Mine

by HelenKay Dimon

  “Natalie wasn’t exactly happy to see me either.” Rick frowned. “Threatened to kill me more than once. Seemed mighty connected to Gabe.”

  “Not a surprise.” At least not the first part. Natalie might be on the run, but that woman was capable. She also had a loyalty streak that rivaled Gabe’s.

  But the last part piqued Andy’s interest. Gabe’s attraction to her wasn’t exactly a secret. He took this assignment, one he would normally outsource to someone on the staff. He insisted he be the one to communicate about Natalie’s case. That he be the one to run this operation. The guy practically drooled when she walked in the room.

  While Andy liked to see a spark of life in Gabe, that road could lead to some very dark places. Andy knew from experience. His feelings for Eli once had him so wrapped up that when the guy left, Andy checked out. Literally. Had to go away for a while. The whole scene knocked him sideways. He saw hints of the same thing between Gabe and Natalie.

  “But dangerous,” Rick pointed out.

  Andy couldn’t argue with that, so he didn’t really try. “So was going out there without any warning.”

  “I needed him to know where we were.”

  “Uh-huh.” Now that sounded like nonsense. It ignored pretty much every rule of surveillance. Also skipped over the part where Andy could contact Gabe. Rick didn’t need to take this one on personally and fly back and forth to Montana in something like eighteen hours.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Rick asked, but there was no real heat behind his words. Not this time. Not like usual.

  But that didn’t mean Andy thought they’d worked through their issues. A battle loomed and he dreaded its coming with every cell inside him. “I’m just waiting to see what you say next.”

  “He’s still pissed off about Brandon and my request for a DNA test.”

  There was no way a trained operative, a guy who could read people and interrogate in ways Andy didn’t even want to think about, could be this clueless. “Now there’s a surprise.”

  Rick shook his head. “I don’t understand why you two don’t see how important this is to me.”

  And that said it all. That was the part about being a father by blood only that Rick could not ferret out and deal with in any real way. “You mean to Brandon.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Andy closed the file and put it on the stack on the left side of his desk. “Look, you did your duty by Gabe. I’ll take over now.”

  “Fine.” Rick stood up and headed for the door. Didn’t actually get there but stood nearby, as if ready to bolt any minute.

  But the concession came too easy. Andy had never known Rick to agree and walk away. Just to be safe, he poked around. “Did you contact the CIA as you promised you would?”

  “I have a meeting scheduled this afternoon.”

  Andy wasn’t convinced they were saying the same thing. He’d call Eli and Bast just to be sure they kept applying pressure. He’d take care of the subterfuge on his end. Fake a plane crash, because how fun would that be. He’d faked a lot of things, but never this.

  But Rick still needed to play his part. “Be convincing.”

  Rick nodded then turned to the door. His hand slid off the doorknob as he spun around to face Andy again. “Gabe is gone, isn’t he? He took Natalie and left Montana already.”

  Now there was the smart, quick-thinking brother he knew. “Wouldn’t you have done the same thing?”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess you guys still have something in common.” Andy wanted to say that showed some hope, but he knew it didn’t.

  “This assignment still could go sideways on Gabe.”

  Andy knew what Rick was saying, but there was no way he’d ask for help. Gabe would kill him. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “And if you can’t?”

  Andy went with the stark truth. “I’ve never let him down before.”

  SIXTEEN

  Gabe had dealt with jet lag on a regular basis for most of his life. He could get off a plane and go right to work. He didn’t need time to acclimate or whatever regular people did. But he must be getting old, because the only thing he could think about once the wheels touched down at the private airstrip in Virginia was hustling Natalie back to the house and into bed. Or maybe that meant he was still young. He wasn’t sure.

  He reset the alarm as soon as they stepped into the foyer. He expected her to say something. When he told her he lived in a log home in the woods of Virginia, she’d winced. Tried to hide it, but he saw. She likely feared a lack of running water and a water heater partially constructed with a coffeepot. Fair enough since he forgot to tell her the place constituted a fortress.

  It could not be described as rustic. Built into the side of a mountain and surrounded by a motion-sensor-activated fence, it had four thousand square feet of stone and wood aboveground. A place designed to his specifications with big rooms and high ceilings. Stuffed with comfortable furniture and housing a state-of-the-art kitchen. An indoor theater and a game room rounded out the specialty items.

  He didn’t exactly skimp when it came to his home life. He liked to pretend it was all for Brandon, but truth was Gabe liked toys, too. That explained the hot tub and pool out back. Not that she could see either right now since he used the program on his phone to keep the place, including the grounds, dark. The contained and secure work area and communications center downstairs would also remain a mystery for a bit longer.

  Then there were the photos all over the house. Those posed a problem. As soon as she looked at them she’d know Brandon was not some elementary school kid. That would lead to a discussion, possibly a lecture, and he’d never get her into bed. And that was the goal—her hair fanned out across his sheets. That needed to happen now.

  Right now she stood at the edge of the flagstone entryway and stared into the great room. She seemed frozen in place.

  “You okay?” he asked, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer.

  She glared at him. “Did you forget to mention something?”

