Scar places two red hotdogs on buns and hands them over. Hutch hesitates, and the big guy exhales a laugh before adding another one to his plate.

  “For a minute, I thought you were trying to put me on a diet.”

  “Your pants still fit,” Scar quips.

  “If they didn’t, what would happen?” Hutch stands to his full height.

  “You’d be too big for your britches.” Scar’s voice is low and husky with a touch of an accent.

  Hutch chuckles. “Asshole.”

  Watching them interact like brothers, I have so many questions, especially when I turn to see my sister’s eyes on us as she takes a bite of her oversized hamburger.

  Our dogs are prepared with coleslaw and onions, and Pepper’s on her knees at the table. “Gross!” Mustard is on her nose as she voices her loud objection. “I hate coleslaw!”

  “You’ll have better taste when you’re bigger.” Dirk pulls her wet pigtail, and she bats his hand away.

  “Old people like nasty stuff.”

  “I can’t decide if I’m offended because I’ve been food-shamed or because she thinks we’re old.” I lift the hot dog and carefully take a big bite, doing my best not to get coleslaw in my lap.

  “Everybody over thirteen is old to Pepper.” Hutch finishes his dog in two bites and is already picking up the second one.

  “Slow down.” I lean into his shoulder. “You’ll give yourself indigestion.”

  He taps a dab of mustard on my nose. “I’ve got a stomach of iron.”

  “You did not do that!” Laughing, I take a napkin to wipe the yellow smear off my nose.

  Hana sits across from me, and it’s the first time in a long time I remember seeing her laugh. I’d almost say she’s happy, and I want so much for it to last.

  “I got another letter asking me to teach at the college.” Dirk straddles the bench facing Pepper as he downs two hotdogs and starts on a burger. “I’m thinking about saying yes this time.”

  Hutch nods as he polishes off the last of his dog. “Computer science? Data analysis?”

  “Criminal psychology.”

  My ears perk up at his answer. My undergrad degree is in psychology, and I didn’t know Dirk had experience in the field.

  “Do it.” Hutch nods, lifting a leg over the bench to straddle it, pulling me closer to his chest.

  His chin is at my shoulder, and fizz tingles in my veins. I look up at him, and when our eyes meet, I see something different in his–calm resolve, ownership. It warms me to my toes.

  Without hesitation, he leans forward to plant a brief kiss on my lips. “I’m going to help clean up. Take your time.”

  He stands gathering our plates, and I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s gorgeous and fierce and kind and so damn sexy. His broad shoulders stretch the gray tee, and his ass flexes in his nylon swim trunks fanning the heat rising into my chest.

  “Pepper, bring me your trash,” he orders, and when I turn back, I catch Hana watching me.

  Clearing my throat, I try to be cool. “Want to walk down to the water?”

  “Sure.”

  We stand, and I wrap my cover up around my body, feeling exposed and transparent as glass. We reach the end of the pier, and our feet scuff softly over the smooth boards.

  “I’ve never seen you this way with a guy.” Hana slants her eyes up at me.

  Exhaling a little laugh, my conditioned response is to be defensive, tell her she’s imagining things. I don’t get silly over men. I’m serious, focused, independent.

  “I might be falling in love with him.” A thrill of fear hits my stomach, and I turn to face her. “It’s terrifying.”

  I’m blinking fast, and her eyes shine. “I don’t think you need to be afraid–not from what I’ve seen.”

  “I can’t help it. I never thought I’d meet anyone I could feel this way about. Not ever.”

  “I’m not sure you could in our old life. But here, things are different.”

  “It’s all following the plan.” A loud, craggly old voice calls to us from the bank.

  My heart jumps to my throat, and a little yelp escapes my lips when I see him.

  Standing on the end of the pier, dressed in a khaki, seersucker suit, leaning on his cane with his short-brimmed Stetson hat cocked to the side, is the man I came here to see.

  I take off running, my feet thudding on the wooden planks beneath me. His low chuckle greets me before I’ve made it to the grass, and he holds out his arm for a hug.

