I’m feeling pretty silly and childish when I notice Norris hurrying to the front door. My brow furrows, and I don’t remember hearing the doorbell ring or anyone knocking.

  When he opens it, my stomach drops. Two men I do not want to see saunter in like they own the place.

  “How’s it going, chap?” Trip slaps Norris on the shoulder like they’re old pals when they’ve never even met. “We’re looking for Blake and Hana.”

  “Trip?” I’m frowning as I close the distance between us. “What the hell?”

  “Blake! And a kind hello to you, too.” Trip arches an eyebrow at me, and my lips tighten.

  “Sorry, you caught me off-guard.” I hold out my hand, and he takes it, stepping forward to kiss my cheek. “How are you doing? What are you doing in Hamiltown?’

  “Coming to see you, of course.” He sets his Hartman luggage on the landing, and Norris moves it to the side. “New York is boring without you, without Debbie.”

  “New York is a pain in the ass right now.” I haven’t seen Greg Peters in a month. He kisses my cheek as he surveys the entrance to my uncle’s home. “Thought we’d check out this family estate you’ve got. It’s better than I expected.”

  “What did you expect?” I arch an eyebrow, doing my best to appear strong as always.

  “Not this. Where’s the taxidermy?”

  “Fresh out, but you can go pheasant hunting in the halls.” I quip.

  “Do I smell coffee? I could use a cup if so.” Greg drops his Gucci duffle on the marble landing, and I wince at his casual treatment of Norris.

  The older man doesn’t even seem to notice, lifting Trip’s heavy suitcase and Greg’s bag. “I’ll just take these to the bedrooms.”

  My eyes cut from the bags to the butler, and I sigh. “They can stay in the east wing, Norris. I’ll move Hana’s and my things into the west bedrooms.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He dutifully takes the two bags.

  “We’re not putting you out, are we, love?” Concern is not in Trip’s tone, and I remember why I didn’t feel like contacting him.

  “Come with me.” I lead them past the living room, past Uncle Hugh’s study, to the kitchen. “I assume my sister told you we were here?”

  Trip gives me an entitled smirk. “We keep up with each other.”

  It’s not a straight answer, but Greg distracts me, scanning the walls and looking in my uncle’s study. The combination of his light hair and brown eyes so dark you can’t see his pupils gives him a sneaky look. I’ve never trusted Greg Peters, and his interest in my uncle’s estate makes me want to shut the door and lock it.

  Unlike monochromatic Trip, who reminds me of a labradoodle with a drinking problem. I’ve often wondered if he takes anything seriously.

  “I’m surprised you’ve never had the gang out here,” Trip complains. “Shame on you for hiding a mansion, stables… What else does this dump have? Hot tub?”

  We’re in the kitchen, and I take down two additional mugs. “It’s my uncle’s full-time residence, so I don’t think descending on him en masse would be very polite.”

  “Where is your uncle now?” Greg’s hands are in the pockets of his brown slacks, and he watches my expression.

  I smile and lie through my teeth. “Uncle Hugh is visiting some friends for a few days.”

  “Too bad, we’ll be gone before he returns,” Trip takes a flask from his inside jacket pocket and spikes his coffee with what looks like whiskey. “We came to retrieve you for the Belmont Gala. Your mother will stroke out if you and Hana aren’t there. Irish?”

  He holds the flask of whiskey to me, and I shake my head. “No thanks.” I lift my mug, taking a sip of straight coffee. “I’m not going to the gala this year.”

  “What the fuck? Why not?”

  “I haven’t heard from Mama in weeks, and I don’t feel like a charity for a racetrack is where I should be with Debbie’s situation unresolved.”

  “Where else would you be? Here?” Trip argues, but Greg remains silent, watching me. “We can’t mope around ad infinitum while we wait for the cops to tell us what we already know.”

  “What do we know?” I snap, immediately hating that I’ve shown my emotions.

  Now they know how much I care, which is always dangerous around fucking Greg Peters. Yeah, some friend group. Why do I want to go back to New York again?

