She smiled at the woman who always had a kind word and friendly smile for everyone she encountered. Hannah, barely five foot, had a mass of reddish-blond curls that reminded Celia of Orphan Annie. Every inch of her round face was covered with freckles. The women exchanged air kisses.
“I told you I wouldn’t miss this.”
Hannah stared boldly behind the lenses of her sunglasses at the man with Celia. To say he was gorgeous was an understatement. There was something about his face that reminded her of Shemar Moore, the actor who played an FBI agent in Criminal Minds.
“This is turning into a spectacle. Daniel invited half his high school graduating class and their families.”
Celia exchanged a knowing glance with Gavin. She hadn’t bought too much. “I told you I was bringing a guest, but didn’t tell you who he is because I wanted it to be a surprise. Gavin, this is our hostess, Hannah Walsh. Hannah, Gavin Faulkner, my husband.”
The expression on Hannah Walsh’s face was priceless when Celia introduced Gavin as her husband. The children’s book illustrator opened and closed her mouth several times. She cradled her belly with both hands. “Omigosh! You’re married!” Her expression changed again. This time it was a grimace.
“Are you all right?” Celia asked.
Hannah nodded. “I’m good. Every once in a while I have a few contractions. It looks as if my daughter…oops! The sex of the baby has been a secret until now.”
“Gavin and I promise to keep your secret. Won’t you, darling?”
“Oh, yes. Of course,” he replied quickly, extending a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hannah. And congratulations on the baby.”
Hannah accepted his handshake. “Are you two planning on starting a family right away?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Celia and Gavin had spoken in unison.
“Which is it?” Hannah questioned, her gaze shifting from her friend to her new husband. “Yes or no?”
Gavin put his arm around Celia’s waist, pulling her closer. “Celia wants to wait, but if it were up to me she’d already be pregnant.”
Reaching out, Hannah took Celia’s free hand. “The girls are going to have a little chat, but not before I introduce you to my husband,” she told Gavin.
Gavin nodded and dropped his arm. “I’m going to need a couple of strong arms to help me unload some liquid refreshment from my truck.”
Hannah glared at Celia. “I told you not to bring anything.”
“Please, Hannah. Do you realize how many people are here?” The rear of the property was quickly becoming more crowded with newcomers. Many of the benches at the picnic tables were filled and some guests were sitting under trees and a few had gone as far as the lake. A loud roar went up when a group of men arrived carrying audio equipment.
“Last year, everyone complained because we didn’t play music, so this year we asked some of the guys Daniel works with who deejay during their off-time to bring their equipment.”
“It’s a good thing your closest neighbor is far enough away so you don’t have to worry about them calling the police,” Celia teased.
Hannah winked at Celia. “That’s the reason why I invited my neighbor, and if she were to call the police then her neighbor’s husband would answer the call.”
“Your husband is a police officer?” Gavin asked.
“He’s a state trooper. Most of his close friends are law enforcement. Some are local and the others are state and federal.”
Gavin followed Hannah into the outdoor kitchen, his mind going into overdrive. When she’d mentioned federal police, he wondered if he would recognize any of them, or if they would in turn recognize him.
Daniel Walsh was taking orders as to the doneness of hamburgers, franks, sausages and steaks. The outdoor kitchen was magnificent with a double grill, burners, oven and smoker. It also contained a sub-zero fridge, sink and icemaker. Styrofoam chests were filled with meat and fresh fish covered with ice. Fifty feet away was a portable bar, and judging by the number of people lined up in front of it, the two bartenders were being kept very busy.
Hannah tapped her husband’s arm to garner his attention. “Darling, I’d like you to meet Celia’s husband.”
Daniel’s green eyes grew wider in a deeply tanned face as he turned to stare at Gavin. His straight coal-black hair was a vivid contrast to the emerald-green orbs. His features clearly identified him as Native American.
“You and Celia married?”
Gavin flashed a half smile. He knew Celia’s friends would be shocked by the announcement because there was no doubt they knew and had probably met Trevor-Jones.
