rush of affection for him that soothed her nerves.

“Your daughter amazes me at every turn,” Aidan said, raising their joined hands to his lips once more. “I can't tell you how happy I am that she agreed to marry me.”

“This is wonderful,” Sophia gushed, right on cue. “What do you have in mind so far?”

“In mind?” Frankie jerked her gaze from Aidan to her mother.

“For the wedding.” Sophia laced her fingers together, bouncing a little in her seat. “We need to start planning.”

A bear trap locked around her ankle would be more comfortable. “I, um...” Frankie cleared the tight ball of dread out of her throat. Her mother was supposed to be enchanted by the romance, distracted by a future son-in-law. She was supposed to respect Frankie's space, not swoop in with talk of wedding plans. “I'm still adjusting to being engaged. The rest can wait.”

For the right guy and preferably for a time when she wasn't consumed with clearing her father's name.

“We wanted to tell you first,” Aidan added smoothly.

Sophia's delighted smile only grew brighter with every word Aidan uttered. “How did your parents react?”

“Well, they're in Ireland,” Aidan explained. “They sounded happy enough when I called.”

Sophia's smile retreated as concern filled her eyes. “You haven't met them?”

“Not yet,” Frankie said, improvising. She hadn't considered this wrinkle. “I look forward to it.” She glanced at Aidan, deciding his family must be wonderful based on him: smart and confident and wrapped in that sexy chiseled exterior.

Chiseled? Good grief, the game she'd started was fooling her. She tugged her hand free of his and pushed herself to her feet. Pretending to be relaxed and in love was making her jittery.

“Are you okay? Can I get you something?”

“I'm fine, Mom,” she said too quickly. “It was just a long flight.”
Play nice. Stay calm.
She walked toward the kitchen island and refilled her glass from the water pitcher Sophia had set out. “I tried to nap, but the hotel mattress was lumpy.”

“The girl could star in a modern
Princess and the Pea
,” Sophia told Aidan.

“I've noticed she likes things a certain way.” His eyes gleamed with amusement. “And I like making her happy.”

“We doted on her,” Sophia admitted. “Siblings might have helped, but it never worked out.”

“What?” This was the first Frankie had ever heard about siblings. “You tried to have more kids?”

“There's no need to be offended now,” her mother said with a sad smile. “Your father and I wanted a big family and we had high hopes, considering how quickly I got pregnant with you. But I never carried another baby past twelve weeks.”

How could the woman blurt out a personal confession in front of a stranger and yet not be honest with her own daughter about her husband's trial and suicide? Frankie shot Aidan a helpless glance. “I never knew.”

“It doesn't matter to me.” His kind smile loosened the knot twisting in her gut. Whoever he eventually married would be a lucky woman, on the receiving end of that kind of attention. “Our future is sure to have plenty of ups and downs.”

Truer words, she thought, her head still spinning with Sophia's latest revelation. Maybe she suspected Frankie's motives for showing up now, and this was her own form of diversion.

“By the time you were old enough to understand, we'd stopped trying.” Sophia was everything calm and open. “It was something I meant to discuss with you woman to woman, but we never found the time.”

“I get it.” Frankie gulped her water. “Aidan's right.” She couldn't meet his gaze. “I'm sure we'll have plenty of issues to work through along our way.”

“You're ahead of the game knowing that's part of married life,” Sophia agreed. “The doctors never suggested it was hereditary.”

First wedding talk and now kids? Frankie wanted the world to slow down so she could step off for a few minutes. It was too domestic and too strange, considering their last conversation and the resulting estrangement. “We'll cross that bridge when we get there, Mom.” She would
not
discuss reproduction in front of Aidan.

“Of course.” Sophia came to the counter and refilled her water glass, as well. “Why don't you two check out of the hotel and move in here?”

Frankie choked, coughed. “No. No, thanks.” She couldn't play the adoring fiancée role 24/7. “Mom, really, we're fine at the hotel.”

“I understand.” Sophia made an examination of the ice in her glass. “How long will you be in town?”

Crap, Frankie was blowing the happy-daughter-here-for-a-fresh-start routine.

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