A Carpino Series Collection, Books 1-3

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A Carpino Series Collection, Books 1-3 Page 6

by Brynne Asher


  “Well, he came with you.” My uncle Nic grins like a loon.

  “He’s not with me,” I return, losing what little patience I have left.

  “He’s standing right next to you,” my cousin Grant points out.

  “Shut up,” I return, reverting back to my childhood.

  “Gabrielle Carpino,” Aunt Lizzie hisses, moving her long and lanky body forward a step. “The least you can do is make introductions so this young man knows who he’s eating dinner and Fantasy Footballing with.”

  Snickers and choked back laughter can be heard around the room, either from calling Jude a young man or referring to the draft as Fantasy Footballing.

  “Fine.” I look up at Jude and give him the scariest glare I can muster, hopefully relaying to him an I told you so and decide to get this over with.

  “Jude, this is my Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Tony. Uncle Tony is the second oldest boy in my dad’s family. Their oldest daughter is Sophia, the pregnant one over there and she’s married to Lanny—he’s Mia’s veterinarian. Their boys are Noah and Cayden. Then there’s Charlotte, married to Vic, they have Madelyn and Cole. You know Tony and this is their youngest, Paige.” I look up at Jude for confirmation and he just grins, the jerk, so I carry on. “This is my Uncle Gino, my dad’s oldest brother, and Aunt Emma. Their son Dean is married to Audrey. They have Ella and William. This is their daughter Micah, married to Joe and they have Emily and Grace. And finally, this is my Uncle Nic and Aunt Tia. Nic is the youngest boy in the family. This is their son Grant, the obnoxious one, and his wife Clara. This is their daughter, Chloe.” I give Chloe a bounce in my arms. “Nic and Tia also have Logan and Avery, but they’re away at college.” I pull in a big breath while my hand a little wave. “Everyone, this is Jude Ortiz.”

  I hear Jude chuckle and say in his low raspy voice, “Thanks for having me.”

  With that, I plunk little Chloe down on her tap shoes and march through my crazy family, heading straight for the fridge to get a beer. Picking a Blue Moon, I pop the top, take a long pull as people start filing into the great room and kitchen. I see Tony heading straight for me.

  I point to him. “I’m not talking to you.”

  “Why aren’t you talking to me, Gabba?” he asks, fighting back a grin.

  “This is entirely your fault. Hence, me not speaking to you.”

  “I’m not the one who found myself in the middle of a Federal raid, Gabby. Don’t see how it’s my fault,” he drawls.

  “Shut up,” I mutter, since I have no meaningful response.

  “Gabby?” I hear Chloe calling up to me. “Will you watch Enchanted with me?”

  “Yes, sweetie, we’ll put it on after dinner.”

  “Yay! I wanna be Giselle!” she yells, as if I was going to call it first and she clickety-clacks away only to continue yelling, “Pop!”

  I look over and my grandfather walks into the room. My insides soften to the point where I can almost forget the last fifteen-minute horror show my family put me through. He’s swinging Chloe up in the air, still pretty agile for his seventy years. He receives greetings from his entire family, his great grandchildren especially attacking him with loving hellos, and I make my way to him.

  “Pop,” I greet as he turns and folds me into his arms. I lean my head back and ask, “How are you?”

  “Piccolo,” he murmurs, kissing me on the forehead, affectionately greeting me in his native Italian. “I’m old, Gabby. How’s my girl?”

  “I’m fine and you’re not old, Pop. Quit saying that.”

  From my legs, I hear Chloe yell as if we’re across the house, “Pop, Gabby’s got a boyfriend and he’s really big!”

  I look up at Pop and my eyes get big. “I do not have a boyfriend.” Turning my head to the not-so-cute Chloe, I repeat, “I do not have a boyfriend. Quit saying that.”

  Out of nowhere, Jude appears. I look up at him and sigh. Of course, he grins at me.

  My pop turns me forward with his arm still around my neck, frowns, and says in a not very polite voice, “Who are you?”

  “Pop.” I give him a soft elbow to his side. He is seventy, after all.

  “Jude Ortiz, it’s nice to meet you.” Jude holds his hand out for my grandfather.

