Barefoot Bound: A Barefoot Bay Undercover Prequel Page 8

  Nino silenced them all with one hand and ambled to his empty chair and place setting. He poured a healthy splash of wine into a juice glass and lifted it to everyone. “Here’s to grudges. The national pastime of Italy.”

  “And I was born in that country, so I’m entitled to hold one against Lucy Sharpe,” Vivi said. “Gabe, why would you go to her looking for work? It’s like a complete betrayal.”

  Next to him, Chessie stiffened and took a deep drink of red wine.

  “Actually, she came to me,” Gabe said. “One of her employees is married to a Russian millionaire, Grigoire Nyekovic.”

  “In the mob?” Dad asked.

  Gabe shook his head. “Not him. But he has a friend who is being targeted by a Russian gang, a young man who’s supposed to join as a fulfillment of his parents’ agreement. He doesn’t want to do it.”

  “Can’t you just say, ‘No, I don’t want to be in the mob?’” Chessie asked.

  “Not if you want to live,” Gabe said, putting his fork down. “They want this guy. He’s an MMA teacher.” When Mom frowned at the acronym, he explained, “Mixed martial arts. A fighter. A bruiser. Perfect enforcer, except, imagine this—he wants to teach self-defense, not kill people.”

  “So what exactly are you going to do for him?” Vivi asked.

  “Just hide him with some bogus undercover ID while I pull strings and get him set up with a new life. I have no clue how long that will take yet, or what he’s going to do while he’s there, but his sponsor is paying good money.”

  “What about the client I’m going to send you?” Vivi asked. “Kate Kingston’s had another death threat.”

  “Is that Phillip Kingston’s daughter?” Dad asked. “He’s a good judge.”

  JP scowled. “Not according to the police. He loves to dismiss for lack of evidence.”

  Dad turned his mouth down at the corners, not willing to badmouth a former judicial colleague. “His daughter’s in trouble?” he asked Vivi.

  “He’s getting threats about her, and wanted to hire a bodyguard,” Vivi said. “But she balked at that and refuses personal protection.”

  “She’s five years out of Yale Law School and trying to pass the bar after a lousy marriage,” Chessie said. “I can’t blame her for not wanting muscle breathing down her neck while she’s at the law library.”

  Vivi looked skyward. “She wouldn’t be so particular if she read one of the threats, which her father refuses to allow. But Chessie’s right, she did have a craptastic marriage and an even worse divorce. She’s a man-hater of the first degree, and we haven’t been able to free up a rock-solid female bodyguard.”

  Nino set his wineglass forcefully on the table, a few drops splashing out. The move was enough to silence all of them and put him center stage. “Here’s what you do.” He leaned forward, his gaze shifting between Gabe and Vivi. “Put the two of them together and solve both problems.”

  “What are you talking about?” Gabe asked.

  “The two clients you two are yammering about. The high-strung young lady with the bad judge father and the karate kid who needs to hide from the Russian mob. He can be sure she’s safe, and she can be his cover as his bride on their honeymoon in this fancy-schmancy resort where Gabe is going to work.” He brushed his hands, smug and final. “Now, I don’t suppose I could have some of this delicious pasta my sweet daughter-in-law prepared while I was…under the weather.”

  Gabe stared at him. Vivi gave a soft snort. And Chessie clapped her hands together.

  “A pretend marriage!” Chessie exclaimed. “Nino, you are a genius!”

  Vivi angled her head, considering it. “If only I didn’t have to help anyone connected to the Bullet Catchers.”

  Nino glared at her. “Do a good job, and that woman will send you more business.”

  “He’s right,” Zach agreed. “Keep your friends close and your competition closer.”

  “She made an offer to buy the Angelinos once,” Vivi said. “I was insulted.”

  “Not by the offer,” Gabe reminded her. “Just the possibility that you two would have to breathe the same air. But, Nino, you old devil…” He pointed at his grandfather, full of affection. “Except, I’m not sure this legal control freak is going to get along with a gritty MMA fighter and former Marine.”

  “But he can offer protection,” Vivi said. “And that’s what her dad wants.”