  I race straight into him, wrapping my arms around his narrow waist as my cheek presses to his bony chest. “Uncle Hugh.”

  24

  Hutch

  “Victor Petrova died of a heart attack.” Hugh’s hands are clasped behind his back, and he paces the small space between his desk and the bookshelf in his office. “He was found in his bed in his Manhattan apartment, cold as a stone. No evidence of foul play.”

  Blake’s brow furrows, and her expression mirrors my response. “I mean, at his age, he could’ve had a heart attack. It just seems so…”

  “Wrong?” her uncle asks.

  “I was going to say anticlimactic, but we can go with that.”

  “I don’t believe it. Foul play was definitely involved. My guy in Kazan has been digging deeper, following the money. Seems our crooked accountant racked up a lot of debt–mostly to the wrong people.”

  “Which would explain the embezzlement,” I muse.

  “It doesn’t explain how you got his book.” Blake cuts straight to the chase.

  Hugh exhales his confession, “I arranged to have it stolen and brought to me. I wanted to see if I could figure out what he did with your inheritance.”

  “Stolen by…” she urges.

  “No one you know.” His expression is grim. “No one anyone would know… or will know.”

  “It was the body.” My voice is quiet, and he nods briefly.

  Pressing my lips together, another piece of the puzzle snaps into place.

  “Stop!” Blake is on her feet. “Too much has happened, I’ve juggled way too much garbage for anyone to keep secrets. What body?”

  The old man rounds the desk, placing both hands on her shoulders. “Calm down. It’s none of your friends or acquaintances–”

  “Don’t tell me ignorance is safety. I’ve learned over and over these last few weeks knowledge is safety, and I need to know everything.”

  Lowering his hands, the old man returns to his chair. “He was a minor player. His name was Andre something. Anyway, he got me the book, but when he delivered it, he got greedy. Figured he could make some money off it. He basically said I’d have to pay a certain amount above what we agreed to before he’d give it to me. I told him no, and he became violent.”

  “He threatened you?” Anger tightens my chest. “This is why you should only run shit like this through me. We’re ready to handle it.”

  “Well, my bodyguard handled it–a bit too forcefully, but it’s done now.”

  Blake turns wide eyes on me. “You knew about this?”

  “I knew a piece of this. Not everything.”

  She stands, crossing her arms, but her uncle extends his hand. “Blake, please.” He starts to chuckle. “I’ve worked so hard getting you two together. You can’t fly off the handle over things you didn’t know.”

  “Worked so hard.” She shakes her head, and I knew it.

  “You did all this for us to be… in the same place?” I can’t say together. It’s so specific and way too soon.

  The old man tilts his head thoughtfully. “I did all this because I’ve gone as far as I can with these guys. I’m too old and sick to fight gangsters, so I’m passing it to you two. I think you make a great team–in more ways than one.”

  “So you invited Hana and me here, then you disappeared without a word so I’d be forced to stay with Hutch?” Blake’s voice rises.

  “How else could I get you to see what I’ve seen for years? I wasn’t sure what it was going to take, but I’m glad to see a little forced proximity worked nicely.”

  She exhales a frustrated growl. “You scared us to death.”

  “Terror is a potent aphrodisiac, yes?” Her uncle winks, and I can’t even with him.

  With a low exhale, I start, “You old–”

  “Don’t say it!” He laughs, cutting me off.

  “Where did you go?” she insists.

  “I have a friend with a place near the Biltmore. He’d been offering it to me for years, and I figured it was a good time to follow up with him.”

  “Biltmore.” Blake drops into her chair again. “You ditched us to go to the Biltmore?”

  “I left you in very capable hands.” The old man lifts his chin, giving me a fond smile. “I’d trust Hutch with my life, even more with my two beautiful nieces.”

  One beautiful niece in particular, who he’s been taunting me with for years. “I’m glad you’re back safely.” Calm is in my voice. “Still, it wasn’t right to scare us that way. You almost gave Norris a heart attack.”

  “I’m sorry, my boy. I tried to send you the message that I was fine as soon as possible, without attracting unwanted attention.”

