Though Ashlynn adored her sister-in-law, she still had reservations about her family getting so involved with Courtney’s. As far as Ashlynn was concerned, the Adorites had a lot to lose, and trusting the Kogans wasn’t something she was all that comfortable with. When she’d mentioned it to Max, he’d assured her that they were on the same page and he would always be careful.

Max nodded at Courtney, then his eyes met Ashlynn’s briefly. “Stick around. We might need your help.”

Great. Fine. She’d stick around, but rather than pretend to be eating any longer, she was going to do something constructive—like have a drink—to pass the time.

Pushing back from her seat, she smiled down at Jase. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Not waiting for anyone to join her, Ashlynn disappeared to the formal living room, helping herself to a glass of Max’s finest brandy, which he kept in a decanter on a table in the corner. After pouring her drink, she wandered over to the windows and stared out into the night. The swimming pool was lit up, the rotating lights causing the water to change colors every fifteen seconds or so. It would’ve been peaceful if not for the voices she could hear coming toward her.

“Did you see the pumpkin on Max’s porch?” Madison asked as she joined Ashlynn a few moments later.

Ashlynn nodded, smiling at the memory of seeing that thing sitting there. Her brother had killed people in cold blood, didn’t bat an eye at forcing someone to do his bidding, and yet he’d softened enough to carve a damn pumpkin for a holiday none of them had ever celebrated.

“I heard Courtney’s niece came over and convinced Max to carve it,” her sister said.

“More like a dare,” Brent offered when he graced them with his presence. “One Courtney masterminded, I’m sure.”

“That makes more sense,” Ashlynn noted, holding her glass with both hands as she turned to face her siblings. “Max isn’t the pumpkin type. At least I didn’t think he was.”

“I think it’s cute,” Madison noted.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Max’s deep voice echoed in the space, bouncing off the windows and the hardwood, as he and Leyton walked into the room, followed closely by Victor. “And for the record, we started by droppin’ pumpkins from the balcony.”

“Of course you did.” Victor chuckled. “After all, you’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Damn right I do,” Max grumbled, but a smile tilted the corners of his lips. “I try to remind my wife of that all the damn time.”

Ashlynn tossed back the rest of her drink, then went to pour herself another while the rest of them took a seat on the huge U-shaped sectional that took up most of the room. She preferred to stand, feeling too antsy to sit down. While she sipped her drink, she glanced over at Leyton. He was staring back at her from his position against the opposite wall. Or perhaps glaring was a better way to put it. He didn’t appear happy to see her, yet he wasn’t looking away.

It was during moments like this one that she could sense his interest, practically feel the steady warmth of his hands on her body. The way his eyes perused her from head to toe caused arousal to stir deep inside of her. Before she could confront him, a commotion sounded near the front door, and then several big men wandered by, following Courtney into Max’s office. The Sniper 1 Security team, she assumed.

“They need any help?” Brent asked, his question directed at Max.

“I’ll go find out,” Max told them as he nodded at Leyton.

Ashlynn wanted to come, too, so without waiting to be invited, she followed her brother and Leyton into Max’s office, then kept to the back of the room as the others seated themselves on the black leather sofas.

There was a cell phone sitting on the glass table between them, a deep voice rumbling from it. “Guy’s name is Thurston McElroy.”

“Thurston? Seriously? Who names their kid Thurston?” one of the guys asked.

Ashlynn knew who these people were because she had met them before. Most of them, anyway. The one she recognized most was Courtney’s brother, Trace. Then of course, there was RT and Z. And Courtney. There was only one person she didn’t recognize.

“Anyway,” the voice on the phone continued, “after I identified what account the wire had come from, I was able to get all the information we could ever want on this guy. And it looks like Amit’s GPS is still active, because the address I located for Thurston is, in fact, the same location the signal is coming from. Provided Amit is alive, we should be able to get in and get out, no problems.”

“The guy’s expecting the painting,” RT explained to the others. “I have no intention of handing over the original unless it comes down to life or death. The plan’ll be to use the second fake as a decoy until we can get Amit out of there.”

“Who’s gonna hand it over?” Trace asked.

“I am,” RT said.

Ashlynn’s sister-in-law spoke up. “Alone?”

“No.”

Z’s answer was quite adamant, and Ashlynn got the feeling there were some personal feelings there. Z had a thing for RT? Hmm. She wouldn’t mind watching a little of that action.

“I’m goin’ in with him,” Z continued. “We’ll distract Thurston while the rest of you find a way to get Amit.”

“What if he’s got Amit with him?” Courtney inquired.

Ashlynn had no idea who Amit was, or what trouble he was in, but she assumed he was the guy who’d been kidnapped.

“Doesn’t matter. The objective is still the same. We get Amit out unharmed.” RT was obviously the leader of this group.

“Hold up a minute,” Courtney’s brother said. “What’s to keep this guy from goin’ after Amit again once this is over? We can’t just hand over a fake painting and expect this guy to shrug it off. He paid Amit two mil up front—half of what he’d been intending to pay. That’s a lotta fuckin’ cash.”

Yeah, it was. Two mil for a painting? And that was half?

“And he’s cautious,” the voice on the phone added. “The reason he hadn’t paid Amit the remaining money was because he was having the painting assessed. I hacked his email and found an email thread between him and some expert. One week after taking possession of the painting, Thurston was informed it was a fake. He’s been hunting Amit ever since.”

“That explains why Amit went to his mother’s house.”

“Regardless,” RT inserted, “I’m not handin’ over the original. Four mil ain’t shit compared to what’ll happen if this painting gets in the wrong hands.”

Ashlynn couldn’t help but wonder what the story was there.

“I’ve got an idea.” Courtney waved her hand to get everyone’s attention. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Talk?” the guy Ashlynn didn’t recognize huffed. “You think that’s gonna make him forget the fact he lost two mil?”

Courtney’s eyes narrowed on the unknown guy, but the voice that sounded did not belong to her.

“He will if I talk to him.”

Ashlynn’s attention turned to Max as he moved across the room, coming to stand behind Courtney.

RT shook his head. “Your help always comes with a price.”

Ashlynn couldn’t help but laugh. He was right about that.

“Thanksgiving dinner,” Courtney inserted.

RT frowned, making Ashlynn smile.

“Huh?”

“Thanksgiving dinner. Here. At our house. That’s the price.”

Ashlynn was now looking forward to Thanksgiving dinner, that was for sure. Like a modern-day version of the Montagues and Capulets. Surely she wouldn’t be bored then.

“You want me to spend Thanksgiving at your place? That’s what it’ll cost me?” RT asked.

“Not just you. Everyone,” Courtney clarified.

“Fine,” Trace stated. “Done. Can we get on with this?”

“How do you propose we do this then?” Z asked Max directly.

For the next few minutes, Ashlynn listened to Max explain his plan while she did her best not to focus all her attention on Leyton, who was standing in the corner, thick arms crossed over his massive chest. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was stealing glances of her, as well. Unlike him, she wasn’t trying to hide her interest. Never had.