Sex, Lies and Valentines (18 page)

Enjoying so much more than the pie, Danita grinned. For the rest of their dessert, they continued to discuss bands, books and pop culture. Flushing a little, she leaned forward to admit, “When I first started in law enforcement, I used to work as a security for hire.”

Gabriel arched his brows over eyes dancing with amused anticipation. “And?”

“I escorted New Kids on the Block,” she said, whispering as if she were disclosing a dirty secret. “To and from their hotel for a show they did in D.C.”

Gabriel looked as worried as if she’d admitted she was a pole dancer on weekends. “And?” he prodded, obviously figuring there was more to her story than just the job.

“And,” she said slowly, pressing the back of her fork into the pie crust flakes on her plate, “they were such nice guys, I ended up buying their CD.”

“Oh, Danita.” He shook his head in mock disappointment. But his lips twitched. And there was something in his eyes that made her squint.

“You owned that CD, didn’t you?” she challenged.

“No way.”

Danita rounded her eyes insistently, making Gabriel laugh again. “Okay, okay. But I didn’t have the CD. I did, however, take a date to see them in concert once. Her choice, not mine,” he defended.

“And you liked them,” she realized, giggling as she laid her hand over the back of his in sympathetic camaraderie for the fall of another hard-core rock fan.

Before she realized she’d made a first move like that, Gabriel had turned his hand over so they were palm to palm, and linked his fingers with hers. Her heart gave a tiny sigh at the sweetness of it. Her stomach clenched at how right it felt.

“So,” she said, casting her mind around for a safe subject to switch to. Discussing the job had been tacitly off-limits for the last few hours. Maybe it was time to get back to work.

But before she could bring up any thoughts about Ham or the goon squad, Gabriel lifted their joined hands and brushed a soft kiss over the back of hers.

“This was nice,” he said, his words quiet but still easy to hear over the clashing dishes and loud voices in the diner. “I had a fun afternoon. I can’t say that very often. Fun isn’t usually on my agenda.”

“Mine either,” she admitted.

“Not even as a kid?”

“Survival was my agenda as a kid,” she said before she thought to temper her honesty. “I guess that carried into my adult life, too. I’ve spent more time looking for stability than for fun.”

After the words were out, she winced, sure Gabriel was going to poke and dig into her past. She lifted her chin, ready to defend her vulnerabilities. But instead he tossed a twenty on the table to cover their pie and coffee and gestured toward the door. “Ready to go?”

“Sure.” Her brow furrowed, she took his hand and slid from the booth. Together they left the diner. Once settled in the car, he gave her a smile that made that spot between her shoulder blades—the one that warned her of trouble—itch.

“Given the rumors you might have heard about my father, you’d probably imagine we grew up with a lot of instability too,” he said. She grinned over his careful tap dance around legalities. “But that’s one thing I have to admire. He did everything he could to give us a solid foundation. We grew up in the house he bought when he married Mom. He made us go to school, made us learn the value of the day-to-day. We traveled the world. We met heads of state, movie stars, millionaires. None of whom would recognize us ever again, of course,” he said with a laugh, his delight at his upbringing clear on his face. “Even while he taught us the finer points in, well, let’s just say getting ahead.”

“Wasn’t that hard, though? I mean, did it fill you with a desire for normalcy because you had that half the time? Or did it fuel your need for a more exciting life because of your exposure to your father’s, um, hobbies?”

Gabriel’s grin widened as he started the car.

“Oh, I definitely want the excitement. But I didn’t realize until coming home, until seeing my family through your eyes, how much I missed the rest of it.”

“Normalcy?”

“How about we call it family instead.” He shot her a look. “Sometimes we can leave behind the parts we don’t like. The stuff that doesn’t suit us. But we can still look back with pride at the stuff that worked. I’ll bet you had a lot that worked, even if it wasn’t something you want to revisit.”

What the hell was she supposed to do when the one person who seemed to understand her inside and out—and appreciate her all the more because of that understanding—was a known criminal under her protective custody?

One who, she was pretty sure, was still pulling multiple levels of cons on everyone he knew. Including her.

9

EVER SINCE THEIR friendly drive and chat over pie three days before, Danita had been careful to keep her shields in place and Gabriel at arm’s length. Irritated, he watched her across Cassiopeia’s living room, trying to figure out why it was bothering him so much.

“You look like a man whose suffering a deep well of frustration.”

Sighing, Gabriel turned to face the other thing that was bothering him. “Nope. I’m fine, Dad.”

“Used to be, you came to me when you had a problem. You liked to bounce ideas, talk things through while you figured them out.”

“Used to be’s are a long time ago,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “You made your choices. I made mine. Funny thing about choices, once they’re made, there’s no going back to used to be.”

After a contemplative look, Tobias gave a slow nod. His dark hair was tidy, his sport jacket dressing up jeans for another of Cassiopeia’s parties, this time a pre-wedding meet-and-greet with Pandora’s family. But the look in his eyes was shrewd and amused. Like he saw right through whatever games Gabriel was playing and was just waiting to see if his son could handle it. Or not.

Gabriel had grown up with that look.

It had been how his father had taught his children. Some would say by giving them just enough rope to hang themselves. In the Black family, though, it was more a matter of giving them just enough leeway to see if they could fly.

And always, always being there to catch them if they fell.

Until he hadn’t been.

