Moonlight Seduction

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Troy’s gaze narrowed on Gabe. “Did you need reminding?”

  “Fuck no,” he shot back. Despite what happened before Nic left for college, he hadn’t needed a reminder of her age. No matter how beautiful she was becoming back then, it was hands off and eyes off. “And stop calling her a teenager. Jesus. She’s fucking twenty-two now.”

  Thank fuck.

  “Well, I am reassured to hear that. Age of consent might be seventeen here to avoid a statutory charge, but that little piece of law ain’t going to stop a bullet in the back of the head.” Troy took a drink of his beer.

  “Damn, bro. You’re a cop,” Lucian said with a laugh.

  He raised a shoulder. “Hell. Richard may be all calm and shit, but I’ve looked into that man’s eyes. He’d straight up kill a motherfucker who messed with his daughter.”

  Yeah, he would.

  It wouldn’t have mattered to Richard that Nic had been eighteen. Shit, still wouldn’t matter now. Gabe twisted at the waist, picking up his beer. Why in the hell was he even thinking about a now?

  Probably because the three times he jerked off this week alone, her fucking face appeared in the middle of it.

  But there was a now.

  Lucian grinned as he watched Gabe. “Well, she might be twenty-two now, but she’ll always be Little Nikki to me.”

  “Christ,” Gabe muttered, rubbing at his chest. A moment passed. “Found Parker sniffing around her last week.”

  “Fuck Parker,” muttered Troy.

  Gabe nodded as guilt stirred in his gut. He was man enough to admit that he’d handled Nic wrong when it came to Parker. He’d been caught off guard when he’d seen her with him—that bastard all in her space and her laughing. He’d also been knocked off his game by his reaction to seeing them together.

  He’d wanted to rip Parker’s throat out.

  And he had no right to that feeling or to say anything to Nic about it. She’d been correct when she threw that in his face, and he was also man enough to know he owed her a damn apology for that . . . and for how he talked to her Thursday, in the gym.

  What happened to you? She’d asked that and what had he said? You.

  Jesus, he’d been a dick and that wasn’t him. He wasn’t that guy. Or at least he hadn’t been, but that was the guy he was turning into. That shit didn’t sit well with him. But he knew one damn thing. What had happened between them four years ago was no excuse. Neither was how his head was still twisted up over the shit with Emma a good enough excuse for how he talked to her.

  For how he knew he made her feel.

  “What was Parker doing at the house?” Lucian asked, the easy grin gone from his face.

  “Supposedly visiting Dev.” Gabe finished off his beer and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. “Richard was out of the house, so Parker was just roaming around.”

  A muscle ticked in Lucian’s jaw. “What was he doing with Nikki?”

  Gabe lifted a shoulder. “Talking.”

  “Parker wouldn’t be visiting Nikki with just talking in mind,” Troy commented, and hell if Gabe didn’t already know that.

  Lucian was quiet as he focused on one of the ornate chairs Gabe had finished, but still needed to paint. “Yeah,” he murmured.

  Gabe frowned, sensing there was more. “What?”

  A long moment passed. “I don’t know.” Lucian tossed his empty bottle. “Probably nothing, but there was this thing that happened. Forgot about it until just now. Shit.”

  “Details?” Gabe turned to his brother.

  “I think Nikki was around seventeen? She was in the pool house. I didn’t know she was out there. Not at first.” He paused. “Anyway, I’d gone in to grab a towel.”

  Gabe stilled.

  “I walked in and Parker was in there with Nikki. She was just in a towel—”

  “What the fuck?” Gabe exploded. How in the hell was this the first time he was hearing this?

  “Yeah.” Lucian dragged a hand through his hair and let it fall. “He said he’d just walked in, like a few seconds before me, and that was possible. I’d gone into the house to get changed and just came back out to go to the pool house. Nikki didn’t say anything to me. She looked embarrassed, but . . .”

  “But what?” Troy leaned forward, dropping both feet onto the floor.

