Matchless

by Brynley Bush

  I look around the table, but both Beckett and Griffin are shaking their heads.

  “My only contact with Gavin was tying him up and sending him to jail,” Griffin says wryly. “I doubt I’m his favorite person.”

  Beckett lets out a breath. “I don’t know,” he says seriously. “At one time we were friendly, but since our last encounter involved me knocking him unconscious…” His voice trails off.

  Everyone is silent, and then Emma says quietly, “I can talk to him.”

  Beckett’s expressive brown eyes narrow at his fiancée. “No, Emma,” he says brusquely. “He tried to kill you. You’re not going anywhere near him.”

  “But we were friends,” she says convincingly. “At least some part of that friendship was real. Maybe he feels bad for what he did, especially since Camille ultimately betrayed him. This could be a way for him to make reparations.”

  I don’t want to get in between what is obviously going to be a point of contention between Beckett and Emma, but as their lawyer, I have to make sure they all know what this would mean to the success of their case.

  “If Gavin testified against Camille, it would make our case,” I say quietly. “I could go with Emma and we could just see if he might be willing to help.” I add reluctantly, “It would probably be best if neither of you go.”

  Beckett and Griffin exchange a look. I can tell neither one of them likes my suggestion.

  “He is behind bars,” Griffin points out finally. “He can’t hurt them. And it could mean the difference between Camille benefitting from dad’s lifetime of research or not.”

  Beckett’s scowl is terrifying enough that I immediately look away, my gaze automatically seeking out Griffin, who smiles at me reassuringly. Emma isn’t as easily intimidated.

  “It will be okay,” she says quietly, slipping her hand into his. “Please let me do this.”

  Something passes between them that I don’t quite understand, but Beckett finally sighs and says, “Okay, but I don’t like it.”

  Griffin and Beckett both insist that they will drive us to the jail where Gavin is serving his sentence, and we make plans to meet up in the morning. Once that’s decided, the discussion turns back to the case and both Dr. Black and Beckett speculate on who might have funded the grant. Both men believe it’s likely being funded by one of the medical schools or an individual with a lot of money who has a personal interest in finding a cancer cure.

  “We can’t rule out that Camille is somehow involved,” I warn. “Your contract should protect your ownership in the research data to some extent, but it’s not airtight. I’ve already talked to Griffin about this, but have the two of you thought about trying to synthesize a drug that mimics the guanabana seeds, even if it’s just isolating one molecule that can be derived in a couple of steps? Then we could file for a composition of matter patent and Camille couldn’t touch any of the research for seven years.” Noticing the elder Dr. Black’s skeptical look I add, “It wouldn’t have to take the place of the natural drug. You can run the clinical trials of the natural product at the same time and just sit on the synthesized drug.”

  Beckett looks at me approvingly and I feel my face flush. He and Griffin obviously got the same dominant male genes.

  “That definitely bears some consideration,” he says, looking at his dad, who nods thoughtfully. “What do you think?”

  Dr. Black says, “We can try. That’s the problem the pharmaceutical companies ran into years ago. They couldn’t do it. But maybe the seeds are different. It may be worth a shot.”

  As the conversation moves to Beckett and Emma’s upcoming wedding and Drake’s impending visit as the current leg of his tour ends, I look around the table at this family of devastatingly good-looking men who have all dedicated themselves in one way or other to making the world a better place, and I can’t help but wish for that one breakthrough to protect the work of these amazing men.

  I feel Griffin’s eyes on me and look up to find him staring at me. I smile and he winks, and in that moment I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

  Chapter Fifteen

  After Beckett and Emma leave, Griffin and I exchange another chaste kiss under the watchful eye of Agnes and I go to bed alone, aching for the feel of his arms around me as I fall asleep. I wake up Saturday morning, shower, and dress in the conservative black tailored suit that I brought for the hearing on Monday. I want to make it clear to everyone from the prison guards to Gavin that I’m acting on behalf of the Blacks. I can’t afford to do anything that can negatively impact our case, which means being totally above board.

