Best Man Under the Mistletoe

One

“This investigation has really been a community effort. Thanks to the diligence of so many in Royal, the final piece of the puzzle has been put into place. Maverick has been identified as Royal’s own Dale, a.k.a. Dusty, Walsh.”

Gabe Walsh muted the TV and tossed the remote onto the leather sofa. He didn’t want to hear any more about his late uncle’s betrayal. The old bastard had passed away last week from a brain tumor and now the mess he’d caused to so many in the town of Royal, Texas, would have a ripple effect on Gabe’s security firm. He would undoubtedly have a hell of a mess to clean up.

He still couldn’t believe it. His uncle Dusty was Maverick, the cyber criminal who had terrorized members of the Texas Cattleman’s Club for months now, revealing their secrets online and often resorting to blackmail.

Perhaps worst of all, he’d leaked nude photos of Chelsea Hunt, taken without her knowledge in the locker room at her gym.

According to Gabe’s law-enforcement sources, all evidence pointed to Dusty working alone, except when it came to the locker room photos. There was now another person of interest in that particular crime. A woman, the police claimed. They were still studying months of surveillance-camera footage from the public areas of the gym to figure out who could have planted the camera.

Who the hell had aided his uncle? And was that the only instance when Dusty had taken on an accomplice? The man had been dying. There was no way Dusty could’ve done so much on his own. The man had been too feeble, too weak.

Though not so weak that he couldn’t plot to destroy lives. Luckily, the citizens of Royal—Chelsea Hunt included—had risen above his attempts to take them down. Investigators had also seen through his elaborate attempt to pin the crimes on someone else.

Gabe raked a hand through his hair and glared at the screen as Sheriff Nate Battle continued his press conference. A picture of Gabe’s once robust, smiling uncle filled the top right corner of the TV screen while the sheriff spoke.

How and why Uncle Dusty had pulled off such a grand scheme of blackmail and betrayal were open questions, but one thing was undeniable. He’d managed to put a big dark cloud over the family security firm, the Walsh Group—Gabe’s new baby. As if taking over a company wasn’t difficult and risky enough, now he was forced to deal with the backlash of questions from clients, both old and new, because of his relationship with Dusty.

How the hell was he supposed to dodge all of this bad press? The business’s reputation was on the line. Sure, finances

were the least of his concern. He’d busted his ass from the start of his career, saved every dollar, invested wisely and had worked his way up to be the best in the industry. He could close up shop and never work another day in his life, but he valued his reputation and family loyalty. Ironic now, wasn’t it?

Gabe once again thought of Chelsea Hunt and it had him seeing red. His uncle had gotten his hands on compromising photos and proceeded to put them out for the town to see. And why? Yes, Chelsea had played an important role in the Maverick investigation, bringing in computer-security experts from out of town to help. But the leak was part of a bigger pattern: Maverick had been especially vicious when targeting women. One theory was that Maverick acted this way because the Texas Cattleman’s Club had begun admitting women a few years back. By contrast, Dusty had been passed over for membership, one of the things that incurred his wrath.

Gabe’s uncle had certainly been hidebound in his views of women—but going so far as to leak nude photos like that? What had been wrong with the man? Chelsea hadn’t deserved the embarrassment and scandal that had been brought upon her by his uncle and some unknown accomplice.

Gabe cursed as he spun away from the television. He had been careful not to look at the photos when they’d been released for all the world to see. He hadn’t wanted to be totally disrespectful or to violate her privacy. Plus, where Chelsea was concerned, he had problems of his own to deal with.

Replaying that kiss he and Chelsea had shared last week, it was a wonder he hadn’t lost his damn mind.

Gabe and Chelsea had started spending a lot of time together when their best friends, Shane Delgado and Brandee Lawson, had asked them to be best man and maid of honor in their wedding. Brandee had wanted Gabe and Chelsea to be very hands-on in the process. Gabe had known full well when they’d started working together that they’d be spending quite a bit of time alone.

But the other night, something had shifted. They’d been making name cards for the reception, which had triggered an argument, which had his last ounce of control snapping.

Gabe had grabbed the gold ribbon from Chelsea and tossed it aside, gripping her face and taking what he’d wanted for months.

Raking a hand through his hair, Gabe tried like hell to forget how she’d tasted, how she’d felt against him. But the scene replayed over and over in his head.

He could use a stiff drink and the company of a good woman between the sheets. But right at the moment neither would solve his problems...and the only woman he wanted between his sheets was the very one he needed to forget.