  Pop slowly takes his arm from around my neck, taking Jude’s hand and returns with a frown. “Gil Carpino, Gabby’s grandfather.”

  “You’ve got a big family here, Mr. Carpino,” Jude says.

  “Yes. I do,” my grandfather coldly states, now assessing Jude. I’m not sure, but this could be worse than the craziness we experienced when we walked in the house.

  Deciding now was the time to escape, I mutter, “I should help with the food.” I push away from my latest uncomfortable situation, go to Lizzie and hope she assigns me some random chore.

  I set about my tasks, occasionally glancing over to see Jude moving around the room. He doesn’t seem to have a problem socializing on the crazy train.

  When it’s time for dinner, Jude casually sits down next to me as if we’ve eaten our last four hundred and sixty-two meals together—which we haven’t. Then, he casually chats with my family as if he’s the favorite neighbor boy just back from war—which he isn’t. I, on the other hand am stressed to the gills, especially when Jude sits back to stretch his arm out across the back of my chair casually drinking his beer, as if he’s really that big and needs the extra room to stretch out—which he is. More than once during dinner, I catch my Pop glaring at Jude. Also, more than once throughout this horrific time period, I catch Tony smirking at me, which only makes me glare back at him.

  Finally, the torture was over and we clean up the colossal mess created by my big family. All the men, other than my grandfather, head to the basement for the much anticipated once a year pleasure of drafting a Fantasy Football Team. Everyone else starts unwrapping desserts or finding a place to settle with a new drink. This is what I was about to do, but instead am dragged into Tony’s shrine, and for the umpteenth time in the matter of two days find myself being interrogated, this time by the women in my family.

  “Spill,” Paige demands. At this point, our private party has grown to include Audrey, Micah, Charlotte and Clara.

  “What do you want to know?” I hesitantly ask.

  “How did you meet him?” Sophia asks.

  “Um…I met him through a friend.” I try to be as vague as possible.

  “How long have you known him?” Clara shoots.

  “I guess we met yesterday?”

  “Yesterday?” a couple of them scream at the same time.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Why he is acting like he’s with you?” Charlotte presses.

  “He’s not with me,” I insist.

  “Girl,” Audrey starts. “I’ve been married for fifteen years and have seen a lot. That man not only thinks he’s with you, but he’s with you, if you know what I mean. He seems to have the ability to watch you like a hawk while drinking beer and shooting the shit. Trust me, we know. We’ve been watching him like a hawk all night.”

  “I wanna know where you found him,” Paige demands. “I want one just like him.”

  “Ohmygoodness.” Finally, I decide enough is enough. “You can sit in here and talk about Jude Ortiz all night. I’ve had a freaking long day and didn’t sleep last night. The bottom half of my house is wet, I’m tired and I need another beer. I might need a lot more beer to get through the rest of the night with you people. I’m going to watch Enchanted, appreciate Patrick Dempsey’s hair for the beautiful lushness that it is, and drink. Don’t ask me anymore questions.”

  “Tony told us about your basement, that sucks.” Paige shrugs offhandedly. She obviously isn’t a homeowner otherwise she would describe my basement flooding as the epic catastrophe that it is.

  I ignore them all and turn to walk out of the room. “Chloe, get the movie!”

  “I’m Giselle!” she yells back as I make it to the fridge for another beer. I get to the sofa and my Pop is stretched out
on one end with his feet up on the coffee table with a glass of red wine.

  “Do you mind if we put in a movie, Pop?”

  “Anything, Gabby.” He gives me a small smile.

  Kicking off my flip flops, I settle in the other corner of the sofa with my beer, tucking my feet under me. Chloe puts the movie in and snuggles up. I take a swig of my beer and settle in. I don’t even make it through the animated part of the movie to ogle Patrick Dempsey’s hair.

  I am out like a light.

  Chapter Five

  Cut Me To The Quick

  "Gabby." I hear my name being called softly while something equally as soft whispers across my face. I'm so tired, I just want to sleep. "Sugar, wake up."

