Chapter 41
C allie pulled the SUV into a spot at the clubhouse, the parking area as full as she’d ever seen it.
Her stomach twisted, and she wondered if she’d ever get over that knee-jerk reaction to new situations.
The fear of rejection, the fear of not being good enough.
This situation was worse than any of the others.
No, that wasn’t quite right. This situation had the potential to be worse than any other because rejection from Gabriel’s family would hurt more.
Would hurt more than getting something wrong at work.
Hurt more than disappointing a colleague.
The way many had greeted her when she’d come by the clubhouse after the truth finally blew up between her and Gabriel led her to believe they might be okay with the sudden change in their relationship status. But she wouldn’t bet on it. Unlike the Warwicks.
That errant thought made her smile. It was a totally foreign concept to bet on people’s lives. She wasn’t sure she’d ever partake, but with time, she’d probably get used to it. The same way she’d get used to Gabriel’s family. And they’d get used to her.
She didn’t hold out hope that she’d ever be as comfortable as Charley or Joey or Juliana or Lina appeared to be.
She wasn’t an easy person to like; she knew that about herself.
Not because she was cruel or mean or a bad person.
But life had taught her to be cautious. The less someone knew her, the less they could be disappointed in her.
Recently, she’d started acknowledging how fucked up that was and how much she wanted to change.
She’d have to figure that out somehow. In the meantime, all she could do was try.
And she did want to try. These people were Gabriel’s family—hers now, too, according to Chad.
They deserved more from her. She deserved more for herself.
“Ready?” Gabriel asked. “And you aren’t going to the gallows. You’ve met most of the guys already,” he added, concern shadowing his blue eyes.
“I’ve met them as an FBI agent, not as your wife ,” she replied, only stumbling a little on that word. She never expected to be anyone’s wife ever, let alone Gabriel’s. She wondered if she’d ever get used to saying it.
Gabriel’s smile went a long way to easing her anxiety. Or a bit of it. “Okay,” she said on an exhale. “Let’s do this.”
He chuckled as they exited the car. “It’s not going to be nearly as bad as you’re imagining,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her in for a chaste but lingering kiss.
“But it will be a little bad,” she mumbled as they walked to the door.
“More for me than you,” he answered. She glanced at him. “They aren’t going to like that they missed the wedding,” he clarified. “And I can assure you that no one bet on me being the first of the Falcons to get hitched. There will be no winner of that bet.”
“There’s a bet on that?” she asked, but he opened the door and the answer took second—or fourth—fiddle to the current situation.
He held her left hand, covering the rings she’d slid on less than twelve hours earlier, and they stepped into the main lodge room of the clubhouse.
Everyone looked over at their arrival—most were familiar faces, although some she knew of but hadn’t met.
Several sat around the fireplace, including Charley, Juliana, and Lina, drinks in hand and their feet kicked up on the coffee table.
Four Falcons played cards at a table. Scipio was on his phone, as he almost always was.
Four more men played pool in the back corner, stopping their game when she and Gabriel entered.
The tableau reminded her of the day she’d stopped by a few weeks ago and they’d been having a barbecue. Only this time, she had Gabriel at her side.
Familiar tension crept into her body, and she could feel her defensive walls going up brick by brick.
But then Charley squealed, a very un-Charley-like thing to do in Callie’s experience, and pointed at Gabriel’s hand. “I won the bet. I won !”
A few expressionless faces zeroed in on the ring Gabriel wore, while a few others started to smile.
Gabriel grinned like the Cheshire cat and lifted his hand.
“You won, Charley,” he confirmed. Then, raising her hand, he flashed her rings for them to see as well.
“We decided that some things in Vegas shouldn’t stay in Vegas. We got married this morning.”
She didn’t miss the wary looks some of the men gave them—Lovell, Superman, and Hawkeye the most obvious of the bunch—but she chose to focus on the smiles emerging.
Not surprisingly, Mantis, Stone, and Viper were the first. Then Marley, Monk, and Dulcie, a man she’d not met, followed.
She didn’t blame those who remained guarded.
In a weird way, their reticence made her more comfortable.
Their reactions felt real, and she’d rather real wariness than fake happiness.
Mantis approached first and embraced his brother in a hug, then wrapped his arms around her.
Everyone else, even the hesitant ones and the ones she’d never met before, followed.
Not surprisingly, Juliana demanded to see her ring.
She dutifully held her hand out in a way she’d seen countless other women do, never thinking she’d be one of them.
Even Charley complimented Gabriel on his pick.
Lina glanced at it and smiled, but Callie suspected that if she and Viper ever married, their “engagement rings” might be new Harleys.
The last person to congratulate them was Dottie, the tips of her hair freshly dyed her signature purple. She didn’t bother to hide the tears in her eyes as she hugged them both, then chastised them for not telling her first so she could have a celebration ready.
