Castle Investigations Box Set

by Dee Bridgnorth

  "I'm sure he loved me. But I don’t think he liked me very much. He was so angry. So disappointed in me. I let him down." Ethan finally voiced the thoughts that had plagued him for years.

  Farrah stomped closer to Ethan, grabbing his arm and whirling him around to face her. "Is that what you think? Is that what you've thought all these years?"

  She must have seen the answer in his face.

  "Oh, Ethan, I’m so sorry. I should have known. I should have told you."

  She cupped his cheek again, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Your daddy loved you fiercely. He was disappointed that you didn’t want to follow in his footsteps—"

  Ethan's gaze fell.

  "At first," she interjected. "But he was so damn proud of you."

  Ethan met her eyes again. He was afraid to hope. Could it be true? Could his dad have been proud of him?

  "So damn proud," she repeated. "He told everyone his son was a Marine. He couldn't have been more pleased, and was so excited to see you when you came home. He couldn't wait to hear all the stories of your time in boot camp. But then—"

  Tears filled her eyes, spilling over her cheeks. "That heart attack came out of nowhere. And I know how badly he wanted to tell you how proud he was of you. I let my own grief get in the way. I should have known—I should have told you…"

  Ethan pulled her into a hug, stroking her long hair. "Mom, stop. It's not your fault."

  "Nor is it yours, Ethan Brooks." Her face filled with determination as she met his gaze. "Your daddy wouldn't have wanted you to feel this way. He would have wanted you to be happy. He would have loved Isabel like his own daughter."

  Ethan felt tears prick the backs of his eyes. He wasn't really a crier. Hated it. But he couldn't help the flood of emotions that arrived as he listened to such precious words coming out of his mother’s mouth.

  He'd had no idea that his dad had been proud. Ethan had lived with the guilt of his father's death for years. Guilt that maybe it was Ethan's departure that had put the added stress on his dad and caused the heart attack. Guilt that he'd never told his dad he loved him. Guilt that he hadn't followed in his dad's footsteps.

  Now his mother was giving him a gift.

  Absolution. His dad had been proud. Had loved him. Had been excited to see him. What he wouldn't give to have him alive here today, standing by his side.

  "Thank you, mom," he whispered into her hair.

  Farrah squeezed him tightly, stroking his back like she’d done when he was a child.

  "You're welcome. Now, let's get you hitched to that beautiful woman again, shall we?" she said, holding out her arm to loop through his.

  A car was waiting for them out front, and they made the short drive to the Arboretum. They walked down the path to where the striking white columns stood proudly among the beauty of the gardens. Chairs were lined up in two rows, facing the spot where Ethan would declare, in front of God and everyone, that he promised to love, honor, and cherish Isabel for the rest of his life.

  There weren't that many guests here today. Sully, Ethan's mom, their teammates and wives, Emery—Scarlett's little sister, and Isabel's foster parents. He'd met them the night before.

  Mr. and Mrs. Douglas were polite people, although not very warm or affectionate. They'd taken Isabel's hand in theirs—not quite a handshake, but neither did they hug her. Isabel had explained to Ethan that she was grateful to her foster parents. They had provided for her—had kept her off the streets. But Sully was her family. And now Ethan was, too.

  Ethan stood in front of the rows of chairs, by the minister who would pronounce them husband and wife. They'd hired a single cellist to play the music, and the first strums of the processional began as Scarlett walked down the aisle in a pale blue dress that wrapped around her middle and gathered on one side, the hem falling at her feet. Her red hair was a bright contrast to the dress, and even Ethan could recognize that she was beautiful.

  Just not as beautiful as the woman who appeared next. Isabel was dressed in a simple, off-the-shoulder gown of white lace that just hit the tips of her toes. Her hair was loose around her face, and she wore just a hint of makeup. The flowers she held in her hands appeared to have been freshly picked from someone's garden, although Ethan knew that she'd ordered them a couple of weeks before from a florist. Wildflowers of purple, yellow, and white sprang out in all directions. She smiled at him as she looped her arm through Sully's.

