Armed and Famous

by Jennifer Morey

  “I’ve been watching him. I’ve suspected for a while that he was dealing in illegal gun sales, and I’ve been trying to gather evidence against him.”

  “Why?”

  “I want him out of my life.”

  “Why is he in your life?”

  Her eyes were steady on his. She was a crafty woman, strong and self-sufficient, but he suspected she wasn’t always that way. She was in survival mode. And she didn’t want to answer him.

  “When I met him I didn’t know the kind of man he was.”

  The kind involved in illegal gun sales? How had she gotten herself involved with someone like that? “How did you meet him?” It hadn’t been at the coffee shop. Like the detectives, he could tell she lied about that.

  Her clear, beautiful green eyes stared up at him. Whatever had her tongue-tied was worse than anything that had occurred since she’d moved in. More dangerous than Wade’s fists. This was as dangerous as the dark-haired man who’d come to her house for the envelope.

  She put her hands on the edge of the counter. It made her breasts rise a little, drawing his attention there. He was afraid when his eyes lifted they held too much heat. But when he saw an answer in hers, he didn’t stop it.

  Stepping closer, he bent to bring his face right above hers and asked, “What was in the envelope?” His voice was gruff, unintentionally so.

  She drew in a breath and began to sidle away. He stopped her with his arms, putting his hands on the counter and caging her.

  Her gaze lowered to his mouth, as though the sound of his voice lulled her. Then she lifted her eyes. “Not enough. Just some paperwork from Wade’s store showing some missing inventory. Wade caught me before I could trace the illegal sales.”

  “You were going to try to find out where the sales went?”

  “I want to know the entire operation. Who’s involved. Sellers. Buyers.”

  “Why not leave it up to the ATF? They could have gone in and done an inspection.”

  She turned her head aside, avoiding him as much as she could while trapped by his arms. The sound of Maddie eating had a calming effect.

  Not calming enough. Remy wasn’t answering him.

  Cupping her chin gently, he brought her head facing him again, looking into her eyes.

  She closed hers. When she opened them, she began. “OneDefense has fifty-some odd stores around the country. I want to know which of them are involved.”

  Still hedging. “How did you meet Wade?”

  She licked her lips and pursed them before they dropped open, sultry without even trying. “I can’t tell you.”

  “You said yourself—they’re going to come after me now. I have a right to know.”

  She didn’t reply, but seemed to struggle with how.

  “Who sent those men to your house?” he helped her out by asking, his voice lower and deeper than he intended. He was too aware of her physically.

  Those crystalline green eyes softened. “Why do you think someone sent them?”

  “The dark-haired man was in charge of getting the envelope, but he isn’t at the top.”

  She angled her head, brow going a little lower. “How do you know that?”

  “I’m a good judge of character. Who sent them, Remy?”

  She blinked slowly, in resignation. “Tristan Coulter. He’s an account manager at OneDefense. Their headquarters are in California, but there are several retail stores all over the country. Wade runs the one in Denver.”

  At last, progress. “Did you meet him before or after you met Wade?”

  “Before.” Now her voice had dropped, sultry heat building between them.

  “Is that how you met Wade?”

  Slowly she shook her head, her gaze going to his mouth before rising back to his eyes. “A friend of mine told me Wade was someone I could trust.”

  He moved closer. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Someone who worked at OneDefense.” She sounded breathless.

  “Who?”

  Her mouth pressed closed, signaling he’d reached a point where she’d stop talking. He was okay with that. He had enough to go on for now. Another determination took over.

  Pressing his body to hers, he slid his hand to the back of her neck so that he could satisfy an intensifying curiosity of how her mouth would feel against his. When her hands glided up his arms to his shoulders, he deepened the caress. Full. Warm. She fit him well. They kissed well together. He touched her tongue with his. Only their tongues were in contact for a brief moment, and then he kissed her fully again.

  She made a sound that transported him into an eddy of fevered passion.

  Chapter 3

  The repeated ring of the doorbell followed by an abrupt opening of the front door jolted Lincoln out of the kiss. While Remy’s breath caught, he grabbed his gun and moved to the edge of the kitchen entry.

  A file of people entered his house. Mom. Dad. Autumn. Jonas. Savanna. His mother noticed the gun and barely faltered. Blond hair in a bob and wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, she looked years younger than she was. He flipped the safety on his gun as Arizona brought in the rear, Braden McCrae and his son along with her.

  “Lincoln Ivy, what are you doing with that?” his mother asked, carrying two grocery bags. Tall and lanky behind her, russet-colored hair unruly as usual, Dad held three more. Jackson Ivy taking some downtime from big movie business.

  He chuckled when he saw the gun. “You look like you belong on one of my sets.”

  Great. One of Mother’s impromptu family gatherings was about to descend upon him. Camille Ivy made a job out of Home and Family, and the hour of day didn’t matter.

  “It’s after eight, Mom.”

  “It took us a while to put this all together. Brandie, Macon and Riana couldn’t make it.” She walked past him as though that were a normal explanation.

  His youngest brother and Number Five of the siblings rarely attended family get-togethers. “Macon still in rehab?”

