Treasured by Thursday (Weekday Brides Series Book 7) (24 page)

All three women simply stared.

Gabi shook her head, left the kitchen, and found herself straight into the chest of the man in question. “Oh, thank God.” She looked up into his face and sprang back. “Noah.” Her skin crawled.

“Mrs. Blackwell.”

“What are you doing here?”

Cooper exited the kitchen, on his heels the three teasing women. Gabi took a massive step back.

Noah wore a suit, one similar to that of her husband. But the way he held his shoulders . . . the cut of his hair, and more to the point, the way her looked at her, was completely off.

She shuddered.

“We found her,” Judy said in Noah’s direction.

Gwen stopped laughing first.

Gabi didn’t offer an explanation. “What are you doing here?”

Noah looked beyond her. “Gwen, it’s been a long time.”

“Noah?”

Judy and Meg grew silent.

Gabi stood back as Noah greeted Gwen as if she were a long-lost friend. It stood to reason that if Hunter knew Blake, perhaps his brother knew him and his sister as well.

When Gwen hugged Noah, something in Gabi’s stomach turned sour. Hunter’s words rang in her head,
This is what he does. He shows up in the places I’m going to be . . . makes nice with those around me, and sprinkles doubt about my resolve on keep my distance from him.

Gabi waved Cooper to her side. “Find Hunter.”

Cooper frowned but moved to fill her request.

She said nothing as Gwen introduced Meg and Judy to Noah. Once she uttered the word twin, understanding filled the eyes of her friends.

Gabi wanted to quiz the man further on his presence, but Gwen seemed to think his attendance was acceptable, so she let it go.

Hunter pushed through the crowd and eased his pace only when he saw the people around her. His eyes shot to his brother and all conversation around them dried up like water in the desert.

“Oh, my.” Gabi couldn’t tell who blew out a breath, but she understood the desire. Seeing them close together was a shock to the system.

Neither man placed his hand out for the other.

Noah stood smiling . . . like a cat with a secret, and Hunter held tight control of his emotions.

“What are you doing here?”

“Paying my respects, brother.”

“Pay them . . . then leave.” Hunter’s deadly tone drew prickles all over Gabi’s skin.

Noah continued to smile as he broke eye contact with his brother and offered a nod to those who could hear him. Then he stared directly at Gabi. “A pleasure to see you again.”

Gabi grabbed Hunter’s arm to keep him in place as Noah turned and walked away.

“What the hell was that about?” Meg asked.

Gabi didn’t answer as she moved in front of Hunter’s gaze. “Hey.”

He finally looked at her.

He didn’t smile.

“He’s trying to get under your skin. Don’t let him win.” Gabi set her hand on his chest and felt his tight breath finally release.

Hunter captured her cheek in the palm of his hand and kissed her gently . . . briefly. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she whispered.

“For keeping me from killing him. I owe you.”

She laughed and leaned closer.

“Well,” Meg said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Seems I have more questions . . . and only a few answers.”

Instead of facing her friends, Gabi slipped a hand around Hunter’s waist as they walked away.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“That goes in the kitchen.” Gabi waved her hand in the direction of the door.

“It says bedroom,” Meg argued.

“I lied. When I was packing I mixed up the boxes . . . placed a heart on the box.” She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter, it goes in the kitchen.”

Meg lifted the box a second time and started back down the stairs. “I’m really thankful that most of the Tarzana household didn’t belong to you.”

Gabi grinned as she unpacked a box of bathroom essentials.

In a few minutes, Meg was back at her side. “We have some serious shopping to do in order to get this place looking like a home.”

Gabi glanced into the bedroom sans an actual bed. With everything exploding around them, furniture shopping didn’t make the list of things to do.

“So?” Meg motioned toward the empty bedroom. “Where is Hunter going to sleep?”

They hadn’t been together in days. Between his schedule and hers, there was very little time for phone calls and a simple text.

“It better be in here with me,” she said under her breath.

Meg nudged her.

Gabi shoved her back. “I really shouldn’t care about him as much as I do.”

“I’m trying to see the bad, Gabi . . . I really am.”

She shook off her thoughts and continued to fill the cubbies of the en suite bathroom with useless crap that might be better off in the trash. “He’s a good man . . . just doesn’t always know the right way to get what he wants without hurting people.”

Meg held still and stared. “Has he hurt you?”

Scared her . . . in the beginning. It didn’t take long for her to see under the facade that encompassed her husband. Even then there were flowers . . . playful banter between them that was only half meant in the space of a week. “It took me less than twenty-four hours to see the vital differences between Hunter and Alonzo.”

