Page 19 of Recaptured by the Crime Lord

“Lyla?” he called.

“Yes?”

He rubbed a hand over his sweaty face and hid shaking hands in his pockets. He had to keep it together. “Are you finding what you need?” he asked lamely.

A pause and then, “Yes.”

Feeling like an idiot, he sat because his legs were weak. He couldn’t stand being away from her. He had her back for two fucking days. His worry was justified, wasn’t it? She had been butchered and then disappeared for a year and a half. That wannabe fucking crime lord was still breathing and Lyla didn’t want to be here. Of course he was on edge. It would take time for them to trust one another and he wouldn’t take chances with her.

The sales associate came in with armfuls of clothes and paused when she saw him.

“Miss me?” she asked cheekily.

“Missed my wife,” Gavin said and jerked his head at the closed door.

“Aw! Honey, this man is a keeper!”

Lyla gave him an unreadable look when she opened the door. The sales associate bustled in and went into great detail about the dresses and outfits.

“I don’t want anything low cut,” Lyla said, voice quiet but firm.

“No?” the sales associate asked, bewildered. “Your body is banging.”

“I have,” Lyla paused and glanced at Gavin before she finished, “a lot of scars on my chest.”

The sales associate looked startled and then sympathetic. “Okay. Well, let me see what else I can find.” She grabbed more than half of the outfits and left.

Lyla and Gavin stared at one another. He wanted to go to her, but knew this wasn’t the time or place.

“You can model for me if you want,” he said, trying to sound upbeat even as a bubble of rage began to creep up his throat. When he found the fucking coward who attacked his father and Lyla, he would make them suffer a thousand times over for what they did to his family.

Lyla bared her teeth and closed the door in his face. He relaxed on the sofa and answered emails and returned some phone calls while the sales associate ran in and out of the dressing room with clothes. Lyla didn’t model anything for him, but he was satisfied that she wasn’t throwing a fit since he was hovering.

They went to three more stores. He was amused that unlike her old wardrobe, she was going for comfort rather than fashion. She did accept several dresses, but her choices were practical and not aimed towards seduction. He didn’t bother to tell her it didn’t matter what she wore. He was painfully aroused whether she wore lingerie or sweat pants. Although his eyes moved over her body often it was her face he was drawn to. The way her eyes lit up when she liked something, her pursed lips when she was making a decision and the smile that didn’t come often enough. He was to blame for that.

Blade and the men were relieved to make their way out of the mall and perked up when they went to a gun shop. Lyla didn’t go for something girly and cute. She chose a stainless steel semi automatic pistol that was light, small and powerful. He approved and watched as she tried out her choice in the store’s gun range. After unloading the bullets into a target, she turned to him and nodded. Lyla changed since Dad’s death. She had become solemn and wary, but he believed her light was still there, just buried. He kissed her on the lips and took care of the purchase.

When they got back to the car, he gave directions to a restaurant. He knew the owner and trusted the establishment. He put his arm around Lyla as they walked in. The hostess recognized him and directed Blade and the guys to two tables that flanked the one he and Lyla sat at. Before they opened their menus, Carlo appeared in a chef’s outfit. Gavin rose and hugged him.

“Gavin, you good?” Carlo asked.

Gavin nodded and gestured to Lyla. “This is my wife, Lyla.”

Lyla rose and was engulfed in a hug. Gavin would have been jealous to see her in another man’s arms if it wasn’t for her startled expression.

“I wasn’t invited to the wedding?” Carlo demanded.

“Shotgun wedding,” Gavin said.

Carlo winked at Lyla. “I understand. I had to get my woman pregnant before she’d marry me.”

Lyla’s eyes bugged. Carlo sobered and regarded both of them soberly.

“My condolences about Manny,” Carlo said. “He was a good man.”

Gavin’s stomach tightened with familiar rage. “He was.”

“Did you catch the bastard who did it?” Carlo asked, eyes hard.

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