~1~

Upper Sonoma Valley, California~ The Present

“How does she look to you?”

“Gorgeous as usual. Then again, LuCarolyn Eliades would never allow herself to look anything other than gorgeous,” Etienne ‘Tee’ Nikolaides told the big man next to her. She fixed him with an inquisitive smile when he uttered a sound that could be mistaken for little else than a growl.

Rutger Eliades’ darkly attractive face didn’t portray the image of a man convinced. His bourbon-colored eyes were hooded while studying his wife beyond the wide windows lining the hall near the foyer as she made her way toward the house.

“She’s been pushing herself too hard these last few months,” he shared with one of LuCarolyn’s best friends. “Wants everything in place with the studio before she goes out on leave,” he added.

“You don’t approve?” Tee asked.

Rutger bristled. “It’s not that, I just-” he smothered another gruff sound. “I don’t like her working so hard at it so close to the baby coming.”

Tee understood Rutger’s concern. Afterall, the couple was expecting their first child in just under 3 months. “I’ve known Lu a long time, you know?” she said. “One of her greatest strengths is concern for the welfare of others. That concern’s working triple time now that she’s expecting a baby,” she squeezed the massive bicep above her head and smiled. “She won’t take any unnecessary chances,” she said.

“I know that,” Rutger shook his head in spite of himself. “I know it-so why can’t I shake the edginess?”

Tee’s soft laughter livened the foyer. “I think that’s how it’s supposed to be-expectant father and all.”

“Tell me I’m not gonna fuck this up, Tee.”

She squeezed his arm again. “You’re not gonna fuck this up. But that’ll only stay true if you come with me now to the terrace. She won’t appreciate walking through the front door and finding you here with worry all over your face.”