  Apparently both Black brothers also share an affinity for small sports cars, so Griffin and I drive the four-door rental car to pick up Beckett and Emma. Although Griffin has told me that Beckett is a successful urologist, his penthouse apartment in a refurbished warehouse near downtown, although classy, is probably the least opulent of the houses the men in this family own. From his apartment, we make the almost one hour drive to Humble, a city north of Houston where the jail is located, and I quickly realize that Texas is as car dependent and traffic heavy as California is, if not more so.

  The four of us talk easily on the drive, and I learn that Emma grew up in San Diego, which gives us something in common besides a weakness for tall, bronzed men with a predilection for being in charge. Emma and Beckett tell me how they met, and I love the dynamic between them as they talk. His somberness is balanced by the light-hearted way she teases him and they are obviously extremely happy together.

  Beckett becomes more brooding the closer we get to the jail, and I can tell he’s worrying about Emma. As we pull into the parking lot of the bleak-looking building, both men offer last-minute instructions, clearly unhappy about the whole situation.

  “We’ll wait here until you’re finished,” Griffin says gruffly.

  “It could take a while,” I warn. “If he even agrees to see us.”

  “We’ll be here,” Griffin repeats adamantly, kissing me hard before I get out of the car. “Be careful, sweetheart.”

  Emmaline and I enter the facility and check in with the uniformed officer at the front desk, telling them that we would like to see Gavin Villareal. As we each hand him our driver’s license, he says in a monotone, “Are you on his visitor list?”

  Emma looks at me, stricken.

  I pull out my business card and hand it to him. “Ms. Hart is a friend of Mr. Villareal’s and I’m an attorney,” I say smoothly. It’s a bit of a white lie since I’m sort of implying that I represent Emma, but it seems justifiable under the circumstances. “We have a court date on Monday and Mr. Villareal may have some information that would be helpful for our case. Would you at least ask if he’d be willing to see us?” I plead, flashing him what I hope is a winning smile. He studies my card and then writes something down.

  “Alright,” he says finally. “I’ll check.” He consults a clipboard and then says to us, “Mr. Villareal currently has a visitor. You ladies are welcome to wait over there.” He nods toward a waiting area filled with mostly women and children. “Once he’s finished, I’ll tell him you’re here. There’s a mandatory fifteen-minute wait period between visitations, so it may be awhile.”

  “Thank you so much,” I say appreciatively.

  We make ourselves as comfortable as possible in the hard plastic chairs in the waiting area, and Emma helps herself to a cup of muddy-looking coffee while I text Griffin to update him on the status of our visit.

  “How did you meet Gavin?” I ask Emma curiously as she sits down next to me, a steaming Styrofoam cup in her hand.

  “Not long after I met Beckett, he invited me to attend the American Cancer Society gala with him and everyone was supposed to dress in medieval costumes. Gavin owned the costume shop where I got my dress.” She frowns a little. “He was really sweet. It was kind of the last minute; actually it was just hours before the gala,” she admits with a laugh. “But even on that short of notice, Gavin loaned me the most beautiful pur
ple silk gown that he had just gotten in. He had it delivered to my house with jewelry to go with it and a sweet note. It was perfect. After that, we kind of kept in touch. I liked him. Then everything happened with the news leak. I’m sure you know the story. Camille made it look like I had leaked the confidential information to the press about Dr. Black’s research and Beckett thought I’d just been using him and his father.”

  Her eyes tear up. “It was horrible. I was totally in love with Beckett and he wouldn’t even talk to me.” She takes a deep breath. “In addition to owning the costume shop, Gavin also worked at a private, members-only club owned by one of Beckett’s friends. He knew Beckett was going to be there the night after everything happened, so he agreed to take me there so I could talk to Beckett. I don’t know how much Griffin has told you about that night, but when I got there Beckett told me we were over and asked Gavin to take me home. That’s when Gavin tried to find out where my research was, and when I wouldn’t tell him, he tried to kill me. Beckett arrived just in time to save my life. Gavin was arrested and other than when I had to testify at his trial, I haven’t seen him since.”