  The word sugar clicks in my brain and my eyes pop open. My head is on a pillow, I'm covered with a soft blanket and Jude's melty eyes are all I see. I feel his hand pushing my hair away from my face. "Draft is done. Time to take you home."

  I push up on one arm, putting myself even closer to Jude since he doesn't move back one little inch.

  "I fell asleep," I announce.

  "Yeah, it's late. Let’s get going.” I start to move and realize Mia is snuggled up in the crook of my lap. I give her a nudge and she jumps down. I see my cousins carrying sleeping kids out the door one at a time. Jude sees me looking at the train of sleeping children and turns back to me with a grin. "Do I need to carry you, too?"

  "No, I think I can walk," I respond with a bit of a glare.

  "Here's your purse, Gabby." Lizzie comes in with my things. "Your bowl and platter are clean by the door."

  "Thanks, Lizzie, and thanks for dinner."

  I take my purse as Jude is offering his own gratitude and handshakes. I make my way through my family giving my own goodbyes and as we’re moving toward the door, my phone rings.

  Still dazed from my late evening nap, I slide my thumb across the screen without checking Caller ID. “Hello?”

  “This is Protection One, I’m calling for Gabrielle Carpino.”

  “This is Gabrielle Carpino.”

  “Ma’am, the alarm at your home has been triggered. What’s the password on the account?”

  “Meredith. What’s going on?” My end of the conversation has garnered attention from all of those around me and the room has gone from sleepy to alert in point five seconds.

  “Gabby, who is that?” Jude asks at the same time Tony butts in, “What’s going on?”

  “Ma’am, one of your back doors has tripped the alarm. Are you at home?” the operator asks.

  Waving my hand in front of me for my audience to be quiet so I can concentrate on my call, I continue. “No, I’m not home. Did you contact the police?”

  Now the room has gone from alert to wired and I find my phone plucked out of my hand. “Hey!”

  “This is Jude Ortiz, a friend of Miss Carpino’s. What’s going on?”

  “I could have told you what’s going on, Jude, if you would have waited two seconds.” He puts a hand up, palm to me. This must be the universal male hand communication for be quiet as opposed to my feminine one of waving my hand around. This makes me cross my arms across my chest in silent protest of him confiscating my phone.

  “Good. Thanks. We’ll be there in ten minutes. Yes, we’ll wait for the police to give us the all-clear to enter the house. I’m in a silver Ford F150.” He finishes my call and turns to me. “Your alarm went off and it came from one of your back doors on the deck. The police are en route and will need to clear the house before we can go in.”

  “I could’ve handled that, you know.”

  “Gabby, you don’t know what you’re dealing with, there’re things I need to talk to you about regarding Trevor Harper. Things I had planned to tell you about earlier, but because of what happened at your house, it wasn’t the time.” I look at him confused. He then lays it out for me. “You’ve been mentioned on the wiretap on my case—and not in a good way. You’re receiving attention by being at Harper’s during the raid yesterday, attention from some really bad people. We need to arrange extra precautions for you until we find him and put him behind bars.”

  Yes, this is what he said. Right in front of all my uncles, aunts, and most of my adult cousins. The only thing I can do is stand here looking up at him with my mouth open.

  I have no words.

  “Raid?” Uncle Gino belts.

  “Gabby, what is he talking about?” Aunt Tia asks.

  “What’s going on?” Uncle Tony demands from Jude. Similar questions continue to be shot around the room at Jude and me.

  Speechless.

  I’m speechless.

  I’ve been mentioned on wiretaps and not in a good way. I mean, I doubt there’s a good way for anyone to be mentioned on a wiretap, right? And I have to take extra precautions? What does that mean? Jude planned to tell me earlier, but because of what happened at my house and having to tell him about my parents, he didn’t? I don’t know if I think that’s sweet or if I should be pissed he didn’t tell me I was mentioned on a wiretap and not in a good way.

  I don’t know what to do, so I look straight to Tony. My eyes get big and I try to telepathically ask him for help. Obviously not picking up on my silent SOS, he shakes his head. “Did you really think you could keep this from everyone?”

