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“ N ot me,” Agent Parks said, rising from her seat. Juliana thought she did a good job of not bolting, something she’d clearly wanted to do the second Philly walked in the door. “I’m going to head back to Sacramento to look into a few things,” she added as she collected her belongings.

“We can email you what we have,” Simon offered.

She pulled a card from her bag and handed it to him. “Thank you, I’d appreciate that. We’ll be in touch,” she said, directing the comment to her and Simon.

“Aww, you’re not going to call me, too?” Philly said.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out the two had emotional baggage, although Juliana was clueless as to what it could be. Not a surprise since she’d only known the man a few days, but judging by the way Simon, Monk, and Viper watched Philly, she’d wager they didn’t know either. And that was interesting.

Not acknowledging the taunt, Agent Parks graced Philly with a dismissive nod. “Gabriel,” she said. Juliana hadn’t even known that was his given name. “I’m sorry about Matthew,” she added. And with that, she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the room, thanking Dottie for the offer of lunch as she passed.

“Who are you?” Professor Griswold asked Dottie. Despite the tension between Parks and Philly, Juliana hadn’t missed the way the older man studied the Falcons’ matriarch.

When a beat passed and none of the men rose to do the introductions, Juliana sighed. “Dottie, this is Professor Archibald Griswold,” she said, rising and walking to the woman’s side. “He worked with the guys while they were in the military. Professor Griswold, this is Dottie, she’s…”

“The house mom,” Dottie said when Juliana paused to figure out the best way to describe her.

“To them?” Griswold asked, sweeping his finger around the room and encompassing the three men.

“To all fifteen of them,” Dottie replied.

Griswold frowned. “I’m sorry,” he said with no hint of sarcasm.

Dottie narrowed her eyes. “These men are the best men I know. I will not allow anyone to come here and criticize them.” She paused, then looked at Juliana. “Except you and Charley, of course. When that one starts to annoy the shit out of you”—she nodded to Simon—“you are always welcome to come bitch to me.”

“Hey,” Simon protested.

Juliana smiled. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

Dottie snorted. “It will happen. You will still love him, but he will, at times, annoy the crap out of you.”

A jolt of panic shot through her like a live wire at Dottie’s use of the word love . Her mind went blank with shock before logic filtered back in. She had nothing to worry about; Dottie had used the word, not her, not Simon.

She managed to roll her eyes as if she hadn’t just had a mini-heart attack. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “Are you staying for lunch, Professor?” she asked, turning to the man.

He grunted, his go-to form of communication apparently, then mumbled. “I don’t eat meat, but I could do with some watermelon and pasta salad.”

A chorus of disbelieving comments followed that pronouncement, but Juliana slipped her arm around Dottie and led her out, Sherman trotting along behind them. “What can I do to help?” she asked as Viper’s laugh echoed down the hall.

“Does he really not eat meat?” Dottie asked.

Juliana bit back a smile. Interesting that that’s what the woman focused on. “I only met him a couple of hours ago, but he doesn’t strike me as the joking kind. You don’t have to do anything extra for him, though. You heard him say he’d be fine with watermelon and pasta salad.”

Dottie harrumphed, then peeled away as they entered the kitchen. Juliana suspected she’d head straight to the fridge to see what alternatives she could provide. She may not have liked his opinion of the Falcons, but she wasn’t about to let someone go hungry on her watch.

“I’m going to take Sherman outside and see if Mantis needs anything,” she called out. Dottie waved her off, already opening the walk-in fridge.

She wasn’t sure what to expect when she walked out the door—almost the entire club had been at dinner, but now it was the middle of a workday.

Sherman darted toward the edge of the woods, stopping sporadically to sniff the grass between here and there. Scipio was on the phone not far from where he headed. To her right, Juan and Lovell played a game of horseshoes. Mantis stood at the grill, tongs in one hand and his other arm draped over Charley’s shoulder.

Both smiled when they spotted her.

“Hey, Juliana,” Charley said, slipping out from under Mantis and walking toward her. “How are you?”

Juliana smiled, darting a look at Sherman to make sure he wasn’t running off before she answered. “In the grand scheme of things, I’m fine.” Charley gave her a sympathetic look, then wrapped her in a quick hug. A hug Juliana hadn’t known she needed.