  “And she can be the perfect cover for him,” Gabe agreed. “Which is what I need. And you know what else I need?” He grinned at Nino. “You. There. With me.”

  “Good. Let’s leave tonight. I just have to pack my chef’s knives and I’m ready to rock. Or roll. Or rake.” He gave a toothy grin to Gabe. “You got me with the farm, you know.”

  The room erupted with gasps and hoots and questions and arguments that went on for a good five minutes without anyone actually answering a question. In other words, a typical Sunday Rossi and Angelino dinner.

  “You just told me no outside,” Gabe said when they quieted down.

  “Ehh.” Nino lifted a shoulder and gave his Italian wave. “I think fast.” Then, he put down his fork, growing serious. “I’m kidding, of course.”

  “You’re not going?” Gabe asked.

  “I meant I’m kidding about thinking fast. To be honest, I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I know it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Nino, you’d really leave here?” Mom asked, that same little note of panic in her voice. Maybe it wasn’t just Gabe—she didn’t want anyone to leave her nest.

  “Francesca, I love you like a daughter,” Nino said to Mom, then he looked around. “I love all of you more than I can ever put into words. And, James.” When he looked at his son, Nino’s voice cracked just enough to break every heart in the room. “You have been a joy since the day you were born. But you all know what happened to me. It was like an alarm-clock call.”

  They all smiled and no one corrected him while he took a sip of his wine and gathered his thoughts. “When my Monica died, I thought my life was over. But, little did I know, a new one had just begun. I came into this house and watched you”—he nodded to JP—“grow into a man with too many opinions and a powerful protective streak. And you”—he shifted his gaze to Marc—“a capable father with a strong family and business sense.” He turned to Nicki. “You’re a beautiful woman and a good shrink, and Chessie, child, you are dear, and I hope you and Nicki find husbands worthy of you.”

  Nicki gave a wry smile, but Chessie whispered, “Me, too,” cracking everyone up.

  “And when the twins arrived…” Through his tears, he smiled at Zach and Vivi. “They brought the old country and new life. And I do appreciate how you’ve tried to make me part of your business, but…” He drew in a slow breath and finally looked at Gabe. “But my job here is done, and I think it’s time for me to start all over again, and I’m throwing in the rag with the bad boy.”

  “Towel.” Gabe shook his head. “Dude, you are going to kill it down there.”

  “Just don’t kill him,” Vivi murmured.

  Nino lifted his glass. “To my family. Salute.”

  A spontaneous burst of noise and toasting and laughter and tears broke out. “I’ll be back in the summers,” Nino promised. “And for La Vigilia on Christmas Eve.”

  Mom looked like she might cry, but in a good way. “You better, because I will never be able to make all seven fishes.”

  As the conversation and questions—and, of course, disagreements—rose to a din, Gabe leaned over to Chessie. “I’m gonna miss the hell out of this.”

  “I’m going to miss you and Nino,” she replied.

  “Then all you have to do is—”

  Vivi’s hand slapped over his mouth. “Don’t you dare take her, too.”

  Under her hand, Gabe grinned and gave a playful bite, standing up to give his cousin a hug. “I won’t.” Not yet, anyway.

  Not two hours later, Nino was belting out “My Way” louder than the GTO’s four hundre
d horses as they pulled onto the highway.

  Regrets, I’ve had a few…

  “No regrets, Gramps?” Gabe asked.

  “None at all. She was just another woman.”

  Gabe doubted that was true, but nodded like any guy would. “So what changed your mind?”

  Nino didn’t answer for a long time, shifting his body against the hard white leather of the GTO seat, his giant hand curled around the shoulder strap as if he had to know it was there at all times. “You need me,” he finally said.

  “And not just to cook,” Gabe added. “You got wisdom, old man. You got life. You know shit I can’t even think about, and I trust you.”

  Nino inhaled a noisy suck of air. “I’ll help you, but I do want to work on that farm. I was born on a farm, just outside of Naples.”

  “I know.”

  “And I decided I want to die on one. The cycle of life.”

