Chapter Nine
The SUV rolled to a stop in front of the ranch house. Felicity turned toward him, the low sun catching her hair and setting it alight—gold and copper, like fire Gabe couldn’t look away from.
He couldn’t stop himself from reaching over and cupping her cheek. “I’m glad you agreed to stay here until we figure out what’s going on.”
What’s going on. Like it was some small glitch in her life—a plumbing leak or a furnace problem. Not someone out to, if not hurt her, then terrify her.
And there was still the issue of the stolen journal. That person was looking for something. Gabe had snapped photos of everything in the box Henry sent, but he now wished he’d taken detailed photos of each page in that journal. Then he might find an answer to who was stalking her.
She reached across the console and touched his hand. He automatically meshed his fingers with hers, and she gave his a gentle squeeze. “Thanks for everything, Gabe.”
“No need to thank me. I’m…invested.”
Her breath caught, and their gazes locked for a heartbeat. Finally, she withdrew her hand and reached for the handle. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
“I’ll be in the office if you need me.”
They climbed out and closed the doors at the same time. In the back was another duffel of clothes she’d grabbed from her house. He pulled it out, and she stepped close, reaching to take the bag from him. They both froze, hesitant to part ways, even for a short time before dinner.
Her eyes warmed with that softness he’d seen as he joined their bodies.
At the memory, his cock was already half-mast. “Have fun with your sister, bookshop.”
“Have fun with Carson.”
She turned and mounted the steps with a wave, disappearing into the house. He watched her go.
When he turned toward the entrance of the Black Heart Security office, a thought struck him—he couldn’t remember the last time he felt such peace without even trying. Without all the coping mechanisms he learned in the program and a few he taught himself after leaving.
Felicity…calmed the noise.
Carson was at his desk, chair angled back, boots up, eyes narrowed on a screen of live feeds—what looked like bodycam footage from one of his team in the field.
Gabe followed the footage. “Things all right in California?”
His boots hit the floor. “Depends on your point of view. My brothers and Decker are running security for a company in the midst of a hostile takeover. Things are touch and go. Some days they tell me they think a resolution’s in sight.
Then all hell breaks loose with employees attacking each other and making threats against the CEO. ”
“Damn. Sounds like a warzone.”
Their gazes met. Carson was a former SEAL. Gabe fought with the best in the Middle East. They both knew it was far from a warzone, even though the Black Heart Security team wasn’t navigating easy terrain.
Carson left the monitors running but turned his full attention on Gabe. “How’s she holding up?”
“Better than she should be.” He dropped into a chair and folded his arms. “Whoever’s doing this is looking for something.”
“You believe they’ll find it in the journal?”
He nodded. “I think all of this is connected to that friend of hers—Henry. Any way can you run a background check on him? See if he’s still alive and if not, who stands to gain from stealing his journal.”
Carson drew his keyboard closer and set his fingers to the keys. “I’ll set up the preliminary name search. Willow usually does a deeper dive once the information comes back.”
“I see. This guy is smart enough to keep from being caught three times now. And I’m pretty sure he used a jammer to scramble the camera feed.”
“For sure. Not many people around here would know how to do that.” Carson didn’t lift his eyes from his monitor. “Henry Alder?”
“Yeah, that’s the name. Another thing. There’s a woman. She owns the bakery.”
He paused, eyes flicking up at him. “Vera.”
“Yeah. She stopped by after the cops came.”
“Not surprising. She’s the town gossip.”
“I caught that. She told Felicity she might be in the market for a new location so her bakery’s in a better spot.”
“And she wants Felicity’s space.”
“Seems that way.”
“I said a lot of people in Willowbrook wouldn’t know how to scramble the camera feeds, but we can’t be too careful. Willow had trouble with that guy from the feed store.”
He raised his brows. “I missed that.”
Carson took a moment to fill him in about the veteran who couldn’t get into the Black Heart therapy program and how his mind twisted Willow’s being nice to him—Willow being Willow—into her being in love with him.
He sent gifts that escalated to a kidnapping.
And Decker and her brothers had gone to war to get her back.
Gabe swiped a hand down his face. “We can’t let it go that far. We need to look at everybody, including those in the area with a criminal history.”
Carson returned to his computer. “Honor had a nightmare with her ex. Any chance he’s sending someone to do his dirty work?”
