Entwined with You: A Crossfire Novel

MONDAY MORNING. TIME to go to work. I hadn’t heard from my dad, so I got ready to head in. I was digging in my closet when a knock came on my bedroom door.

“Come in,” I yelled.

A minute later, I heard Cary shout back, “Where the hell are you?”

“In here.”

His shadow darkened the doorway. “Any word from your dad?”

I glanced at him. “Not yet. I sent him a text and didn’t get a reply.”

“So he’s still on the plane.”

“Or he missed a connection. Who knows?” I scowled at my clothes.

“Here.” He came in and stepped around me, pulling a pair of gray linen palazzo pants off the bottom rack and a black lace cap-sleeved shirt.

“Thank you.” And because he was close, I hugged him.

His returning hug was so tight it squeezed the air out of me. Startled by his exuberance, I held him for a long while, my cheek over his heart. For the first time in a few days, he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and as usual, he managed to look striking and expensive.

“Everything okay?” I asked him.

“I miss you, baby girl,” he murmured into my hair.

“Just trying to make sure you don’t get sick of me.” I tried to sound like I was teasing, but his tone niggled at me. It lacked all the vivacity I was so used to hearing in it. “I’m taking a cab to work, so I’ve got some time. Why don’t we have a cup of coffee?”

“Yeah.” He pulled back and smiled at me, looking boyishly beautiful.

Taking my hand, he led me out of the closet. I tossed my clothes on an armchair before we headed out to the kitchen.

“Are you going out?” I asked.

“I’ve got a shoot today.”

“Well, that’s good news!” I headed to the coffeemaker while he went to pull half-and-half out of the fridge. “Sounds like another occasion to dig into the case of Cristal.”

“No way,” he scoffed. “Not with everything that’s going on with your dad.”

“What else are we going to do? Sit around staring at each other? There’s nothing more that can be done. Nathan is dead and even if he weren’t, what he did to me is long over.” I pushed a steaming mug over to him and filled another. “I’m ready to shove his memory in a cold, dark hole and forget about him.”

“Over for you.” He lightened my coffee and slid it back. “It’s still news to your dad. He’ll want to talk about it.”

“I am not talking about it with my dad. I’m not talking about it ever.”

“He might not go along with that.”

I turned and faced him, leaning back into the counter with my mug cradled between my hands. “All he needs is to see me doing okay. This isn’t about him. It’s about me, and I’m surviving. Pretty well, I think.”

He stirred his coffee, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Yeah, you are,” he said after a few seconds. “Are you going to tell him about your mystery man?”

“He’s not a mystery. I just can’t talk about him, and that has nothing to do with our friendship. I trust you and love you and rely on you like always.”

His green eyes challenged me over the rim of his mug. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“You’re my best friend. When I’m old and gray, you’ll still be my best friend. Not talking about the guy I’m seeing isn’t going to change that.”

“How am I not supposed to feel like you don’t trust me? What’s the big deal with this guy that you can’t even give me a name or anything?”

I sighed and told him a partial truth. “I don’t know his name.”

Cary stilled, staring. “You’re shitting me.”

“I never asked him what it is.” As evasive answers went, it begged to be challenged. Cary gave me a long look.

“And I’m not supposed to be worried?”

“Nope. I’m comfortable with the whole thing. We’re both getting what we need and he cares about me.”

He studied me. “What do you call him when you’re coming? You’ve got to be shouting something if he’s any good at it. Which I assume he is, since you obviously aren’t getting to know each other by talking.”

“Uh . . .” That tripped me up. “I think I just say, ‘Oh, God!’”

Throwing his head back, he laughed.

“How are you holding up with juggling two relationships?” I asked.

“I’m good.” He shoved one hand in his pocket and rocked back on his heels. “I think Tat and Trey are as close to monogamy as I’ve ever been. It’s working out for me so far.”

I found the whole arrangement fascinating. “Ever worry about shouting out the wrong name when you’re coming?”

His green eyes sparkled. “Nope. I just call ’em all baby.”