  “But I don’t understand.” Blake’s brow furrows. “How did you know we were coming?”

  “That was the easiest part. Once you checked in using the ticket I bought, I knew you were on the way, and I had to get out of the way so you could get together.”

  “Sneaky old man,” Blake grumbles, going around to hug him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

  “I love you. Your happiness is my highest priority.” He gives her a warm smile before turning to me. “Where do we stand on everything?”

  Shifting into professional mode, I run down the latest. We fill Hugh in on the secondary, blackmail scheme.

  “Dirk is monitoring the payment Blake transferred to the blackmailer. It’s possible they know we’re watching, because the money hasn’t moved. The account is a dummy–registered to a Jane Doe address in the Bahamas. We’ve set up an alert for any withdrawals, and I have a solid hunch on their point man in the states.”

  “Good work.” Hugh nods, but Blake turns wide eyes to me.

  “You didn’t tell me that. Who do you think it is?”

  “Scar figured it out after our last dinner together. Grisha is the Russian diminutive for Greg.”

  Her jaw drops, and she’s on her feet. “Greg is the blackmailer? But Trip said–”

  “I don’t think Greg is the actual blackmailer, but I think he supervises the money laundering for this phony Russian investment group. The blackmailer could be any one of his lower-level flunkies.”

  Fire is in Blake’s eyes, and I know what it means. Crossing the room, I take her hand, holding it firmly. “I know you’re angry, but you have to let me handle this.” She doesn’t answer, her jaw doesn’t relax, and I feel her vibrating with adrenaline. “Will you trust me, Blake?”

  Her chest rises and falls with two deep breaths, and I know it’s a big ask. I know she’s spent a lifetime protecting her sister. It’s not an easy habit to break.

  Blinking several times, she drops her chin. Her jaw relaxes, and she nods slowly.

  “Yes.” It’s only a whisper, but it seals her place in my heart.

  A low chuckle from behind the desk draws our attention.

  I look up to see Hugh sitting back in his chair with a smug grin. “It’s all following the plan.”

  Eccentric old coot. He’ll be the death of us.

  Several hours later, Blake’s standing on my porch looking out at the oak trees. “I can’t possibly go out after all that’s happened.”

  It’s a warm spring night, and she’s wearing a high-necked blue dress that leaves her arms bare. Her dark hair hangs in a wavy ponytail over her shoulder, and an ivory shawl is wrapped around her upper arms.

  “We can’t sit around just waiting.” Stepping closer, I place my hand on her waist. She’s so beautiful in the periwinkle twilight. “I’d like to show you off.”

  Her full lips press together, and pink brightens her cheeks. “I guess I should get to know the nightlife in Hamiltown a little better. Can Hana come? I’d like to see her having fun in a healthy way.”

  “Of course. I’ll message Scar to get his ass out of the house.”

  Slim Harold’s is a knock-off of a shag club in Myrtle Beach. It’s a restaurant with a dance floor in the center. A thin layer of sawdust covers the floor to make it slippery for the dancers. They’re mostly old couples who can still do the dance to the sixty year-old “beach music,” as they call it. “Rave On” by Buddy Holly comes from the old jukebox in the corner playing original, vinyl records.

  “This is amazing.” Blake leans on my arm as we enter the semi-crowded place. “It’s like they’re doing the twist but with little twists mixed in.”

  “I thought you might like it.” Leaning over, I kiss the side of her head. “I’ll get us a few drinks. What would you like?”

  Her nose wrinkles, and she’s too cute. “A margarita?”

  “Be right back.”

  I’m on my way to the bar, when I see Hana rushing up to her sister. “Why didn’t I bring my camera?”

  She’s in a white lace dress that reminds me of the bikini she had on earlier today. Holding her sister’s arm at the edge of the dance floor, she seems so young and innocent. I have to remind myself appearances can be deceiving.

  Scar joins me on the way to the bar, and I lift my chin. “I guess you know what you’re doing.”

  He orders a Yuengling and a coke then turns to me with a neutral expression. “I’m doing what you said, making sure she’s safe.”