  “But it didn’t sit right with me.” Lucian’s jaw worked. “When I asked him afterward about him being in there, he’d sworn he was only there for seconds. I told him to stay away from her at that point. I don’t think anything happened. I mean, I feel like Nikki would’ve said something, but I . . . yeah, I wish I’d done more.”

  “Like knocking him the fuck out?” Troy asked. “Because I have a hard time believing it was just seconds he was in there. Shit. You walk in on a girl who’s in a towel and you’re not supposed to be in there? You turn into the Flash and get the hell out of there.”

  Gabe was barely hearing what they were saying. He didn’t know about this. Had something happened in the pool house? And he remembered how Nikki had reacted earlier to his accusing her of throwing herself at Parker. There was no mistaking the shock and disgust and . . . and something else he’d seen in her eyes.

  Shit.

  Troy didn’t stay long, wanting to get back to his wife, and Gabe figured Lucian would be right behind him since it seemed like he didn’t spend more than a few hours apart from Julia.

  Lucian didn’t leave, though. He took Troy’s seat, kicking his legs up on the workbench Gabe was leaning against. “How’ve you been?” he asked. “We haven’t really gotten a chance to talk after . . . everything happened.”

  Gabe smirked. “Probably best, all things considered.”

  “Except more shit kept happening,” Lucian replied, rocking his feet. “Everything with Emma—”

  “Don’t want to talk about Emma,” he cut Lucian off.

  “Maybe you should,” his brother said softly.

  Jaw hardening, he picked up the chisel he’d been working with and walked it over to the table. Talking about Emma—damn, thinking about Emma always ended the same way.

  Drinking about his weight in scotch.

  He didn’t want to spend the night like that.

  “I know it’s a no-fly zone for you, but you got to get that shit out of you.” He paused. “Or you’ll end up like Dev.”

  Gabe snorted as he tossed the chisel on the table. Some days he wished he was more like Dev, who was about as caring as a rattlesnake with its head chopped off.

  “I know something’s up. You wouldn’t be here on a Saturday night if there weren’t,” Lucian continued. “You’d be at the Red Stallion, finding yourself a woman to spend the night with. Maybe two.”

  He faced his brother. “Are you playing therapist tonight?”

  Lucian grinned. “What’s going on? You don’t keep me in the dark. Maybe Dev. But not me.”

  That was true. There were few secrets between him and Lucian. He walked over to the stool he’d been using and dropped onto it, running his hands over his face. He needed to keep his mouth shut. That was the best thing to do, but he knew his brother. He’d end up annoying the living fuck out of him until he told him what was up.

  He exhaled heavily, letting his hands hang between his knees. “It has to do with Nic.”

  Surprise flickered across Lucian’s face. “It does?”

  “Something happened between us.”

  Lucian’s stare sharpened. A heartbeat passed. “What happened between you two?” A terse pause. “And when?”

  Letting his head fall back, Gabe stretched his back. “Fuck. I can’t believe I’m even going to talk about this.”

  “Whatever it is, you better get talking, because my head is going in a lot of different places.”

  He lowered his chin. “It’s probably going in the right direction.”

  Lucian’s eyes widened slightly and then he murmured, “Shit.”

  Threading his fingers together, he did something he never thought he would ever do—told
someone else the story of that night. “Right before Nic left for college, she came to the house. Her parents had already left for the evening, and I have no idea where you and Dev were, but you guys weren’t there. I’d been drinking. A lot that night. I was drunk but honest? I would’ve let her in anyway. It wasn’t the first time she came to my apartment. It was different, though. It was at night.”

  Lucian became very, very still.

  “I let her in, and I don’t know how it happened,” he said, closing his eyes. That was a mistake, because what he did remember from that night came back in flashes. Teasing her like he normally would. Then her telling him that she was going to miss him when she left for college. At some point she started to cry when she talked about not seeing him, and he’d hugged her. Somehow, and he couldn’t even figure out how, she ended up in his lap . . . and then under him. “But it happened.”

  “I’m assuming that by it, you mean you two hugged it out?”

  Gabe barked out a short laugh, but it was without humor. “We had sex.”

