Smolder (Georgia Smoke #6)

• Thirty-Two •

“The family is just that—family.”

Royal

The moment the plane leveled out, Sebastian reached over and unbuckled me, then took my hand to pull me over into his lap. The private jet that had been at the airstrip as soon as the snow stopped was larger and more luxurious than the one we’d taken to get here.

I’d hoped we would be snowed in, even if it meant Sebastian’s brother would be in the cabin too. Something was not right about him. Sure, he had the same sexy, dark good looks as Sebastian, but there was a sinister way about him. He frightened me, but he seemed protective of Sebastian. That I was thankful for.

“You okay?” Sebastian whispered in my ear as he slid his fingers through mine to hold my hand.

I wasn’t, but from what I’d gathered from the other two men, he was in trouble because of me. I didn’t want to add to his stress. I’d been the cause of enough of it for him.

“Yes,” I lied.

The corner of his mouth lifted, but his eyes held a darkness. “For such a talented hustler, Ace, you are a bad liar.”

I rolled my eyes, and he tightened his hold on me.

“You’re going to be fine. Nothing will happen to you. Except Maeme might feed you too much, but other than that, you’re good.”

They sure seemed to have a lot of faith in the safety of his grandmother’s house. I didn’t understand that. Why did they think she’d agree to keep me and not let his dad in? Was she not their dad’s mother? Was she their mother’s mom? It didn’t matter. I wasn’t worried about my safety.

“What about you?” I asked as my chest clenched tightly.

They hadn’t said much, but I’d picked up that wherever it was Sebastian had to go, it wasn’t good.

“Are y’all gonna sit over there and whisper the entire fucking flight?” Thatcher drawled from across the cabin of the plane.

Sebastian’s stare hardened as he glared at his brother. “Does it bother you?”

Thatcher picked up a glass of what I assumed was whiskey. “It’s verging on nauseating.”

“Leave them alone,” Wilder told him. “Don’t act like you’re not worse with Capri.”

That was the second time I’d heard Capri mentioned. Was there a female who was actually close to that man? It would be like befriending the Devil. What would a woman who could do that be like?

“I gave you as long as I could. He should thank me for the five days that he got,” Thatcher said.

“You gave me five days? What? You think you could have found me sooner?” Sebastian asked with a touch of amusement in his tone, as if that wasn’t a possibility.

The corner of Thatcher’s lips tugged up just barely as he drank from his glass. “You can’t hide from me. Never could.”

Sebastian’s brows drew together in a frown. “I used no connections to the family. I paid in cash. I covered every fucking base I could to make sure it wasn’t easy to find us. I’m still trying to wrap my head around how the hell Wilder figured out my burner phone number. I even bought that in cash myself. It wasn’t one of ours.”

Thatcher shrugged, looking smug.

“He put a fucking AirTag in the sole of one of your boots,” Wilder said. “Didn’t tell me about it until this morning. After you bought the burner phone and left, he went inside the place, held a knife to the man’s throat, and got the info he needed to trace it.”

Sebastian straightened as he narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You what?!”

Thatcher flicked his eyes in my direction, and I sank in closer to Sebastian. The man disturbed me.

“I saw a familiar glint in your eyes when you … walked out of that room, little brother. One that I knew too well. I expected something like this. To protect you from rash decisions, I had to do something.”

Even though Thatcher seemed detached and, well, frightening, he did care about Sebastian. At least, it sounded as if he did. There were moments though when I’d seen a bone-chilling look in his eyes that made it hard to believe he cared about anything.

“How did you know which shoes I’d wear?” Sebastian shot back at him, sounding annoyed. “Did you see that in my fucking glint too?”

A faint chuckle came from the man as he continued to sip from his glass.

“I’d check the soles of all your shoes,” Wilder replied with a shrug.

Thatcher glanced back at the other man. “And here I thought we were friends.”

Wilder cut his eyes at Sebastian and gave him an amused smirk as he shook his head at the comment, as if Thatcher had no friends and they all knew it.

Sebastian held my face in his hands as he gazed down at me with a look that made my knees weak and my heart race. Knowing he was about to walk away and leave me here to go face some man in Florida that Thatcher felt he needed protection from terrified me. I held on to his forearms as I tried to tell him without words all the things I wanted to say and couldn’t.

That I loved him. I wanted him to stay with me. Not leave.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he assured me. “Maeme will keep you occupied, and no one can get to you here. I swear it. Trust me, Ace. I can’t stand seeing the fear in those pretty eyes.”

He thought I was scared for me. I wasn’t worried about my safety. Not anymore. It was him I wanted to wrap up and hide away. He’d obviously made a grave error when he took me and ran.

“You promise you will come back? The way they were talking on the plane …” I stopped, unable to verbalize it. My throat constricted as my eyes burned.

The thought that something could happen to him … I couldn’t bear that.

He bent his head and pressed a kiss to the corner of my lips. “I swear,” he said softly, then went to the other side and did the same. “I’ll be fine. Besides, Thatcher is going to be with me.”

I wouldn’t lie; that did give me a touch of comfort. I might never want to be in the same room as his brother again in this lifetime, but he had one redeeming quality—he loved his brother. It was the only slightly human thing I’d seen in his eyes.