  Trip puts his arm around my shoulders. “Suicide’s a bitch. So much blame. So many unanswered questions. She didn’t even leave a note.”

  “It doesn’t make sense.” My voice is quiet, and I blink back the sudden heat in my eyes.

  Greg’s measured voice ends it. “Being together will help everyone get past what happened. Go with us to the gala.”

  He’s completely void of emotion, which pisses me off, and I wouldn’t be caught dead at the fucking Belmont Gala with how I feel.

  Still, there’s no point in arguing. “If you don’t want breakfast, Norris can show you to your rooms. Hana’s at the stables taking pictures. I’ll let her know we have company.”

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I lift it to see a text that closes my throat. You’re running out of time. $500K, six days. -P

  “Everything okay?” Trip’s eyes are on me, and I quickly school my expression.

  “Of course. So you’re staying one night? Two? I need to run to town to be sure we have enough supplies for all of us.”

  “Shouldn’t your uncle have enough supplies if you’re staying with him?” Greg watches me, and I shift uncomfortably.

  My discomfort skyrockets when the back door leading into the kitchen opens, and two big guys fill the room.

  “What’s going on here?” Hutch towers over me with scary Scar right behind him.

  He’s angry, and I silently pray he doesn’t say anything about my uncle’s house being off-limits to visitors.

  Overprotective is a sexy look on Hutch. I want to be glad to see him after our night of passion, but the text on my phone is burning a hole in my hand and Greg Peters has me on edge.

  “Greg, Trip, meet Hutch Winston and Oscar Lourde.”

  “Interesting.” Trip’s eyes cut from me to Hutch and back again, and he crosses his arms like he knows something. “What exactly are you doing here, B?”

  Greg doesn’t say a word, and a knot twists in my throat.

  Hutch’s green eyes laser into mine, and I can barely breathe. “We need to talk. Now.”

  10

  Hutch

  Sunlight shines bright through my windows, waking me.

  I slide my hand across the cold sheets to find Blake is gone, and I’m fucking pissed. My hard-on only adds fuel to the fire. Then I see the clock.

  “Mother fucker.” It’s after nine, and I should be in the office.

  I can’t believe I overslept. Lurlene is my backup for getting Pepper to school, but I feel like a king-sized asshole for not being up to tell her goodbye. Last night was clearly mind-blowing in more ways than one if I forgot to set my alarm.

  Moving fast, I’m showered, changed and heading out the door with a coffee in my hand in under twenty minutes.

  Scar is at his desk when I enter the small space we use for an office. It’s pretty basic, glass double doors with Winston & Lourde hand-lettered across the center. Inside we each have a desk and a tower of filing cabinets at the back wall that holds the few paper documents we keep.

  Dirk maintains the massive computer server and firewall that’s the brains of the office. Dirk would say he’s the brains of the office, and while he is our resident computer genius, he’s full of shit. We all bring different strengths to the group.

  I’m more old-school. I have four years of military experience, a smartphone, and a gun. I can bench-press 400, and my word is my bond. I’m also the leader, having founded this firm five years ago.

  Scar looks up from his laptop, and his wolf eyes narrow. “You seem very relaxed today.” He leans back, in his chair, giving me a rare grin. “Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you more relaxed. Does this have something to do with your tardiness?”

  “Fuck off.” I can’t believe that asshole is hassling me for being late for the first time in… ever. “Did anything happen overnight?”

  Other than my world shifting.

  In addition to Dirk’s work on that ledger, I’ve asked the local sheriff’s department to update us on cars coming in and out of Hamiltown the night Hugh went missing.

  “Actually, I’ve got something you’ll want to see.” He rises to his full six-foot-four height, two inches taller than me, and I frown.

  “Something off the tip line?”

  “Nope.” He pulls out a linen envelope. “Slid under the door.”

  My stomach drops. I’d recognize that stationary anywhere. Snatching it out of his hand, I breathe through the tightness in my chest. I should probably consider what it means that I care more about Hugh van Hamilton than my own damn dad.