  The only other time Gabe had seen his brother shocked was when they’d learned the truth about their mother and father. This was the second time he’d seen Lucian shocked into silence.

  Lucian pulled his feet off the bench, dropping them heavily to the floor. His mouth opened, but he didn’t speak.

  He needed to keep going. “When I woke up hours later and she was in my bed, at first, I had no clue—” He cut himself off, swallowing. “I flipped the fuck out on her. Nic bailed out of there so fast, and the first time I’d seen her since that night was when she showed up to work.”

  “Fuck,” Lucian said.

  “Yeah. That about sums it up.”

  Lucian stared at him. “I’m actually at a loss for words. That never happens.”

  “That’s not making me feel better about this.”

  “Not trying to make you feel better.” Lucian shook his head. “She was eighteen when she left for college, right?”

  “Yes. But that doesn’t make a—”

  “Bullshit. That makes a difference. Not a huge one, but it makes a difference.” His jaw worked. “You were drunk?”

  “I was shit-faced. Nic swears she didn’t realize how drunk I was and I . . . I believe her.”

  His brother blinked slowly. “Exactly how drunk were you that you ended up having sex with Livie and Richard’s eighteen-year-old daughter?”

  “Drunk enough to not care,” he replied honestly, and fuck, saying it out loud was like some kind of weight lifted from his shoulders. He hadn’t been an unwilling participant. Honest? He’d been willing. “That’s how drunk.”

  “Shit, man.” Lucian leaned back. “And you and Nic talked about this?”

  “Last week when I saw her. I was pissed. She never gave me a chance to talk to her about it before. And I tried. Called her. Texted her after she left, to make sure she was okay—”

  “Shit. Was she?”

  “Yeah,” he replied with heavy meaning. “For four years, I couldn’t fathom what the hell she was thinking. Damn. Even when I think about it now, I get pissed, because she just left and ignored me and I had no idea if I . . .” He drew in a deep breath. “I know she spent these years not realizing I wasn’t that drunk and I spent these years trying to forget it even happened, grateful that her father hasn’t found out yet and shot me.”

  Lucian snickered at that, because he knew it was the truth. “I wouldn’t be worried about that, though. He loves you. It’s her mom who would do it.”

  A small smile pulled at Gabe’s mouth. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”

  “They’d never think you’d do something like that, though. Me? Hell. They’d probably be surprised I didn’t try something. But you? Nah. They’d never think it. You’re the good one out of us.”

  Gabe lifted a brow.

  “It’s true.”

  A moment passed before Lucian blinked and rubbed his face. “Wow. Well, shit, man. I don’t know what to say. I mean, that is fucked-up. For both of you. Got to be awkward now.”

  “Yeah, doesn’t help that I’ve been nothing but a dick to her since she’s returned. Fucking yelled at her last week when I saw her with Parker. Accused her of throwing herself at him. Then I just . . . yeah, I haven’t been nice to her.”

  Lucian’s gaze zeroed in on him. “Do you think you should be nice to her?”

  Gabe thought about it, really thought about it. “For the last four years, I wanted to simultaneously strangle her and ask her if she was okay. I’ve hated her for what could’ve come from that night, but I got to take responsibility for it, too. Not like she slipped and fell on my dick. I was drunk, Lucian. But I knew it was her. I knew what I was doing.” He let out a ragged breath. “That makes me a shit person, doesn’t it?”

  “No. I don’t think so. It just makes the situation complicated.”

  “Complicated” didn’t feel like a strong enough word to describe everything in his head, but he knew one thing. He didn’t hate Nic now. He didn’t know what the hell that meant, but he didn’t hate her.

  “Well, you know what I think?” Lucian said.

  “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “I think you know what you need to do.” And then Lucian surprised the shit out of him, because he grinned in a way that set off about five hundred warning bells in Gabe. “Yeah, I think you do.”

  Chapter 10

  “I would sell my soul to gain access to that house.” Rosie’s chocolate-brown eyes were glassy, but there was no mistaking the seriousness in her voice. “Come on, Nikki. Help a chick out.”