“Right-right,” Rutger closed his eyes, nodding as though that was something he should have remembered. “Thanks Tee,” he offered his arm and together they left the foyer.

~~~

LuCarolyn had urged her husband to go on ahead of her to Mercuri’s and Tee’s that afternoon instead of waiting for her to wrap up at the studio. 5Creators would always be her baby despite the fact that she’d have a real live one of her own in a very short while.

For the time being, 5Creators was the baby she needed to put to bed. Her partners had done an exemplary job of managing the place during her long absence. Nevertheless, Lu had no plans to fully walk out on the business she adored. Though she wasn’t ‘walking out’, her role at 5Creators was on the brink of substantial change.

Her previous and lengthy absence with Rutger in Canada hadn’t necessarily been a vacation. At the home of her then fiancé, Lu had the time-and solitude-to finally fulfill her goal of becoming a screenwriter. Business with the studio was as much about handing over the reins to new management as it was to embark on the pre-production aspects of her first script.

Things were moving along at a steady and successful pace. Her partners had things well in hand and had promised they would treat her script the same as any other unsolicited creation they received from a newbie writer. Lu, knowing what that meant, said she wasn’t too proud to accept a little special treatment.

The idea had her smiling as she approached the front door. Tee had told her to let herself in when she arrived. Lu appreciated the opportunity to walk in undetected-necessary when one had Rutger Eliades for an overprotective husband and soon to be first-time father. She crept into the house, smiling when silence greeted her. Setting her wide leather tote against the wall, she shut the door soundlessly and then leaned back against it. When she looked out over the foyer again, she smiled at the sight of her host there observing her.

Mercuri Nikolaides returned the smile he received. “Want me to bring dinner to you out here?” he asked.

“Think your friend will let you?” Lu countered.

Mercuri raised his hands in defense. “I’m leaving the convincing to you.”

There was laughter and then quiet concern shadowed Mercuri’s extraordinary amber eyes. “You okay?” he asked.

“If anyone ever tells you being six months pregnant is fun, they’re lying.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mercuri crossed the foyer and offered Lu his arm. “Dinner or nap?” he proposed.

Instead of accepting Mercuri’s arm, Lu placed her hand against the broad limb and used it for support while she stepped from a pair of stylish, yet sensible-mildly sensible-wedge heels. She sighed heavily when they left her feet. “Mommy wants bed, but baby needs food,” she said.

“Nothing wrong with food in bed,” Mercuri observed.

“Agreed!” Lu laughed the word and placed her shoes in the tote. She then slid her hand across the bend of Mercuri’s arm. “But Rutger will worry and since he worries if I stay in the bathroom too long, I don’t want to give him any more reason.”

Mercuri took LuCarolyn’s bag from its perch against the wall and they began to cross the foyer. “Does he have reason to worry?” he asked.

“No. None. Everything’s fine-really,” she stressed when Mercuri only stared. Once more, she sighed. “It’s like I said, being pregnant can’t be a walk in the park everyday- it’s just the way it is. Nothing to be done, but accept it, you know? Rutger’s just so use to bending things to his will.”

“Or just breaking them,” Mercuri noted, joining in when Lu laughed.

“Being helpless isn’t something he does well,” she mused while sobering.

“Yeah...” Mercuri gave Lu’s arm a light tug. “Thanks for being patient with him. He doesn’t know a lot about what to expect-none of us do, really.”

“Well we aren’t the first to have kids,” Lu pointed out.

She was speaking of the company of soldiers Mercuri, Rutger and their best friends-brothers Slayte Miltiades and Pope Apostolou had once belonged to. Genetically enhanced inside their mothers’ wombs, they and others like them, had grown tall and freakishly strong. There were other...attributes as well. All were put to use inside the GAN. Those ‘uses’ were anything but honorable. Mercuri, Pope, Rutger and Slayte labored for the group before Mercuri’s idea for a grand revolt relieved the Network of nearly half its base of soldiers.

“There wasn’t a lot of keeping in touch once we parted ways,” Mercuri was saying. “The ones with kids definitely didn’t want reminders of who they used to be when the GAN owned us.”

“And so much for hearing pregnancy stories or cautionary tales, huh?” Lu guessed.

Mercuri nodded. “It’s gotta feel like jumping off a cliff, except you’re jumping with the woman you love and the child you never expected to be blessed with.”

“So, in other words, cut the big oaf some slack?” Lu guessed, slyly.

Mercuri grinned. “How ‘bout you cut each other some slack?”

“And I’ll leave that part of the convincing to you,” Lu decided flatly.

The two of them laughed while making their way on through the house.

***

Ashland, Virginia~ Christmas, 11 months later...

It was a season of firsts. Most notably, Rutger and LuCarolyn were celebrating their first Christmas with their baby girl. Reina Inez Eliades was born beautiful and healthy on a warm evening in May. She had been consistently dazzling her parents, grandmother, aunts, uncles and everyone who met her.

When the invitation came to spend Christmas in Virginia, it was happily accepted. As Reina had been too young to make the previous trip with her parents, the chance to dazzle a new set of admirers had finally come her way.

Reina’s grandmother Ianthe Eliades and her friends Sofiya Nikolaides, Eris Miltiades and Ariadna Apostolou had all decided to spend some time in Micronesia. The women had lived there since their unwanted, but necessary estrangement from their sons. As they’d already doted on the baby for over half the year, they didn’t make a fuss-too much of a fuss-about the trip. Besides, their sons had arranged to have them all flown back to the States in time to share Christmas and New Years’ in Virginia. It would be the first time in decades that they’d all be together for the holidays.

It was a time of firsts as well for the newlyweds among the group. Princess and Slayte Miltiades had traveled to Prin’s childhood home in Ashland, Virginia for her parents’ Christmas party-another first. Samantha and Jamus Holland hadn’t cared much about holiday soirees at home over the last several years. Now that all dark secrets from the past had been revealed-all ghosts destroyed-a true Christmas celebration felt right.