“Cary.” I shook my head. He was incorrigible. “Are you going to introduce Tatiana to Trey?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“No?”

“Tatiana’s a bitch on a good day, and Trey’s just a nice guy. Not a great combo, in my book.”

“You once told me you didn’t like Tatiana very much. Has that changed?”

“She is who she is,” he said dismissively. “I can live with it.”

I stared at him.

“She needs me, Eva,” he said quietly. “Trey wants me, and I think he loves me, but he doesn’t need me.”

That I understood. It was nice to be needed sometimes. “Gotcha.”

“Who says there’s only one person in the world who can give us everything?” He snorted. “I’m not sure I’m buying that. Look at you and your no-name guy.”

“Maybe a mix-and-match situation can work for people who don’t get jealous. It wouldn’t work for me.”

“Yeah.” He held out his mug and I tapped it with my own.

“So Cristal and . . . ?”

“Hmm . . .” His lips pursed. “Tapas?”

I blinked. “You want to take my dad out?”

“Bad idea?”

“It’s a great idea, if we can get him to go along with it.” I smiled. “You rock, Cary.”

He winked at me and I felt a little more settled.

Everything in my life seemed to be shaken up, most especially my relationships with the people I loved most. That was hard for me to deal with, because I relied on them to keep me on an even keel. But maybe when everything settled down, I’d be a bit stronger. Able to stand a bit straighter on my own.

It would be worth all the turmoil and pain if so.

“Want me to fix your hair?” Cary asked.

I nodded. “Please.”

* * *

WHEN I got to work, I was disappointed to find a very unhappy Megumi. She gave me a lethargic wave as she buzzed me in, then dropped back into her chair.

“Girl, you need to kick Michael to the curb,” I said. “This is not working out for you.”

“I know.” She brushed back the long bangs of her asymmetrical bob. “I’m going to break it off the next time I see him. I haven’t heard from him since Friday, and I’m driving myself crazy wondering if he picked up anyone while doing his bachelor barhopping thing.”

“Eww.”

“I know, right? It’s just not cool worrying about if the guy you’re sleeping with is shagging someone else.”

I couldn’t help but be reminded of my earlier conversation with Cary. “Me and Ben and Jerry’s are only a phone call away. Holler if you need us.”

“Is that your secret?” She gave a short laugh. “What flavor got you over Gideon Cross?”

“I’m not over him,” I admitted.

She nodded sagely. “I knew that. But you had fun on Saturday, right? And he’s an idiot, by the way. One day, he’s going to figure that out and coming crawling back.”

“He called my mom over the weekend,” I said, leaning over the desk and lowering my voice. “Asking about me.”

“Whoa.” Megumi leaned forward, too. “What did he say?”

“I don’t know the details.”

“Would you get back together with him?”

I shrugged. “I can’t say. Depends on how well he grovels.”

“Totally.” She high-fived me. “Your hair looks great, by the way.”

I thanked her and headed to my cubicle, mentally preparing my request to take off from work if my dad called. I’d barely turned the corner at the end of the hall when Mark bounded out of his office with a huge grin.

“Oh my God.” I stopped midstep. “You look insanely happy. Let me guess. You’re engaged!”

“I am!”

“Yay!” I dropped my purse and bag on the floor and clapped. “I’m so excited for you! Congratulations.”

Bending down, he picked up my stuff. “Come into my office.”

He gestured me in ahead of him, then closed the glass door behind us.

“Was it tough?” I asked him, taking a seat in front of his desk.

“Toughest thing I’ve ever done.” Mark handed me my bags. Sinking into his chair, he rocked back and forth. “And Steven let me stew over it. Can you believe that? He knew all along I was going to propose. Said he could tell by how I freaked out I was.”

I grinned. “He knows you well.”

“And he waited a minute or two before he answered me. And let me tell you, it seemed like hours.”

“I bet. So was all of his anti-marriage talk a front?”

He nodded, still grinning. “His pride took a hit when I put him off before, so he wanted a little payback. Said he’d always known I’d come around eventually. Wanted to make me work for it when I finally did.”