Meg hopped up onto the counter. “What was that? Other than the obvious hot factor.”

“Hunter is gorgeous.”

“Not as amazing as your brother . . . but that’s weird for you. Tell me what you see as different, other than the physical.”

Gabi cocked her head. “You sound like a counselor.”

“I’m sure I do. I just wanna know what you see. Then I’ll tell you what I see.”

Gabi went ahead and took a place on the counter next to Meg. “He’s driven. You can say Alonzo was driven, but I never knew the reason for his drive until it was too late. God . . .” Gabi lowered her head and shook it. “I shouldn’t be comparing the two of them.”

Meg placed a hand on her leg. “It’s OK. You were in love with Alonzo—”

Gabi shook her head. “No. I wanted to love Alonzo. I thought he was something he wasn’t. After I knew his secrets, I wanted nothing to do with the man. I know Hunter’s secrets . . . what drives him . . .”

“And your feelings toward Hunter are . . . ?”

She couldn’t solidify them . . . not with words. Not yet. “Do you know why he needed to get married?”

Meg shook her head.

Gabi popped off the counter and grabbed Meg’s hand. She led her into a room across the hall from the master suite. “I’m thinking blue walls . . . dark blue with stars on the ceiling . . .”

“I’m not following you.”

Gabi tilted her head toward the ceiling and smiled. “His name is Hayden. Not even a year old and already in the middle of family drama.”

Meg sucked in a breath. “Hunter has a son?”

Gabi wasn’t sure how much she should say. The house was wired with sound . . . the monitors already recording their movements.

“Let’s just say . . .” Gabi started, “Hunter’s need to marry wasn’t as selfish as I first believed.”

Meg moved about the empty room, her head deep in thought. “A family is a huge step.”

“Sometimes family just happens. Look at you and me. I love my brother but always wished for a sister. And here you are.”

“Do you even want kids?”

Gabi ran her hand along the window ledge. “My biological clock, as they say, has been ticking for some time. Before Hunter, I’d given up on relationships altogether and pushed booties and bottles from my head.”

“Women have babies without active fathers all the time.”

Gabi met Meg’s gaze. “I know that. My father passed away when I was in my teens, leaving Val to step into his role. What if I’d decided to have a child on my own and something happened to me?” She shook off the empty thought of a child growing up without any parent. “I couldn’t take that risk.”

“You have us.”

“I know. With Hayden falling into our lives, Hunter and I will both determine very soon if we’re parent material.” The thought should scare her, but for a reason she couldn’t say, it didn’t.

Meg stopped moving and hugged her. “Tell me the whole story, when no one is listening,” she whispered.

Gabi nodded.

When Meg stood back, her eyes were dusty with tears. “Val and I . . . we . . . I think I might be pregnant.”

Gabi’s jaw dropped. The hair on her arms stood on end and every happy cell in her body sang. “You think?”

Meg shrugged. “I’m meeting Judy later with the pee stick. Seems wrong without Val here . . . but.”

Gabi shrieked like a teenager laying claim to the star quarterback on the football team. She hugged Meg too hard. “I’m so happy.”

“I don’t know yet.”

She waved her off. “A woman knows.”

Meg laughed. “You sound like your mother.”

“My mother knows. She knows everything. Oh, Margaret . . . I’m so happy for you.”

“Your mom has been eyeing me lately.”

Gabi hugged her again. “When is Judy coming over? We need to celebrate.”

“It might be a false alarm.”

Yeah . . . it could be. Gabi didn’t believe it was.

“Italy was a bust.” Remington sat across from Hunter in a bistro in Hollywood. “The owners of the vineyards surrounding the property that still belongs to your wife had nothing to say about the property owners. Other than nasty things that I couldn’t completely translate, the general feel was one of disdain. As for Picano’s family . . . there is a mother who refuses to acknowledge that she had a son and a grandfather who was just as mortified that anyone asked about him. A younger sister, however, seemed to know she had a brother once . . . a rich one. But from what I could tell, she knew nothing about money in any account.”

“How could you tell they didn’t know about the money?” Hunter asked.

“No connections. Picano cut family ties early on. The only one who even cared I was asking around was the sister. If I had to guess, Picano still had a relationship with her at his death. But she was a college student when he died. She’s in debt to the tune of forty grand . . . a drop in the hat of what is in her brother’s account. If she had access, my guess is she wouldn’t have the debt.”

Hunter agreed. “So no family involvement.”

“Exactly.”

“Which leaves those he was dealing drugs with.”