  “Nothing more?”

  “She’s not twenty-one.”

  “For a few more months.” My eyebrow arches, and I’m not sure I’m buying it. “She’s over eighteen.”

  He nods slowly. “In many ways, she’s older than that.”

  A hunger is in his gaze as he watches the girls while I wait for Blake’s margarita. They’re at the edge of the dance floor watching the gray-haired couples spin and kick to the classic rock-n-roll music.

  Scar and I don’t talk much about our private lives, but in the past, I heard rumors he was into darker activities behind closed doors.

  “Hana’s been through a lot.” I stop short of warning him to be careful with her.

  He might be into darker kink, but I’ve never heard any complaints. In fact, he’s had a few past liaisons who didn’t want to let him go.

  “For now, I’d like to see her healthy.”

  The bartender slides the margarita to me, and I take my beer. Tapping my bottle against his, I make a short toast. “To happier times.”

  A brief nod is my only response, and I follow him to where the ladies are waiting.

  25

  Blake

  “Hey, girl, haay!” Carmen’s familiar voice slides up beside me. “I haven’t seen you since the ball game.”

  “Hey!” I give her a brief, side-hug while I watch the older people dancing on the floor at Slim Harold’s. “How did I not know about this place? It’s amazing.”

  “You think so?” Her nose wrinkles. “I guess I’m used to it. Still, it’s the best place for thick-cut bologna sandwiches and fried corn on the cob.”

  My eyes widen, and I almost laugh. “I’ve never even heard of those things.”

  “And you call yourself a town founder.”

  “I’m not really. We only visited a few times when I was young, and we never came into town. My parents were too snobby.”

  Hutch joins us, handing me my margarita then sliding his warm hand along my waist. It’s possessive and perfect, and I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  Carmen arches her eyebrow at me. “I need a strawberry margarita with some sugar on the rim.”

  Rolling my eyes, I take a sip of my tangy drink. “See you in a minute.”

  Scar hands my sister what looks like a Coke, and I glance up at Hutch. “It seems like she’s trying.”

  His eyes are on his partner. “Pepper talks about her nonstop. Hana’s teaching her to develop photos the old-school way, in a dark room.”

  “She’s such a fun little girl. What happened to her dad?”

  Pausing, he takes a sip of his beer, and I study the sexy line of his square jaw. “Judy came home pregnant, and never left. She didn’t tell us his name, and no one ever came looking for her.”

  “I’m sorry. I assumed he died. I didn’t know.”

  “No need to apologize.” He gives me a tight smile. “We’re doing our best to make up for it.”

  Tucking my hand in his arm, I rise on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You’re doing an amazing job. I mean, for starters, this is the first time I’ve seen you have a drink since we’ve been here.”

  “It’s Friday night.” The music changes, and he takes my hand, leading me to the dance floor. “We need to blow off a little steam.”

  The jukebox fires up a Backstreet Boys hit, and my eyebrows rise. “Open-minded group.”

  The older dancers don’t miss a beat, twisting and shuffling their feet to the rhythm of “I Want It That Way.” I hold his shoulder, watching them move.

  “It’s a good song.” He pulls me closer, humming in my ear. “Tell me why…”

  Heat tickles my lower stomach, and I think he is definitely my one desire.

  My eyes drift around the rustic establishment. It’s a mix of young and old patrons, couples of all varieties. Sawdust covers the floor, and the menu consists of burgers and bologna. It’s about as far from a posh New York City gala as you can get, and I kind of love it.

  “I wish I could do that fancy dance.” An older couple beside us take turns twirling under each other’s arms.

  “Maybe I’ll teach it to you one of these days.”

  “I’d like that.” Our eyes meet, and another charge warms my stomach.

  “It’s pretty simple. Like most things around here.” He’s watching me, and I can’t take my eyes off him. “Is that something you think you might like?”

  Blinking back to the setting, I think about his honest question. Hana stands beside a hightop table with Carmen, who’s belting out the lyrics to the song, and Scar sits on a stool watching her take photos of the crowd with her phone.