  Everything. The whole place. The reality of the normal life he tried to live outside of the office. The seven televisions spread through the rooms so Brandon never missed a second of a football game. Well, that was mostly for Brandon.

  Gabe went with an abbreviated response. “No.”

  “Well, Mr. Mountain Man.” She took one step down into the great room. Then another. “You said you lived in a cabin.”

  He didn’t bother turning up the lights. She could wait and explore tomorrow. He was fine to leave the arguments and debating until then. “I never said that. You assumed.”

  Her eyes widened. She looked fully awake now. “You let me.”

  “Okay, yes. That might be true.”

  Dealing with her had been a lot easier when he drugged her to fly. Not that he would do that again. She’d never let him get away with that move a second time, especially now that the reason for it had disappeared. She’d long stopped fighting with him about sticking close.

  She squinted and headed to the fireplace. He knew he had to stop her. The mantel served as a showcase for Brandon. Kid photos, prom photos. Gabe didn’t exactly hide Brandon’s life inside these walls.

  “I know you want to look around.” Which was just about the last thing in the world he wanted, so he hooked her arm and turned her around until she faced him. Ran a mental inventory, trying to remember where all the wall photos of Brandon were in the house.

  “Yes.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her in closer. “We should sleep.”

  “I’m thinking about kicking you.” But her hands went to his chest and she didn’t fight back.

  He frowned. “I’m not really into that.”

  “You’re loaded.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” When she snorted he tried again. “I work hard, to the extent that makes the bank account fatter, so be it.”

  “
I had visions of her and your son living in this tiny two-bedroom.” She started telling a tale straight out of Dickens, complete with begging for food.

  Gabe decided he probably needed to trim the beard and buy something other than a plaid shirt. Clearly he came off as if he made six cents per year, which was not really the look he intended. But he did get her theory. It wasn’t far off from the life they led in the beginning. Being an eighteen-year-old father didn’t exactly make a big house and fancy cars a possibility at first. Even now he kept that sort of thing to a minimum. Except for the house. He loved the house.

  “Honestly, we did struggle for a very long time.” And he’d vowed to make things better for them and worked his ass off until he did. “I don’t come from money. I don’t flaunt what I have now, but I earned it all. Legitimately, I might add. Since I deal with stress, this is the place I come to burn all that off.”

  She tapped a finger against his chin. “I feel like you’re leaving something out.”

  That list was so long, but there was only one item on it that he cared about at the moment. “Did I mention my big bed?”

  “About a thousand times on the flight here. Even the pilot of that private plane heard you.”

  Gabe hadn’t been going for subtlety, so that wasn’t exactly news. Plus, the guy worked for him. Mostly contract work, but his piloting skills weren’t up for debate. Gabe paid what needed to be paid to secure his services and his loyalty, not to mention his dignified silence.

  “Want to see it?” With the hope of winning her over, Gabe started kissing her neck. Hell, they could make out on the couch for all he cared, but later.

  “This conversation isn’t over.” But she tilted her head to the side to give him greater access to that soft skin.

  Relief washed through him. “Of course not.”

  “I’m going to figure it out.”

  “I’d rather you spend your time studying me.” He lifted her off her feet.

  On cue, she wrapped those long legs around his hips. “Naked, I presume.”

  Now they were back on track. “Definitely.”

  SEVENTEEN

  The man exhausted easily for someone who spent most of his military life waiting in fields for the enemy to arrive. But Gabe being asleep provided Natalie with the perfect opportunity to wander. She refused to hang around in bed, staring at him until he woke up.

  Though that did have some benefits. In sleep, some of his rough edges smoothed out. He didn’t look so stern and couldn’t sound unbending with his mouth closed. And that dark beard against crisp white sheets was something to behold. But curiosity with a side of hunger called, and she planned to answer.

  She slipped across his big bedroom—emphasis on big—and stopped at the dresser running along the side wall. Not to be confused with the sitting area or the couch or the connecting room she could barely make out without the sun rising or a light on, but it looked like a deep cave. The walk-in closet, she presumed.

  She picked up the T-shirt he’d abandoned on the floor. Held it to her nose and inhaled his scent. Something spicy that reminded her of the outdoors. Not being one to stumble around naked in strange houses, she put on the shirt and it dropped to her upper thigh. Very upper.

  For some reason being clothed, at least a little, made her snooping feel a bit less sleazy. Not that she planned on looking through drawers and cabinets. This really was a what-does-this-place-look-like run.

  She slipped into the hall and for a second debated looking around on the upper floor. She decided that great room had to lead to a kitchen and she’d start there first. Her feet thudded against the shiny floor. She smiled at the contrast between her pale skin and the dark hardwood.

  She’d probably be able to see her nearly white legs in the dark but she didn’t need to rely on that. The pale gray morning, just before dawn provided a dull splash of light as she rounded the first set of stairs and hit the landing to the next. He had carried her up those without breaking a sweat or starting to pant. The man sure did impress.