It sounded like Steven, who was playful and gregarious. “So where did you pop the question?”

He laughed. “I couldn’t do it somewhere with atmosphere, right? Like the candlelit restaurant or the nice dark bar after the show. No, I had to wait until the limo dropped us off at home at the end of the night and we were standing outside our brownstone and I knew I was going to lose my chance. So I just blurted it out right there on the street.”

“I think that’s really romantic.”

“I think you’re a romantic,” he shot back.

“Who cares about wine and roses? Anyone can do that. Showing somebody you can’t live without them? That’s romance.”

“As usual, you make a good point.”

I blew on my nails and buffed them on my shirt. “What can I say?”

“I’ll let Steven give you all the details at lunch on Wednesday. He’s told the story so many times already, he’s got the delivery down pat.”

“I can’t wait to see him.” As excited as Mark was, I was sure Steven was bouncing off the walls. The big, muscled contractor had a personality as vibrant as his bright red hair. “I’m so thrilled for you both.”

“He’s going to rope you into helping Shawna with the planning, you know that, right?” He sat up and set his elbows on the table. “Besides his sister, he’s recruiting every woman we know. I’m sure the whole thing will be over-the-top craziness all the way.”

“Sounds fun!”

“You say that now,” he warned, his dark eyes laughing. “Let’s grab some coffee and get this week started, shall we?”

I stood. “Um, I hate to ask this, but my dad is making an emergency trip into the city this week. I’m not sure when he’ll be coming in. It could be today. I’ll need to pick him up and get him settled when he arrives.”

“Do you need to take some time off?”

“Just to get him situated in my apartment. A few hours at most.”

Mark nodded. “You said ‘emergency trip.’ Is everything all right?”

“It will be.”

“Okay. I don’t have a problem with you taking time when you need it.”

“Thank you.”

As I dropped my stuff off at my desk, I thought—for the millionth time—how much I loved my job and my boss. I understood how much Gideon wanted to keep me close and I appreciated the vision of us building something together, but my work nurtured me as an individual. I didn’t want to give that up, and I didn’t want to end up resenting him if he kept pushing me to do so. I’d have to come up with an argument Gideon would accept.

I started working on it as Mark and I headed to the break room.

* * *

ALTHOUGH Megumi hadn’t yet kissed Michael good-bye, I took her out to lunch at a nearby deli with delicious wraps and a decent selection of Ben & Jerry cups. I chose Chunky Monkey, she went with Cherry Garcia, and we both enjoyed the cool treat in the middle of the hot day.

We sat at a small metal table in the back, the remnants of our lunch on a tray between us. The deli wasn’t as crazed during the noon hour as some of the other restaurants and full-service eateries in the area were, which suited us both fine. We could hold a conversation without raising our voices.

“Mark’s floating,” she said, licking her spoon. She wore a lime green dress that went really well with her dark hair and pale skin. Megumi always dressed in bold colors and styles. I envied her ability to pull them off so well.

“I know.” I smiled. “It’s so cool to see someone that happy.”

“Guilt-free happiness. Unlike this ice cream.”

“What’s a little guilt every now and then?”

“A fat ass?”

I groaned. “Thanks for the reminder that I have to hit the gym today. I haven’t worked out in days.”

Unless one counted mattress gymnastics . . .

“How do you stay motivated?” she asked me. “I know I should go, but I can always find an excuse not to.”

“And you keep that amazing figure anyway?” I shook my head. “You make me sick.”

Her lips quirked. “Where do you work out?”

“I alternate between a regular gym and a Krav Maga studio in Brooklyn.”

“Do you go after work or before?”

“After. I am not a morning person,” I said. “Sleep is my friend.”

“Would you mind if I tag along sometime? I don’t know about that Krav what-a, but the gym. Where do you go?”

I swallowed a bit of chocolate and was about to reply when I heard a phone ringing.

“Are you going to get that?” Megumi asked, which alerted me to the fact that the phone was mine.