  Opening it, I see brown ink on cream paper, and in Hugh’s unmistakably precise handwriting:

  You’re on the right track.

  Keep going,

  Hugh

  “What the fuck?” I look up at my partner.

  “Turn it over.”

  I do as he says, and I read in small script at the bottom corner, Tell Norris I have my pills.

  My eyes narrow, and I don’t know if I’m unreasonably furious or completely disbelieving. “Did you check it out?”

  “I was waiting for you.”

  “Let’s go.”

  We hustle out to my truck, and I drive us the short distance to Hugh’s house. A white Mercedes I don't recognize is parked in the circular drive; otherwise it looks the same as always.

  Exiting the vehicle, I motion to Scar. “No need to disturb Norris. I have a key to the back door.”

  He lifts his chin, and we walk around to the kitchen entrance. I stop in my tracks, surprised and annoyed at the sight that greets me. Blake is inside serving coffee to two well-dressed assholes I vaguely recognize from her New York crowd.

  Her eyes widen when she sees me, and I quickly take in her appearance.

  She’s fucking hot in shredded jeans that hug her curves and a thin, gray sweater. It has a deep V-neck revealing a lacy black camisole, and my fucking dick responds to the sight. A lock of long, dark hair hangs over her full breast, and I want to slide my hands over it. Hell, I want my hands all over her sexy body.

  Opening the glass door, I level my eyes on hers. Her smile is cautious, and the tightness in my chest increases.

  “What’s going on here?” I almost say Who the fuck are these assholes, but I figure that might escalate things too fast.

  “Hutch,” she quickly introduces all of us, and I file the names away.

  I’ll deal with these unexpected guests later. At present, my entire focus is on Blake and letting her know about Hugh. “We need to talk. Now.”

  The brown-haired guy makes a quip, but I’m not listening. Last night changed my feelings for her. She’s more than a pampered Upper East Side party girl. Blake is deeper, she has a heart, and I want to save her from that old world–if she’ll let me.

  “Okay.” Her voice is quiet, and she follows me out of the kitchen and down the short hallway to the formal dining room.

  “Can we see your uncle’s bathroom?”

  “That’s an odd request.” Her nose wrinkles, and she looks around the house. “I have no idea…”

  Shit, I feel like a jerk. Of course she doesn’t know where it is. It’s only the third time in her life I remember her visiting this place.

  I catch her hand, stopping her movement. “Where’s Norris?”

  Her hand moves in mine, turning so our palms slide together, and it feels good–before she quickly pulls it away. “I asked him to set up the guys in the east wing of the house. He’s probably still there.”

  We’ll discuss that bit of information in a minute. “Take me to him.”

  Norris leads us to the master suite, and I rush ahead to the bathroom, taking out Hugh’s pill bottles from the cabinet and quickly scanning the dates and the quantities in each one.

  Pouring the contents into my hand, I do some quick math and glance up at Scar. “Fourteen days.”

  He nods, and we turn to Blake, who’s frowning as she watches us. Her eyes flit from me to Scar. Norris is beside her just as confused.

  “What’s going on?” she asks, and I move closer.

  “A note was left at the office. It’s pretty brief, but it seems your uncle is okay. He’s alive, and hell, I don’t even think he was kidnapped.”

  I hand her the paper, and her eyes widen. She scans it quickly before looking up at me again. “You think it’s really him?”

  “It’s his handwriting.” I gently turn the page to the back. “And there’s this.”

  She reads the postscript aloud. “Tell Norris I have my pills.”

  “Oh, thank heavens.” We all three look at the old butler, and I realize Norris is the one most in danger of fainting. Luckily Scar is right beside him if he goes down.

  The old fellow presses his palm to his chest. “I’m so relieved. He has his pills.”

  Blake returns to me. “I don’t understand–so he planned to be gone for fourteen days?”

  “Or he took what he figured he needed and left the bottle behind.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  Exhaling slowly, I give the only answer that fits. “So nothing would appear disturbed.”

