by Lili Valente
Even if that included taking out a hit on his lying, scheming, murder-inclined father-in-law.
“You ready for this?” Harley whispered, circling around the car to stand beside him, her shoes crunching ominously in the gravel.
He forced a smile. “I was born ready.”
He had just helped Jasper out of his booster seat and unclicked Will’s carrier from its base when a woman who had to be Hannah hurried around the side of the house, crying out in excitement.
“You’re here! You’re here,” she said, her green sundress molding to her body as she shuffled across the lawn, emphasizing her incredibly pregnant belly. “You’re finally here!”
A delighted squeal unlike anything Clay had ever heard emerge from his wife’s lips ripped through the air, and then Harley was streaking past him, colliding with her sister in a fierce, but gentle, hug.
“A baby! You’re having a baby!” Harley gasped, drawing back to touch Hannah’s belly reverently before pulling her sister back into her arms and rocking her back and forth. “Oh my God, you stinker! Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise. It’s so rare that I have a chance to get one over on you, I couldn’t resist.” Hannah wiggled her fingers over Harley’s shoulder. “Hi, Clay and Jasper! Welcome to our island! It’s so great to finally meet you in person.”
“You, too.” The dread in Clay’s chest began to seep away in the warmth of Hannah’s sunbeam smile.
When Jackson came around the house a moment later with an easy grin on his face and pulled Clay into a similar hug—minus the squealing—the last of his worry faded away.
“We’re glad to have you.” Jackson pulled back, clapping him on the shoulder before shifting his gaze to the carrier in Clay’s hands. He leaned down, inspecting Will’s tiny face, still peaceful in sleep. “And this must be Will.”
“He’s my baby brother,” Jasper piped up from just behind Clay. “He’s eight weeks old.”
“He’s perfect,” Jackson said, kneeling down to Jasper’s level. “And you both look just like your dad. Do people tell you that all the time?”
Jasper grinned shyly. “Yes. But I’ve got a twisty brain like Mama’s.”
“Really?” Jackson lifted a wry brow. “Well, your Mom is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, so that sounds like a good combination.”
“Devious might be a better word.” Harley appeared on Clay’s other side while Hannah rushed to hug Jasper, assuring him they were going to have a fantastic visit.
“Hello, Jackson,” Harley added in a softer voice. “Thanks for having us.”
Jackson’s smile vanished as he stood, but his expression remained decidedly on the civil side. “Glad you could make it. Anything that makes Hannah this happy is a smart call in my book.”
“You’re a good husband,” Harley said, proving she was also willing to play nice. “And I really do appreciate this. I can’t believe I’m going to get to be here when the baby is born. With Hannah and me living so far apart I never imagined something like that would be possible.”
“You’re welcome.” Jackson nodded before turning back to Clay with a soft clap of his hands. “All right, let’s grab your suitcases. I’ll carry everything in and show you where you’re sleeping. We put Jasper in the guest room by ours and you and the baby in rooms on the other side of the house.”
“Because we’re selfish and want to sleep as much as possible before our little one arrives,” Hannah said, bending down to coo over Will. “Oh, he’s so beautiful, Harley! I can’t wait to hold him. I need to sniff his sweet little head right now.”
Harley laughed, taking the carrier from Clay. “Let’s get a bottle ready first. He’s a kind soul, but he can still get a banshee wail going when he’s hungry.”
Clay lingered near the rental car, watching the sisters and Jasper move toward the house before turning back to Jackson. “Anything new since we talked last night? Did you get the final files from the sheriff’s computer?”
Jackson shook his head slightly. “No, but it’s a matter of days. Maybe hours. Soon we’ll have everything we need to put Stewart Mason in jail for the rest of his life. The senator will exchange his designer menswear for an orange jumpsuit and our families will be safe.”
“You’re sure,” Clay said, trying not to get his hopes up.
He and Jackson had been working to get Harley and Hannah’s father out of the picture since just after Christmas. Stewart was a threat to everything he touched and had been showing far too much interest in Jasper since Clay and Harley had returned to the States. And then, about six months ago, Clay had taken down a hit man moments before the other man’s gun exploded in his face. Jackson had experienced a similar attack outside the U.S. embassy in Samoa, where he was on security detail, just a few hours later. Digging into the shooters’ backgrounds in the wake of the failed assassination attempts had revealed thin, thready, but highly suspicious ties to Mason Industries.
But so far every promising lead had fizzled before Jackson and Clay discovered evidence damning enough to put Stewart away. The man was a clever monster and had done an excellent job of covering his tracks.
It made it tempting to consider taking a more direct route to solving the problem, but that avenue would remain unexplored until there was no other option. If Clay could avoid being the man who murdered his wife’s father, he would prefer it.
He wanted to live the rest of his life as a good man…as soon as he made sure the people who threatened his family were somewhere they couldn’t hurt anyone ever again.
“This is everything we need, wrapped up in a big bloody bow,” Jackson assured him. “That bastard is going to be locked up so tight he’ll never take a breath of free air again.”