The burner phone, which was why I didn’t recognize it.

I dug it out quickly and answered with a breathless “Hello?”

“Angel.”

For a second, I savored the rasp of Gideon’s voice. “Hey. What’s up?”

“My attorneys just notified me that the police might have a suspect.”

“What?” My heart stopped. My stomach began to revolt against lunch. “Oh my God.”

“It’s not me.”

* * *

I don’t remember getting back to the office. When Megumi asked me for the name of my gym, she had to ask twice. The fear I felt was like nothing I’d ever suffered before. It was so much worse when you felt it on behalf of someone you loved.

How could the police possibly suspect someone else?

I had the horrible feeling they were just trying to shake Gideon up. Shake me up.

If that was the goal, it was working. At least on me. Gideon had sounded calm and collected during our brief conversation. He’d told me not to get upset, that he just wanted to warn me that the police might come by with more questions. Or they might not.

Jesus. I walked slowly back to my desk, my nerves shot. I felt like I’d gulped down an entire pot of coffee. My hands were trembling and my heart was beating too fast.

I sat down at my desk and tried to get back to work, but I couldn’t concentrate. I stared at my monitor and didn’t see anything.

What if the police did have a suspect who wasn’t Gideon? What would we do? We couldn’t let an innocent person go to prison.

And yet there was a tiny voice in my head whispering that Gideon would be safe from prosecution if someone else were convicted of the crime.

The moment the thought entered my mind, I felt sick over it. My gaze went to the photo of my dad. He was in his uniform, looking dashingly handsome standing next to his patrol car.

I was so confused, so frightened.

When my smartphone started vibrating on my desk, I jumped. Dad’s name and number flashed on the screen. I answered quickly. “Hey! Where are you?”

“Cincinnati. I’m switching planes.”

“Hang on, let me write down your flight info.” I snagged a pen and jotted down the details he gave me. “I’ll be waiting for you when you land. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah . . . Eva. Sweetheart.” He sighed heavily. “I’ll see you soon.”

He hung up, and the subsequent silence was deafening. I knew then that the strongest emotion he was feeling was guilt. It colored his voice and made my chest ache.

Standing, I made my way over to Mark’s office. “I just heard from my dad. His flight lands at LaGuardia in a couple hours.”

He looked at me, then frowned, his gaze searching. “So go home, get ready, and pick him up.”

“Thanks.” That one word would have to do. Mark seemed to understand that I didn’t want to stick around and talk.

* * *

I used the burner phone to send a text while I took a cab ride home: Heading to the apt. Leaving in 1 hour to get dad. Can u talk?

I needed to know what Gideon was thinking . . . how he was feeling. I was a wreck and I didn’t know what to do about it.

When I got home, I changed into a simple, lightweight summer dress and sandals. I answered a text from Martin, agreeing that it was great we’d hung out Saturday night and that we should do it again. I double-checked the kitchen, making sure all of my dad’s favorite foods that I’d stocked up on were exactly where I’d put them. I checked the guest room again, even though I’d gone over it the day before. I got online and checked my dad’s flight.

Done. I had enough time left over to drive myself crazy.

I did a search for “Corinne Giroux and husband” on Google, looking specifically at images.

What I discovered was that Jean-François Giroux was a really good-looking guy. Hot, actually. Not as hot as Gideon, but then who was? Gideon was in a league by himself, but Jean-François was a head-turner in his own right, with dark wavy hair and eyes the color of pale jade. He was tan and had a goatee, which really worked for him. He and Corinne made a stunning couple.

My burner phone rang and I lunged to my feet in a rush, stumbling around the coffee table to get to it. I snatched it out of my purse and answered, “Hello?”

“I’m next door,” Gideon said. “I don’t have a lot of time.”

“I’m coming.”

I grabbed my purse and left my place. One of my neighbors was just unlocking her door, so I offered a polite, distant smile and pretended to wait for the elevator. The moment I heard her go inside her apartment, I darted over to Gideon’s door. It opened before I could use my key.