  “You mean… He knew someone would come looking for him?” Fear is in her eyes, and I want to pull her to me.

  I want to take her in my arms and tell her I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt her. But we have an audience, so I keep it professional.

  “It’s hard to know what he was thinking, but at least we can breathe easier knowing he’s alive and well.”

  And somehow he knows everything we’re doing. I glance around the house, wondering where he planted the cameras. My gut says his office.

  “Where’s Hana?” Scar’s voice is sharp, and Blake jumps.

  “I think she’s at the barn taking photos. She said something about the dawn… I don’t know, but it’s been a while.”

  He leaves us without a word, and Norris does a little bow. “I’m so relieved, Mr. Winston. Thank you for this. I’ll just finish preparing the gentlemen’s quarters. It’ll be ready for them in the next few minutes, and Miss Blake, I’ll be sure the west wing rooms are stocked.”

  “Thank you, Norris.” She sees him out, and when the door closes, she rests her forehead on it. “He’s right, I guess. This is good news.”

  Stepping forward, I do what I’ve been wanting to do all morning. I catch her waist and pull her to me. She turns in my arms and places her cheek to my chest. Tilting my head, I inhale the soft scent of rose in her hair.

  My voice is quiet, and I slide my palm gently up and down her back. “I don’t know what the hell he’s doing, but it seems your uncle has a plan.”

  She pulls back, looking up at me. “Does knowing he has a plan make it better?”

  “It’s better than when I opened my eyes this morning. A lot of things are better.”

  Her lip disappears into her mouth, and she steps away, crossing her arms over her waist. “Are they better? Everything feels more complicated to me.”

  I don’t like the sound of that.

  “Hey, look at me.” I touch her cheek, and her pretty eyes meet mine. “Are you regretting last night?”

  “No. Of course, not.” Her shoulders relax and she waves a hand. “I just didn’t want to make any assumptions, and with the way things are… that’s all.”

  I feel like that’s not all by a longshot, but we can start here. “I’d like to see you again–if you’re interested.”

  “I’m interested.”

  I like how quickly she says it, and I’m sure my amusement is in my eyes. “Now, who the fuck are those assholes in the kitchen?”

  Exhaling a laugh, she rolls her eyes. “Not my first choice of house guests, believe me.”

  “What do they want?”

  “According to Trip, my mother sent them to check on me. Or, if you ask Greg, New York is a nightmare right now. Who knows which is the real story?”

  “How long are they planning to stay?”

  “A few days? They’re headed back for the Belmont Gala.”

  “Is that still happening?”

  “As a matter of fact, my mother is very involved in that annual event. She’ll be pleased to know you’re so interested.” She’s teasing, and I let my eyes roam her beautiful face. I like seeing her smile.

  “I guess I’m not the gala type.”

  “To be honest, I’m not feeling much like it myself this year,” she sighs. “I was just heading to your house to collect our things. Hana and I’ll stay here while the guys are in town.”

  “I don’t like that.” I don’t know if I’m being possessive or overprotective or both. “We still don’t know what’s going on around here or why Hugh left the way he did.”

  “I can’t have Trip and Greg here alone, and I’m not telling them what’s really going on.” She gives me a little smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll be safe.”

  “Keeping you safe is my job.” I hook my thumbs in her belt loops and pull her against my chest. “I don’t want you out of my sight.”

  Gray-blue eyes meet mine, and she slides her hands up my shoulders. “It’s only a few days. I can’t exactly throw them out.”

  “Can’t you?”

  Rising on her toes, she lifts her lips to my ear. “You’re not jealous are you?”

  It registers straight to my cock, and I push her back against the door. “I don’t get jealous. I get what I want.”

  Leaning down, I cover her mouth with mine. Her pillow lips part, and she tastes like sugar as her tongue curls with mine. I slide my hands from her waist, circling my thumbs over her pointed nipples, and she emits a soft whimper.

  I’m hard as a rock, tracing my lips to her eyebrow and into her hair. “I can’t fuck you if you’re here.”