“Good.” Clay popped the trunk and collected the larger suitcase. “I like the idea of Will never meeting his maternal grandfather.”
“Same here.” Jackson reached in to grab the two smaller suitcases. “Sorry about keeping the pregnancy a secret. Hannah made me promise. She was afraid you would tell Harley.”
“I probably would have. I tell her everything.” He slammed the trunk, following Jackson as he headed toward the house. “I’ll tell her about this, too. As soon as it’s too late for her to try to talk me out of it.”
“Do you think she would? Harley’s not exactly known for her sense of justice and fair play.”
Clay’s breath rushed out. “She’s changed, Jackson. She really has.”
“I believe you, but she hasn’t changed that much.” Jackson paused on the stone walkway and turned to pin Clay with a hard look. “You can’t tell me a woman who loves her kids that much wants them to grow up in a world with Stewart Mason running around loose in it. Even if he hadn’t tried to take us out, we know and she knows that he hired someone to kill his own brothers.”
“Nobody’s been able to prove that,” Clay cautioned, feeling compelled to be the voice of reason. “Not even the CIA, and we took a long hard look at the case before he was approved for the Senate.”
Jackson’s gaze darkened. “It doesn’t matter if there’s proof. I know it’s true and I’d bet my right hand my father was the one who completed the hits.” His eyes rolled skyward with a sigh. “Though at this point I’ll probably never know for sure. My mother isn’t speaking to me. About that, or anything else.”
“You and Hannah really won the grandparent lottery, didn’t you?” Not for the first time, Clay felt a little guilty for having a mother and father who had always loved and supported him unconditionally, and who had embraced his wife without question simply because she made him so happy. “I could ask my parents if they want to be surrogate grandma and grandpa to baby Hawke.”
Jackson shook his head. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t, but I’m sure they would love to. Mom always wanted a bunch of grandkids. Two is good, but three will be even better.”
Jackson nodded slowly, a smile curving his lips
. “Well, thank you. Hannah would love that. But you’ll have to make sure they’re okay with four grandkids, not three.”
“Four…” Clay clapped Jackson on the shoulder with his free hand. “Oh shit, man. Twins?”
“Twins,” Jackson confirmed, an uncertain expression on his usually dangerous-looking face. “Girls. Identical. The C-section is scheduled in two weeks.”
Clay laughed and kept laughing until he had to put the suitcase down and press a hand to his side.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, asshole,” Jackson grumbled. “But twins run in that family. You keep at it with Harley and the next time you might get more than you bargained for.”
“I already did,” Clay said, still laughing. “Look who I’m married to.”
Jackson snorted and was soon laughing right along with him. Clay tried to regain control—knowing they should get inside—but it felt too good to laugh, to release the tension that had been haunting him since they’d started planning this trip.
Jackson and Hannah were truly happy to have them, the last enemy threatening his family would soon be behind bars, and Jackson Hawke, the alpha male to rule them all, was having twin girls.
The universe definitely had a sense of humor.
Maybe it had a sense of justice, too, at least for those willing to help justice along. And maybe someday soon there would come a day when he wouldn’t go to sleep certain that dark forces from the past were creeping in to destroy the life he’d built and the love he’d found.
As Clay followed Jackson up the steps onto the wrap around porch overlooking the ocean, he dared to imagine a future that was as wide-open and shadow free as the cloudless expanse of blue sweeping out to the horizon.
Chapter Three
The Closer
As the two men stepped inside the Hawke home The Closer sat back in the padded speedboat chair, letting the binoculars in his hand fall to dangle from his wrist.
It was finally time. Everything was ticking along right on schedule.
He’d been waiting a year for Clay and Harley to venture outside the web of safeguards protecting them in their everyday lives. As former CIA, Clay had the best security system money could buy, ties to local and state law enforcement, and a paranoid streak a mile wide, especially since the failed shooting in January.
The man rarely let his wife or children out of his sight, and when he did, he left a tail on them, a hired gun who followed the new Mrs. Hart as she went about her daily business, protecting her from afar. And Clay himself was always carrying, packing heat beneath the mild-mannered blazer he wore to his new job as a covert operations consultant.
The Closer hadn’t dared make a move on Harts’ home turf. He didn’t know who had sent the last man who’d tried to take Hart’s life, but the speed and efficiency with which the former agent had dispatched the shooter had bred a healthy respect for the man’s skills.
The Closer wasn’t afraid of dying, but he was the only one left. The rest of the cartel had been killed, jailed, or scattered to the wind, never to be seen again. If Harley was going to get what was coming to her, what she deserved for betraying Marlowe, the Closer had to stay alive long enough to get the job done.
But now, the Harts were in a foreign country, and had been forced to leave their guns and goons at home. Clay and Harley were booked into the honeymoon suite at the Malolo Resort and Spa, where they would be attending tonight’s Midsummer luau, and the Closer would have the chance to do what he had always done best—close the book on people who betrayed Marlowe.
Tonight was the night. It was all over but the blood and tears.
With a soft sigh that was whipped away by the ocean breeze, the Closer started the boat and set course for the other side of the island and a dock not far from the Malolo resort.
