Hunt sighed, a resigned look on his rugged face. “How much trouble is Carlson in?”
“We’ll contact you when we know more.”
“Is Vander involved?”
“Vander is involved in a lot of things,” Easton replied.
Hunt stared at the ceiling. “Fuck. Sorry, Harlow.” The detective pinned Easton with a glare. “This is some fucked-up situation where you keep me in the dark, then pull me in to clean up your mess.”
“When a crime has been committed that we need to report, we’ll call you. Like we always do.”
“You owe me, Norcross.”
“I’ll buy you a beer.”
Hunt snorted. “I want a case of something old, Scottish, and expensive.” His gaze turned serious. “Call me if you need me.”
Easton nodded. “Thanks, Hunt.”
“The uniforms are going to board up the broken window.”
“Thank you,” Harlow said.
“Let’s go.” Easton urged her out of the office, and to the front door.
In the car, she twisted her hands together. “We had to lie to a police detective.”
“Oh, Hunt was very aware of that. He’s used to us…skirting some of the rules.”
“You did it to protect my dad.”
“Your father isn’t a drug kingpin or murderer, Harlow. He got in over his head and he’s floundering. This will all be over soon.”
Her cell phone rang. Mom was on the screen. “Mom?”
“Harlow!” Her mom’s voice was almost a screech. “I got a message from the police. The house was broken into. Your father isn’t answering again.”
Harlow pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s fine, Mom. I just left the house, and met with the police.”
“Oh, my gosh. What’s happening?”
“The window on the back door was broken, but that’s it. Everything’s fine.”
“Where’s your father?”
“He’s busy with some work deal. You know how he is.”
“He works too hard.”
Harlow bit her lip. “And he just wants you to relax.”
“I do have a Bikram yoga class starting soon.”
“Go, balance your chakras.”
“I hear that sarcasm, Harlow Maree.”
Harlow smiled. Her mom could be funny and sweet when she wasn’t being anxious and paranoid. “I like yoga too, Mom, just not as much as you do.”
“You’re sure everything’s fine?”
“Nothing to worry about.” Harlow kept her tone as breezy as she could manage. She said goodbye and shoved the phone back into her handbag. Then she let out a long breath.
“You should tell her,” Easton said.
“No.” Harlow shook her head. “Mom’s…delicate. She doesn’t deal well with stress. We shield her.”
Since she was a child, Harlow knew not to go to her mother with a cut or bruise, or any kind of problem. Her mother would panic and fall apart. Once, when Harlow was eleven, she had broken her arm falling out of a tree. She’d waited an hour until their housekeeper had arrived and told her. Harlow had learned to deal with things herself. And when Scarlett had arrived, after her mother suffering several bad miscarriages, Harlow had helped take care of her baby sister and her mom.
Now, she needed to fix this mess.
She needed to get back to Easton’s and call her dad’s friends and track him down.
Finally, Easton pulled into his garage and Harlow sprang out of the car.
“I need to start calling—”
He grabbed her ponytail. “First, I’m going to make you brunch.”
She had to admit that any time she thought of this sexy man cooking for her, she felt a little tingle right between her legs. “Isn’t it too early for brunch?”
“It won’t be once I’m finished making it.”
She was hungry. “We’d better take the stairs so I can earn it.”
He palmed her ass. “As long as you don’t do anything to lose these curves.”
She smiled at him.
“I’m going to work out while you make your calls,” he said.
“Then I really need the stairs.”
They walked up the grand staircase and she looked up at the huge, spherical, black-metal light fixture in the center. So grand, but with a modern edge.
“So, what’s for brunch?” she asked.
“I’m going to make you croissants.”
She stopped and looked back at him. “From scratch?”
He took the last step so they were at eye level. “Yes.”
Oh, God, could the man get any more perfect?
Easton smiled. “You should see the look on your face. Any other woman would be delirious about getting diamonds, but for you it’s croissants.”
“Homemade croissants.” She pressed into him and kissed the underside of his jaw. “You’ve clearly been hanging out with the wrong women.”
He caught her chin, his handsome face serious. “Clearly.”
Her belly did a slow tumble.
“Come on.” He tugged her up the stairs.
“Our women are smashed,” Saxon said.
Easton glanced over to where his sister, Haven, and Harlow sat on stools in his bar room. The three of them all clutched martini glasses and were howling with laughter.
Harlow snort-laughed and almost fell off her stool.
Easton smiled. Damn if she didn’t look beautiful and cute as hell half drunk. She wore a pretty, flirty, aquamarine dress. Gia and Haven were dressed up, as well.
“You’re a goner,” Rhys said.
Easton looked back at his brother. Along with Saxon and Vander, they were all on the large sectional, nursing beers.
“Takes one to know one,” Vander said.
Rhys looked at Haven and grinned. “Hell, yeah. And I’m happy as hell.” He nodded at Easton. “And here’s our big bro, watching a gorgeous drunk blonde snorting, which admittedly is cute, like she’s a flawless diamond.”
“Goner,” Saxon agreed.
Vander snorted. “You took forever to admit that you were in love with our sister. At least Easton’s moving faster than you.”
“And you were ready to knock my teeth out when you found out about me and Gia.”
Vander shrugged. “It’s a brother’s job to intimidate anyone who touches his sister.”
Easton listened to Harlow laugh again. “I’m just glad to see her happy and relaxed. Even if it is alcohol-induced.” She’d been stressed and sad all day. “She called around to all her dad’s friends. No one’s seen him, or if they have, they aren’t talking. She thinks one guy was lying.”
“Name?” Vander demanded. “I’ll get Ace or Rome to look into it.”
“Gregor Howard.”
Vander tapped out a message on his phone.
“I just want her safe,” Easton said.
“I’ve talked with Antoine and Rhoda,” Vander said. “Both are pissed, and on the hunt for Carlson. But they also know Harlow’s off-limits. Ace has some leads on the dagger.”
After they’d sated themselves on breakfast, Easton had worked out in his gym, with her perched on a nearby weight bench, calling all her father’s friends. He’d watched as with each call, her shoulders had slumped farther.