Entwined with You: A Crossfire Novel (Crossfire Book 3) (15 page)

W
HEN
I spotted my dad outside the baggage claim area, I lost all the confidence Gideon had instilled in me since I’d left work. Dad looked drawn and haggard, his eyes reddened and his jaw shadowed by stubble.

I felt the sting of tears as I walked toward him, but I blinked them back, determined to reassure him. Holding my arms open, I watched him drop his carry-on and then all the air left my lungs as he hugged me tightly.

“Hi, Daddy,” I said, with a tremor in my voice I hoped he missed.

“Eva.” His lips pressed hard to my temple.

“You look tired. When’s the last time you slept?”

“On the leg out of San Diego.” He pulled back and looked at me with gray eyes that were the same as mine. He searched my face.

“Do you have more luggage?”

He shook his head, still studying me.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“I grabbed something in Cincinnati.” Finally, he backed up and retrieved his bag. “But if you’re hungry … ?”

“Nope. I’m good. But I was thinking we could take Cary out for dinner later, if you’re up for it. He went back to work today.”

“Sure.” He paused with his bag in his hand, looking a bit lost and unsure.

“Dad, I’m okay.”

“
I’m
not. I want to hurt something and there’s nothing for me to hit.”

That gave me an idea.

Grabbing his hand, I started leading him out of the airport. “Hold that thought.”

“H
E’S REALLY MAKING
Derek work for it,” Parker noted, wiping the light sheen of sweat off his shaved head with a hand towel.

I turned to watch, seeing my father wrestling with the instructor who was twice his size, and my dad wasn’t a small guy. Standing over six feet tall and weighing in at two hundred pounds of solid, rippling muscle, Victor Reyes was a formidable opponent. Plus, he’d told me he was going to check out Krav Maga himself after I’d shared my interest in it, and it seemed he had—he had some of the moves down pat. “Thanks for letting him jump in.”

Parker looked at me, his dark eyes steady and calm in that way he had. He’d been teaching me more than just how to defend myself. He had also taught me to focus on the steps to be taken, not the fear.

“Usually I’d say class isn’t the place to bring your anger,” he said, “but Derek needed the challenge.”

Although he didn’t ask it, I could feel the unspoken question
in the air. I decided it was best to answer it, since Parker was doing me a favor by letting my dad monopolize his co-instructor. “He just found out that someone hurt me a long time ago. Now it’s too late to do anything about it and he’s having a hard time with that.”

He reached down and grabbed the bottle of water sitting just off the side of the training mat. After a minute, he said, “I have a daughter. I can imagine how that feels.”

When he looked at me before taking a drink, I saw the understanding in his thickly lashed dark eyes and I was reassured that I’d brought my dad to the right place.

Parker was easygoing and had a great smile, and was genuine in a way that I’d rarely come across. But he had an air about him that warned people to tread carefully. One knew right away that it would be stupid to try to pull anything over on him. His street smarts were as obvious as his tribal tattoos.

“So you bring him here,” he said, “let him work it out and let him see you taking care of your own protection. Good idea.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” I confessed. Parker’s studio was located in a revitalizing area of Brooklyn. It was a converted warehouse, and the exposed brick and giant sliding loading-bay doors added to the atmosphere of tough chic. It was a place where I felt confident and take-charge.

“I’ve got some ideas.” He grinned and jerked his chin toward the mat. “Let’s show him what you can do.”

I dropped my towel over my water bottle and nodded. “Let’s.”

I didn’t see any of the uniformed parking attendants as we pulled into the underground garage of my apartment building. Since I wanted to do the honors myself anyway, that worked for me. I slid the DB9 into an empty slot and cut the engine. “Fabulous. Right by the elevator.”

“So
I see,” my dad said. “Is this your car?”

I’d been waiting for that question. “No. A neighbor’s.”

“Friendly neighbor,” he said dryly.

“A cup of sugar. An Aston Martin. It’s all the same, right?” I glanced at him with a smile.

He looked so tired and worn, and not from the workout. The weariness came from the inside, and it was killing me.

Turning the car off, I released my seat belt and turned to look at him. “Dad. I … It’s shredding me to see you torn up over this. I can’t stand it.”

Heaving out his breath, he said, “I just need some time.”

“I never wanted you to find out.” I reached out and gripped his hand. “But I’ll be glad you did, if we can put Nathan behind us for good.”