“Is that the famous Sherman?” Charley asked with a nod to the dog trotting over to Scipio with a stick. “Noah was telling me about him.” They watched Scipio take the stick and chuck it across the grassy area. Sherman took off after it. “He is a big boy, isn’t he?” she added.

“He’s normal size now, but since he’s only six months old, yeah, he’s going to be a big boy,” Juliana answered.

Charley chuckled. “Hence the name.”

Juliana inclined her head as Sherman brought the stick back to Scipio. She and Charley fell into casual chitchat as others prepared lunch, covering everything from the new boutique in town to the library’s fall schedule, to what books they were reading. Charley threw in a few questions about Simon as if testing whether she’d feel comfortable talking about him. Living with her aunt and uncle had taught her to say as little as possible—especially about anything private—but she had nothing to hide and wasn’t part of their world anymore. Instead, she enjoyed sharing with Charley how they’d met and everything they’d been thrown into the past few days. Charley would hold her tongue on the things that mattered—she was a Warwick, but she was also Mantis’s girlfriend, which made her like a sister to Simon.

They were laughing at the tug-of-war game between Scipio and Sherman when she felt fingertips at her back. Despite knowing whose they were, she startled. Simon stepped closer, sliding his arms around her waist and steadying her body by pulling it against his.

“It’s good for him to stretch his legs,” he said, dropping a kiss on her neck before nodding to Sherman, who now raced around the yard with half the stick in his mouth. Scipio stood, phone still to his ear, holding the other half.

“Lunch is ready,” Dottie called. A few minutes later, they were all seated at a long picnic table. Interestingly, Griswold had refused to sit until Dottie sat. Which proved even more interesting when Simon had whispered to her that she didn’t usually eat with them. He assured her that she was always invited, but while Dottie liked to cook for the masses, she preferred to eat in peace. And since the guys always cleaned up, she often either ran errands after getting food on the table or retired to her own cabin.

Finally, after a bit of posturing, everyone dug in. Juliana opted for a cheeseburger before loading up on watermelon and a small helping of pasta salad. When the tray of buns made its way to the professor, he grabbed a hamburger bun. Juliana glanced at his plate to see a grilled portobello mushroom with melted cheese on it.

“So what’s the update?” Juan asked before taking a bite of his brat.

Juliana had her own mouth full of food so looked to the guys to answer. Simon nodded to Viper, who took the lead and updated everyone. Simon’s and Monk’s gazes darted to Philly when Viper mentioned Agent Parks, but he didn’t acknowledge either and remained focused on shoving his burger into his mouth at an alarming rate. Juliana’s stomach cramped watching him.

“At the end of the day, we have a shit ton of evidence supporting our theory that Gregor has been blackmailing Lowery to support certain zoning laws that give him a development advantage, then Gregor allows local drug dealers to use the sites for their business while his projects are ongoing and blackmails Polinsky to have his officers look the other way,” Viper wrapped up.

“But no proof,” Lovell said, refilling his glass of lemonade before offering some to Dottie.

“No proof,” Simon said. “Not yet. We also don’t know if Lowery is paying off commissioners on behalf of Gregor to ensure his projects get green-lighted, or where Polinsky is getting the money to pay off his officers.”

“And in the meantime, Juls isn’t safe,” Mantis said.

“It sounds like neither of them are, if they found Stone’s house in San Francisco,” Charley pointed out.

“They may not know who I am,” Simon said. “Neither the truck nor the house are in my name. They’ve figured out someone from the club is involved, but maybe not which one of us.”

Charley cast an alarmed look at Mantis. He picked up her hand, kissed it, then set it on his thigh, covering it with his own. “The security measures we have in place here are the best,” he said. “It’s safe. And for those of us who have homes elsewhere, we have top-notch security there, too. Your brother and his team recently added a few additional perks,” he said to her.

Mantis’s comments seemed to reassure Charley, but still, she turned to Juliana. “What about you? You must be staying somewhere safe.”

Juliana barely had time to register the heat blooming on her chest when Simon answered. “She’s staying with me.”