Remington shook his head. “Dealing . . . no . . . smuggling. Different ball game. The amount of drugs this douche bag was shoveling proved he was working directly with the main guy. Whoever this guy is.”

“I need a name,” Hunter told him.

“Don’t we all. The guy they caught alive, Steven Leger, slipped and fell on a knife in prison before he made trial. Picano’s onboard staff were just as lucky with their short lives. Whomever Picano was smuggling with didn’t take prisoners.”

The chill in the room dropped to subtemperatures.
No prisoners
. . . he had arms that reached into the prison system and took out his enemies. How easy a target would Gabi be if this man wanted her dead?

“I need to step up Gabi’s security,” he muttered to himself.

“What’s that?” Remington asked.

“Nothing . . . listen, we need to find this man from a different angle. Drug smugglers from this part of the world are rich, right? Most of them are part of known cartels. We look into the players and reference those who dealt with people like Picano—”

Remington lifted both hands in the air and shook his head. “You don’t pay me enough, Blackwell. As it was, I felt eyes on me the entire time I traversed that forsaken country. I don’t need a target on my back by peeking into a multitude of drug runners. I’d tap into all those politicians you’re becoming so chummy with. Chances are someone in your circle knows a name or two.”

“Isn’t that what I pay you for?”

He shrugged. “Your friends won’t talk to me. I can tap into security files, but that wouldn’t be legal.” Remington lifted a mocking brow. “You’re not suggesting I do that, are you?”

Hunter wouldn’t direct the man to an illegal act . . . not with his words, in any event. “Would I ask that of you?”

Remington’s smirk said it all.

Even if Remington had a name, Hunter would need to use his connections to keep the drug smuggler away from his home. The thought of reversing the passwords that locked him out crossed Hunter’s mind. Chances were, however, Mr. Smuggler would avoid touching the money to prevent a trace. Or worse, look for deeper pockets and silence money. The last thing Hunter’s reputation needed right now was that of a man who gave in to blackmail.

Hunter pushed from his desk and stood. “I need dirt on Sheila Watson.” He pulled a notepad off his desk and scribbled the address he had for the mother of Noah’s son. “I have someone working on current habits, what I need is her past. And keep an ear out for Picano’s partners.”

Remington tucked the note in his pocket and offered a mock salute. “You’re the boss.”

Once Hunter was alone in his office, he lifted the phone and called his new security.

“MacBain.” Neil answered the phone with his name.

“It’s Blackwell. I want another set of eyes on Gabi.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Did you hear me?”

“Why?”

“I think she needs it.”

“You know, Blackwell. I’ve been doing this a long time. I’m sure you have enemies, but if you think there is
one
in particular we should be looking out for, I need to know who they are.”

Hunter felt a headache coming on. “I don’t have a name, Neil.”

“Tell me what you’re afraid of.”

“It’s not about me.”

More silence.

“It’s Gabi’s ex.”

“He’s dead.”

“Yeah, but whoever he worked with isn’t.”

“Wait . . . is there an actual threat? What aren’t you telling me?” Neil asked.

Hunter hadn’t told Neil about the bank accounts and drug smugglers when they set up Gabi’s security. “A hunch. One I have to listen to.”

Crickets filled the line for the third time. Finally, Neil gave an ultimatum. “We can do this one of two ways. You start talking now . . . or I put my very persistent wife on Gabi’s doorstep until we have answers.”

Hunter shook off his frustration with Neil’s tenacity before he opened his mouth. “I found two offshore accounts . . .”

By the time he was finished delivering the information, Neil’s silence was like talking to a rock, and Hunter became increasingly uneasy.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” Neil asked.

“I wanted to deal with this myself. I’ve found the more people that know the details of my life, the more tabloid exposure I find myself explaining. I can deal with me, it’s Gabi I’m worried about. She doesn’t need the grief of her past haunting her.”

“Doesn’t sound like she has a choice. I’ll put another man on her while I make a few calls. I’m also going to put a tracking device on her car.”

“It’s in the shop.”

Neil’s short laugh made Hunter pause.

“Why am I not surprised.”

“She backed into a pole,” he found himself explaining.

“Yeah, I’m sure she did. It’s better this way. I’ll have one of my guys following and one behind the wheel. A personal driver doesn’t attract attention like a bodyguard. And the less questions the tabloids will ask.”

“Good.”

“Then I’ll make a few phone calls. My friend in the Coast Guard might have a name to attach to Picano’s.”

Hunter wasn’t expecting that. “A name is all I need.”

Neil huffed. “You need more than a name . . . and you need to start putting some trust in those around you.”

“Trust is earned.”