  “Circle.” Gabe gave him a playful punch. “And if that’s what you want, then we better be down there a hell of a long time.”

  “What about you, Gabriel? You regret leaving home again?”

  Gabe glanced at the lights of Boston in the rearview mirror. He loved this city and the family that lived there, but he had some unfinished business that couldn’t wait any longer. “On to the next adventure, I say.”

  “That’s not the only reason you’re leaving.” Nino leaned back and locked his hands behind his head, finally relaxing.

  Gabe swallowed. Did Nino know more than he let on, or was he just that smart? “It’s one of them,” he said.

  Nino chuckled softly. “When will you tell me the rest?”

  “Eventually,” Gabe promised. “You’ll be on a need-to-know basis, Gramps. When you need to know, I’ll tell you. Until then, I might go dark on you at times. Just work with me, okay?”

  “I will,” Nino assured him. “But you have to tell me one thing. Just one little thing.”

  Gabe shot him a look. “If you need to know.”

  “What’s her name?”

  Oh, it was tempting. How nice it would be to unload his tale on Nino here in the dark car. He almost said that name. Almost. But putting it out there would give him too much hope. He didn’t want that, not yet. There was still work to do before he could entertain anything like hope.

  “Don’t need to know that, old man.”

  Nino harrumphed and crossed his arms. “I knew it was a woman.”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  “Including the name of this place we’re going? Bay something? Island? Keys?”

  “Okay, one more time. Mimosa Key is the island. Barefoot Bay is the neighborhood. And Casa Blanca is the resort and spa where we’ll be living. Can you think of a way to remember all that?”

  “Mimosa Key, Barefoot Bay, and Casa Blanca?” Nino thought for a minute, then snapped his fingers. “I got it. Champagne, naked women, and romance.”

  Gabe hooted. “Now we’re talkin’.” He held up his knuckles while Ol’ Blue Eyes crooned for them.

  “We are doing it our way, Gabriel.”

  “We sure are, Gramps. We sure are.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Don’t Miss Book One of Barefoot Bay Undercover

  Want to know the day the next book is released? Sign up HERE. In the meantime, here’s a sneak peek at the first romantic adventure in the Barefoot Bay Undercover Series:

  After receiving anonymous threats, Kate Kingston hopes to appease her father by taking a month-long vacation in a resort, hoping for silence, security, and solitude while she studies for the bar exam. But he last thing she expects or wants when she arrives in Barefoot Bay is a brooding, bruising, muscle-bound Russian bodyguard breathing down her neck. Especially since everything about him sparks sensations that have her thinking about his body far more than her books.

  Alec Petrov is running for his life and protecting a young attorney-to-be while pretending to be her husband is not a bad way to live off the grid. But something about the beautiful law student brings out a side of Alec that he never knew he had and doesn’t know how to handle. While he teaches Kate how to protect herself, she teaches him how to take down walls to discover that even a man trained to kill can have a tender side.

  When their make-believe honeymoon in paradise turns sensual, complicated, and dangerous, Alec and Kate realize it’s not just their lives that are in jeopardy, it’s their hearts. And they’ll have to fight to the end to save each other…and their love.

  ~ Excerpt ~

  Kate Kingston leaned back into the leather sedan seat and exhaled with the exhaustion of travel, pulling the elastic from her ponytail and shaking out her hair as an act of pure relief. As she rubbed her head and gave into a satisfied smile, her driver, Mr. Rossi, a little old man with the slight accent she guessed to be Italian, occasionally glanced into his rear view mirror make sure she had everything she needed.

  Or to evaluate her. Despite his efficiency and kindness, she couldn’t help but feel the man was examining her.

  She shrugged it off, determined to wallow in what she craved: silence, sunshine, salt air, and solitude. And, staying with her mental alliteration, a chance to study. Don’t forget safety and security, a voice in her head whispered. A voice that sounded an awful lot like Dad. Okay, if it made him happy to think she’d be safer outside of Boston, so be it.

  For the first time since she signed her name—her maiden name—on divorce papers five months ago, Kate actually let go of her personal mantra: No man, no husband, nobody takes care of Kate Kingston except Kate Kingston.