The Gideon who greeted me was in jeans and T-shirt, with a ball cap on his head. He caught my hand and pulled me inside, tugging the hat off before lowering his mouth to mine. His kiss was surprisingly sweet, his firm lips soft and warm.

I dropped my purse and wrapped my arms around him, snuggling into him. The feel of his strength eased my anxiety enough to allow me to take a deep breath.

“Hi,” he murmured.

“You didn’t have to come home.” I could only imagine how doing so had disrupted his day. Changing clothes, making the trip back and forth . . .

“Yes, I did. You need me.” His hands slid up my back, and then he pulled away just enough to look down into my face. “Don’t worry about this, Eva. I’ll take care of it.”

“How?”

His blue eyes were cool, his expression one of confidence. “Right now, I’m waiting on more information. Who are they looking at? Why are they looking at him? Chances are very good that it won’t pan out. You know that.”

I search his face. “What if they do?”

“Will I let someone else pay for my crime?” His jaw tightened. “Is that what you’re asking?”

“No.” I smoothed his brow with my fingertips. “I know you won’t let that happen. I’m just wondering how you’ll prevent it.”

His scowl deepened. “You’re asking me to predict the future, Eva. I can’t do that. You just have to trust me.”

“I do,” I promised fervently. “But I’m still scared. I can’t help being freaked out.”

“I know. I’m worried, too.” His thumb brushed over my bottom lip. “Detective Graves is a very intelligent woman.”

His observation clicked with me. “You’re right. That makes me feel better.”

I didn’t know Shelley Graves, not really. But in the few interactions I’d had with her, she’d struck me as being intelligent and street-smart. I hadn’t factored her into the equation, and I should have. It was odd to be in a position where I both feared who she was and appreciated it.

“You set up for your dad?”

The reminder brought some of the jitters back. “Everything’s ready. Except me.”

His eyes softened. “Any idea how you’re going to handle him?”

“Cary went back to work today, so we’ll celebrate with champagne and then head out to dinner.”

“You think he’s going to be up for that?”

“I don’t know if I’m up for it,” I admitted. “It’s screwy to be making plans to drink Cristal and kick up my heels in the middle of everything going on. But what else can I do? If my dad doesn’t see I’m okay, he’s not going to get over finding out about Nathan. I have to show him all of that ugliness is in the past.”

“And you need to let me handle the rest,” he admonished. “I will take care of you, of us. Focus on your family for a while.”

Stepping back, I grabbed his hand and led him toward the couch. It was weird being home so early after going in to work. Seeing the brightness of the afternoon sun beating down on the city outside the windows had me feeling out of step, reinforcing the notion that we’d stolen time to be together.

I sat, curled my legs, and faced him, watching as he settled beside me. We were so alike in many ways, including our pasts. Did Gideon need to get everything out in the open with his family, too? Is that what he’d need to fully heal?

“I know you have to get back to work,” I said, “but I’m glad you came home for me. You’re right—I needed to see you.”

He lifted my hand to his lips. “Do you know when your father’s heading back to California?”

“No.”

“My appointment with Dr. Petersen would’ve made tomorrow a late night for us anyway.” Gideon looked at me with a slight smile. “We’ll find a way to be together.”

Having him near . . . touching him . . . seeing him smile . . . hearing those words. I could get through anything as long as I had him next to me after a long day.

“Can I have five minutes?” I asked.

“You can have whatever you want, angel,” he said softly.

“Just this.” I slid closer and curved into his side.

Gideon’s arm came around my shoulders. Our hands linked together in our laps. We formed a perfect circle. Not as glittering as the rings we wore on our fingers, but priceless all the same.

After a moment, I felt him lean into me. He sighed. “I needed this, too.”

I hugged him tighter. “It’s okay to need me, ace.”

“I wish I needed you a little less. Just enough to make it bearable.”

“What would be the fun in that?”

His soft laugh made me fall even harder for him.