Slayte and Prin hadn’t arrived in Ashland alone. In addition to Rutger, LuCarolyn and Reina, Mercuri and Tee had also traveled out for the festivities as had the other newlywed couple Berrill and Pope Apostolou.

***

“He givin’ you the silent treatment, beautiful?” Slayte Miltiades asked when he approached the black suede recliner and the man who appeared to be asleep there. The recliner was tucked away in one of the many reading nooks to be found on the first floor of the Holland’s impressive home.

Nestled securely in her father’s lap, her tiny fists curled into his shirt, Reina Eliades babbled robustly. Her honey colored eyes stretched when she saw her uncle and she babbled more excitedly.

“Sorry Sweetness,” Slayte leaned in to scoop the chubby infant into his arms. “You gotta be roaming the wild to keep this one up and at ‘em,” he said.

Rutger, who hadn’t been asleep, smiled in reaction to the dig aimed at his hunting interests. “Unlike you,” he said, “I know when to shut up and let a lady do the talking.”

Slayte’s violet eyes sparkled while he smiled down at his niece. “That the line he’s feeding you?” he brushed a delicate kiss to Reina’s petal soft cheek and settled to the recliner next to the one Rutger occupied. For a time, niece and uncle ‘chatted’.

“What’s it like?” Slayte asked Rutger once Reina had lost interest in their talk and was fixed on the silver tab of the zip front fleece sweater he wore with light blue jeans.

Rutger opened an eye. “What?” he asked.

Slayte didn’t look away from Reina who studied the zip tab in awe. “Having her,” he shifted Rutger a wary look, “fatherhood.”

Rutger grinned, his whiskey toned eyes crinkling with satisfaction. “Terrifying,” he said, “incredible,” he added after a beat. “You know what that’s like?” he queried.

“Well sure,” Slayte gave a mild shrug. “I know what they’re like separately. Together? No idea.”

Rutger nodded his head against the chair. “Well, that’s what having her is like,” his gaze, thick with adoration and devotion settled to his daughter. “The night we brought her home, I stood in her bedroom doorway with LuCarolyn. We watched her like we expected her to tell us what to do,” he chuckled over the memory, “We didn’t have a clue so...terrifying but incredible. You’ll see when Prin has my nephew.”

Slayte chuckled then as well. Rutger joined in. The sound of the mens’ laughter made Reina look up and smile. Slayte put a kiss to the top of the baby’s head full of dark curls. “You’re so sure it’s a boy?” he asked. Prin was nearly four months pregnant.

“Sure!” Rutger declared, eyes closing in contentment and certainty. “Hopefully, he’ll be blessed with his mom’s looks, but it’s her personality that’ll be the real game changer. Kid like that should have the power to raise you into a man I can halfway tolerate.”

The biting tease roused laughter between the two old friends once more. All the while, little Reina Eliades smiled gleefully at the sounds.

***

“Gib.” Pope Apostolou extended a hand and grinned when his palm connected with the other man’s.

“Pope.” Sheriff Gibson Taylor returned the handshake and nodded to the man approaching with Pope. “Mercuri,” he greeted and offered his hand for another hearty shake.

“Gib,” Mercuri clasped the Sheriff’s hand, “your cousin’s around here somewhere,” he referred to Prin.

“I’ll see her in a minute,” with a tense smile, Gib passed a large tanned envelope to Pope, “rather get the aggravation out of the way, first,” he said.

“Police files,” Pope noted, having retrieved a few documents from the envelope sleeve.

“Statements from Zubin’s gang,” Gib explained.

Mercuri and Pope grimaced at the name. Grant Zubin had been a nightmare for them all. Though he’d been dead just over a year, the mess he’d left behind was still being cleaned up.

“This has been a long time comin’, sorry about that,” Gib added. “Doubtful it’ll do you any good now considering the fools who came here with him that night are either dead or tried and convicted. Seeing as the victims were from my neck of the woods, you understand there were many pounds of flesh to be shaved off.”

In a play for vengeance, Grant Zubin had built an army that he marched onto the Holland estate. Many of Jamus Holland’s security crew lost their lives in the attack. Grant Zubin and his army were also part of the Grodins Alberts Network. Zubin had proven himself a canny nemesis and worse, before he was brought down by the joint efforts of several entities- the Sheriff and his men among them.

“No apologies needed here, G,” Pope accepted the envelope and clapped Gib’s arm. “If we’re lucky, Zoo’s asshat squad may’ve shared some names your legal system hasn’t had the pleasure of hearing yet.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” Gib said. “As for me and mine, we’ve got plenty traffic in the asshat department. I’m good with leavin’ y’all to handle the rest.”

Pope slid his azure gaze toward Mercuri. “Is it just me or is the Sheriff giving us vigilante privileges?”

“Sounds like,” Mercuri said.

Gib’s eyes crinkled when he laughed. “I don’t even want to know. Just see that the crazy fucks don’t find their way back to my family, alright?”

Pope clapped Gib’s shoulder. “You’re forgetting-your family is ours now too,” he said.

“And there’s still the matter of an unsolved murder. Prin’s still hurting over Aviva,” Mercuri cited Prin’s former office manager Aviva Joseph. The woman had been murdered before Zubin’s army set its sights on Virginia.

“The whole office is still reeling from it, actually,” Pope went on.

“Yeah,” Gib considered the tragedy while he scanned the happy faces of the guests who filled the main floor of his aunt’s and uncle’s home. “I know she-”

Pope inclined his head over Gib’s unfinished remark. “G? You still with us?”

“Sure, I...” Gib was the one inclining his head then. His vivid almond brown gaze had narrowed in a display of distinct interest. “Sure I am,” he went on, once what captured his eye, moved beyond his field of vision. “She told me the only saving grace was that Ms. Joseph had no family.”

“That’s not true,” Pope scowled over Gib’s misunderstanding. “Your cousin and her team-they were her family.”

Gib looked at the envelope he’d just delivered. “Then, let’s hope something in all that mess brings them some justice.”