  Sully, dressed in a gray suit and light blue tie like Ethan, walked Isabel the short distance down the aisle to him. Sully pressed a kiss to her cheek, and then placed her hands in Ethan's. With a quick squeeze of his shoulder, Sully took his place next to the groom.

  The minister said some words, and then he and Isabel repeated some vows, but through all of it, Ethan stood unable to believe that Isabel was truly his. Her beauty, both outward and within, shone from her like a beacon in the night. She was his. And he planned to spend the rest of his life showing her how much he loved and adored her.

  When the minister told him to kiss his bride, he smiled, having felt like this moment would never come. Bending down, he pressed a kiss to her lips. Unable to help himself, he deepened the kiss until whooping and laughing broke through his desire-filled haze.

  When he lifted his head, Isabel was smiling, and he knew that his own smile mirrored hers.

  "I love you," he whispered, just to her.

  "I love you, too."

  * * * *

  They held the after-party at the warehouse. The guys had pushed the boxing ring into a corner, and the first floor had been made into a makeshift banquet hall. Caterers bustled to and fro with the best Southern cooking Ethan had eaten in a very long time. Isabel had humored him and had ordered fried chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, and banana pudding for the menu.

  They went through all the rituals of a reception—the cake cutting, the toasts, the first dances. Once the traditions were out of the way, they partied. Loud dance music pulsed from the speakers as everyone laughed and danced and celebrated.

  Isabel sauntered over to him, one hand on her hip as he sat at the table, taking in the festivities.

  "Mr. Brooks, what are you doing all the way over here?"

  "I was just resting, Mrs. Brooks." He loved that she'd agreed to take his name.

  Isabel sat down in his lap, looping her arms around his neck and pulling his head down for a sensual kiss. When she pulled away, she nodded across the room.

  "Do you think he's ok?" she asked.

  "Who? Zach?" he asked, trying to determine the direction of her thoughts.

  She nodded. "Why would you think he wasn't ok?"

  "He hasn't been the same since Quita left. I think he developed feelings for her while in Vegas. I don't even know if he realizes it."

  "Really? They only knew each other a couple of days," he protested.

  "And we got married before we even dated, so—"

  "I see your point."

  "Go talk to him," she urged.

  "But I want to stay here with you," he said, and then whispered in his ear what he planned to do to her later.

  She giggled but pushed him away, standing and putting that hand right back on her hip to scold him.

  "Go," she commanded, pointing towards Zach.

  "Fine, but you owe me," he grumbled. He rose, and she pulled him down to whisper in his ear. What she told him made him blush, and that wasn't an easy feat to accomplish.

  "I'm holding you to that," he said, and made his way over to Zach.

  Zach stood nursing a beer, seemingly lost in his thoughts. He didn't even notice Ethan until Ethan laid a hand on his arm.

  "You ok, man?"

  "Yeah, dude. Why wouldn't I be?"

  "You haven't been the same since we left Vegas."

  Zach sighed. "I'm just worried about her."

  "Haven't found anything yet?"

  "Not a damn thing."

  "Did something happen between you two?" Ethan asked, recognizing the signs
of someone who cared deeply about someone else.

  "What do you mean?" Zach asked.

  Ethan gave him a look that said that Zach knew exactly what he was talking about. Zach took a long pull from his beer bottle, then lowered it.

  "I was there with her at the hospital. Then, the night she risked her life to take those files, we had this moment. I thought maybe it meant something to her. I guess I was wrong."

  Ethan put his arm around him, clapping him on the back. "I’m sorry, man."

  "It's fine. Really. I've exhausted all my channels. I don't want to be too obvious, not with The General still lurking over us. But I've come up empty-handed with every search. She's just gone."

  Ethan grabbed a bottle of beer off the tray of a nearby server and tilted it back, taking a long swallow.

  Isabel walked over, and Ethan wrapped her in his arms.

  "Congratulations, Mrs. Brooks," Zach said, tipping his beer bottle towards her in a salute.

