Page 13 of Wood You Rather?

“And I’d need a few weeks here to wrap up my cases and prepare.”

I stood and held out my hand. She followed suit, sliding her smaller palm against mine.

Her handshake was firm and authoritative—yet another turn-on—and she never broke eye contact.

“I’ll take the case. But swear to me that you will stay out of the way and not fuck this up.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Chapter4

Pascal

“This is fantastic.” Alice clapped her hands, fussing over the number of snacks she’d set out on the kitchen island.

Henri, who had a protective hand firmly planted on her ass, grunted. That was the equivalent of an effusive thank-you from my grumpy older brother.

“You did good,” Adele said, popping an olive into her mouth. She elbowed Henri in the ribs but got no response.

“Use your words, Brawny,” Alice admonished.

He grimaced. “You did good. How soon can she get here?”

Alice gave him a peck on the cheek, making a blush creep up from under his beard.

We had gathered at their house to talk about the investigation and Parker.

The house, a massive timber frame on the side of a mountain, was spacious and private, which was essential for any gathering of the Gagnons. For a long time, it had been his fortress of solitude, but in the last year, his girlfriend Alice had moved in, as well as their two foster kids, Goldie and Tucker. Add two dogs and a kitten Goldie had recently guilted him into, and the once cold and lonely house was filled with constant chaos and love.

My sister, Adele, sat on a plush couch across the room, swirling a glass of red wine, while Remy, my youngest brother, shared an armchair with his wife, Hazel.

Every eye in the room was on me, and the weight of their expectations pressed heavily on my already sore shoulders. My relationship with my siblings was… complicated. They were all close. I was the outsider. The one who’d left.

Since coming back two years ago, I’d worked with them daily, dedicated to getting the business back on track. But in the fifteen years I’d been gone, their relationships with one another had grown and evolved. They had inside jokes I didn’t understand, and they trusted each other implicitly. They’d settled into some version of a friendly, competitive adult sibling dynamic I could not begin to understand.

So I owed them. They had been here all along, working with Dad, and with my mom after he died. They were all committed to the business and this way of life. And I was the interloper.

So I had to prove myself. Get this right.

“If she’s as good as you say,” Adele hedged.

“She is,” I said firmly, leaning on the kitchen island. “Prior to becoming a PI, she was a state police detective assigned to the special investigation unit. I’ve interviewed so many PIs over the past couple of months, and trust me, she’s perfect.”

Hazel eyed me warily from where she sat perched on Remy’s lap. She was not my biggest fan, and she was fiercely protective of my little brother. She was also the one who’d gotten this whole thing going. Digging into Dad’s records, scoping things out and putting the pieces together. She and Remy had been chased through the woods by drug traffickers for her trouble, so she was deeply invested in justice. On top of it all, she was our resident opioid expert and was currently working on her PhD. No one had done more to move this forward than Hazel. I would always be grateful, even if she did despise me.

“Why isn’t she police anymore?” she asked as Remy nuzzled her neck. The newlywed phase was still going strong with those two. They were never not touching one another.

“Hates bureaucracy,” I said. So what if it was a gross oversimplification? “And her dad is a former colonel with the Staties. When I asked her about it, she said she wanted to do her own thing.”

Heads around the room nodded. Fierce independence ran deep with this crowd. That was all I needed to stop any further questions about her qualifications.

“So,” Adele said, leaning forward, her hair hanging like a curtain on either side of her face, “here’s the big question. Can we afford her?”

“Yes.” And I left it at that.

The past two years had been difficult for us financially. The business was struggling with increased competition, and my dad, good guy that he was, had entered into some difficult contracts to help other citizens of Lovewell, which made it even harder to turn a profit.

Henri had refused a loan from me. He’d said he didn’t want to use my money to bail the company out. That stung. The entire reason I had pushed myself to earn like I did was to take care of my family. But I understood his pride and respected his desire to get the company to a place where it could sustain itself.

---