  The steps emptied out into the great room. The space was aptly named. It stretched across a good portion of the back of the house. Outlined by glass doors, it had an open feel. The soaring ceiling and two seating areas did the rest. And she didn’t even know what to think about the massive television over the fireplace. The thing looked six feet long, but she doubted that could be right.

  She might have done the calculations and measuring if she hadn’t spied the photographs all lined up on the mantel. So many of them. Her eyes refused to adjust so she stepped closer. Tiptoeing for some reason she couldn’t really explain. It wasn’t as if she was doing anything wrong.

  She’d wound her way around to the back of the large sectional. There was something odd about those photos. She needed to get closer to see.

  “Good morning.” The deep, booming male voice rang out in the quiet room.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun around, her hand going to her hip for her gun but she grabbed nothing but cotton. And not much of it.

  She had no trouble focusing now. The last traces of sleep vanished. She stood facing the shiny sprawl of the kitchen with its light gray walls and stainless steel everything. That and a kid, but not a kid. An almost-man. One right on the verge where his body had just transitioned from gawky to muscular. Tall with a sleepy look on his amused face.

  The black hair and blue eyes might be different, but the way he held himself. His mouth. “Brandon.”

  She actually might shoot Gabe. He let her think that his son was young, really young. That he got shipped off and forgotten. None of that appeared to be true.

  “I know you didn’t expect me to be here.” Brandon sipped on a cup of what looked like coffee.

  The smell hit her. Then she took in the light and the toast on a plate in front of him. How had she missed all of those signs on her laser-like walk to the fireplace? “That is only the start of my confusion.”

  He smiled, and the rest of the resemblance fell together. “Okay.”

  She tried to do the math in her head. She sucked at guessing people’s ages. She knew Gabe’s—thirty-six—but no way was this kid only thirteen or whatever would make sense in terms of Gabe raising him.

  She tugged on the hem of the shirt again, which seemed to be getting shorter by the second. She wanted to run back upstairs and find pants. Maybe punch Gabe, but no way was she giving this kid a show of her ass. “I’m not sure how to play this.”

  He laughed. “Me either.”

  That didn’t make much sense. He must have been here before, meeting a woman who clearly spent the night with his father. Bumbling his way through the awkward morning-after introductions. “Why?”

  “Dad doesn’t bring women here.”

  Her response, anything logical or smart, slammed to a halt in her brain. “He . . . oh.”

  Footsteps sounded right before Gabe stepped into her line of vision, holding something in his hand. He winked at her, then went right up to his son. “Look who’s home. This is a surprise.”

  “Clearly.” The smile that broke over the kid’s face looked genuine and warm. “Hey, Dad.”

  Gabe wrapped an arm around Brandon’s shoulder and pulled him in close. Touched a hand to his hair in a gesture that struck her as almost reverent. Like something he’d been doing forever, to build the bond between them.

  She didn’t understand this type of family. She knew about fear and carefully chosen words. No one surprised anyone. Her mother never raised her voice and her father always did. He screamed about everything. Seeing the kitchen a mess with a butter knife sticking to the countertop and crumbs falling on the floor would have set her father on fire. Days later they’d all be paying for not cleaning up that one time before he came downstairs earlier than usual in the morning.

  Not here. Gabe held up the knife with two fingers and dumped it in the sink as he lifted an eyebrow at Brandon. The kid shrugged. Even grumbled when Gabe reached over and took a big bite of the toast s
itting there.

  Gabe dropped whatever was in his hand on the countertop as he chewed then swallowed. “Forget to tell me something?”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Brandon said after a quick glance in her direction.

  As if these two cornered the market on shocks this morning. “Me, too.”

  “Eyes stay up.” Gabe ended his point by rolling his.

  Brandon nodded even as he struggled to follow that order. “Yes, sir.”

  With an ease that came from living together, Gabe reached around Brandon and grabbed the coffeepot. They worked in sync, shifting this and moving that until Gabe held a mug. “In case you skipped over the introductions or shock held your minds captive, Brandon, this is Natalie. Natalie, my son, Brandon.”

  He made it all sound so light and carefree. Never mind that they’d been holed up in a cabin in the packed snow, fighting with Rick and threatening the man’s employees. She had to question if Brandon had any idea about the danger his father wallowed in every day. Kind of made her wonder why Gabe took the risk.

  She shook her head to clear away the haze descending on her. She had so many questions and knew now wasn’t the time for any of them. Then she picked up on the silence. Noticed them both staring at her.

  She tugged the edge of the shirt a little harder. Bent over just a bit more to hide whatever needed hiding. “What?”

  “You did know he had a son, right?” Brandon asked.

  “I thought you were eight.” She just sort of blurted that out. Once she did there was no way of calling it back.

  His eyes widened. “Sure, ten years ago.”

  Gabe leaned in, brushing his shoulder against Brandon’s. “She’s doing the math.”

  “Everyone does. He was seventeen when my mother got pregnant. Eighteen when I was born.” Brandon balanced his palms against the counter and smiled at her. “He’s been giving the condom speech ever since.”

  “You’re lucky I love you.” Gabe ruffled Brandon’s hair before tipping his mug in her direction. “Coffee?”