  "Thanks, Zach," she said, wrangling herself free of Ethan's hold. She placed a hand on Zach's shoulder. "Are you ok?"

  "Damn. I must really be putting off depressing vibes or something." He laughed self-deprecatingly and nodded. "I'm fine, Izz. Just worried about her."

  "I know. Me, too," Isabel said, then opened her mouth to say something else, when Zach's phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked at the screen, his brow wrinkling in confusion. Swiping the screen, he answered.

  "Harper…wait, what? I can't hear you. Hang on a second." Zach rushed to one of the rooms off to the side of the main hall. Ethan motioned for Isabel to follow as they dashed off after him. Ethan flipped the lights on, and Zach switched the phone to speaker.

  "Ok, Tobias…"

  Ethan's eyes jerked up to meet Zach's. Worry flickered across Isabel's face. Zach put his finger to his lips. "What do you want?"

  "I want the files. I know you have them," his cold voice rang out through the room.

  "What files?"

  "Don't play dumb with me. I've searched everywhere. I've spent weeks looking in all of Bruno's hidey holes—searched every nook and cranny in his offices and house—and I've come up empty."

  "Why do you think we have them?" Zach asked.

  "Because Bruno is dead, and your team is still alive. I would assume you've been working on the encryption all this time and have yet to crack it," Tobias said, with smug assurance in his voice.

  "Well, that was insulting," Zach deadpanned.

  "Cut the crap, Harper! I want the files. Bring them to me, or I'll start picking off your team members one at a time. Do you understand?"

  "We don't have the files, Tobias. They were stolen," Zach said, with more calm than Ethan could have managed after Tobias had just threatened their lives.

  "By whom?" Tobias asked, the skepticism clear in his voice.

  "Don't know. Just came back to the hotel, and the files were gone."

  There was a pause on the line—the silence deafening in the small room. "She took them," Tobias said softly. "Dammit, I should have known. That stupid whore!" His voice rose in volume, and the contrast to the silence from before was startling.

  "You're really starting to piss me off, Tobias," Zach said. Though his voice was calm, there was fury lying just below the surface.

  "If you find her, you bring her to me. Is that clear? I want those files. And I'll do whatever it takes to get them."

  The line went dead, and the room was filled with silence again. Only the sound of Zach's ragged breathing could be heard.

  Zach slammed his fist down on the small table that sat in the middle of the room.

  "We can't let him get those files," Isabel said.

  "He won't. I just have to find her before he does," Zach said.

  "What can we do?" Ethan asked.

  "Nothing. Go on your honeymoon. Enjoy yourselves. There's nothing you can do here. I'll find her."

  "But—" Isabel started to protest.

  "No," Zach said sharply. "Go. I mean it. It could take me weeks to find her. I'll let you know if anything changes. I promise."

  Ethan nodded and put his hand on Isabel's back to usher her back out to the party. When they reached the door, Sully stood in the doorway.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, taking in Isabel's concerned face.

  "Zach can fill you in," Ethan said.

  Sully shut the door behind them, and Ethan tugged Isabel out onto the dance floor.

  "It feels wrong being out here while Zach is worrying about Quita in there," Isabel said, her eyes darting to the room where Zach and Sully were.

  "Zach's right. There's nothing we can do. And I intend to enjoy every moment of the next two weeks." He nuzzled that place right below her ear and inhaled her intoxicating scent. She giggled and relaxed slightly in his arms.

  "Do you think he'll find her?" she asked softly.

  "When has Zach ever failed at something?" Ethan answered.

  "True," she said, and stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. "He'll find her. Just like you found me."

  "I'll never let anyone hurt you again," Ethan promised.

  "I know," she said quietly, closing her eyes as they swayed to the music. The words of Isabel's favorite love song fell around them as they danced.

  Ethan sang the words in her ear as he rocked back and forth with her in his arms.

  You look perfect tonight.

  "How long do we have to stay?" Ethan whispered, wanting more than anything to get her alone. Isabel laughed, tilting her head to meet his eyes. He loved to hear her laugh.

