And he would take a page from his shitkicker brother’s book. When he found this little asshole who threatened his family, he was going to beat the fucker to death.
“I’m so glad that look isn’t directed toward me,” Slade said.
“You’re right. I am not stepping down as CEO.” Gavin needed to say those words—and more. “I am not giving Hannah up. And I’m not holding myself back anymore. I am done. I might be a shit, but I’m a member of this family.”
Relief was palpable on Slade’s face. “Thank God. Every now and then Dex just has to start a fight. You can be his combination babysitter slash punching bag, at least part-time. He’s exhausting.”
Gavin smiled. That sounded fun. He could fight with his brothers and they would still love him. Except…
He should probably tell Slade everything. “I didn’t use a condom with Hannah.” He wasn’t prepared for Slade’s fist to slam right into his cheek. The other side of Gavin’s face lit up. Crap, when had Slade learned to do so much damage?
“Mother fucker!” Gavin yelled. He hoped there was another bag of frozen peas.
“Don’t you do that again until she’s right and properly married.” Slade frowned at him.
“Even then, we talk about that shit in this family. Are we clear?” They weren’t going to exclude him for that fuck up. Gavin breathed a sigh of relief that flooded his very soul. “I agree. Guess that means we have to get her to the altar soon.” The door to the kitchen swung open, and Dex ran in, his eyes wild with worry. “I can’t find Hannah. She left us a note on her computer that she’s gone. She left us. If we can’t find her, I’m going to break more than your jaw, Gavin.”
Slade raced to the kitchen drawer where the keys to all the vehicles were kept. “The keys to the limo and the Jeeps are still here. God, do you think she went on foot?” He doubted that. Hannah was stubborn, but she was also smart. Gavin stood, his face aching, and peered out the window. “One of the golf carts is missing. Depending on when she left, we might be able to catch up to her by simply running after her.” Dex started for the door, apparently willing to do just that. Gavin put a hand out. “We could run her down faster in the Jeep.”
“Oh,” Dex said. “That’s better.”
Gavin picked up the keys to the Jeep and handed them to Slade.
It was time to get their girl.
Chapter Eleven
Hannah stared at all the unfamiliar men at the Angry Moose crowding in on her with expressions ranging from curiosity to downright hunger. What the devil was she going to do?
“You boys take a big step back now,” a firm, feminine voice rang out.
An older woman, her steel gray hair in a braid that ran almost to her waist, stepped out. The roughneck who had stared at Hannah outside the bar stood at this woman’s side wearing a sheepish expression.
“Tobias, you little traitor!” The biggest cowboy in the group growled, but the woman hushed him with a single glare of her brown eyes.
“The first one to make a move on the young lady loses bar privileges.” Every man in the bar took a big step back. Hannah grinned. Apparently, her charms weren’t as coveted as a cold mug of beer.
She breathed a deep sigh of relief as the older woman walked forward wearing a friendly smile on her face. The woman was slender but built solid, a fact underscored by her no-nonsense blue jeans and standard flannel shirt.
“You, young lady, look like you could use a drink.”
Hannah took a seat on the nearest stool and peeked at her inebriated pilot, still happily snoring. It didn’t look like she was going anywhere for a while.
“Yes, please.”
Twenty minutes and two tequila shots later, she grinned at Marnie. “I want another one.”
“Are you sure?”
Hannah pondered that question. Probably. After all, she’d spent the last few days biting off way more than she could chew. Did she want just one James boy? No, that was too simple. Two?
Bring it on! Three? Well…three had proven one too many. Would a third tequila shot put her over the edge, just like that third man? It didn’t matter. She might as well have another drink—
one for each James brother.
“Yeah, I’ll take another.” She slapped firmly at the bar, missed and hit her own thigh. She probably didn’t need more alcohol, but the tequila made her stomach feel warm and tingly. And that made her think of those men again, being naked and entwined with them, bringing her the kind of pleasure that even romantic fiction hadn’t adequately described. She missed them, wanted them. She needed more tequila to drown that out.