Only Callie thought that if the amount of food and drink and dessert that appeared from the kitchen was Dottie not preparing, it was a good thing they hadn’t told her. Otherwise, the club would be eating continuously for days.
Over the next half hour, drinks were poured, music came on, the game of pool picked back up, as did a rousing game of darts.
She had no idea why the club kept enough bottles of Taittinger champagne on hand to keep their glasses full, but she wasn’t going to complain.
Although, after one or two, several people switched to beer.
Except for Gabriel, who switched to water after his second, telling her he’d drive so she could enjoy.
Eventually, they were pulled in separate directions, and she appreciated that a few of the men she’d not met before made a point to spend time with her.
When three of them thanked her for what she’d done all those years ago, it dawned on her that their guardedness wasn’t personal.
She was simply someone they didn’t know whom their brother had pledged to spend the rest of his life with.
Although Einstein did suggest that she learn the art of the pause—that small space between a trigger and a reaction—and how to use it so as not to hurt either of them in the future.
But even his gentle rebuke of her past behavior was tempered by his choice of words.
He didn’t want either of them to get hurt now— her or Gabriel.
A few people asked about the case and, to the extent she could, she answered. Not in detail, but with enough information to ease their minds. Although halfway into her conversation with Mantis she realized Gabriel had failed to mention the tiny detail of getting shot. A fact Mantis did not like.
“A professional,” Mantis said, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes scanning the small nicks and marks on her cheek.
They didn’t hurt anymore, and as long as she kept a little ointment on them, she didn’t feel the telltale tightening of healing skin.
Her hands were a different story. They itched and stung at the same time.
Ointment and the bandages helped, although she’d insisted on only wearing small ones, just big enough to cover the worst of the scrapes.
“Definitely a professional,” Gabriel answered, not bothered by the glower Mantis sent him. Charley reached out and wrapped her arm around Mantis’s waist.
“Nice try at distracting me, Charlotte. I’m still pissed he didn’t bother to tell me he was shot ,” Mantis said, sliding his arm over her shoulder and pulling her to his side.
“A scratch. Should I call and tell you when I drop a hammer on my toe, too?” Gabriel said.
“Not helping, Philly,” Charley muttered.
“It’s not the scratch I’m concerned with but the fact that he came after you at all,” Mantis replied.
“And got away,” Callie chimed in. As annoyed as Mantis was, she agreed with him on that point.
Mantis nodded. “It’s possible that whoever sent him—and we’re all assuming it was Aiden Nolan—will back off, knowing you’ll be on your guard now.”
“He may also be thinking he has bigger fish to fry,” Callie said.
When Mantis cocked his head, she continued.
“As far as Aiden knows, I’m no longer with the FBI and currently jobless.
Killing us would have been expedient, but in his eyes, I have no authority, and there’s not much I can do to him.
Now that there’s been a shooting, though… ”
“The authorities—people who can do something about it—are involved again. And local law enforcement will be looking for a motive,” Mantis said with a nod.
“He doesn’t know what I’ve shared or who I’ve shared it with,” she said. “He’s going to be busy figuring that out. Figuring out who I’ve told what.”
“And it doesn’t make sense to risk coming after you again when it’s likely that the information you have won’t die with you,” Mantis said.
“Can we not talk about Callie dying?” Gabriel asked.
Charley frowned. “I agree. I get what you’re saying, but maybe we could be a little more hypothetical?”
Mantis looked down at Charley. He grimaced, no doubt replaying the conversation but with her in Callie’s place. Leaning down, he kissed Charley before shooting Gabriel an apologetic look. “Sorry, brother.”
Gabriel slid an arm around her waist and kissed her temple before nodding to Mantis.
After that, they dropped all talk of the case, and the room filled with stories and laughter and games of pool and so much food. The loaded, anticipatory looks Gabriel sent her over the hours the only reminder that this was their first night as husband and wife.
When she bent over the pool table to take a shot—a winning shot, she hoped—Gabriel ambled over, the casualness of his walk not fooling her one bit.
She held his gaze over the table as the stick slid forward.
The sound it made when it struck the cue ball told her the shot was good.
She kept her eyes on Gabriel as the ball rolled across the table and gently tapped the eight ball, sending it into the corner pocket.
When Marley, her teammate, let out a whoop, she straightened.
Gabriel circled the table. Stopping in front of her, he closed his hands around her waist, pulling her against him. “You ready to head home, wife?” he asked. He kept his voice low, but judging by the chuckles around her, his brothers knew exactly what he said.
She held out her stick and someone, maybe North, took it from her hand. “Yes, please, husband,” she replied. Gabriel smiled when that last word left her mouth. She started to respond with one of her own, but he lowered his head and kissed her.
The whoops and hollers that escorted them as they left made her laugh. And while joy filled her body—as did anticipation—she didn’t miss the concern in Mantis’s eyes when he waved his goodbye.