“Wilder said something about a man named Presley and seemed concerned,” I said, needing reassurance that whoever that was wouldn’t hurt Sebastian.

He nodded. “Yeah, well, Gage Presley isn’t someone people want to cross. He’s an unhinged son of a bitch. But Thatch is a psychopath. It’s an even playing field with the two, I’d wager.”

That was the only thing easing my mind.

I’d wanted to go, too, but Sebastian had said I wasn’t allowed. Everything had changed for me in the past five days, but it’d felt like more time had passed. Being alone in the cabin had given us time to get to know each other. Everything I’d learned about Sebastian only made me fall more in love with him. I had found even the bad things weren’t really so bad, or perhaps my feelings for him just outweighed the rest.

Thatcher walked out of the door behind us and tilted his head toward the driveway, but said nothing as he passed.

He’d bolted from the vehicle the moment we arrived, and I’d not seen him since. I’d assumed he had to go to the bathroom, but he’d been gone too long for that.

“We have to go, Sebastian,” a deep voice called from the black Escalade.

It was the man who had picked us up at the airport. His name was King, and he was the main reason my concern had gone to full-blown fear. He was worried. The hard lines and grim expression he’d held the entire ride here made me realize this was a bigger deal than they’d let on.

Sebastian’s nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched. “I’ve got to go,” he told me, then pulled me in close for a kiss.

I slid my hands up his chest and clung to the warmth of his body. He groaned as he slowly pulled back, giving me one last look before letting me go and turning to walk away. I stood there, watching him leave down the driveway. The tall, attractive man who stood at the open driver’s side shifted his gaze from me to Sebastian before getting inside. King was older than him. He seemed to be closer to Thatcher’s and Wilder’s age. They were all there in the vehicle with him.

A hand touched my upper arm and squeezed gently. “Come on in. I’ve got some cupcakes made, and we are gonna open us a bottle of wine,” Maeme told me.

I managed a nod but waited until Sebastian glanced back at me before getting inside the back of the SUV with Wilder. Turning, I let Maeme lead me into the house.

It was a lovely home. The type you’d see on a Southern Living magazine cover. It fit her. This was exactly the kind of place I’d have expected the classy older woman to live in. My Grams would love it—at least, she would have before. Now, well, it would just depend on the day.

When I stepped inside the house, the inviting scent of vanilla met my nose. It smelled of baking and comfort. A petite blonde woman walked into the foyer, wearing a pink gingham apron. She gave me a soft smile, seeming to understand what I was feeling, although I’d never met her before.

“I thought perhaps brownies would be good too,” she said, glancing at Maeme. “They should be done in twenty minutes.”

“Brownies are always good,” she agreed. “Royal, this is Capri,” she informed me. “Capri, this is Royal.”

The name caused me to gasp slightly, and I studied her more closely now. She reminded me of a magical pixie or perhaps a Disney princess. This could not be the same woman who was connected to Thatcher. I’d expected tattoos and piercings. Perhaps the same darkness in her eyes. Not … her.

She stepped forward, looking uncertain but holding a sweet smile. My reaction to her was probably coming off as rude, I realized. Trying to gather myself from the surprise, I returned her smile.

“I’m sorry. I …” How did I say this? You’re not what I expected ? Thatcher is unbalanced, and you look … breakable ? “You aren’t what I was expecting,” I said apologetically.

A soft tinkling laugh followed my explanation as her eyes danced with amusement. “Because of Thatcher,” she replied.

I nodded. No use in lying about it.

Maeme patted my back. “It befuddled us all. But she’s his own bright light in all that darkness he carries. Now, come on then. Let’s go eat our weight in sugary goodness and drink until our nerves are eased. Shall we?”

The older woman headed toward the doorway where Capri had appeared.

“It’ll be okay,” she said.

I looked at the other woman, still reeling from the fact that someone who seemed so doll like and sweet could be in a relationship with Thatcher Shephard.

“Thatcher won’t let anything happen to Sebastian,” she told me. “If anything, it’s me who needs to be worried. He can be … unpredictable?” She said the last word as if it was a question, not a statement.

“So, you’re dating Thatcher?” I asked.

She pressed her lips together, and then a small giggle escaped. “Yes. But I guess it’s more than that. We live together.”

Wow. She lived with that man.

“He is intense,” I said, lacking a better word.

“That’s one way to put it,” she agreed, grinning at me. “Come on. Maeme will be rounding to come wrangle us again if we don’t get in there.”

I nodded, then followed her down a wide hallway with pictures of a boy, growing into a young man, covering the walls. He looked very much like King. How odd. Why did she only have photos of King? Was he related to Sebastian too?

“Are these pictures of King?” I asked.

Capri glanced back at me over her shoulder. “Yes. King is her grandson.”

Confused, I frowned, trying to work that out in my head.

“You thought she was Sebastian’s grandmother,” Capri said. “Yeah, that is confusing at first. But Maeme is a Salazar. King’s father is her only son. But she’s the matriarch around here. You’ll learn that there might not be a blood relation between the Shephards, Jones, Salazars, and Kingstons, but the connection they have is much stronger. It’s a deep bond that goes back decades. The family is just that—family. Much thicker than any blood I’ve ever seen.”