“Let’s get you back home.”
Mick
“You kissed her? The Rock Beach Princess? The girl who doesn’t remember you saved her?” Miles didn’t bother to hide his astonishment nor his soft pitiful chuckle.
My jaw tightened. Christ, I was a damn fool.
The memory of Friday night was like a favorite country song I couldn’t get out of my head. Or my blood. And it was on repeat, the chorus a harsh reminder of why she couldn’t be mine.
She deserved so much better.
The problem was, kissing Jules was like a shot of whiskey—burned like hell going down, knowing she was out of my league, but hell if all those sayings weren’t right; it was always the things you couldn’t have that kept you coming back for more. And Jules Vandelsen was the sweetest intoxication.
“I didn’t save her.”
“Horseshit. You shot the bad guy.” He tapped a finger on top of the corner table at Roasters where we were sitting and supposed to be going over jobs for the upcoming weeks. “And now you kissed the girl.”
I grumbled, tipping my head back against the wall. I probably should’ve been banging it instead and knock some damn sense into my thick skull.
“I’m a moron. I shouldn’t have kissed her.” My fists tightened in my lap.
“I’m going to stop you right there, little brother.” I kicked him under the table. “First off, you should always kiss the girl.”
“Not like this. Christ, one minute I’m tellin’ her that it’s important to be true to yourself and the next—hell, the whole damn time I’m lyin’ to her.” I laughed deprecatingly. “Plus, she’s too damn good for me. I mean, just look at her.”
“I did.” Miles smirked. “I don’t know about too good, but she’s definitely too pretty for your mug.”
“You know we’re identical twins, right?” I grumbled.
He laughed. “Seriously though, I’d tread carefully, brother.”
His expression fell. Since we moved here, it was rare that he was serious like this about personal things. Miles didn’t do relationships—for himself or others—not after what happened back in Texas with Leslie. It had been almost a year and he still wouldn’t go into detail about why they’d split—or why he’d come to me only a few days later saying we’d needed to uproot and move the business ASAP.
“Why?”
“You kiddin’?” His sneer was barely tempered. “Look at who she is, man. Look at where she comes from—her lifestyle. I know we’re doin’ real well out here, but we will never do well like that.” He shook his head and rubbed a hand over his mouth in frustration. “I’m not sayin’ that you as a person aren’t good enough. You’re too damn good for her—for all of us where I’m concerned.”
“Miles…” I began to chide him, but he waved me off.
He was content in his misery, and that was probably what hurt the most when I saw my brother like this.
“I’m just sayin’ that even if you’re good people and she’s good people, you can have good fish and good birds, but that doesn’t mean it’d be easy for them to make a life together.” He folded his arms over his chest and met my gaze.
I wished I could argue with him, but he wasn’t wrong.
Birds didn’t swim and fish couldn’t fly, but damn if it didn’t change the way I wanted her.
“Who said I wanted easy?” I tried to lighten the mood—and the weight on my chest; my joke only managed to crack half a smile on both our faces.
“I just don’t want to see you get used… or hurt.” His face shuttered. “One of us needs to keep a whole heart around here; you’re our only shot.”
I winced at the strain in his voice. I was a big man. There were a lot of things that didn’t hurt me like they’d hurt other people half my size. But the pain in his voice I felt just as sharply as a knife through my flesh.
This wasn’t my brother. Not the one I’d grown up with. This was the broken man who continued to break himself into smaller and smaller pieces rather than risk being whole again.
“Miles—” I broke off as the door dinged and Ace Covington walked through.
He paused and addressed me with a curt nod. “Mick.” Turning to my brother, he added, “Miles.”
“Ace.” I sat forward, scanning his stony, determined expression. Not that he had too many lighter ones, but it was evident this wasn’t a coffee run or a social call. “Do you know something?” I demanded.
“I came to talk to Laurel and Eli.”
I stood so fast, the table wobbled because I wasn’t my usual careful and knocked into it.
“I’m coming with you,” I challenged. There was no way I was being left out of this situation now.
Ace’s nostrils flared, but then he grunted in agreement and stalked toward the back of the business.
My mouth thinned as I looked back to my brother. I wanted to continue our conversation—not just for my sake but for his. But when Miles tipped his head in Ace’s direction, signaling I should go, I realized our conversation had come to an end whether I got up from the table right now or not.
“Drinks later?” I asked as I stood.
“I’ve gotta head up to Monterey to get some Brazilian Cherrywood for the McKinley’s house. Probably won’t be back until late.” He rose and pulled his baseball cap on. “I’ll just catch up with you tomorrow.” He stepped around me and I followed him as he strode over to the counter.
“Hey, Eve, can I get this in a to-go cup?” he called.
I stuck around long enough to watch as Eve blushed and assisted him. Meanwhile, Miles leveled her with a charming smile—one I’d seen a thousand times work on just about as many women. If anyone needed to tread carefully around here, it was him. Eve wasn’t the kind of girl he normally went for—the kind of girl looking for just a fling.
“Mick?” Laurel popped her head in from the hall and motioned for me to head up.