“Yes, we are.”
“Congratulations. I’d shake your hand, but if I take off the mitt, then I’m going to lose my momentum. I can tell you now that some of my buddies are going to be disappointed to hear she’s no longer available. Most of them didn’t like her fiancé and when we got the news that he’d been killed during that hospital shootout they said all the proper words out of respect, but I for one thought he was a puffed-up pain in the ass.”
“I’m going to need some of your buddies so they can help me unload my truck. Celia decided to clean out the beverage store. After that, if you need help I’m willing to help you grill.”
Daniel turned to a tall, skinny teenage boy with a flaxen ponytail. “What’ll you have, Bobby?”
“Steak, medium-well.”
Reaching into a cooler, Daniel took out a rib eye steak and placed it on the grill. He then took off the mitt, handing it and the long-handled fork with a digital thermometer to Gavin. “Show me what you got.”
Smiling, Gavin put on the mitt and picked up another fork without the thermometer. “I don’t need a fork with a read-out to tell me when a steak is medium-well.” He inhaled the smoke coming off the grill. “Nice. There’s nothing better than mesquite-grilled bone-in steak.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Daniel nodded his head. “So, you do know a little sumptin’ about grillin’.”
“Only a little,” Gavin answered modestly.
His secret desire, once he retired, was to open a barbecue joint where he’d serve ribs, brisket, chicken, pulled pork and the requisite side dishes. If Celia had her college roommate and grandmother to thank for her culinary prowess, then he would have to pay homage to his maternal grandmother. Grandma Annie Mae Smith was an unofficial pit master, who’d learned the skill of smoking meat from her father. Whenever her church hosted barbecue fundraisers or a revival, everyone in Charlotte came out for the event.
Whistling sharply through his teeth, Daniel called out to three of his coworkers. “I need you to help with something.”
Gavin relinquished the mitt and fork and shook hands with the men, none of whom he recognized. Although none were in uniform, he could easily identify them as law enforcement.
“You a cop?” asked a short, stocky black trooper Daniel had introduced as Smitty.
“Personal security,” Gavin answered.
“You babysit folks like those crazy-ass Hollywood actors who have too much money, and don’t know what to do with it?”
Gavin’s impassive expression did not change. “No. I usually babysit the families of the invisible people who have enough money to buy private islands or run a small country.”
Smitty’s eyebrows went up a fraction. “The pay must be real good.”
“The pay is commensurate with the risks.”
Daniel slapped his colleague on the back. “Stop interrogating the man and go unload his truck.”
Gavin gave his host a surreptitious wink as he led the way back to where he’d parked the Yukon. There was something Smitty had said that he found irritating. Not only had the man asked too many questions, but the questions were too personal in nature to ask someone he’d just met. Trooper Smith would bear watching closely.
Celia sat in Hannah’s living room, holding her two-year-old son. The toddler had inherited his mother’s curly hair, but the color was raven-black li
ke his father’s. His eyes were a beautiful hazel ringed by the longest lashes she’d ever seen on a boy. His coloring had compromised. It was a dusky peach with a spray of freckles over his pert nose and cheeks. Since picking him up, Daniel, Jr. had played a visual peekaboo with her. Celia felt sorry for the girls who would eventually become the recipient of his gaze.
Hannah sat on a matching club chair, supporting her bare feet on a footstool. She took a deep swallow of water, peering at Celia over the rim of her glass. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to get into your business by asking what’s up?”
Celia and Gavin had lain in bed earlier that morning concocting a story that would be consistent whenever anyone asked about their pretense of a marriage. “What do you want to know?”
“Where did you meet him, and does he have a brother?”
Celia shook her head in amazement. “You’re incredible, Hannah Walsh! You’re about to give birth, and you’re talking about hooking up with another man.”
A flush crept up Hannah’s face to her hairline. “I’m not looking for me,” she said. “I wouldn’t trade my Daniel for all the men in the world—even if they came with a perfect face and body like your husband’s.”