“I read the reports—”

“God. Daddy …” I swallowed back a rush of bile. “I don’t want that stuff in your head.”

“I knew there was something wrong.” He stared at me with such sorrow and pain in his eyes it hurt to look into them. “The way Cary went to sit beside you when Detective Graves said Nathan Barker’s name … I knew you weren’t telling me something. I kept hoping you would.”

“I’ve tried very hard to put Nathan in my past. You were one of the few things in my life he hadn’t infected. I wanted to keep it that way.”

His grip on my hand tightened. “Tell me the truth. Are you okay?”

“Dad. I’m the same daughter you came to see a couple weeks ago. The same daughter who hung out with you in San Diego. I’m
okay
.”

“You were pregnant—” His voice broke and a tear slid down his cheek.

I brushed it away, ignoring my own. “And I will be again someday. Maybe more than once. Maybe you’ll be crawling with grandkids.”

“Come
here.”

Leaning across the console, he hugged me. We sat in the car for a long time, crying. Getting it out.

Was Gideon watching the security feeds, sending me silent support? It gave me comfort to think he might be.

D
INNER
out that night wasn’t quite as boisterous a meal as usual for Cary, my dad, and me, but it wasn’t as grim as I’d feared it might be. The food was great, the wine better, and Cary was snarking out.

“She was worse than Tatiana,” he said, talking about the model he’d shared the shoot with that day. “She kept going on about her ‘good side,’ which I personally thought was her ass as it walked out the door.”

“You’ve done shoots with Tatiana?” I asked, then explained to my dad, “She’s a girl Cary’s seeing.”

“Oh, yeah.” Cary licked red wine off his lower lip. “We work together a lot, actually. I’m the Tatiana Tamer. She starts one of her fits and I calm her down.”

“How do— Never mind,” I said quickly. “I don’t want to know how.”

“You already know.” He winked.

I looked at my dad and rolled my eyes.

“How about you, Victor?” Cary asked around a bite of sautéed mushroom. “You seeing anyone?”

My dad shrugged. “Nothing serious.”

That was by his choice. I’d seen how women acted around him—they fell all over themselves trying to get his attention. My dad was hot, with an amazing body, gorgeous face, and Latin sensuality. He had his pick of women and I knew he wasn’t a saint, but he never seemed to meet anyone who really got to him. I’d recently realized that was because my mother had gotten there first.

“You
think you’ll ever have more kids?” Cary asked him, surprising me with the question.

I’d long ago become resigned to being an only child.

My dad shook his head. “Not that I’m opposed to the idea, but Eva is more than I ever thought I’d have in my life.” He looked at me with so much love it made my throat tight. “And she’s perfect. Everything I could ever hope for. I’m not sure there’s room in my heart for anyone else.”

“Aw, Daddy.” I leaned my head into his shoulder, so glad he was with me, even if it was for the worst possible reason.

When we got back to the apartment, we decided to watch a movie before calling it a night. I went to my room to change and was stoked to find a gorgeous bouquet of white roses on my dresser. The card, written in Gideon’s distinctive bold penmanship, made me almost giddy.

I’M THINKING OF YOU, AS ALWAYS.
AND I’M HERE.
YOURS, G.

I sat on the bed, hugging the card, certain he was thinking of me that very moment. It was also starting to sink in that he’d been thinking of me every moment of the weeks we’d been apart, too.

That night, I fell asleep on the couch after watching
Dredd
. I woke briefly to the feeling of being lifted and carried to my room, smiling sleepily as my dad tucked me into bed like a child and kissed my forehead.

“Love you, Daddy,” I murmured.

“Love you, too, sweetheart.”

I woke up before my alarm the next morning and felt better than I had in a long while. I left a note on the breakfast bar telling my dad to call
me if he wanted to get together for lunch. I wasn’t sure if he had anything planned for the day. I knew Cary had a shoot in the afternoon.

During the cab ride to work, I answered a text from Shawna squeeing over her brother’s engagement to Mark. So happy for all of u, I texted back.

I’m drafting u! she shot back.

I smiled down at my phone. What’s that? Signal’s breaking up … Can’t read u …

As the cab stopped in front of the Crossfire, the sight of the Bentley at the curb gave me the usual thrill. When I hopped out, I peeked into the front seat and waved when I saw Angus sitting inside.