~~~

The newlyweds and baby Reina weren’t the only merrymakers in tow for the Christmas holidays. Prin Miltiades had insisted that her new office manager join them.

Nica Sloane had no family and; as she’d yet to visit the Holland Furniture headquarters. Prin decided there was no time like the present.

Nica would rather have had the timing be anything but the present. Unfortunately, the P. Holland Designs team still dwelled under the cloud that had lingered since Aviva’s death. Nica knew Prin wouldn’t be satisfied leaving her alone in California since the rest of their crew would be spending the holidays with their own families.

“There’s really no rush for you to do this, you know?” Prin was saying just then. “Everyone over there now will be gone for winter break by two. Besides,” she graced Nica with a conspiratorial smile and nudged her elbow. “We still have half a pot left of that hot apple cider.”

“Oh no,” Nica backed away wearing a happy yet resigned smile. “Any more of that stuff and I’ll be more ready for a nap than a meeting.” The brew was non alcoholic, but was instantly soothing from the moment it was consumed.

“Try not to think of it as a meeting. Just a get together with some really cool people,” Prin encouraged.

“I’ve worked for you for over three years, Prin,” Nica reminded her boss. “You know there’s a reason why I work behind the scenes. I’m not good with the schmoozing stuff. Not like Veev was.”

Both women bristled then. Nica looked apologetic when Prin put a hand to the baby bump that was slowly, surely rising beneath the hunter green Fisherman’s sweater she wore.

“Sorry Prin,” a shadow claimed Nica’s lovely features as she leaned against the parlor door jamb. They’d been talking there for the past few minutes.

“Don’t,” Prin put her other hand to Nica’s forearm and squeezed. “Talking about Aviva keeps her alive for us. It’ll take longer than a year for us to think about her and not feel crushed inside. Especially you,” she added.

A lot longer, Nica silently agreed and offered Prin a resigned smile. “Anyway, I think I could use the distraction of a meeting-uh, get together,” she corrected when Prin’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Please don’t drink all that cider,” she encouraged her boss, “and thanks for giving me this chance-trusting me to carry the weight here.”

Again, Prin reached out to squeeze Nica’s forearm. “Now if only I could get you to trust yourself, we’d be smooth sailing.”