“Anything’s possible. All I know is it feels focused, and this person knows Felicity.”
“Or knows of her.”
His lips tightened across his teeth. “I’d like to see the person who tries to get any closer to her.”
Carson watched him for a moment. “What’s your angle here?”
He didn’t pause to answer. “I’m going to do everything in my power to protect Felicity. Make sure she’s safe.”
“I don’t think your only objective is protecting Felicity.”
“What are you getting at?”
“You’re circling something. Perhaps…a new purpose?”
Gabe leveled him in his stare. “Meaning my plans for the future.”
“Yeah.”
He thought of how to respond, mostly because he didn’t know himself. A few days ago, he got in his truck for a drive and ended up states away on the Black Heart.
He shifted in his chair and his coat crinkled. He placed a hand over his pocket, feeling the stiff outline of a square. As he pulled it out, it crinkled again.
Carson watched like he was pulling out a bomb instead of a note with his name in neat lettering across the front.
There was only one person who could have slipped a note in his pocket.
He flipped the envelope over and ran his thumb over the red wax seal bearing an F encircled by flowers.
“Felicity wrote you a note.”
He glanced up at the amusement in Carson’s tone. “How do you know it’s from her?”
“I saw one of those seals on a card at our wedding. And again at Layne’s baby shower.”
He blinked at the seal. Such a small thing, yet it touched him like a stroke of her warm fingers over his skin. His chest tightened.
He looked up at Carson. “Mind if I…?”
He sat back, not bothering to hide his grin. “By all means.”
Using the edge of his thumb, Gabe broke the seal, experiencing a little pang like a bruise.
Her writing curled across the paper, lovely and neat, a schoolteacher’s dream.
Thank you for helping today. For treating my fears like they matter. For being a friend when I need one. And…more.
I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done, even if I’m not always great at saying it out loud. —F
He skimmed it again, reading between each careful stroke of the pen. He didn’t know her very long, or very well yet, but he did know that Felicity put a lot of thought into every word and deed.
He brushed his thumb over the seal again, the envelope slicing through any armor he thought he’d welded around himself years ago.
With a rough clearing of his throat, he slid the note back into the envelope and tucked it securely in his pocket.
Carson pushed away from the desk. “We’re going to find this person. It’s our top priority.”
“I’ll do anything to help.”
Carson gave him a brisk nod. “Right now, what do you say about checking out the new training center site?”
The question threw him. “I say let’s go.” Though his response was simple—words seemed to come as hard to him as they did to Felicity—pleasure rippled through him.
They took Carson’s truck up the dirt road leading toward the ridge. Pines swayed in the wind, throwing shadows across the landscape. The rush of spring mountain air streaming through the cracked window brought Gabe a wave of inexplicable joy.
This is what brought me back.
This and maybe some instinct that I might be really needed.
The new training center site opened into a long plateau carved naturally between rock and trees. The view stretched all the way to the distant hills, the sky endless above them. Little flags had been stuck in the ground at various points as guides for the foundation.
A contractor waited near his truck, a long paper roll tucked under one arm. As he and Carson parked next to him and climbed out, the man strode over to greet them.
“You’re just in time. We’re ready to finalize the layout,” he said without preamble.
Carson clapped his hands together, eyeing the plan like a little kid on his birthday. “Pat, this is Gabe Thorne. He’s working with us.”
Gabe’s chest welled with emotion. First, he had been a Marine. Part of a platoon. Part of a bigger picture. Then his world crashed in and he struggled to find any identity at all.
Being included in the Black Heart, in any capacity, made him remember what it felt like to be part of something.
They shook hands. “Pat. Good to meet you.”
“You too.”
Carson gestured to Gabe. “Walk the line with us.”
While Carson and the contractor discussed boundary lines and structural loads, Gabe scanned the terrain. The ground was a mix of rock and hard-packed soil, perfect for conditioning soldiers. From the elevation changes and natural cover to uneven surfaces, everything screamed potential.
He kept up with the guys, listening to their discussion, when a bright color caught his eye. He tipped his head to study it, and saw a tiny burst of flowers nestled under a jagged slab of rock.
Without thinking, he crouched and discovered a cluster of wildflowers—pale blue petals with centers the color of molten gold. Fragile as tissue and growing in a place that most things couldn’t handle.