It was Celia’s turn to blush. She’d discovered Gavin didn’t have to do a thing to attract stares from women. All he had to do was walk by or walk into a room. He’d caught her attention immediately when he’d approached her in the supermarket.
“He is rather nice on the eyes,” she agreed.
“He’s more than nice, Celia. I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”
“What is it?”
“We Cooper girls like our meat either medium-well or well-done.”
Celia covered her mouth to hold back screams of laughter. “Now you tell me,” she said between her fingers. She lowered her hand when Danny gave her a puzzled look.
“I suppose you wouldn’t have given Yale a second look.”
Hannah shook her head. “Please. Not even if I was desperate. I’d always thought he was so wrong for you, Celia. He was too old, and if you hadn’t been who you are you would’ve ended up as his doormat. Daniel said he only hooked up with you because you’re smart and beautiful. It’s too bad he had to die the way that he did, but if he had to check out in order for you to find someone like Gavin… I don’t mean to sound glib, but such is life. Now, tell me how you met Mr. January, February, March and the other twelve months of the year.”
Celia didn’t want to believe that Hannah had echoed the sentiments of her family members. They’d called Yale spoiled, controlling and, at times, condescending. It was the attempt to control her that had them at odds with each other. She wasn’t certain whether his need to control came from their age difference or his warped sense of entitlement because he was a third-generation physician.
“Either you’re particularly horny, or you need some,” Celia said, teasingly.
“Both. I’ve been spotting the past two months, so my doctor has Daniel on booty lockdown.”
“Lockdown or lockout?”
“Both. Come on, Celia. Tell me how you met Gavin.”
Taking a breath, Celia told Hannah that she’d met Gavin when he worked a security detail for one of her brother’s Thoroughbreds when Nicholas transported the horse to a Florida racetrack.
“Nicholas came to see me before he drove back to Virginia. Gavin was with him because he was dropping him off in Charlotte. To say I was a hot mess was an understatement. I needed a haircut in the worst way and I was so thin I could’ve passed for a Halloween scarecrow, but when Gavin looked at me, I felt as if I were the only woman in the world. He asked if he could call me and I said yes. Whenever he wasn’t assigned to provide security for a client, he would come and visit. And, as they say, the rest is history.”
Hannah flashed a Cheshire-cat grin. “That’s what I’m talking about! Although you’re thinner than the last time I saw you, you’re still stunning. Does he make you happy, Celia?”
She stared at the little boy who’d fallen asleep in her arms. “He makes me deliriously happy, Hannah.”
Celia hadn’t lied to her friend. She’d smiled and laughed more since meeting Gavin than she had in years. She felt closer to him than she’d ever felt with Yale. And sex had little to do with it.
“If that’s the truth, then why do you want to wait to have a baby? Daniel and I were different because he wanted to finish college and get his career on track so he could support me and our children without having to penny pinch. Neither of us anticipated how much income my illustrations would generate, but even if I never illustrated another book we would still live comfortably. You’re a doctor, Celia. Even if you decided not to go on staff at a hospital, you could always set up a private practice. You can either work out of your home or hire a nanny to take care of the baby when you’re seeing patients.”
“That is a possibility.”
“What is a possibility, Celia?”
Both women turned at the sound of a man’s voice. Gavin had come into the living room without making a sound. “We were talking about your wife having your baby,” Hannah announced.
Gavin moved closer, staring at the little boy in Celia’s arms. It suddenly struck him that he and Celia were playing a very dangerous game. They’d concocted a story supporting their courtship and marriage, but they hadn’t talked about children. Most people wanted to know if or when a newly married couple planned to start a family.
He’d never denied wanting to marry or father children. It was his undercover work that posed the problem, because he didn’t want his wife to go through what his mother had experienced. Gavin didn’t want agents coming to his home to inform his wife that her husband had sacrificed his life in the service of his country.