The guys already knew, but still, a flush of embarrassment crept up her chest. She and Simon were adults making adult decisions, she told herself. Unfortunately, that truth didn’t silence the voice in her head—the one that sounded like her aunt telling her that she was too weird, too awkward, too heavy for any man to truly want. The one telling her that, like a whore, her only value to a man was what lay between her legs because no one would ever want her for anything else.

Intellectually, Juliana could not be more misaligned with her aunt—there were so many things wrong with the woman’s outlook. Still, the lectures, the insults, the judgments, the disgust had left their mark.

“Oh, good,” Charley said in response to Simon’s statement. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s always safer to be with someone.” She paused. “Well, the right someone, anyway.”

Juliana heard no judgment in Charley’s response, only genuine relief. Still, she set her half-eaten burger down and picked up her glass of water.

“What’s your next move?” Juan asked.

She took a sip of her drink, hoping the cold beverage would settle her stomach. As if sensing her distress, Simon’s hand began rubbing small circles on her lower back. Sherman crawled under the table and set his nose in her lap.

“Agent Parks may take the case over,” Simon said.

“The FBI could take years to investigate,” Mantis pointed out.

“All the while, Juliana could still be in danger,” Charley added.

“We’ve been talking to Leo,” Philly said, finally joining the conversation. She glanced at him, and he cast her a worried look before turning his attention to Charley. “Can HICC take over? They have to go through all the same motions as the FBI, but they do it a thousand times faster.”

Charley looked at her as she explained. “They have an agreement with several law enforcement agencies,” she said. “I don’t totally understand it, but they can request to take on certain cases—usually ones tied to employees of HICC or their families—and in exchange for being granted subcontractor status, they provide assistance on other cases the agencies keep.”

Juliana started to point out that she wasn’t family, but Scipio spoke first.

“Based on what I’ve heard, the triad are little more than glorified thugs,” he said.

“Big fish in a small pond,” Griswold added.

“My guess is it won’t take much for one of them to cave. My bet would be on either Lowery or Polinsky,” Scipio said.

“I’d like to see that,” Monk chimed in for the first time.

“So would I,” Lovell agreed.

“You’d have to get them into questioning first,” Simon pointed out. “Parks mentioned doing that, but I don’t know if she has enough intel to pull it off. Or if she wants to tip her hand before the bureau has more evidence.”

“If it’s not official, it doesn’t matter,” Griswold said.

Dottie frowned. “What does that mean?”

Scipio crossed his arms and leaned back. “It means that if we don’t want to wait and see what the investigation reveals, our best bet is to get the men talking.”

“No,” Simon said at the same time as Mantis.

Juliana frowned. “What am I missing?”

“Nothing,” Simon said as Mantis shot each of the Falcons a look daring them to disagree. Philly and Monk appeared on board with whatever Simon and Mantis hadn’t said. Viper appeared thoughtful, while both Lovell and Scipio looked to be biting their tongues.

“What aren’t they saying?” she asked Charley.

The woman glanced at Mantis. “Noah,” she said.

He shook his head. “It’s not even worth talking about.”

Charley narrowed her eyes. “Talk does not mean action. Do not demean her intelligence or ability to think about this logically.”

Juliana almost laughed at the look on Mantis’s face. Not only had he displeased Charley, but she also had a point. Whatever that might be.

Mantis’s mouth tightened, his lips thinning in frustration.

“Look, y’all,” she said. “Whatever it is you don’t want to say, you may as well say it because no way in hell are you going to be able to drop it now.”

Charley picked up her drink, flashed Mantis a you-know-she’s-right look, then took a sip.

Simon sighed, Philly’s shoulders slumped, Monk’s head tipped.

Griswold cleared his throat. “They always were a dramatic pack of mostly feral men,” he said. Was that a hint of fondness she’d heard? “Made them good soldiers when the stakes were high, but when they weren’t in the thick of things, a hangnail was the end of the world.” He paused and popped a piece of watermelon into his mouth. After he swallowed, he met and held her gaze. “What they don’t want to say is that the best way to get Lowery or Polinsky talking is for you to offer to have a conversation with them.”