“You’ve got your hands full, son. The trick to juggling well is to make sure the balls you value most are the ones you keep closest.”

Gabriel grinned. “And here I thought you’d say the trick is to not juggle anything you don’t want to break.”

“Sometimes we have to risk what we value most. That’s the only way we know if we’re worthy of it.”

Gabriel’s gaze cut across the room to Danita, who was laughing with Maya and Pandora. Her blond hair was straight tonight, falling in a silken curtain to her chin and framing her lovely face. Was he worthy? Did it matter? He was the complete opposite of everything she stood for. That took him a step beyond unworthy, he figured.

“And when we realize that worthy isn’t enough?” he asked, unable to help himself.

“Then we figure out a way to step up the game. If the prize is worth having, it’s worth busting your ass for.” Tobias’s sigh pulled Gabriel’s attention away from Danita. He noted signs of stress, sleepless nights and worry on his father’s face. Age? Or did Tobias have a clue that he was under investigation? Hunter had indicated the master con was either behind the crime ring, or behind the eight ball.

Though Gabriel had claimed his father’s innocence, he hadn’t really cared. If he’d found out Tobias was the goon squad’s boss, he’d have found a way to twist the finger to point it elsewhere.

But the evidence of his father’s innocence was there, in the dark circles under his blue eyes, in the grooves furrowed in his brow. No con ever put signs of wear on Tobias Black. Worry did.

“Dad?” he started, not sure what, exactly, he was going to say.

He hated to admit, even to himself, how grateful he was when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Excuse me,” he said, reaching for the phone, willing to take even a telemarketer call to get out of this conversation. “I’ve got to take this.”

It took a single glance at the screen for his heart to race. Keeping it casual, he wove through furniture shaped like body parts and pedestals holding crystal balls, toward the front door without looking like he was in a hurry. A smile here, a wave there let him avoid friendly faces. He pressed Talk at the same time he walked out the front door of Cassiopeia’s house.

“Hey there, Colby,” he greeted as he stepped out onto the sidewalk in the chilly night. “I wasn’t sure you were going to call me back.”

“I debated for a bit, but then I decided it’d be rude to leave you hanging.” The response was amused and easy.

“And you’re never rude,” Gabriel agreed with a laugh.

Which he’d hoped would factor in. But given the favor he was asking, he hadn’t counted on it. He and Colby went way back. Both sons of notorious, and unprosecuted, criminal factions. But while Gabriel had embraced Tobias’s legacy, Colby had turned his back on his, distancing himself from the talents of the late Antony Grayson’s talent as a master counterfeiter.

It was a testament to how desperate he was that Gabriel was willing to risk their friendship and ask him to close that distance.

“How’re you doing, Gabriel? Taking a break in Black Oak or are you thinking of settling back into the arms of the family?”

“Just a break. And if you know I’m here, you probably know the details of why?”

“I couldn’t garner much info on the hot blonde, but I have a pretty clear picture of what you’re dealing with.”

Yet another nice thing about dealing with Colby. The man did his homework and had one hell of a brain. If he’d ever turned his talent to cons, Gabriel would have had major competition. But no, his old friend had gone the crazy route and joined the military instead.

“I need a stake,” Gabriel said, getting straight to the point. “A traceable, convictable stake. A couple hundred K or thereabouts. Enough to get me an introduction to whoever’s calling the shots here, and guarantee they go down once I know where to shine the legal lights.”

The silence was long enough to make the skin between Gabriel’s shoulder blades itch. Finally, he heard the clink of ice hitting a glass, then a long sigh.

“You’re asking a lot, buddy. You know I’m no artist.”

“I’m not asking you to manufacture anything. Just to donate a little of the artwork your father left behind for my project.”

“My father’s style is distinctive. What guarantee do I have that this won’t come back and kick my ass?”

“Your glowing reputation.” Gabriel waited until Colby’d finished laughing before adding, “And my promise.”

The laughter faded. The tension in Gabriel’s shoulders, combined with the cold February night air, made him feel like he was about to shatter.

Finally, “Fine, but you’ll owe me. I’ll have it delivered to you by this time tomorrow.”

“I appreciate it,” Gabriel said, relief rushing through him. It was a good plan, and the counterfeit money was vital to pulling it off. But still, he was asking one hell of a lot from his old pal.

“In exchange, you tell me the whole story,” Colby said in his smooth, easy tone. “And introduce me to the blonde.”

“The story’s yours,” Gabriel agreed with a laugh. “But the blonde is mine.”

“So that’s how it is?”

Staring across the lawn with its collection of naked statuary, twinkling heart-shaped lights and bare-root roses, Gabriel sighed. He had a hell of a lot more confidence in pulling off this scam than he did in making his relationship with Danita a reality.

Still…

“Yeah,” he said, falling back on the art of believing that if you said the lie often enough, it’d become reality. “That is exactly how it is.”

Colby’s laugh had the wicked edge of a man who’d never fallen off that scary emotional cliff.

“Twenty-four hours,” he said, still guffawing as he hung up.

One day. Then he’d bluff his way through the biggest game he’d ever played.

Great. Nothing more fun than bluffing with a bunch of guys who liked to shoot their opponents. He didn’t know if it was the stakes, or the game itself, but he was getting tired of playing. For the first time in his life, Gabriel considered the option of this being his last game. After all, would he ever play for higher stakes? Damned hard to top this.