Chapter Four
Harley
Three hours later, Harley stepped out onto the lanai in a stunning white dress that she’d borrowed from Hannah, a chiffon number that pushed up her boobs, swirled magically around her legs, and even more magically concealed the loose skin at her belly. Crossing to the deck railing, she cast an anxious glance onto the patio below.
There Hannah and Jasper were busy setting up for their outdoor movie while having a lively debate on the merits of chocolate covered pretzels versus chocolate covered popcorn.
Inside, Will—who had woken, charmed everyone with his gummy new smile, filled an impressively stinky diaper, taken a full eight ounces of milk, and fallen asleep again—was snoozing happily in his crib. Jackson had the baby monitor in his office, Hannah had promised to pop up and check on the baby every hour or so, they had all said their goodbyes, and Clay had gone to carry their overnight bags to the car.
She should be following him—they had nine o’clock dinner reservations in two hours and it would take them thirty minutes to get to the hotel.
But for some reason, she couldn’t seem to tear herself away from the deck railing or her eyes away from Jasper. He was showing off his ninja moves, a wild display of thrashing and spinning that bore more resemblance to a spastic modern dance than karate, and was making Hannah giggle so hard she had just snorted water out of her nose.
“Everything okay?” Clay asked as he came to stand behind her, pinning her between his strong body and the railing, immediately making her feel safe and a little nervous at the same time.
“This is the first time we’ve left him alone with someone since last summer,” she whispered, not wanting to attract Jasper’s attention. He’d already made it clear he was past ready for Mom and Dad to scram so he could enjoy his movie date with Aunt Hannah. “I was worried he would be scared.”
Clay wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back to his front. “The only thing he’s scared of is you telling him he can’t eat as much junk food as he wants. He’s okay. He doesn’t think about the kidnapping anymore. For him, all the ugliness is over.”
Harley pulled in a deep breath and let it out slow and steady. “It really is. Isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Clay said pressing a kiss to the back of her hair. “For him and for us.”
Almost she added silently, thinking of the text she’d just received from Dom.
Big news. Call me back as soon as possible. We need to meet.
There hadn’t been time to reply, or to tell him the meeting would have to wait until she was back in the States. But if her gut was right, the nightmare her father had put into motion years ago might finally be coming to an end.
And when it did, she would tell Clay the secret she’d been keeping since she woke up from a coma last year to find an email from Dom warning her that her father was on to them and that threats had been made.
Threats that involved an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a child for a child.
If you take what’s mine, I’ll take what’s yours, had been her father’s exact words.
Meaning that if Harley kept working to find and free the half sister she’d never met, then Stewart Mason would find a way to take Jasper away from her.
And Stewart never made idle threats.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, two days later, when she was still throwing off the mind-muddying effects of being unconscious for so long, she’d learned that she was pregnant.
She’d been pregnant when the helicopter crashed. Luckily, she hadn’t lost the baby, but for the first several months of her pregnancy, she’d had to be careful, to keep her stress levels low and her healing on track, all while doing everything it took to make Jasper feel safe and loved. By the time she found the words to tell Clay what was going on, she couldn’t bring herself to say them.
He’d been so happy, so thrilled about the baby, and so excited about the future. She couldn’t ruin it, not when there was nothing he could do to make the situation better.
She couldn’t back down, or tell Dom to stop trying to find Mallory. The girl didn’t deserve to be imprisoned for her entire life for the sin of being Ian Hawke’s daughter instead of Stewart’s.<
br />
That will be a fun conversation.
Filling Jackson and Hannah in on the fact that they have a mutual half sister in common.
“You ready, beautiful?” Clay asked, taking her hand.
“Ready.” She turned to him, capturing his lips for a long, slow kiss. There would be time to sort through all the drama later.
Tonight was the shortest night of the year, the perfect time to banish all the nightmares and start fresh with the sunrise.
Chapter Five
Clay
The honeymoon hut overlooked the resort’s tropical lagoon on one side and a private stretch of sugar white beach showcasing a romantically crumbling abandoned lighthouse on the other. It was far enough from the rest of the resort that the faint sounds of music and laughter from the party already in session were overshadowed by the crash of the waves and the call of hundreds of birds settling in for the night in the palm trees across the lagoon.
Inside the hut, a mosquito-net draped bed large enough to fit an entire village dominated the center of the room, his and her porcelain tubs sat facing the screen door, offering bathers a view of the lighthouse, and wicker chairs with overstuffed cushions completed the aura of comfortable elegance.
But it was the swing in the corner of the room that immediately caught Clay’s eye.
The staff had installed it exactly to his specifications. As he set his and Harley’s overnight bags on the floor near the bed, he made a mental note to give the concierge who’d assisted him an excellent tip. Then he turned to watch Harley, not wanting to miss the expression on her face when she saw the swing.
“This is so beautiful.” She scanned the horizon, where the last of the sunset light was fading to dark blues and purples, before turning back to the room. “I love the bathtubs and the—”
She broke off, her eyes going almost comically large and her flushed cheeks paling. “Oh my God. Is that what I think it is?”