  She unclenched her hands as if she could physically remind herself that while independence should be clung to with both hands, she could relax now. A journey along a mile-long causeway over the Gulf of Mexico on her way to a place with the precious name of Barefoot Bay wasn’t exactly an infringement on her independence.

  Yes, she’d compromised her principles and mantra when she let her father make these arrangements, but, as he noted over and over again, it was his fault that some weirdo kept leaving him untraceable messages and notes that threatened Kate. In thirty years on the bench, Judge Kingston had never had anything like this happen, and he’d certainly dismissed plenty of cases due to lack of evidence, which seemed to be what launched the threat campaign.

  That was enough to get her to agree to take a vacation, and use the time to study for the Massachusetts Bar Exam. She’d stay under the watchful eye of Mr. Rossi, who Dad claimed was some kind of legendary former spy and security specialist.

  She fought a smile, doubting the little old man could fend off any attackers in his ill-fitting jacket and crooked red bow tie. If he’d been a spy, it was probably during World War II. But she didn’t think there would be any attackers a thousand miles from Boston, so she didn’t question the age or capabilities of the nice man who’d met her at the Naples, Florida airport.

  He certainly took his job seriously, expertly guiding her through baggage claim, rolling her luggage to a neatly appointed black sedan with the words “Casa Blanca Resort & Spa” printed in tiny letters on the driver’s door. He kept conversation to a minimum, which Kate appreciated. She didn’t come here to talk or make friends or even to hide from some nutjob in Boston. She just wanted to study for the test she should have taken almost six years ago. She was finally going in the direction she should have gone before Steven Douglas Jessup III derailed everything by convincing her to marry him and give up her dream to practice law.

  She let her gaze skim the deep blue waters of the Gulf below them. Her mistakes were history and the future was bright with possibilities. She would never, ever again let a man make decisions for her, run her life, control her actions, or trample all over her independence. And she sure as hell would never be anyone’s wife.

  Live and learn, Katie. Live and learn.

  She watched a formation of sea gulls take flight over the sun-sparkled water, a few pleasure craft leaving long white wakes in the cobalt waves. All beautiful, peaceful, and calm. By the ti
me they arrived at the resort, she was practically humming with happiness over this lovely turn of events, secretly thanking the anonymous note-leaver, especially since he seemed to pose no threat to her father.

  It had all worked in her favor.

  Mr. Rossi parked in a far corner of a large lot, a good distance from Casa Blanca’s main hotel building. With effortless competence that belied his age, he unloaded Kate’s bags and ushered her onto a waiting golf cart.

  “One more little leg of this trip and you’ll be all tucked into your villa,” he said with a kind, but yellowed, smile.

  “I just need to check in,” she said, fluffing the collar of a cashmere sweater that was already way too hot.

  “No checking in,” he said. “I’ll take you directly to your villa.”

  She glanced back at the creamy archways of the main hotel building, a little wistful she wouldn’t get to see the resort’s Moroccan-inspired vibe. “But I think I should go to the lobby and give my credit card.” Dad wasn’t paying for everything on this trip.

  “Are you kidding?” The older man’s eyes grew wide as if she’d suggested running naked down the beach. “You’ll get into that villa without talking to a soul, young lady, or being seen by anyone.”

  Katie opened her mouth to reply and got a single finger of warning. “It’s for your safety, Mrs. Carlson.”

  “Kingston,” she corrected, already thinking of how she’d go see the spa later, after she ditched this guy. “It’s Ms. Kingston.”

  He shot her a look, shaking his head. “It’s Carlson. Mrs. Carlson.”

  She tamped down the argument that welled up. One of her best friends had recently warned that her bitter divorce had left her sounding like a man-hater, and she didn’t want to. You don’t have to pick a fight with every guy who crosses your path, Laurie had told her.

  Kate glanced next to her, knowing her friend was right. She didn’t have to hate them all just because Steven was a Dick With a Capital D, especially this dear little man who was probably a retired cop desperately searching for a purpose in his life.