Gabe did.
When he finished, Carson issued a curse. “That didn’t come from anyone on my team. We sure as hell don’t send you in blind.”
The chill in Gabe’s gut turned to ice. “Fuck!”
Carson’s breathing changed, the sound of a man already moving fast. “Gabe. Where’s Felicity?”
“At the Airbnb. I told her I’d be back soon.”
“Call her. Now.”
He was already striding toward the parking structure. The world tunneled into a single, razor-sharp line of purpose. His pulse hammered, and his lungs burned. The familiar surge of adrenaline coiled in his spine.
He dialed Felicity as he yanked open his truck door and jumped in. He slammed the door hard enough to make the windows rattle as the engine roared to life. And in his ear, the phone rang.
And rang.
And kept ringing.
Dread flooded every inch of his body.
“Come on, bookshop. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.”
It went to voicemail.
He hung up and called again. And again.
Still nothing.
His hands tightened on the wheel until pain lanced up his arms. This was his fault. He’d let his guard down, trusted too easily.
And he’d left her vulnerable.
“I’m coming,” he whispered, voice ragged. He tore out of the airport, weaving into traffic, his mind already racing through scenarios and threats.
One belief throbbed in his chest, low and hard and undeniable.
Felicity was in danger.
And he was going to find her—or tear the world apart trying.
* * * * *
Felicity stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to tame her hair into a look that didn’t screamjust had frantic shower sex with my very intense ex-Marine boyfriend.
A small smile spread over her face. When she looked at her reflection, happiness glowed back at her.
She ran a brush through her hair, then lifted her fingers to fluff the waves back into place, her thoughts skittering in a dozen directions. So much had happened—the trip to Denver, the safe-deposit box Henry left her, the strange meeting with Andrew, and then that brief clash with Gabe.
At least their argument hadn’t lasted. Neither of them could stand hurting the other, and they were both adult enough to talk it out before it had a chance to become a bigger issue.
She drifted through the house, taking in the cozy warmth of the space while thinking about Gabe picking up that veteran.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She hurried to pick it up, staring at the unknown number on the screen. For aheartbeat, her stomach sank. Could something be wrong with Gabe? Or at the ranch?
She answered.
“Felicity St. James?” The voice was male and congenial. “It’s Andrew. Henry’s nephew.”