  “Wow,” I say. “Obviously you and Beckett worked things out.”

  She smiles the secret smile of a woman who is well loved.

  “It took him awhile to figure it out, but he finally realized I loved him and wouldn’t have betrayed him,” she says. “It turns out Camille had asked Beckett to meet with her and he had agreed to the meeting to try and find out what she was up to, but he’d insisted they meet at the club because he thought he’d be more protected there. When Gavin and I showed up at the club, Camille was already there. He had to pretend to still be angry with me so he could get the information he needed from her, and because he was afraid she would try to hurt me if she knew he was in love with me. Of course that happened anyway. I will never forget the moment when I thought I was going to die and Beckett burst through the door. He told me loved me as we sat on the floor in my house waiting for the police to arrive. He proposed six weeks later.”

  “You two are great together,” I say.

  “I’ve never been happier,” she says and her eyes soften. “I never in a million years would have thought I would fall in love again. After my divorce, I was afraid of everything, especially when it came to giving myself wholly to a man. I figured I would spend the rest of my life devoted to my job and raising my daughter. And then I met Beckett and he gave me the courage to face my fears and embrace the woman I had been hiding inside.”

  “Love does have a tendency to find you when you least expect it,” I agree. “I was perfectly content with my life until I met Griffin, and now I can’t imagine it without him.”

  With horror, I realize I have more or less just admitted to Emma that I’m in love with Griffin.

  “Please don’t tell him I just said that,” I beseech her. “He has been more than clear that with his job and some personal stuff he has going on, he’s not in this for a long-term commitment, and I’ve told him I feel the same. We’ve agreed to just be together for the time being with no strings attached. He would probably run for the hills if he realized I’ve fallen for him.”

  “Well that’s ridiculous,” Emma says with a frown. “He’s obviously in love with you too.”

  “You think?” I ask hopefully.

  “Definitely,” she confirms. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He just hasn’t admitted it to himself. Men can be so stubborn.”

  “That’s the truth,” I grumble, and we both laugh.

  “Oh my gosh,” Emma says suddenly, her voice hushed.

  I follow her gaze to a woman in an expensive looking ivory pantsuit, a black scarf, and black stiletto heels who has just emerged from the heavy double doors that lead back into the jail area.

  “That’s Camille Penworth,” she whispers. “I wonder what she’s doing here. I’ve got to tell Beckett.”

  She pulls out her phone and quickly types a message. She turns so her back is to the common area, shielding herself from the other woman’s view as Camille strides past us and out the door.

  “Do you think we should still try to talk to Gavin?” she asks. She glances back down at her phone. “I wish Beckett would text me back,” she moans.

  “Well, I think we still should,” I say. “But I don’t want to make that call if you think Beckett will be mad. He quite honestly scares the shit out of me.”

  Emma looks up in surprise and laughs. “I know,” she says with a decidedly female smile. “He can be pretty, um, authoritative.” She lowers her voice confidentially. “It’s actually one of the things I love best about him. I think it’s totally hot.”

  “Yeah,” I agree dubiously, “but I wouldn’t want to piss him off.”

  “That sometimes makes it more fun,” she says with a mischievous smile. “I know it sounds crazy, but I love it when he goes all dominant male on me.”

  I smile back. “It doesn’t sound crazy at all,” I admit. “Underneath that laid back exterior, Griffin is pretty dominant himself. It must run in the family. And although the feminist side of me completely disapproves, there is something delicious about giving yourself to a guy who knows exactly what he wants and isn’t afraid to take it.”

  “Precisely,” she agrees. She adds impishly, “Although sometimes it’s fun to make them work for it a little.”

  We share a smile of complete understanding.