  “You knew about this?” Aunt Lizzie raises her voice, actually yelling at her Golden Boy and all eyes go to Tony.

  Tony sighs. “Yes. Gabby called me yesterday for representation while they were questioning her. I went, there was minimal questioning before they realized Gabby has nothing to do with their case. Jude is the case agent.”

  Uncle Tony starts in, speaking directly to his son. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us about this. This could be dangerous for Gabby.” He turns to me. “And what do you think you were doing getting yourself tangled up in the middle of a Federal raid? What were they looking for?”

  “Are you kidding? I was finishing Megan’s laundry room. I was there on business. Décor business, not any other kind of business. For heaven’s sake. I was delivering a client gift, the project just finished up.” I defend myself.

  Jude has had enough of my family. “We need to get to Gabby’s. The police will be waiting—can we finish this later?”

  “I’ll follow you,” says Tony. All of my uncles concur and they all prepare to make a late-night visit to my house.

  I take my bowl and platter, thrust them at Jude, scoop up my sleepy dog, and march out the door. Finding it unbelievable that I have yet another drama to attend to, I hear Jude beep the locks on his truck as I approach the passenger door. His long legs must really work double time because he catches up to me while balancing my stuff under one arm and grabs my arm. “Gabby, wait.”

  “What?” I fling around and start ranting. “I have the police waiting, remember? And apparently, I have precautions to take, precautions that my security system isn’t good enough for since my house was still broken into.”

  “Gabby, settle down. We’ll figure this out, talk to the police, but I promise I’ll make it safe for you.”

  I’m tired and it’s even more exhausting to think about what I have ahead of me for the rest of what will be a long night. “Can we go? I need to know what’s going on at my house. Please.”

  He looks at me for a beat before agreeing. “Yeah. Let’s get you home.” We both climb in his truck and Jude leads the caravan of Gabby Caretakers to my next drama.

  “Ma’am, you’re lucky you weren’t home. What with you being on the far west side of town so close to the county line, there isn’t much crime out this way. Took us fourteen minutes to get the closest squad here from the time your alarm company dispatched us. Lot can happen in fourteen minutes, ma’am. Yep, you were luck-ee to-night.” An officer describes in depressing detail that I’d basically be screwed if I’d been home. This news does not make me feel better, to say the least.

  When we got to my house, there were four cop cars, another pulling up, and my house was lit up like
it was honing the mother ship. Since we got here, we’ve been told that one of the back doors leading from the master bedroom—my bedroom—to the deck, had the glass busted out and tripped my alarm. My house has been cleared by the police, no other damage was found, and nothing was taken that we could tell.

  My usually spacious master bedroom seems super tiny with all the police officers, Jude, Tony, and my uncles standing around assessing the damage, not to mention, what possibly could’ve happened if I’d been here. Trying to put thoughts of what could’ve been out of my mind, I help a couple of my uncles find some plywood and tools in my garage to patch up the door for the night. When we walk back into my room, Jude is in deep discussion with the police officers. When my uncles get started on the patch job, Jude looks up and moves to me.

  “We need to talk.” He reaches for my hand, pulls me out of my bedroom and back into the great room, sitting me on my sofa. He moves close to me and starts. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, Gabby. I don’t know whether it’s Harper or others in his organization, but they know you were there when we served the warrant and know they’re involved in illegal activity. We heard them talk about this on the wiretap and they see you as a threat because of what you might know. Tonight could have been a warning or something else altogether.”

  “Something else?”

  Jude—who’s still holding my hand by the way—scoots even closer, reaches up with his free hand and slides his fingers into my hair to cup the side of my head. And just like earlier, it feels so good, I think I might melt all over again. Then he leans his head down, using his low and sweet voice on me for the second time today. “Gabby, I’ll make sure you’re not alone. I’ll make sure you’re safe and no one’s going to touch you. I know I should have told you about this earlier today, but I upset you once and the thought of doing it twice cut me to the quick.”

  Cut him to the quick? He didn’t want to upset me twice? I look into his melty eyes and wonder what in the hell is going on with my life. Federal raids, flooded basements, broken windows, and a confusing, sexy, bossy but sweet federal agent.

 

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