He had an obligation to his mother, himself and the Bureau to bring his brother back alive, and he’d also promised Nicholas Cole-Thomas he would keep his sister safe. Gavin Tyrone Faulkner, Jr. had pledged to help everyone, but whom could he turn to when he needed love and understanding? Celia was as close as he’d come to a life partner, and even their time together came with an expiration date.
“If you’ve changed your mind, then we can start tonight,” he crooned.
Celia almost choked. “Can we talk about this later, Gavin?”
“Of course, darling. I just came in to ask you if you’re ready to eat.”
“Yes, I am.” As much as she always enjoyed interacting with Hannah, the baby talk was making her very uncomfortable. She watched as Gavin closed the distance between them, scooped the little boy off her lap and cradled him to his chest. A lump rose in her throat when her eyes met Gavin’s.
Her heart stopped, and then started up again in a runaway rhythm. She’d tired of the lies only because she’d never been a good liar. Tell one lie and then she had to tell another to cover the first one. After a while, the lies escalated to where she wouldn’t recognize the truth even if it meant survival.
“I’ll meet you outside.”
Turning on her heels, she walked out of the house and into the warm afternoon sun. Perhaps she’d be able to pull off the farce without the angst she was undergoing if she hadn’t slept with Gavin.
She now found it almost impossible to differentiate between lust, passion, desire, infatuation and what she’d been afraid to acknowledge as another four-letter word…love.
Chapter 15
The aroma of grilled meat lingered in the air long after the sun had set behind the mountains. The DJ had packed up his equipment and the families with young children had left to return to their homes after an afternoon filled with food, music and a carefree frivolity. Strategically positioned floodlights had been turned on at dusk, illuminating the property as if it were nine o’clock in the morning instead of nine at night.
Gavin liked his hosts. He particularly liked Daniel. He was generous, unpretentious and completely without guile. Daniel reminded him of Celia. He was brutally honest. Gavin was also glad he’d come to the cookou
t with Celia, because it’d been a long time since he’d been able to kick back and do absolutely nothing but eat, drink and listen to music while watching others do the same. Little children had run around in wild abandon, teenagers had competed with one another in dance-offs. Their older siblings and parents were content to sit around talking or cooling off with a dip in the lake.
Gavin, who’d shared grilling duty with Daniel, sat on the man’s back porch with him and four of his police-officer buddies. He’d sat sipping Wild Turkey bourbon from an old-fashioned glass and taking puffs from a quality cigar. He was half listening to the conversations going on around him, because he couldn’t get the image of Celia cradling Hannah and Daniel’s son out of his head.
Living with Celia had given him a greater advantage of becoming more familiar within a shorter span of time than if he’d dated her. He’d learned to gauge her moods, which ran the gamut, from defiance to annoyance, joy, tension and anger. What he hadn’t glimpsed—until today—was serenity. The look on her face radiated peace, the emotion that probably had eluded her for almost a year. His gaze lingered on her as she sat with a small group of women sitting under a copse of trees. He smiled when she threw back her head and laughed with the other women.
“What’s your take on the robbery, Faulkner?”
The query shattered his musings and he turned to stare at a middle-aged sergeant with a noticeable paunch, who’d passed on the bourbon to drink beer. “I’m sorry, Jimmy,” Gavin apologized, “my mind was elsewhere.”
“And I have a good idea just where your mind was.” Isaac Smith had insinuated himself into the conversation.
Gavin ignored the gibe. He had no intention of discussing Celia with any of the men. “What were you asking?”
Isaac Smith took a deep drag of his cigar, blowing out a perfect smoke ring. “Jimmy Lee was asking about the gang that kidnapped and shot that gun dealer who’s from around here.”
A shiver shook Gavin, and he uncrossed his legs, stretching them out in front of him to camouflage his reaction to Smitty’s reference to the gun shop owner’s kidnapping, which had been a closely held secret. Who, he wondered, had given the trooper classified information, because the details as to the kidnapping were deliberately excluded from any Bureau, local police and newspaper reports.
Breakaway Page 17