  Nikki giggled as she twirled the straw in whatever drink Rosie had convinced her she just needed to have. She had no idea what it was, which wasn’t at all surprising since they were at Cure, a bar on Freret Street known for their unique cocktails. “Not going to happen.”

  “Seriously,” Bree chimed in from across the table. She would know exactly how impossible it would be to open the door to Rosie’s unique blend of craziness. She was Bev’s daughter, and while Nikki knew Bev didn’t gossip about things she saw or heard while retrieving the laundry, Bree knew enough to know how the de Vincents were. “No one gets into the de Vincent compound without permission.”

  Nikki should never have told Rosie about what happened the last week, the whole glass moving by itself, because now she was more determined than ever to get inside the de Vincent compound.

  “You can sneak me in!” Rosie lifted her hands. “I thought you said the cameras inside are for show, because they mysteriously don’t work.”

  “They don’t work.” Which was just one of the mysteries at the de Vincent house. No cameras ever recorded in the house beyond a camera on a phone. She knew they had electricians and technicians out there many times over the years, and no one could explain why. “Because of ghosts.”

  “Exactly!” Rosie slammed her hands down on the table, jarring it. The people at the table behind them looked over. “That is why I need to get in there with NOPE.”

  NOPE stood for New Orleans Paranormal Explorations, the team Rosie worked with. Nikki snort-laughed and it didn’t sound attractive, but she couldn’t help it. “Devlin would have a stroke if I let a paranormal investigative team into his house.”

  “Uh-huh.” Bree nodded, sending tight braids over her shoulders. “That he would. I only met that guy once and I know that. Hell, they don’t even let me in the house, and my mom has worked for them for decades.”

  “Ugh.” Rosie plopped her chin on her fist. “I would shave my head to get inside the house.”

  “You could pull that off,” Nikki said dryly. And it was true. Rosie was Louisiana Creole and she had the most beautiful honey-colored skin Nikki had ever seen. “So that wouldn’t exactly be a sacrifice.”

  “Agreed.” Bree finished off her drink.

  Nikki rolled her eyes at Bree. “As if you couldn’t do the same. I, on the other hand, would look like a hot mess.”

  “You always look one step away from b
eing a hot mess.” Bree grinned when Nikki threw her napkin at her. “Crap.” Bree checked the time on her phone. “I’ve got to go. Gotta work in the morning.” Ignoring their boos, she slid off her stool and gave them a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t be hos tonight without me.”

  Rosie laughed as she nodded her head at Nikki. “As if this one over here even knows what being a ho is.”

  Bree laughed. “Too true. Be safe.”

  “I know what being a ho is,” Nikki said after wiggling her fingers goodbye to Bree. “I’ve got my ho on more than once.”

  Rosie arched a brow as she knocked an auburn curl out of her face. “Honey, when is the last time you even went out on a date?”

  Huh. Scrunching up her nose, she had to really think about that. “Um, I had one . . . in March, I think?”

  “That was seven months ago.”

  “So? I was busy with finals and then moving back home.” She sipped more of whatever the citrusy stuff was. “What about you?”

  “Last night.” Rosie grinned. “It wasn’t a sleepover.” There was a shrug. “But it was nice.”

  “Nice.” Nikki laughed, but it came out sounding like a snort once more, which meant it was time to stop the drinking. Sighing, she pushed the drink away.

  Rosie was studying her closely. “How are things with Gabe?”

  “Ugh,” she groaned. Rosie knew about Gabe—knew everything. Her confession occurred one night a few years ago where nearly an entire bottle of tequila had been consumed between them. Rosie was the only person who knew what happened. “Not good.”

  Rosie reached over. Orange and red bangles clanked together as she patted Nikki on the arm. “Talk to me.”

  Leaning forward so Rosie could hear her, Nikki told her about the confrontation in the kitchen and then what happened yesterday. When she finished, Rosie let out a low whistle. “Damn, girl, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Exactly,” Nikki muttered. “I’m trying to stay away from him. I have been! Except when I don’t have a choice, but . . .”

  “But what?”