“I promise to try,” Nica put her hand to Prin’s shoulder as she moved past her. “Rest,” she urged before heading off.

~~~

“So what are our chances of getting an inspector who works between the holidays?”

“You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

Berrill Apostolou rolled her eyes. She wasn’t joking and was pissed her General Manager couldn’t see her expression through the phone-doubly pissed she hadn’t suggested they video conference. Since she already felt like crud for calling the man so close to Christmas, she decided audio was enough.

Mike Hough, General Manager for Bear Arms Gun Ranch, chuckled quietly at his boss. “The building projects are out of this world,” he reminded her, “final inspections are gonna be a breeze-the new constructions will be open by spring.”

I know, I know, Bear closed her eyes to silently convince herself. “Sorry,” she whined.

“Forget it,” Mike rebutted. “I’m used to your slave drivin’ ways. Merry Christmas, alright? Enjoy your family.”

“Merry Christmas, Mike. You do the same,” Bear shut off the speaker and disconnected the call.

“You feel like coming up for lunch?”

Bear was still studying her phone without really seeing it, when her husband’s rich, cavernous voice filled the Holland’s basement level library. “Wouldn’t miss it,” she told him. It had been way too long since she’d enjoyed Samantha Holland’s cooking. She didn’t plan on missing one meal the woman cooked during her visit.

“You’ve still got time,” Pope raised a staying hand when his wife started to stand. “They’re just trying to get a count of who’s interested. I already told them you were in.”

“Thanks,” Bear looked at her phone again, winced. “Sorry.”

“No need,” Pope waved the envelope Gibson Taylor had dropped off. “I got caught up in work too.”

“What’s that?” Bear asked, curling up on the library’s U-shaped sofa and listening when Pope joined her there to explain.

“What’ll you do if anything turns up?” she asked when he’d completed the recap. “Anybody involved with Zubin or Boothe Marshall must’ve run for cover by now,” she reasoned.

Among the many crimes that had him serving an extensive stay in federal prison, Boothe Marshall was also charged with serving as Grant Zubin’s accomplice. He’d supplied the bulk of Zubin’s army.

Pope reclined on the sofa. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the worst the GAN has to offer, it’s that they’re notoriously arrogant. They don’t think they’re caught ‘til the cell doors clang shut.”

Bear winced. “Sounds like the plan is just to wait them out. If you ever find out who they are.”

“About the size of it,” Pope confirmed.

“Isn’t that risky? Letting them just roam without a care?”

“Letting them know we’re on to them and we risk having them burrow into an even deeper hole.”

“You know they could wreak all kinds of havoc until they’re caught?”

“You’re right,” Pope sighed, “but right now it’s the only play I’ve got.”

~~~

This can’t be as hard as it looks. Nica had pretty much psyched herself up for the trip to the Holland Furniture Business Park by the time she’d parted ways with Prin and bundled herself in hat and gloves to face the chill. She hid her boyishly short crop of curls under a knit cap and considered herself ready.

She’d insisted on driving herself, so the Hollands had arranged for her to have at her disposal, one of the industrial carts for the brief journey. Having never driven anything similar to a golf cart before, she was looking forward to it. The Holland vehicles may have been designed with golf carts in mind, but there the similarities ended.

What waited for Nica in the driveway, was the Cadillac of golf carts. From the cushioned interior and; according to Prin, heated seats, Nica was sure her ride to the business park would be a luxurious one. That is, if she managed to get the thing started. State of the art as it was, she’d expected a push to start instead of keys. She found neither.

“It’s a pull cord.”

The words carried on an octave that had Nica whirling in reaction to the voice that sounded like approaching thunder. The man attached to it must’ve sensed her surprise, for he appeared to reconsider the move he was about to make from the top porch step.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

Nica decided the voice was still thunderous, but less disquieting when paired with the easy smile the man gave.

“Guess I shouldn’t have worn my uniform,” he added.

“No, I-” the comment prompted Nica to respond at last, “it’s alright,” she said even as her eyes scanned the light brown fabric of the suit and its distinct markings.

“It tends to set folks on edge, you know?” he said.

The uniform wasn’t totally to blame, Nica thought. How tall was he? She wondered. Though her eyes repeatedly returned to the official attire, that was only so the man wearing it wouldn’t notice her gawking at the rest of him.

Who could blame her? It wasn’t everyday-hell, every year-that she looked up and found 6 ½ feet of gorgeous massively muscular molasses dark male in her sights. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice her blatant devastation. Making his way down the porch steps, he approached her with an outstretched hand.

“Gibson Taylor,” he said.

Nica accepted his hand once she’d hastily tugged off a mitten. “Nica Sloane,” she replied.

“Nica.”