  “Don’t start with that.” His mother stopped short when Remy appeared in the kitchen entry, hands in the front pockets of her jeans. “Who’s this?”

  “My neighbor. Remy Lang.”

  Remy looked uncomfortable as she awkwardly took one of the bags from his mother, and they introduced themselves.

  “Ah, the neighbor,” his dad’s deep voice boomed. He approached Remy with the three bags. “We’ve heard all about you.” He leaned in toward her. “It’s the reason Lincoln’s mother dragged us all here.” He winked back at Lincoln and his mother.

  “Oh.” Flustered, Remy carried the bag into the kitchen, Mom trailing behind, already asking questions.

  It had to have been Arizona who’d started them all talking.

  Refined and slender in a silky tan pantsuit, Autumn brushed long, light red strands of shiny hair behind one ear as she kissed Lincoln’s cheek. “Hi, oldest brother.”

  It had been a while since he’d seen her. “Hi, second oldest.”

  She laughed.

  Savanna stood behind Autumn; Number Six of the Ivy Eight had darker hair, with barely a reddish tint, and was taller. Her eyes were strong and happy today, but Lincoln knew she had her moments when she still struggled with heartache over her last relationship. Autumn hadn’t succumbed to that disease yet. It would take a strong man to make her commit. She had striking beauty like Savanna and an even more striking mind. The Ivys were all attractive in their own way, befitting the offspring of a famous producer.

  Jonas showed up to all the family gatherings because he never exerted himself on anything that didn’t involve workouts or women. Few knew he was capable of more. He just hadn’t found his way yet. It was hard when you were the son of a wealthy man. No one in this family had to work for a living.

  “Is yo
ur divorce final yet?” Lincoln asked, shaking Jonas’s hand.

  “Last month.”

  That was his third.

  “I’m staying away from women for a while.”

  Lincoln didn’t believe that. Except there was something different about his brother today. A fire in his eyes that Lincoln hadn’t seen before. He looked thinner than the last time he’d seen him. “Still working out?” Obsessively. Twice a day.

  “I bought a Trek Madone. Still hunting down bail jumpers?”

  Jonas was riding a bicycle? Trimming down. Lincoln had always thought he’d gotten too muscular, like a bodybuilder.

  “Are you going to race?”

  “No, I just like it.”

  Weight lifting had defined him once. Lincoln had never thought that was all there was to Jonas. He was glad to see his brother finally growing out of that shell. Maybe it had been his last marriage. He’d seemed to love the woman, but it had been obvious to many that all she’d wanted from him was his Ivy name. She must have been disappointed when the entertainment media hadn’t painted her in a favorable light. Just another of Jonas’s whimsical and meaningless marriages. It wouldn’t last. And it hadn’t.

  He hugged Arizona. “Thanks for telling Mom about Remy.”

  She laughed a little and leaned back from the hug. “Can’t keep a secret like that.”

  Like what? All he’d done was notice her. But Arizona had seen that.

  “After I get Aiden settled, I’ll get a game of Clue ready,” Arizona said. “It’s my turn to kick your butt.”

  As Lincoln marveled over her motherly instincts, Braden gave him a man hug, a few quick pats on his back, and Aiden was mesmerized by the television that Arizona had turned to a cartoon network.

  Lincoln headed toward the kitchen, where his parents had taken the groceries and Jonas and Savanna had followed. His father’s laughter joined Autumn’s. Already his mother was well on her way to exploding his kitchen.

  “There’s a casserole in the oven,” he said, half joking.

  “Savanna is taking care of that,” his mother called from the stove, missing his sarcasm.

  Savanna had removed the casserole and had found a container she was now dumping it into without ado.

  “What’s for dinner?” he asked, seeing Remy’s deer-in-headlights stare from the other side of the kitchen island, Autumn at her side. She white knuckled the back of an island stool.

  This wasn’t exactly how he’d thought meeting his family would go. He wouldn’t have thought she’d meet them at all.

  Arizona entered the kitchen carrying the game, Braden behind her. Now the gang was assembled. It grew loud in the room. Braden stopped to talk to Lincoln’s parents. Arizona gave him a shove, propelling him toward the table. He went there, seeing Autumn and Savanna engaging Remy in conversation. She still seemed awkward, disliking the loss of control. If she could, she’d bolt out the front door. Why did being surrounded by his family do that to her?

  Jonas took a seat at the island and listened to his sisters and Remy, pretty soon joining the conversation. Something about positive thinking. Savanna was a motivational speaker.

  Lincoln sat across from Arizona.

  “The neighbor, huh?” Arizona wiggled her eyebrows at him as she put three cards into an envelope. “Remy, wasn’t it?”

  He shouldn’t have told her Remy’s name. “Her dog keeps coming over.” Lincoln looked down at Maddie, who’d put her head on his thigh, the whites of her brown eyes flashing as she gazed up at him, tail wagging.

  “Look at that. She loves you,” Arizona marveled. “Does the neighbor come with her?”

  “She follows shortly thereafter.”

  “I knew you were more interested than you would admit.”