  "Until it's over," she said, touching her finger to his nose. "We'll have the next two weeks to ourselves. I think you can stay a little longer."

  "You overestimate my self-control." He dropped his head, placing his lips at the base of her throat. She turned her head up, giving him better access.

  "I thought they nicknamed you Stony in the Marines because of your stalwart self-control."

  Ethan lifted his head from her neck, capturing her lips with his own.

  "That was before I met you, Mrs. Brooks."

  In one fluid movement, Ethan swept Isabel off her feet and into his arms, carrying her towards the elevator and to her room. She yelped, but he silenced her protests with a kiss.

  "The guests will wonder where we went," she protested.

  "Let them wonder," he said.

  Alone at last, Ethan carried Isabel over the threshold of her room. He set her down on her feet, and she stood before him, her heart shining in her eyes. He was the luckiest man alive—so lucky that she'd taken a chance on him that night in Vegas—and it seemed they'd hit the jackpot.

  Epilogue

  The waves of the ocean rolled onto the beach, the sound of their crashing lulling Isabel into a peaceful state despite the nerves that were bubbling up inside her. The week had been something from a fairy tale. She and Ethan had spent every moment together lying on the beach, snorkeling, paddleboarding—and making love.

  She knew Ethan loved her, but she wasn't sure he was ready for what she had to tell him. It was killing her, though, keeping this secret. The time had come. With a deep breath, Isabel sat up and spun around to face Ethan in the lounge chair next to hers.

  He grinned, then pushed his sunglasses up, revealing his beautiful gray-green eyes. "Yes, darlin'?" he asked.

  "Ethan, I need to tell you something."

  The serious tone of her voice must have concerned him, because the smile dropped from his face, and he sat up abruptly, his knees touching hers, his hands tightly gripping her own.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing's wrong, exactly. I just—I have a surprise."

  "Oh, yeah? So why do you seem so nervous?" he asked, his thumbs caressing the tops of her hands.

  "I’m just worried that you may not like the surprise," she said. She just needed to tell him already, but her nerves kept her from it.

  "If you don't spit it out soon, I'm going to go crazy here, Izz," he said, lifting his palm to cup her cheek.


  "I'm pregnant," she blurted out, watching as Ethan's eyes went wide in shock.

  Damn it. She could have softened the blow a little more, or even waited until they were back home, where he could get away for a little bit and think things through. Instead, she'd blurted out this life-changing news like she was telling him about the latest story she'd heard on TV.

  Seconds passed as Ethan sat there with his mouth hanging open.

  "Ethan? Are you ok?" she asked. Great, she'd given him a stroke or something.

  With a whoop, Ethan stood, picking Isabel up in his arms. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his middle. Ethan buried his face in her hair.

  "I love you, woman," he said.

  "Does that mean you're happy?"

  He lowered her to the ground, cupping her face in his hands and pressing the most tender kiss to her lips.

  "Yes, I'm happy. You've made me happy. This baby"—he placed his hand on her abdomen, just below her navel—"this baby makes me happy."

  Relief washed over Isabel. She should have known. Should have realized that Ethan would be just as excited as she was.

  "Apparently, we weren't thinking about protection on our drunken night of fun in Las Vegas," she said, laughing as Ethan squeezed her more tightly.

  "All I was thinking about that night was how lucky I was to be with you, and how in the world I was going to keep you married to me when you came to your senses and realized you could do better."

  "We're going to have a baby," she said in awe.

  "A baby," he said, smiling as if all his dreams had come true. "Wait. What about your job?" he asked, a concerned expression replacing his smile.

  Isabel took his hand in hers and lowered herself back to the lounge chair. He sat facing her as he waited for her response.

  "I already talked with Sully. Not about the baby," she clarified quickly, before Ethan could think that she'd told Sully before telling him. "I told him that I wanted to just remain on as a profiler, and no longer take any undercover jobs."

  "Are you ok with that?" he asked, and she loved that he was genuinely concerned for her happiness. She loved that he supported her in whatever she wanted to do.