* * *

GIDEON had been right about the DB9. As I watched the parking attendant pull the sleek metallic gray Aston Martin to a stop in front of me, I thought it was pretty much Gideon on wheels. It was sex with a gas pedal; so much brute elegance it damn near made my toes curl.

I was scared as hell to get behind the wheel.

Driving in New York was nothing like driving in Southern California. I hesitated before accepting the keys from the bow-tied attendant, debating the wisdom of just calling for a town car.

The burner phone started ringing and I fumbled for it quickly. “Hello?”

“Just do it,” Gideon purred. “Stop worrying and drive it.”

I spun around, my gaze searching for security cameras. Awareness shivered down my spine. I could feel Gideon’s gaze on me. “What are you doing?”

“Wishing I were with you. I’d love to spread you across the hood and fuck you real slow. Push my cock deep inside you. Give those shocks a workout. Umm. God, I’m hard.”

And he was making me wet. I could listen to him endlessly; I loved his voice so much. “I’m scared I’m going to screw up your pretty car.”

“I don’t give a shit about the car, only about your safety. So scratch it up all you want, just don’t get hurt.”

“If that was supposed to calm me down, it didn’t work.”

“We could have phone sex until you come, that should do it.”

I narrowed my gaze at the parking attendants, who were pretending not to watch me. “Should I be worried about what got you so horny in the short time since I was with you?”

“Thinking about you driving the DB9 turns me on.”

“Does it now?” I fought to hold back a smile. “Remind me, which one of us has the transportation fetish?”

“Slide behind the wheel,” he coaxed. “Imagine I’m in the passenger seat. My hand between your legs. My fingers fucking your soft, slick cunt.”

Stepping closer to the car on shaky legs, I muttered, “You must have a death wish.”

“I’d take my cock out and stroke it with my fist while I fingered you, get us both good and hot.”

“Your lack of respect for this vehicle’s upholstery is appalling.” I settled into the driver’s seat and spent a minute figuring out how to move it forward.

His voice rasped through the car’s sound system. “How does it feel?”

It totally figured that he’d synced my burner phone to the car’s Bluetooth. Gideon always thought of everything.

“Expensive,” I answered. “You’re crazy for letting me drive this.”

“I’m crazy about you,” he replied, sending delight skipping through me. “LaGuardia is programmed in the GPS.”

It made me feel good to know that coming home to see me had lightened his mood so much. I knew just how he felt. It meant a lot to know he felt the same way.

I pulled up the GPS, then hit the button to put the transmission into drive. “You know what, ace? I want to blow you while you’re driving this thing. Throw a pillow across this center console here and suck your cock for miles.”

“I’m going to take you up on that. Tell me how she feels.”

“Smooth. Powerful.” I waved at the attendants as I eased out of the subterranean parking garage. “Very responsive.”

“Just like you,” he murmured. “Of course, you’re my favorite ride.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, baby. And you’re my favorite joystick.” I merged carefully into traffic.

He laughed. “I better be your only joystick.”

“But I’m not your only ride,” I pointed out, loving him so much in that moment because I knew he was looking out for me, making sure I was comfortable. Back in California, driving had been like breathing to me, but I hadn’t been behind the wheel of a car since I moved to New York.

“You’re the only one I enjoy naked,” he said.

“That’s real lucky for you, because I’m very possessive.”

“I know.” His voice was filled with masculine satisfaction.

“Where are you?”

“At work.”

“Multitasking, I’m sure.” I stepped on the gas and prayed as I cut across lanes. “What’s a little calming distraction for your girlfriend in the midst of world entertainment domination?”

“I’d stop the world from spinning for you.”

That silly line oddly touched me. “I love you.”

“Liked that one, did you?”

I grinned, startled and pleased by his ridiculous sense of humor.

I was hyperaware of my surroundings. There were signs in every direction prohibiting everything. Driving in Manhattan was a fast trip to nowhere. “Hey, I can’t turn left or right. I think I’m heading for the Midtown Tunnel. I could lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me, angel,” he vowed. “Wherever you go, however far, I’ll be right here with you.”

* * *

WHEN 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.”