“Comin’.”
I followed her into the back making a mental note to have a talk with my brother about flirting with the warm-hearted barista. Eve was a sweet girl and, from the look in her eyes, what she wanted wasn’t something my brother was capable of giving right now.
Through the small kitchen in the back that was soaked with the scent of freshly roasted coffee, there was a small storage room off to the left where Laurel had set up one of the old fifties-cafe-style tables from before Roasters’ remodel so it could double as a meeting room.
“So, where are we?” Laurel asked just as we took seats on the old metal and plastic chairs that squeaked under my weight.
The petite, red-haired woman was determined as all hell to find out who and what was still at risk.
“We have reason to believe the Crown Cartel is coming here,” Ace began.
“To Roasters?” she squeaked.
Ace shook his head. “To Carmel.” He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. “Blackman was their scout. With him gone, I thought we’d maybe see some low-levels cropping up next, but our sources say the head of the cartel—the Council, as they are called—is going to be paying Carmel a visit.”
“Why?”
Ace’s jaw ticked. “Based on what we know—which isn’t a whole helluva a lot—they aren’t just looking to run drugs through the town, they want to move several parts of their operation here.”
My stomach tightened.
It didn’t take long to fall in love with Carmel and the way the town and its residents made the seaside escape feel like home. There was no doubt it wouldn’t take much illegal activity to destroy even a strong-rooted community like this one; and Carmel didn’t have the big-city resources to keep them away either.
If this were Texas, the whole town would be armed and ready to stand up for what was theirs—and what was right.
But it wasn’t.
This was California—the place where I couldn’t even tell a woman I’d saved her life because if it ever got out, I’d be sent to jail for being a hero.
“They don’t
have resources like they do down south,” Eli spoke next. “It doesn’t make sense for them to do that.”
“Between the turf wars among the mobs and cartels and gangs, LA is being ripped apart into unprofitable shreds. The cartel wants to expand, and they want to do it with smaller, satellite cells rather than fighting for the same markets.”
“But Carmel—”
“Carmel Cove is quiet and unsuspecting,” Ace continued forcefully. “It is close to Monterey and the port. It has enough longtime local businesses that can be turned into fronts. It’s close enough to Frisco to attract the highly powerful and extremely wealthy crowds—the ones willing to spend money on everything they have to offer.”
“What do you mean everything?” Laurel asked. “Like selling other drugs?”
“More than that,” he begrudgingly confirmed. “Dex thinks they’re also involved in weapons and information.” His face darkened. “And human trafficking.”
We all sat back in our chairs, nausea and disgust rolling through each and every one of us at the thought of human trafficking happening in Carmel Cove—a place that had become a safe haven for those trying to turn their lives around, those who could be easily duped or taken without too many people to take notice.
“Oh, God. But no one here would…” Laurel trailed off.
“No one?” He turned to her. “Not the businessmen or the politicians or the movie stars, or the trust-fund babies who visit here, who come to golf at Rock Beach or rent out the mansions along the seventeen miles of Rock Beach Drive?”
The mention of Rock Beach made my fist clench until my knuckles whitened. All the kinds of people he mentioned—they all came for the greens at Rock Beach. And if Jules was at the center of that world, it meant she was at the center of the dangers Ace warned of.
“And if they set up a base here with those kinds of customers, it has the potential to make the Epstein ring look like amateur hour.”
“What are we going to do?” Laurel muttered, shaking her head in dismay.
“Is Jules still in danger?” I demanded, leaning forward. “Because that’s what I’m hearin’.”
Three sets of eyes turned to me, but hell if I cared if I was being obvious about it, she was my only concern.
“None of this is confirmed,” Ace grunted, rubbing along his jaw. “What we have is like footprints in the sand. It could lead somewhere or it could all wash away into nothing, though I don’t think that’s going to happen. But I told you I’d let you know when we found something, and this is what I’ve got.”
“Ace, what about Jules?” Laurel repeated for me, her forehead creasing with worry over her cousin. “Should we tell her what happened? Should I make her come stay with me?”
The ex-SEAL thought for a moment. “Would she?”
Laurel’s gaze dropped for a moment. “I don’t know. Probably not.” She sighed. “She wouldn’t want to hurt her parents, and they’d probably insist she was safe with their security and all that.”
My blood stampeded through my veins. “The security that let her get kidnapped the first time?” I bit out bitterly.
Ace shot me a sharp stare. “Then no. Aside from a general sense, we don’t know what their plans are. Telling her what happened, getting her to stay off the resort, getting her parents involved… it’s all shots in the dark that could make things worse until we know more.”
I swore under my breath.
“I know,” he said specifically to me. “You think I want to tell all of you to keep lying to her? Trust me, I don’t. But we need to tread carefully with this, and in my opinion, after Blackman’s failure, they won’t target her like that again.”
My eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”
“They’re not looking to make scenes—that’s the last thing you want for an operation trying to run under the radar. And Jules? She’s high profile in Carmel. Not to mention, Rock Beach is what attracts their clientele. The last thing you want to do is piss off the man who owns it by fucking with his daughter.” He cleared his throat. “In my opinion, Blackman fucked up. He failed at securing Roasters as a front and took matters into his own hands to try and fix it. And I think if you hadn’t killed him, they would have for the mess he made.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
The corner of Ace’s mouth twitched. “I’m not. But if you warn her, then she becomes a target. Her family becomes a target. And it’s a lot harder to keep someone safe from a criminal whose name and face we don’t know.”
Ace knew what he was doing. I could see it in his face, and, rationally, I knew it, too. But, for some reason, it didn’t ease any of the worry I felt nor the thrum of protectiveness that buzzed like a live wire through each of my nerves.
“So, what do we do?” Eli broke in.
“We start where we are and do what we can: watch and wait and learn.” Ace’s response didn’t go over that well, though there wasn’t much other option. “It won’t be long. With Blackman dead and the information we have, they’ll be coming soon; they’re eager to get their operation up and running.”
Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.
All I could do was think how to protect her—even if Ace didn’t think she was in immediate danger.
“At least, Jules shouldn’t be in their line of sight,” Laurel said with relief as she stood and put a comforting hand on my shoulder though it didn’t have its intended effect. “Thanks, Ace.”
The military man stood and nodded his head, hands clasped in front of him, and Eli and I followed suit, murmuring our goodbyes.
“Mick, hold on a minute,” Ace instructed before I could walk out.
Laurel glanced at me over her shoulder before exiting the room with Eli, leaving Ace and me alone by the table.
“I don’t know what the deal is between you two, but I’m tellin’ you once more that I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be around Jules,” he informed me curtly as soon as the others were out of earshot.
I took a deep breath and drew up to my full height. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as intimidating since Ace was about the only other guy in a fifty-mile radius who came close to my size and had the military training to far exceed any difference.
“Look, I get your concern. I appreciate it. But she would’ve remembered by now, number one, and number two, this is my life I’m riskin’, I know I can’t tell her—”
“First,” he cut me off and stepped into my space. “It’s not only your life. I lied to the cops for you. I testified to shooting that motherfucker. So, if this goes south, you’re not the only one who’s in a fuck ton of trouble for it.”
I grunted, admitting it was the truth.
“But two, that’s not why I’m telling you to steer clear.” His face hardened and his voice dropped. “I’m cautioning you because when those motherfuckers come up here with their fancy cars and drug money designer clothes, they’re coming because there’s a place where they can fit in. And people like that don’t just show up at Rock Beach unannounced or without a welcoming committee.”
My vision went red. “You think—”
“I don’t think anything because I have no proof of anything,” he said through clenched teeth. “What I’m telling you is what experience has taught me; you don’t build a new center of operation without having friends on the inside or exploiting fear.”
“You think Rock Beach is going to be involved with them,” I insisted defiantly. “Not just be a damned vessel.”
“I think that it’s not smart to cavort around enemy territory and risk yourself and your girl when we have no information.”
I didn’t correct him when he called Jules my girl; it would’ve been a waste of breath.
His right eye twitched but otherwise the man was a stony, emotionless mask. “For everyone’s sake, if someone there—owner… guest—is connected, it would be better for you to stay away.”
A heated stare down trapped us for several seconds before Ace turned, swearing under his
breath, and left without another word.
Running a hand over my mouth, I looked for signs of smoke that blew from my nostrils with each frustrated breath.
I wasn’t going to stay away. No fuckin’ way.
I didn’t care how much sense it made that Jules would be the last person they would target. I cared that criminals were thinking to use her home for their own purposes. I cared that people close to her might be involved with the cartel.
Other regular guests. Staff. Her parents.
Her family couldn’t be involved. Not willingly. Because if they were, that meant they’d willingly betrayed her.
With a strangled grunt, I stalked out of the room and flung open the back door to Roasters. Planting my hands on my hips, I gasped in heaving breaths of fresh air and tried to refocus over the turmoil in my gut.
Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.
My brother could take his explanation and shove it. Jules might be a bird and I a fish, but I would do whatever it took to keep her safe—even if that meant leaping out of water and risking my own life.
Jules
If I ever thought things could go back to the way they were, I was wrong.
“Mrs. Potts?” I peered into housekeeping’s main office, searching for the middle-aged woman with the toothy smile and kind eyes.
“In here, Miss Jules!”
My brow scrunched as the muffled voice drew me toward the back closet. Pushing the door open, I found her arms flailing through the mass of housekeeping uniforms the hung from rods.
“Is everything okay?” I wondered as she finally appeared through the wall of navy fabric.
“Oh, yes,” she huffed, smoothing her own uniform and cap down. “Jolie forgot her uniform—again—so she borrowed a spare, but then proceeded to leave her set of keys inside the spare. Or at least I hope she did because otherwise that means she left them in one of the guest rooms and that, I don’t even want to consider right—” she broke off and shook her head. “Sorry, dear. How can I help you?”
Bespoken: An Opposites-Attract Standalone Romance (Carmel Cove Book 2) Page 10