  “I’m not that interested.” He glanced over at Remy to make sure she couldn’t hear them. She answered questions from Savanna and Autumn on her job as a human-resource assistant while Jonas listened. Her vague replies made him wonder if that was why she was so tense. She didn’t like being asked personal questions. What was she hiding?

  “Yeah, right,” Arizona said.

  “She’s got a lot going on in her life,” he argued. Abusive men and bullets. “Too complicated for me.”

  “What do you mean, complicated? All women are complicated.”

  “No, I mean complicated.” He told her about Wade, leaving out their kidnapping.

  “He threatened her?” She handed him some playing cards.

  “And then he was murdered. The police came by to talk to her.”

  She drew a sharp breath. “Murdered?” She glanced over at Remy. “Do you think she did it?”

  “No. Be quiet.” He glanced around the kitchen. Mom and Dad were still busy preparing dinner, and Remy was listening to Jonas tell her about one of his rides.

  “Why did the police question her?” she whispered.

  “She was probably the last one to see him alive.”

  “Why was he murdered?”

  Braden joined them beside the table. “Someone was murdered?”

  Tall and broad, he had short, dark brown hair and green eyes that had sobered. When he sat on the chair beside Lincoln, Maddie went over to investigate.

  Lincoln told him about Tristan. “I haven’t had a chance to check him out yet.”

  “Do you need help?” Braden asked. “I owe you after all.”

  “No need. This time I can avoid involving more people than necessary.” Lincoln looked pointedly at Arizona.

  “If you need help, we can help you,” she said.

  “Me, not you,” Braden told her.

  “Neither one of you. I do this for a living.” No way was Lincoln allowing them to get involved.

  Arizona smiled her awareness of his determination. “Remy is in good hands with you.” She picked up a game piece. “I’m Professor Plum.”

  He took it from her. “You were Plum last time. I’m Plum. You be Mrs. Peacock.”

  Braden sat down next to Arizona. “I’ll play, too.”

  “Did she rope you into these games, too?” Lincoln asked.

  “She makes them fun.” He leaned over and kissed her, making his sister radiate love.

  Lincoln didn’t press them on what kind of fun they had when they played board games. He was pretty sure they rarely finished them.

  Checking on Remy again, he wondered if she was in good hands. Was she safe with him? He wasn’t so sure. Tristan wasn’t your average thug. And depending on what Lincoln learned about him, this could be more dangerous than he’d imagined so far. Too dangerous, even for him.

  * * *

  Remy watched Lincoln playing a game with his sister and her husband. She’d seen the way he looked at her and didn’t have to guess what the three were talking about. His freedom of communication was both admirable and disturbing. She wasn’t sure she wanted his family knowing the police had questioned her in connection to a murder.

  Lincoln’s dad finished making chili for the chili dogs they’d decided to make tonight. Remy wasn’t sure how that was better than Lincoln’s casserole.

  “Do you do this a lot?” she asked Autumn. Savanna and Jonas had moved over to the table to watch the game going on there.

  “Have family parties?” Autumn looked around. Jackson Ivy swung Camille around for a dance in front of the giant pan of steaming chili, humming a tune, both of them smiling at each other. Jonas gave a shout as Lincoln found the murder weapon in the library, and everyone else laughed, except Arizona, who shouted, “I knew I should have made you let me be the professor!”

  “Yeah. Mom loves to keep in touch,” Autumn said.

  And could afford to fly in and out whenever the whim took her.

  “She descends randomly. Last month it was Savanna’s house in P
agosa Springs. Savanna wasn’t happy about it. For a motivational speaker, she sure is morose.”

  Remy looked over at the woman. She seemed to be enjoying this party, but Remy had seen the hint of sadness earlier when they’d talked briefly.

  “Samúð,” Autumn said, the foreign language sounding beautiful on her rich, sultry voice.

  She’d been slipping in words like that ever since she’d gotten here.

  “What is sa-moo?” Remy asked.

  “Icelandic for pity. I wish I could snap her out of it.” Autumn continued to watch her sister.

  “You know languages?”

  “Several. That’s what I do for a living. I’m an independent contractor for now.”

  “Really?” Remy glanced around the crowd of people who didn’t have to do anything to earn a living but did.

  There had been a time when she had worked hard to earn an above-average income. She was nowhere near the wealth surrounding her, but she’d managed to work her way to a comfortable living. That was before she’d met Wade.

  “You all seem so normal, and then...” She looked back at Lincoln’s dad, who’d released his wife to stir the chili.

  “Yeah. It was always important to Mom that we be raised as normally as possible. We were spanked and grounded just like other Americans, trust me. My parents believe that discipline is necessary no matter what walk of life you come from.”

  Remy nodded. “I can see that.” She turned to Autumn. “You have an amazing family.”

  “What about yours? Do you have family here?”

  Family...

  Remy contemplated avoiding that piece of conversation, putting her hands on the back of the kitchen island stool. “My mother died three years ago.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. That must have been hard on your family.”

  “It was just the two of us.” Remy was too aware of the stark contrast between this family gathering and those she’d grown up with.

  “No grandparents?”

  “My grandfather died when my mother was an infant, and my grandmother never remarried. My mother was an only child like me. I never had a chance to meet my grandmother. She died when my mother was eighteen.”