He stepped out, setting his chauffeur hat on his head. Like Clancy, you couldn’t tell he was carrying a sidearm by looking at him; he wore it so comfortably.

“Good morning, Miss Tramell,” he greeted me. Although he wasn’t a young man and his red hair was liberally threaded with silver, I’d never had any doubts about Angus’s ability to protect Gideon.

“Hi, Angus. It’s good to see you.”

“You’re looking lovely today.”

I glanced down at my pale yellow dress. I’d chosen it because it was bright and cheery, which was the impression I wanted my dad to have of me. “Thank you. I hope your day rocks.” I backed up toward the revolving door. “See you later!”

His pale blue eyes were kind as he tipped his hat to me.

When I got upstairs, I found Megumi looking more like her usual self. Her smile was wide and real, and her eyes had the sparkle I enjoyed seeing every morning.

I stopped by her desk. “How are you?”

“Good. Michael’s meeting me for lunch and I’m ending it. Nice and civilized.”

“That’s a killer outfit you’ve got on,” I told her, admiring the emerald
green dress she wore. It was fitted and had leather piping that gave it just the right amount of edge.

She stood and showed off her knee-high boots.

“Very Kalinda Sharma,” I said. “He’s going to be scrambling to hold on to you.”

“As if,” she scoffed. “These boots were made for walking. He didn’t call me back until last night, which made it nearly four days without contact. Not totally unreasonable, but I’m ready to find a guy who’s crazy about me. A guy who thinks about me as much as I’m thinking about him and hates it when we can’t be together.”

I nodded, thinking about Gideon. “It’s worth it to hold out for one. Do you want me to give you a bailout phone call during your lunch?”

She grinned. “Nah. But thank you.”

“All right. Let me know if you change your mind.”

I headed back to my desk and dug right in to work, determined to get ahead to make up for leaving early the day before. Mark was fired up, too, segueing from work only long enough to tell me that Steven had a binder full of wedding ideas he’d been collecting for years.

“Why am I not surprised?” I said.

“I shouldn’t be.” Mark’s mouth curved with affection. “He’s kept it in his office all this time so I wouldn’t know about it.”

“Did you get a look at it?”

“He went through the whole thing with me. It took
hours
.”

“You’re going to have the wedding of the century,” I teased.

“Yeah.” The word held more than a little exasperation, but his expression remained so happy I couldn’t stop smiling.

My dad called just before eleven.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, in reply to my usual work greeting. “How’s your day going?”

“Great.” I leaned back in my chair and looked at the picture of him. “How’d you sleep?”

“Hard.
I’m still trying to wake up.”

“Why? Go back to bed and be lazy.”

“I wanted to let you know that I’m going to take a rain check on lunch. We’ll get together tomorrow. Today, I need to talk to your mom.”

“Oh.” I knew that tone. It was the same one he used when he pulled people over, that perfect mixture of authority and disapproval. “Listen. I’m not going to step in the middle of this with you two. You’re both adults and I’m not picking sides. But I have to say that Mom wanted to tell you.”

“She should have.”

“She was alone,” I pressed on, my feet tapping restlessly on the carpet, “going through a divorce and the trial against Nathan, and dealing with my recovery. I’m sure she desperately wanted a shoulder to lean on—you know how she is. But she was drowning in guilt. I could’ve gotten her to agree to anything then, and I did.”

He was quiet on the other end of the line.

“I just want you to keep that in mind when you talk to her,” I finished.

“All right. When will you be home?”

“A little after five. Want to go to the gym? Or back to Parker’s studio?”

“Let me see how I’m feeling when you get in,” he said.

“Okay.” I forced myself to ignore how anxious I was over the upcoming conversation between my parents. “Call me if you need anything.”

We hung up and I got back to work, grateful for the distraction.

When lunch rolled around, I decided to grab something quick and bring it back to my desk to work through the hour. I braved the midday sauna outside to hit the local Duane Reade for a bag of beef jerky and a bottled health drink. I’d skipped my workouts pretty frequently since Gideon and I had gotten back together, and I figured it was time to pay a penalty for that.

I
was debating the wisdom of sending Gideon an “I’m thinking of you” note when I twirled through the revolving front door of the Crossfire. Just a little something to say thanks for the flowers, which had made a tough day more bearable.

Then I saw the woman I’d prefer never to see again—Corinne Giroux. And she was talking to my man, with her palm resting intimately against his chest.