“Very good,” she commended his perfect pronunciation. People had a habit of making her name sound like Nee-ka instead of the correct Ny-ka.

Gib was patiently observing the tempting face he’d only captured a glimpse of inside the house while he spoke to Mercuri and Pope. As if sensing he’d held onto her hand a little too long, he let go and retreated a fraction. “Where you headed?” he asked.

“The business park,” Nica said, then cast a despairing look toward her hoped for ride. “At least, I was,” she added.

“Aw,” Gib made a playfully gruff sound. “There’s nothin’ to it. Uncle Jame keeps these older carts close to the house. They’ve all got the pull cords.”

Nica frowned, lips parted in surprise. “Jamus Holland...is your uncle?”

“Yeah,” a wicked gleam sparked in Gib’s enticing almond brown stare but his voice remained cool. “Blond, blue-eyed white guy about yea high?” he leveled a hand to indicate several inches below his towering height.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Nica felt the impulse to laugh-wasn’t sure she should.

Gib took pity. “My dad is Sama Holland’s big brother,” he explained, watching a smile break through on the woman’s face. He found himself trying hard not to get lost in how the weak sunlight glinted off the dark chocolate flecks that flashed amid the champagne depths of her eyes.

“Not like my uncle to have folks working over Christmas,” he said once he’d managed to stop his incessant staring.

“Oh, I don’t work for him-uh, not exactly,” Nica shrugged slightly beneath her coat. “I flew in from California with Prin. I’m her new office manager.”

Gib didn’t appear content with the news. “So it’s my cousin who's got you working?”

Nica didn’t know why she appreciated the disapproval he portrayed, but she did. Still, the need to come to her boss’ defense overruled, “she did me a kindness I assure you,” she watched the man’s chiseled features exude softness then as his understanding seemed to take hold.

“Sounds like my cousin’s got another workaholic in her life,” he said.

“Another?” Nica’s head tilted quizzically.

Gib looked playfully indignant. “She may have called me that, a time or two.”

“Only a time or two?” Nica ordered herself to ignore her heart flipping in response to the quiet wince he gave. The gesture threw his features into more magnificent focus.

“Sounds better than saying I’ve lost count,” he joined her when she laughed.

“Prin didn’t exactly bring me here because I insisted on working through the holidays,” Nica shared.

“Oh?” Gib’s brow knitted.

She smiled. “I think your cousin’s mom hormones are kicking in. She didn’t want me on my own this Christmas.”

Gib’s disbelief that the woman before him would be ‘on her own’ for the holidays, paired with a strong urge to question the fact. He was moments away from doing precisely that, when he closed his eyes as if to silently berate himself.

“Will you forgive me for being such a clueless idiot?”

She was already shaking her head. “Please don’t apologize. It’s nice being around someone who doesn’t mention it in the first two minutes of the conversation.”

“New office manager,” Gib mused. “Does that mean ‘new’ after Ms. Joseph?”

Nica’s slow nod, confirmed. “Talk about impossible shoes to fill,” she added.

“Well I know my cousin pretty well, Ms. Sloane and she’d never compare you to anyone.”

“I know,” again Nica nodded, “but thanks for saying it anyway.”

“I’ll let you be on your way then,” Gib said once a comfortable silence carried between them for a few moments. With a wave, he drew her closer to the cart.

“Have a seat,” he lifted his chin to indicate the driver’s seat. “Buckle up,” he instructed.

Once Nica had followed those directions, Gib leaned down beside the cart and tugged the safety strap to test its security.

“This lever here will stop the engine automatically,” he patted the device he spoke of. “You just need to press it down before pulling the cord. Give it a try,” he said and watched her put his instructions into action.

The engine, softer than Nica would’ve expected, roared to life. She laughed when Gib cheered her success.

“Just remember to pull on the lever when you want to stop. Stay on this brick path here and it’ll take you right to the park.”

“Thank you,” Nica sighed.

But for the rumble of the motor, the silence had once again settled between them. Nica was first to break the quiet.

“It was nice to meet you, Sheriff.”

“Gib,” he corrected, his tone and expression schooled.

“Nica,” she returned, keeping her manner equally schooled when all she really wanted to know was if she might see him again.