  “Ms. Hart. Ms. Kingston.”

  We both look up as our names are called in a bored, monotone voice. The uniformed guard at the front desk is scanning the room. We both stand and walk to the desk.

  “I’m Emmaline Hart,” Emma says calmly, although I can tell she’s nervous. I try to telepathically send her some supportive vibes. I can only imagine how hard it must be to face the man who tried to kill you.

  “I’m Milena Kingston,” I confirm.

  “Mr. Villareal will see you both. You have fifteen minutes until visiting hours are over. No purses allowed. Feel free to use one of the lockers in the waiting area for your personal items. Go through the double doors and please remove anything metal that might set off the detectors. Officer Daniels will show you where to go.” He delivers his speech in the same monotone with which he called our names.

  We stow our purses in a locker and follow the female officer through the heavy metal doors, taking off anything that may set off the metal detector before passing through it. Because it’s a medium security prison, visitors visit inmates in one large communal room, and we’re shown to the visitor’s area which is filled with more than a dozen inmates who are easily recognizable by the bright orange jumpsuits they wear. I follow a few steps behind Emma to a table where a slight, good-looking man in his late twenties is sitting. I’m not sure what I’d expected Gavin to look like, but the pretty boy with fine features and a slightly effeminate air about him certainly isn’t it.

  “Gavin,” Emma says coolly.

  “Well, well,” he drawls in a soft voice. “Two surprise visits in one day. I certainly never expected to see you here, Emmaline.”

  “Yeah, I never really expected to see you holding a gun at my head, so I guess we’re even.”

  I stare at her with admiration. Damn. Emma Hart is downright ballsy under that reserved exterior!

  Gavin lowers his gaze. “I’m sorry, Emma,” he says softly. “I know you probably won’t believe me, but I never meant to hurt you. You have to know I wouldn’t have actually shot you. I was just trying to get you to give me the research. I swear I lost my mind for a minute. I was angry and desperate and not thinking straight, but I couldn’t have actually pulled the trigger. Can you imagine the blood?” He shudders.

  Emma regards him thoughtfully. “I thought we were friends,” she says sadly. “The dress, the perfect accessories…” her voice trails off. “You have no idea how much it meant to me when you called me the morning after the news broke and you actually believed me. You said you could see how much I loved Beckett and you didn’t believe wh
at everyone said I’d done. We talked about stuff I’ve never admitted to anyone else because I thought you understood. But it was all just smoke and mirrors. That’s what really hurt.”

  Gavin is either an exceptional actor or he truly cared about Emma, because he looks sincerely devastated by her accusations.

  “I gave you the dress because seeing you and Beckett together in my shop made me believe in love again,” he says softly. “That age-old dance of seduction, the strong rugged dominant trying to win the heart of the sassy submissive—it was so romantic,” he sighs. “I wanted to believe it could happen. I was pulling for you to put him through his paces and slay him, even as he won your heart. I wanted to know that happily ever after could exist, because I thought if it could exist for you with a man like Beckett, maybe it could exist for me, too. And for the record, I did believe you.”

  “Of course you believed me,” Emma retorts. “Because you knew Camille had leaked the news, not me.

  “Actually, when I called you that morning I didn’t know that for sure, although I had a pretty good suspicion. But I would have believed you anyway. You’re easy to read, Emma. I could see you really loved him, even if he couldn’t.”

  “So why did you take me to the club?” she asks.

  “So you could see Beckett,” he says matter-of-factly. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t a part of Camille’s plans.”

  Emma looks at him disbelievingly.

  “If you don’t believe me, then ask yourself how I ended up taking you home,” Gavin counters. He waits a moment for her to process what he’s said before answering his own question. “Because Beckett asked me to. I hadn’t planned to try to steal your notes that night. In fact, it wasn’t until I watched the desk at the club for Shelly and I found out that…” he breaks off mid-sentence. “Never mind,” he says. “It doesn’t matter now.”